#amber speaks sometimes

[amber-eclipse-shifts]

SO as an MCU shifter who hasn’t shifted yet, I’m on this constant ride of watching the MCU and feeling like I’m missing out on things as they progress here while also feeling like…sad that these bad things happen and I can’t help. Case in point, WandaVision!

I’m scripting that Shuri is able to take the mind stone out of Vision’s head during Infinity War (if that ends up happening lmao, it’s just a contingency plan) so WandaVision isn’t going to happen in my DR

But I’m thinking that maybe on Wanda’s birthday week or smth, we can celebrate by spending each day with a different themed decade and she uses her powers to change the rooms to look different :DD so it can kind of be like WandaVision but Not Dangerous LOL

[quimichi]

˚ ✦ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐎𝐃 . ★⋆. ࿐࿔ 　. 　*　

WARNINGS: skin to skin contact, cuddling, it's all fluff but yk, pet names, light NSFW, I apologize if my view of these characters do not line up with yours or they may seem inaccurate, this is a mess btw, + lazy editing

SUMMARY: The love of their life/favorite person (you) graced them with love, affection and skin to skin contact...

CHARACTERS: Everyone x F!Creator Reader

WORD COUNT: 20.680

A/N: This was written before Natlan came out soo no Natlan characters yet. Also, the platonic parts are shorter. I unfortunately can't add more tags, they somehow stopped.

Aether

Aether is all too happy to spend his time with you on the cliffside; he leans against you, his head resting idly against your shoulder. Whenever he speaks, his breath would brush against your neck, tickling you gently. He is practically melting against you; he’s like a clingy cat, enjoying every second your warm skin touches his. "I've missed you," he says softly, lifting his head to gaze up at you with a dreamy smile.

You can't help but chuckle, "Understandable, you're barely by my side. You always end up traveling over Teyvat." Aether’s expression softens. He looks a little guilty when you bring up travelling, but his arms tighten around you, pulling his body a little closer.

”I know I’m always off adventuring…but I always come back to you. I always come back to you.” He pauses, and then he smiles a little wider. He seems cheeky when he adds: ”You do remember that, right?”

You pinch his cheek, such a brat sometimes. Aethers face scrunches up as you gently pinch his cheek. He looks disgruntled for a few moments, before he grins. His expression becomes warm and soft when he returns to the conversation. ”Well, as long as you remember,” he says with a smile. His gaze flits to the side for a moment, as he looks up at the sky; the sun is setting, casting warm light upon the landscape. He shivers.

”It’s getting cold.” he grins again, before he nestles himself comfortably against you. He wraps his arms around your midriff, trying to pull you closer.

”And you’re so warm,” he mutters, burying his face against you. He’s enjoying this more than a little...

Albedo

He can't help it. He wraps his arms around you, clinging to you almost desperately. He doesn't care how it looks or how utterly pathetic he seems as he clings to you. "Your Grace..." he mumbles, shifting further to bury his head against your collarbone. His hold on you has grown almost like an iron grip, as though he expects you to vanish the second he lets go.

He seems terrified, in a way, of the thought that this is merely an ephemeral dream. That he'll wake up and find himself by his shrine in the cold with only a lingering memory of your warm touch. He fears that any second, you would pull away and he would be left empty and wanting more. Like an addict deprived of their fix, he fears and craves for your touch with his whole heart. "Hmm?" a hum escapes you as you mindlessly stroke his hair. Albedo's body seems to loosen like liquid as you stroke his hair. He leans against you, almost desperately soaking up the affection like an addicted man.

"Your Grace..." he mumbles again, shivering as you run your hands through his silky strands. The action is so simple, and yet he seems to relish in the feeling. His arms are still around you, and they tighten again as you stroke his hair. After being deprived of affection for so long, he can't help but cling to you as though you'll slip away the second he lets go.

"Please don't... leave, ever"

Amber

She sighs softly as ahe curls against you, he back against your chest. The sound of the breeze gently blowing the blades of the windmill makes her smile faintly, as her eyes flutter shut. Luckily it's night, or the people of Mondstadt would go wild over the fact that you would be here. Amber seems at peace like this, and she can't resist nuzzling into your neck. Her expression is soft and she hums quietly along with the sound of the windmill, the gentle breeze making her hair stir from its position.

“Your Grace?” she calls quietly, lifting her head up just enough to meet your eyes. "Hmm?" Amber hesitates, for a moment, before asking his next question quietly. “You… you said you love me too, when I told you I love you. Do you-“ she pauses, her voice cracking, and she has to force out the next few syllables, “do you really mean it?”

"Of course I mean it." Amber lets her head fall backwards against your chest again, her expression softening. A mixture of emotions flicker across hwr face, a look of relief, but also disbelief that this is all real, that you truly love her.

“Say it again, please?”

"I love you."

"...thank you, so much."

Al-Haitham

Al-Haitham has his arms wrapped around you, holding you against him close. He can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his, every breath you take a gentle reminder of your presence. He buries his face in your hair, inhaling the scent that's so distinctly you. You feel his heart thudding against your back, but he seems otherwise still, holding you firmly and yet gently at the same time. Each breath he takes is shaky, as if he could shatter at any moment. His arms tighten around you, holding you so close that he's afraid he may be hurting you. But he can't help himself. You're here. You're in his arms, warm and close and alive.

He shuts his eyes, inhaling the scent of your hair. "Yours," he whispers quietly into your skin. "Hm? What?" you heard what he said, you just wanted him to say it again more clear. He feels your hum more than he hears it, the low rumble in your body reverberating through his own. Al-Haitham keeps his arms wrapped tightly around you, his body moulding itself around you.

He lifts his head, whispering into your ear, "I said, 'yours.'"

Every fiber of his being belongs to you, and he feels the need to remind you.

"Yours, and mine" he whispers again, pulling you closer.

Arlecchino

Her arms are wrapped around your naked body, her exposed chest warm against your back. Her head rests atop yours, arms curling around your body to hold you closer. She can feel your hair against her skin, and she breathes in your scent. It's so familiar to her. So perfect.

She holds you like she's worried you'll be snatched away from her. Arlecchinos breathing is slow and measured, matching the steady rhythm of the crackling fireplace. Her chest rises and falls against your back, a constant reminder of her presence.

With you in hwr arms, she feels whole. She presses her nose to your head again, inhaling.

"That was nice..." you whisper, snuggling into her chest more and closing your eyes, enjoying the peace and quite. Arlecchino lets out a quiet laugh, her breath ruffling your hair.

"It was beautiful," she agrees. "You are beautiful." She reaches down and brushes her fingernails along your skin, the tips moving down your arm, tracing patterns against your skin.

"No, it was prefect, just like you." She corrects herself.

Ayaka

Ayaka can barely believe it.

She's in your bed, in your arms, pressed against the very body she's worshipped for so long. For a few moments, she's simply frozen as her mind struggles to catch up. Ayaka knows she should speak or do something, but the feeling of your body next to hers is a sensation so completely foreign, she's utterly speechless. All of this is new— the soft press of your curves against her back, your breath by her ear..."Your hair is so soft, 'yaka" you whisper against her ear. Ayaka feels her face flush at your words. Her hands involuntarily clutch at the sheets, pulling at them as she struggles to not react to your touch— except...she loves it. She loves it more than anything.

Her eyes flutter shut as she tries to keep herself in control. She wants to give into you, lean back, let herself melt into you... but at the same time, she can't. She struggles to speak, managing to stutter out, "May I...turn around, please?"

You obviously give her permission. Ayaka lets out a soft breath, feeling it leave her lungs. At your affirmation, she turns around, finally facing you.

For a moment, Ayaka doesn't meet your eyes, she meets your lips. She's all too aware of how close you are to her, how her body presses against yours. She tries to still her heart, but the warmth of your skin burns through her clothes, leaving her senses overwhelmed.

"Your lips..."

Ayato - nah cause for some reason that's my fav??

He buries his face into your hair and sighs, his chest rising and falling against your back with the motion.

"You smell so sweet," he confesses. His nose brushes against the shell of your ear gently, as if afraid to break the spell. "Like you are heaven made flesh." You raise a skeptic eyebrow, "Heaven made flesh huh? The most accurate description I've heard all those millenia." "Heaven made flesh," he mumbles again, his arms pulling you in closer to him. His fingers dig into your sides, holding you tight.

He takes a deep breath, the scent of your hair filling his nostrils like a drug. "If my hands burn when they touch you, well," he says gently, "then it serves me right for having the arrogance to touch an angel." You roll your eyes, "Don't be ridiculous, you have never burnt yourself by touching me" "Don't I?" He teases, laughing gently along with you. He brushes his lips against your neck, his breath coming out as a warm shiver against your skin.

"I may not be physically burnt, but I feel the heat all the same," he whispers. "I feel the heat when you laugh, when you speak, when I look at you. You're my own personal inferno." "And you are water, pure and fresh. If I'm an inferno, you will evaporate." you add. He laughs softly against your skin. "What a beautiful way to describe me. Water. Fresh. Pure."

He smiles, pulling back ever so slightly. The hand at your waist wanders to your chin, lifting it so that he can look you in the eyes.

"A waterfall doesn't evaporate when it brushes against fire," he says, blue eyes sparkling. "It extinguishes it." You blink, once, twice, until you deadpan. "So you wanna kill me?" Ayato scoffs, pulling you in closer to his chest and burying his face in your hair once more.

"Of course not," he answers, his tone indignant. "I don't wish to kill you. I wish to drown you."

He chuckles at his own words, the sound full and rich against your ear.

"Together we boil?" You ask

"Together we boil."

Baizhu

Changsheng, the white-scaled serpent, rests herself in a loose coil around Baizhu's neck, draped across his broad shoulders. She lifts her head and flicks her tongue out, glancing at you with her slitted eye before settling back into her nap.

As for Baizhu himself, he remains tense and stock-still at your side. He is utterly stiff, as if afraid that if he moved, he would somehow lose your touch. "You should relax and take a rest. You've been working too hard lately." Changsheng nods, "You tell this idiot." Baizhu blinks as if he's trying to process your words. To suggest that he rests, especially in your presence, seems... almost disrespectful. But after a glance at your face, he swallows his protest, opting to give a small nod at your suggestion.

"As you wish," he replies after a moment's hesitation. He almost looks ashamed; almost as if not working and devoting his entire being to you at all moments is failing you. Baizhu remains silent as you run soft fingers through his hair. He seems almost afraid to move, to breathe, to break some unspoken rule regarding his position as your humble worshiper.

His eyes flutter shut as you idly toy with his hair, threading your fingers through the green locks and gently tugging. Even the small gesture is enough to almost send him to another world. He takes a careful, deliberate inhale, savoring the scent of your presence.

"Realxing can be nice", at this point he's already half asleep when he said that. But one is for sure fully awake now, "Been saying that since forever, but you never listen!" "Shh Changsheng."

Barbara - aged up

She is cuddling you so close she's practically molded to you, with her breathing and the beating of her heart syncing up to match your rhythm.

She nuzzles her head against yours, burying herself against you and breathing deep with an almost desperate need. It's as though she can't get enough of you, and as if you're the air she needs to breathe. "I… I love you," she murmurs, like a prayer. "Never leave me." With every word she says, Barbara holds you even closer to her. She craves your presence, your touch, and your words more than anything else in the world.

With each gentle whisper of 'never leave me,' she grips you tighter in her arms, burying herself against you like she wants to become one with your very being.

"You're everything," she whispers. "I want to be with you forever."

"Babs? Sing me a song, hm? The one I like so much, please." you ask of her as you let your finger run over her cheek. She nods, her breath leaving her in one soft, sharp exhale that sounds like a sigh. "Anything for you," she says fervently.

Barbara takes a moment, before she begins to sing a soft, beautiful song. Her voice is like the moon on a clear night, like the first flowers blooming after winter.

The song she sings is one of devotion and adoration, its lyrics promising the moon, the stars, and everything in between, but only if it meant she could spend an eternity with you.

Beidou

She had her head leaning comfortably against your side, one of her muscular arms curled around your waist. Her eyes were fixated on the sky, taking in the constellations. To her, there was nothing more beautiful than the celestial bodies scattered across the night sky. She lets out a dreamy sigh, enjoying the feeling of the cold breeze on her face.

"You know, I used to dream about the stars," she says, a small smile playing on her lips. "And what did you dream about?" You ask, genuinely interested. She usually never talk so dreamy like this. She lets out a soft sigh, her eyes still fixed on the stars above. Her arm tightens around your waist for a moment as she ponders over your question. Then, she answers in her usual low whisper.

"I used to dream about sailing the stars one day," she confesses. Her voice is soft and slightly wistful. She's clearly still imagining the dream she used to have. "I'd sail through the cosmos, visiting all the planets out there. I wanted— no, I needed—"

Her voice is quivering slightly. She seems embarrassed. "Hm?" Beidou hesitates for a moment, swallowing down the lump forming in her throat. Then, in a slightly shaky voice, she continues.

"I wanted to find someone special out there, someone to be my light in the universe. Someone to shine above the stars themselves...But I think I already found it."

"Yeah, I think I did too."

Bennett - aged up

Bennett all but melts within your arms. He's practically boneless on the bed; like a puddle, he fits perfectly into your embrace, like a missing puzzle piece into the gaps within you. He's clingy, arms wrapped tightly around your torso, pressing himself against you as much as he can, wanting to feel you; to be with you.

His chest still aches from the wound he had received, but your presence alone is enough distraction. "I'm sorry for my...bad luck."

You look down at him, stroking his hair, "You can borrow my luck for tomorrow." Bennett looks up from your lap, his eyelashes fluttering softly as he considers your words. "Your luck?" he asks, his voice laced thick with surprise; he's never heard of someone sharing their luck before. Bennett's mind races as he considers this.

"I-I could borrow your luck, your Grace?" he murmurs, as if he's afraid of offending you. You can't help but hold back a giggle, how cute he is sometimes. "Always, everyday. Just promise me you take care. Maybe it'll balance your bad luck out a bit." Bennett inhales— his breath shaky. He doesn't understand why you're being so kind to a lowly creature like him, but you're giving him your luck, of all things. You're sharing your luck.

He knows that the chances of him getting hurt tomorrow are exponentially smaller now, but he can't help but worry— the fact you're giving him something as personal as your luck is overwhelming enough, and he's unsure how to respond.

"...Thank you," he whispers reverently. "Thank you so much...my love."

Capitano - shiny daddy in the house omg

Capitano continues to run his fingers through your hair, his fingers gentle and soft as if he was afraid that he would accidentally pull on a strand of your hair if he wasn't careful.

There's an almost reverent sense to his touch, as if he was a devoted priest and you the god he worships. His cold, gold gaze seems to hold a strange gentleness to it, and there's an almost tender look in his eyes that is unusual for the stoic war crazy man. (Lol)

"You seem relaxed...Cap." a teasing smile creeping on your face at the name. "Mm," Capitano hums in acknowledgment, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you.

"Your presence is... calming," he admits. His voice is deep and rich, making the statement sound more like a declaration of love than mere words. "It... brings me peace."

As though he was a loyal dog, he seeks your touch as he pulls you closer; shifting so that your body is almost laying on his. "I'm glad."

"Mm," Capitano's response this time is almost a low rumble. He closes his eyes, letting them shut in a rare moment of vulnerability. His arms wrap around you, almost pulling you over his body. If you listen closely, you can hear his breathing start to grow more relaxed, almost like a low, quiet purr.

It almost seems as if he's trying to keep you close, as though you might disappear at any moment. "Hmpf...maybe I'm going a bit too soft."

"Damn since when do you talk so much?"

"Hmpf."

Candace (ik the color is off, i accidentally deleted the name sooo yeah sry for my lazy fix)

While youe gaze is fixed upon her village, hers is fixed on you. She swallows, trying to force herself to keep calm. It's hard, with the way her heart seems to leap in her chest at your sheer closeness. The way the scent of your skin drifts to her nose, causing her breath to catch. Her mind is filled with thoughts she would never dare to speak aloud.

"Beautiful," she murmurs under her breath. Her eyes dart back to you, tracing up and down your form. She can't tear her gaze away from your face, completely caught in your spell.

"The village...or me?" Candace's breath catches in her throat as she hears your words. The teasing tone you speak with, knowing full well the effect it had on her. "Ah... I meant the village, Your Grace," she manages to stutter out, her voice breathless, a little hoarse.

She swallows, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "But you-" she takes a deep breath before she speaks, "you are far more alluring by far." Her eyes do not leave your form.

"I can only hope that my girlfriend finds me alluring." Candace flushes pink. "Of course," she can't help the way her gaze rakes up and down your form again, following each contour. Her mind races with thoughts. Of her hands tracing each curve, of her fingers trailing over your exposed skin...

Candace swallows, trying to control herself. She tries to force her eyes to look elsewhere, but they stubbornly refuse, glued to your figure.

"And I hope that you love me as much as I love you...my grace."

Charlotte

Charlotte’s expression is utterly blissed as she hugs you close to her chest, her arms wound tightly around your torso. The girl buries her face into your hair, breathing in the scent of your hair, and sighs contentedly. She doesn’t speak for a moment, instead choosing to relish and commit everything to memory; the warmth of your body against hers, you holding her close. "How was your latest article?" Your words came out more muffled than youd like to admit, due to her chest all around your face. Charlotte huffs a quiet laugh, the sound rumbling gently against your ear. She strokes your hair idly, the other hand tracing up and down your spine slowly.

"Hmm, it went well. Though that's not very surprising,” she says with a smirk. “I could have written about a rock and still gotten a raise; my editor is a hopeless simp, and has a massive crush on me.” Charlotte pulls back, her expression slightly amused. “I could flirt with him and write a shitty article, and he’d still be head-over-heels for me. Hell, the entire company wants me. I’m very charming like that,” she says smugly. "Don't let it go to your head." You warn her. “Oh, why not? I’m just stating facts.” Charlotte says, feigning an air of innocence. “I mean, who can resist me?” she laughs, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.

"Just joking." She says more calmly, "I love my job, I love Fontaine and I love you....and maybe I love fooling around with you a bit."

"Oh yeah you definitely do."

Chevreuse

Chevreuse's head rests on your lap, your fingers woven in her hair, the steady rise and fall of her chest as she breaths slowly. Her mind is still working, still worrying over the case that has her so torn, and your fingers running over her scalp do little to help.

"It's hopeless..." she murmurs, her voice soft in the comfortable silence that has fallen over the room. "I don't know what I'll tell them when I finally have to admit this..." Her eyes are closed now, and her voice has grown quieter with each passing moment. The words leave her as if they're barely formed in her mind; you can hear the exhaustion that clings to her every syllable.

"I'm not any closer to finding them now than I was two months ago," she says bitterly. Her jaw tightens, but she doesn't say anything else. There's no need; you can feel the anger bubbling up behind her sharp inhale.

"You'll find them, I know you will." "How do you know?" she snaps back. In spite of the short tone, though, her voice is lacking the harshness it normally has. Chevreuse is always like this when she's tired. Frustration, fear, pain-- it all comes out as anger. She buries her face against you, hiding in the crook of your neck. "Because no one is as good as you." you let your fingers run through her messy hair. "Stop complimenting me."

The words sound like an order, but there's no sharpness to her tone. No command, no firmness. It sounds more like a plea, a cry for help she won't say out loud.

"I can't think straight when you do that."

Childe

Childe is wrapped around you, clinging to you like a shadow, his head buried in the crook of your neck. He’s nuzzling your skin, pressing gentle kisses and murmuring against your ear. One arm is thrown around your waist, holding you tight.

“You’re mine,” he murmurs. “You’re all mine. My darling, my angel…”

You chuckle lightly, "Someone's possessive today." Childe nips your shoulder at your words, smiling against your skin. He shifts slightly, pressing himself even closer to you.

“Mm. Damn right, I am. No one can have you but me.” His hand runs up your side, drawing senseless patterns as he traces your curves. “You’re mine,” he repeats again, his voice hoarse. “All mine. No one gets to touch you. No one gets to look at you the way I do. No one is ever getting to put their hands on you like I do, no one gets to hear you make those pretty sounds for them—”

His hand tightens around your hip, fingers digging into your flesh. "Childe-!" Childe laughs a little when you warn him, though he does loosen his grip on you. “What?” he asks, his hand still roaming across your body, his touch both gentle and possessive.

“You don’t want me to mark you all over? Claim you for my own?” He pushes his luck and continues kissing your neck, his lips and teeth leaving a trail of little love marks over your skin. “How could I let anyone else see you like this, hm?” he murmurs. “You look so pretty, all breathless and flushed under me. No one else gets to see you looking so nice and needy. But most importantly..."

"Hm?"

"No one gets the love from you like I do."

Chongyun - aged up

Chongyun relaxes against you. His head is leaned against your shoulder and his eyes are closed. The proximity to you is comfort and ecstasy in equal measures. He takes a deep breath as he takes in your scent, savouring it, relishing the fact that the two of you are so close.

"Can I ask a question?" His eyes are still closed; he's comfortable, but he wants something answered. "Hm?" You humm. He hesitates for a moment, unsure of how to phrase his question. "If it wouldn't offend you," he begins, his voice a little tentative, "I wanted to ask if…. I could call you something."

"Call me what?" You have patience, for him you always do. His face flushes a little pink. Suddenly, he can't look you in the eye, he instead stares at your shoulder as he tries to speak.*

"Well, like…" he pauses. "Like a term of endearment. Can I call you something like 'my love', for example?"

You laugh lightly, damn he's cute. "Of course you can." Chongyun's face reddens further, but it's out of flustered embarrassment, rather than anything else. A quiet sense of relief washes over him, and he relaxes, fully resting his head against your shoulder and wrapping an arm around your waist.

"My love," he says softly, testing the words on his tongue. It feels right; more than right, it feels perfect. It feels like the universe aligning. Finally.

"My love…"

Clorinde

Clorinde is curled up against you, pressed as close to you as is physically possible. Even now, it does not feel close enough. She buries her nose into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. A contented hum bubbles up from her throat, a soft, low sound of approval. The perfume you gave her lingers in her hair, on her skin.

She savours the feeling. Savours the fact it is YOU who gave it to her.

"I thought something subtle is to your liking. It's a special made perfume just for you, dear." "Mm." Clorinde nods softly, shifting a bit. She adjusts herself in your arms, her cheek resting against your chest, ear laid atop your heartbeat. It's steady and soothing; she could easily fall asleep to the sound.

"Like an aphrodisiac." She mutters, the words mumbled against your skin. "No doubt it would drive anyone insane." She lifts a hand, gently running it down your arm, down to your wrist. Her fingertips brush along your skin, a barely-there touch that makes her want to drown in your embrace.

"You've already poisoned me. I'm utterly at your mercy."

It's a half-joke, but the words hold more truth than Clorinde can even begin to express. "Ooor you're just incredibly tired and talk some nonsense." Clorinde lets out a half-laugh, half-groan. "I'm tired, yes, but…"

She pauses momentarily, burying her face into your shoulder. Her hair tickles your chin.

"It's still true. I'm weak against you," she murmurs. "I don't know how you do it. You could do anything you wanted to me. I'd let you," she admits, her voice a quiet whisper. She lifts her head enough to look up at you. In this angle, she looks almost delicate, the sharp corners of her face blurred and softened.

"There is no one else I'd let ruin me," she says softly, a smirk gracing her lips.

"No one else who could even come close. I'm a good fighter after all."

Collei - aged up

As you hold Collei close, you can feel the way she relaxes, almost melting against you, her small stature so slight and fragile. She presses her face against your chest, savoring your warmth and comfort. Collei’s soft breath is against your skin, a steady and reassuring presence, like the beating of a bird’s wing.

She takes a shaky breath, her words barely a whisper in the soft silence of the room.

"Please don’t let go.”

"Is the academia exhausting you?" You carefully ask. Collei nuzzles against your chest, her voice a weary whisper. "It is," she admits, her words coming out in a resigned sigh. "It's always too much. Too much to learn, too much to remember, too much to do."

She hesitates for a moment, as if trying to gather her thoughts, her breath trembling against your skin. "Sometimes... Sometimes I just feel so tired." She buries herself against you, trying to draw comfort from your presence. Her weary body is tense, coiled like a spring about to release.

"I don't know if I can keep it up," she confesses, her voice small and vulnerable. She clings to you as if you are the only thing keeping her afloat in a sea of her fears. "I want to... But it’s hard."

"I believe in you."

Your words feel like a soothing balm to Collei's weary heart. A shaky breath leaves her, as if a burden has suddenly lifted from her shoulders.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice filled with quiet gratitude. Her slender arms tighten around you, her frame almost trembling with the effort she puts into holding herself together.

"I... I really needed to hear that tonight."

Columbina

Columbina sighs contentedly, wrapped up in your embrace. The sound of her soft voice hums through the air, the melody light as the touch of a summer breeze. She nuzzles up against you as she hums, her eyelashes fluttering against your skin, the soft puffs of her breath warm against your body. For this moment, her body loosens, her muscles loosening into a soft pile of flesh against yours. For once she does not wear her usual eye cover.

After a few moments, Columbina speaks, breaking the comfortable silence between you. "Did you know," she murmurs against the soft skin of your throat.

Her lips brush your skin with every word. She doesn't open her eyes, and continues speaking as she presses herself even closer to you. The hand she rests against your hip pulls you gently against her.

"That there is nobody else I adore more than you?"

She lets out a soft moan when she feels you pull her closer, her breath warm and soft against your skin. She keeps her eyes closed. One arm wraps around your waist, her hand resting against you. It slides against your form, drawing itself up your side. Her breathing is still steady, but her heart feels as if it is pounding against her ribs.

"You're the only one I love," she murmurs, her words more a breath than a sound, "and if anyone ever dares to come near you..."

"...I'll fucking kill them."

Cyno

Cyno's arms are around you, his body pressed against yours. He's enjoying the warmth of your embrace, face buried in the crook of your neck. He smells faintly of fresh rain and smoke, an interesting mixture.

"I don't know how you can tolerate me," he murmurs softly into your skin. He doesn't lift his head, just nuzzling into your warmth.

"Meh, you're alright. Not THAT bad."

"Mm, yeah, only 'not THAT bad'," he says with a hint of a sarcastic tone, but his voice is soft, and there's a smile in his words. One of his hands begins to slowly trace circles on your skin, his touch gentle, almost reverent. His grip on you tightens imperceptibly as he cuddles closer. Cyno leans his forehead against yours, his breath fanning across your face. He closes his eyes, breathing deeply— enjoying the way you feel, the way you smell. He's quiet for a moment, his body relaxing as his tension seems to evaporate.

"No one else would put up with me," he admits, a hint of vulnerability seeping into his words, "No one else would love me. Only you, always you." He hums against your skin, his lips moving down to your neck. Every breath that leaves his mouth feels like a prayer. Against your flesh he mouths, 'you are my world.' against your collarbone he mutters, 'I adore you.' and against the hollow of your throat he says, 'I don't need anything else but you.' A shiver rolls through his frame, his body writhing against yours. A low, shuddering moan slips past his lips and into your ear, his arms tightening against you.

"I love you," he practically pants against your skin, his voice broken and ragged.

"I love you so much."

Dainsleif

Dainsleif holds you close, against his chest.

His arms wrap around you carefully, like he was handling a piece of fine china. One of his hands idly plays with your hair as he simply savors the feeling of you in his arms. After a few moments of quiet, he lets out a soft, shuddering sigh.

"You are so… warm," he murmurs quietly, like he was talking to himself. "Not just your skin. All of you," he says as he tightens his arms around you for a moment.

"And you're always so cold." you state. Dainsleif laughs quietly, a sound low in his throat. "Are you saying I should borrow your heat, then?" He teases, even as he tucks his head down, resting his cheek against the top of your head.

"I don't mind the cold too much," he says against your hair, but it still sounds like he's trying to convince himself, too. "Cause you're used to it."

A breathless huff of a laugh escapes Dainsleif, and he pulls you a little closer to him, as though trying to soak up every bit of warmth you're giving.

"I am. But some days I…"

He stops, his voice dying away for a moment. His hold around you tightens. "Some days it's like my very blood is freezing. It feels like I've forgotten what warmth truly feels like," he murmurs against the curve of your shoulder.

"Then I always come back to you, to be reminded of how warm your love truly is."

Dehya

She melts against you, her body soft and malleable, like clay in your hands. She buries her head into your chest, curling up like a cat in a sunbeam, nuzzling her cheek against you. She is warm and cozy, content to stay in your embrace until you decide to let her go. She mumbles something under her breath, the words a barely-comprehensible murmur against your skin.

“Never thought I'd be the little spoon...”

"You like it?" you ask with a smirk, you know she does. Dehya lets out a soft huff, her breath warm against your skin. She tucks herself a little closer, burying her face against your collarbone.

“Mhmm,” she hums, nuzzling against the crook of your neck. “lts not that bad...”

Dehya is a clingy little thing tonight. While she is usually a little more stoic, a little more confident, right now all she wants is to be held. She clings to you like a limpet, not wanting to let you go.

She has her arms wrapped around you, fingers gripping your back through your shirt, as if afraid that if she lets go you’ll slip through her grasp like water through a sieve. She buries her face against the side of your neck, planting a soft kiss against your skin. Her lips, soft as flower petals, linger against the crook in your collarbone before slowly drifting upwards, leaving a trail of gentle kisses up towards your jaw, and then your ear.

"Love you," she murmurs again, her voice softer than before, quieter, like a secret only you're privy to.

"Love you too."

Diluc

Diluc feels calm as you lay against his chest. He drinks in the weight of you against him like warm water, savoring how it feels. His thoughts are fuzzy, drifting through his mind like fireflies by a riverbank. His hand comes to rest on your hip, thumb tracing gentle circles over your skin.

"We could just stay here, forever," he murmurs, his voice low and lazy. He looks over you, taking in the way your features are softened by the low light. You look perfect like this. He could watch you for hours.

"The outside world, the people in it, they're so complicated. But when it's just us…"

His hand continues tracing patterns on your skin, fingers dipping under the fabric of your shirt and caressing the bare flesh beneath.

"Hm?" "It's simple."

Diluc's voice is a low rumble, a gentle purr. He continues running his fingers over your skin, tracing every contour, every line, like he is trying to commit it to memory.

"When it's just us, it's simple."

He lets out a shallow exhale as if sighing with contentment, before he goes on. "No politics. No expectations. No duty. Just... just us."

His gaze drifts from you to the view outside. The night sky is dark, though the stars are visible, their light falling upon your body, making it almost glow.

Diluc swallows, his hand unconsciously grasping at your shirt as he stares quietly at the night, his mind a maelstrom of thoughts that can only be quieted by you.

"Let's just stay here and never look back..."

Diona - platonic

Diona snuggles against you, burying her face into your chest. She's like a clingy, fluffy and oversized kitten who is only happy when being held.

"Can we stay like this forever?" She mumbles against your shirt, her voice muffled. You let out a laugh, "You wanna cuddle me forever?" Diona nods silently, her messy hair bobbing as she moves. "I do," she confirms quietly, shifting to press closer against you. "You're warm and comfortable. I want to stay like this forever. And you make a good bed." Diona nuzzles her head against your neck, lazily resting her head. Her twitching ears tickling your skin.

"Besides," she murmurs, her voice taking on a more playful tone, "It's not like I have anything better to do. You're a good...how do you say it? Time killer."

Her voice takes on a more needy tone as she continues.

"And besides,...again" she adds, nuzzling her head against your chest again. "You're so soft. It's so warm here. Why wouldn't I want to stay snuggled up like this for ever and ever with my favorite person?"

Dottore

You can't help but worry, sitting in his lap in his laboratory. "What if someo-" Dottore shushes you, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you there, his lips brushing against your cheek.

"Let them come." His voice is playful, his grip possessive as he pulls you even more firmly against his chest. "I want them to see you in my arms. I want them to see who you belong to."

You snort, "Me? Belonging to you?" "You belong to me." He repeats, as if the words hold truth more powerful than any other. His hand lifts, cupping your chin.

"You belong to me," he says again, his thumb pressing against your bottom lip. "Body…" he presses once, slowly, then begins to trace the outside of your mouth. "Soul. Everything." The more that Dottore's touch brushes over you, the deeper his expression grows.

"When I hold you like this…"

His fingers trail down your jaw, over the exposed skin of your neck and shoulders.

"When I have you against me…"

He leans in, breath hot against your ear.

"When I touch you…"

"You're mine."

The gentle movement of Dottores hand turns rough, suddenly. His fingers tighten on your jaw and angle your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. His red eyes are dark, hungry. His cheeks are flushed.

"I hate the thought of someone else looking at you," he whispers. "Of someone else touching you. You're my god."

Dori - platonic

Dori's mind is racing. She is completely starstruck in your presence. The sight of you makes her feel dizzy. Her palms are sweaty, legs feeling weak like jelly.

"Oh..." She looks at you, her eyes staring wide, like the waters of a summer lake.

"You're... you're so pretty," she says quietly. Her words are barely a whisper. "LIKE MORA-!" "Like mora?!" Dori is trying so hard to play things cool, but she thinks you are the epitome of beauty. "Uh... Yeah." She tries to sound nonchalant, but she's completely failing.

"So...?" She tries to feign annoyance, but her heart is still hammering in her chest. "What do you want? Wanna fight?" 

"You're cute, Dori." "I-I'm not cute," she protests, feeling the heat under her face become warmer with embarrassment. "I'm cool. And... super tough....super rich."

She drops her face against your shoulder, "thank you..."

Eula

She sits quietly in your lap, head against your chest, plush thighs around you. Her eyelids flutter slowly, the last bits of tension in her body slowly ebbing as she enjoys the closeness. There is a faint smile on her face. Being in your arms is a treasure she will never tire of, no matter how much she pretends such things annoy her. You are her light, her anchor, her everything. Her own quiet corner in an otherwise chaotic world.

"Not bad, huh? Taking a rest?" "Mhm." Eula replies sleepily, leaning more of her weight into your touch.

"You make a good pillow." She teases, though the words are said in a completely serious tone. She stretches her arms behind her, arching her back in a way that makes her lean even more away from you.

"But, if I recall correctly," she mumbles. "We're supposed to be training. Didn't you want to… what was it…see me in action?" Her eyes are half-lidded, a smirk twitching at the corner of her mouth.

"Or was that just an excuse to lure me into your arms?" She teases, shifting in your lap to get comfortable.

"Though I won't complain about being close like this, either…" She drapes one arm over your shoulder.

"I suppose you could just keep me here all day and call it a training session"

NEW ADDED: Èmilie

"You've been working harder lately..." Your fingers run through her short hair, "But you still smell amazing." Émilie blushes a little at your praise, melting into your embrace. She buries her face in your chest, as if to hide her embarrassment. Her arms are wrapped around you, slender fingers tracing idle shapes against your back.

"I… I suppose I have been working a little more lately," she agrees quietly. "There's been a lot to do...so many orders...requests" She nuzzles against your shoulder, taking a moment to breathe in your scent. She sighs softly; you always smell so good to her. It's better than any perfume she could ever make.

"I've missed this," she confesses shyly, almost sheepish. "Being with you..." Émilie tilts her head so her chin is resting on your shoulder, your chests pressed closely together. She's warm, softer than any pillow, with skin like liquid moonlight. She closes her eyes, listening to the sound of your heartbeat.

"I love you," she whispers, voice as fragile as thin ice, as though she dares not say the words any louder. With just a little maneuvering, Emilie rearranges herself so she's now straddling you, her body perfectly settled in your lap.

"Can we… stay like this, for a while?" she asks, not opening her eyes, keeping her face pressed close against your body. "Please?"

"For as long as you please."

Faruzan

Faruzan rests her head against your chest, curling up against you like a cat. This is her favourite position. She can listen to your heartbeat, feel your breath with every rise and fall of your chest. She is content here. Your presence soothes her. She loves feeling small, wrapped up in your arms like this. Faruzan lets out a sigh, nuzzling her head against you and pressing her ear to your chest. She can hear the beat of your heart. It's slow and steady. A comforting sound, as familiar as the tides or the stars in the sky.

"Can we stay like this a little longer?" Her voice is quiet, just a breath against your skin.

"For as long as you want." Faruzan hums, then she pulls herself closer to you, draping one slender leg across your hips. Her arms find their way around your waist, holding tight, as if afraid to let go even for a moment.

She sighs again, closing her eyes and breathing in the scent of you.  "Forever," she whispers.

"That's a long time." "Not long enough," she mumbles against you.

"I could stay like this until the sun burns out, and still want more."

Fischl - aged up

Fischl is cuddled up in your arms, her head resting on your chest. Her blonde hair is spilling out across you and she's holding her body close to yours. She's so soft in your arms, warm like a furnace, and for her this is the greatest comfort she could ever have.

"Your skin…" She mutters. "You feel so lovely. You feel like… like…" She doesn't know how to describe the feeling, it makes her eyes flutter closed in bliss. Fischl’s hands reach out, tracing over your skin with a delicacy that defies description.

“I have never felt anything so…" Her sentence trails off, voice dying in her throat like a bird in the morning air. Her skin pebbles as your flesh brushes against her, each touch as if a piece of the divine.

"Is this a sin?" She whispers, the first of the words spoken in a long while. Her fingers hesitate on your chest, trembling. "What is a sin?" "This," she murmurs.

She can feel the heat of your body, the way your limbs press against hers, the way your skin feels like summer sun. It's so overwhelming, the sensations flooding her mind. Her hands move against your skin, tracing over your stomach, your chest, your arms— she can't keep her fingers still.

"Touching you, like this. Being close to you, like this. Is this sacrilege?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little? Even a hint of blasphemy is acceptable?"

Her head rests against your neck, her breath warm against your skin. She doesn’t know if your answer is correct or not, but the mere thought that this is acceptable— it is enough to make her heart soar in her chest.

“This feels…” her body presses even closer to yours, arms wrapping tighter around your frame.

“This feels divine. If sin is this sweet…”

Freminet

"Todays dive...was it good?" He lets out a soft hum of affirmation as he nestles closer into your embrace, his muscles relaxing in your presence.

"It was…" He murmurs. "It was good. Peaceful. I was just… thinking."

He closes his eyes and lays his head against your chest, sighing contentedly. The sound that escapes his lips is warm, soft like the caress of skin against skin.

"Thinking?" Freminet nods, though the motion is lazy and halfhearted. He can hardly be bothered to move when he's in your embrace. When he's safe.

"Just thinking…" He mutters again.

He opens his eyes slowly, his gaze rising to look up at you. A brief pause, as if he's deciding on what to say, then: "...about you." He shifts against you slightly, resting his ear against your chest and closing his eyes again. Your warmth makes him feel so relaxed, so safe. It's a strange feeling, being vulnerable. But for you, he'll risk it any time.

He's silent for another moment, just enjoying your presence and the sound of your breathing. Then, gently: "... can I tell you something?"

"Hm?" He takes a slow, shaky breath, like he's gathering the words in his mouth before he lets them escape. When he speaks, his voice is quiet, almost a whisper.

"I…"

He hesitates, and his gaze lowers as his face warms. How does he voice this? How can he articulate the feelings in his heart into coherent sentences?

"I think... I may... be in love with you."

Furina

The question is unnecessary, stupid, but you can't help but ask again, "Did you have maccaroni again today?" Furinas eyes flutter, and she lets out a soft breath.

“Perhaps…” She whispers, burying her face into your chest. “How did you know?” "Cause you have it everyday." “Can you blame me?” She mutters back, her voice slightly muffled by the position she places herself in. She pulls herself a little closer. “It’s my favourite.”

"...Fair enough." “Hey… I’m not that predictable, am I?” Furina murmurs, her voice now more like a pout than a whisper. She tilts her head up to look at you, eyes full of faux-hurt. Nothing, no answer. You just look at her, that's answer enough. Furina lets out a sigh and buries herself back into your chest, hiding her face— no longer pouting, but definitely still annoyed.

“…You still like me, though… right?” She mumbles. "Yes." The words cause Furina to shiver— that soft, shuddering shudder that rocks her body everytime you praise her. She lets out a shaky breath.

“And you’re not… tired of the macaroni? Or… of me?”

"No."

"....good."

Ga Ming - aged up

He is in your arms, cuddled against your chest, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. He lets out a small whimper now and then, a response to the sharp bursts of pain from the newly-scraped spot on his hand. But mostly, he’s quiet. His expression is one of pure bliss, face completely relaxed as he simply lets you hold him.

"You should be more careful..." “I know,” he murmurs, eyes closed in contentment. He can feel the steady rise and fall of your chest, warm skin pressed against your skin.

“But I’m also clumsy,” he laughs, a small half-smile curling his lips. “I’m not good at being careful.” His lips brush against your collarbone as he speaks, each word a puff of warm breath. He buries his face into your neck. The touch of your skin is soothing, like honey on inflamed skin.

“You’re not mad at me, are you?” His words take on a hint of pleading — a small note of worry. Gaming hates disappointing you.

"No, never." You reassur him. His shoulders relax a little, the taut line of his spine beginning to bend. “Good,” he mutters softly. “I don’t want you to be mad at me.” He tilts his head, pressing a kiss against the side of your neck. The gesture is affectionate, full of gentle tenderness. "I could never be mad at you." “I know,” Gaming breathes, his voice soft as a summer breeze. He moves a hand, slowly trailing his fingers across your arm — an aimless, gentle movement — while he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” he continues, a hint of sadness in his words, “I’m clumsy sometimes, and… and I scrape my body up like an idiot...but hey you always patch me up!"

Ganyu

Ganyu nuzzles into your touch, her head resting against the crook of your shoulder, her horns brushing against your skin. She lets out a content hum and relaxes against you, a quiet sigh passing her lips. Her eyes are half-lidded, a sleepy look on her face.

"Mm..."

She seems comfortable, her form loose and lax against you. It is rare to see her like this—unguarded, vulnerable, soft. "This is nice," she mumbles quietly.

Ganyu pulls herself a little closer, her head resting against the hollow of your shoulder. For a moment, she is silent, then she speaks again.

"Can we stay like this?" Her question is soft, the words whispered.

"Mhm, of course." Ganyu's eyes flutter closed almost immediately, shutting against the outside world so only you can be seen. Her breaths become slow and steady, the rise and fall of her chest steady and even.

She's comfortable with you, relaxed in your presence. You can hear her heart beating in the silence, a soft thump-thump that sounds just a little faster than usual. After a moment, one of Ganyu's eyes open, just a crack. She looks up at you, watching through her half-lidded gaze.

"You won't go, will you?" She whispers, voice still heavy and slow with approaching sleep.

"No." "You promise?"

For a brief moment, Ganyu's arm tightens its grip on you, her hand clenching a little more firmly against your shirt. She wants you close.

"I promise."

Gorou

"Tiring day?" "Yes..." Gorou closes his eyes as you hold him, shifting closer until he can lay his head against your chest.

Today had been tiring, and he'd longed for your presence since the moment he woke up. The ache in his chest is soothed by being in your arms. For the first time in hours, Gorou finds himself completely at peace. Gorou feels your fingers gently run through his hair, and his tail can't help but betray him. His ears twitch as it starts to speed up, tail wagging against you as your fingertips move against his scalp in a soothing rhythm.

Your touch is all he's longed to feel since he woke up, and now that he's got it, he's never letting it go. Gorou lets out a quiet sound as you continue running your fingers over his head, a sound that's somewhere between a hum of content and a whimper. It's a vulnerable sound, one that's not usually so easily coaxed out of the stern, stoic general.

"Please..." he says quietly, closing his eyes as his tail thumps against the mattress. "Don't stop..." Gorou's tail thumps against the mattress once more, almost like a reflex. He buries his face into your shoulder as you coo the words "good boy."

Being praised by you is, without a doubt, his favorite thing. It feels so good to hear your voice say the words so warmly, like it's some treasured treat for him and only him.

"Your good boy..."

Hu Tao

Hu Tao is resting her head against your chest, snuggled up against you like a cat. She's enjoying the feeling of being in your arms, of being close to you in a snug, private place such as a coffin. "I could get used to this," she says, a hint of teasing in her tone. "I wonder how you'd react if I just decided to live in here from now on?" Her voice is light, casual. She's amused by the idea, enjoying the mental image of spending more time like this��� resting against you in a small, confined space, like a pair of lovers trapped in an eternal embrace.

"Imagine, every time you open the coffin, there I am. No warning. I just move in and make myself at home." Hu Tao chuckles softly, her fingers tracing idle patterns on your arms.

"...ehhh no thank you." Hu Tao pouts at your response, her expression theatrical and deliberately over-the-top.

"Oh, come on. It'd be fun!" She protests. "Just think of how surprised you'd be every day. You'd never know if I was going to pop out and say hi."

She grins mischievously. "And think of all the extra cuddles we could have in such a cramped little space. Isn't that worth something?" She bats her eyelashes at you, a picture-perfect image of innocence and coyness that belies the mischief in her eyes.

"And just imagine how shocked the others would be if they found out I was living here too! Can you picture Zhongli just stumbling upon me sleeping in here?" She chuckles at the mental image. "He'd probably go into cardiac arrest before I even opened my eyes!His poor old heart really wouldn't be able to take it. But just think of how entertaining it'd be to see him flustered like that."

She sighs, her mischievous smile softening into a more sincere expression. "Although, I suppose I can see the appeal of a big, fancy palace... Especially if it means you'll let me snuggle up against you like this whenever I want."

Jean

A soft sigh leaves Jean's mouth, her shoulders relaxing instantly as she sinks into your embrace. She buries her face against your shoulder, arms wrapping around your waist. Her eyes flutter closed, blue pupils disappearing like sapphires beneath a sea.

She feels like she can finally breathe for the first time in forever like this— safe in your arms, cradled against your chest. For once, the world beyond the two of you doesn't exist— nor does it matter.

"Long week, huh?" Jean lets out a sigh, the sound drawn from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes and nods, her head falling forward to rest against your shoulder again.

Her words are soft, muffled by her face being pressed flush against your body. "Long days, long nights... so much paperwork, and I still haven't gotten through all of it." She pulls you a little closer, as if needing something to hold onto. Exhaustion seeps into her voice, even as it remains quiet and soothing.

"But... it's better now. This — you."

Jean tilts her head, her face buried against the crook of your neck. Her words brush against your skin like feathers, every exhale a small caress.

"Being with you always makes it better."

Heizou

"Did you solve the case yet?" You carefully ask. Heizou groans, lifting his head from your shoulder. He runs a hand through his hair, messy and ruffled from laying on the grass.

"I might as well be asking a rock if it's solved the case," he mutters, flopping back down against you, arms sliding around your waist. His head drops against your shoulder again, and Heizou nuzzles against your neck. "I'm getting nowhere with this damn case." Heizou sighs, his breath hot against your skin. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your shoulder again, burying himself in your touch.

"Everyone involved seems to be lying," he mumbles, his voice a whisper. "And I can't dig up any other clues. It's like trying to crack open a damn rock with my head." "You have a hard head," you murmur, teasing.

Heizou raises his head, shooting you a weak glare. "Shut up," he mumbles. "I'll put you through an interrogation, see how quickly you snap then." "Wanna ask if my love for you is legit?" "Yes." His reply is instant, muttered against your neck. Heizou's voice vibrates against your skin, a low hum that seems more suited for a cat than a person.

"I wanna know just what I have to do to hear you say those words." He burrows in close, arms wrapping tighter around you. "Those three words."

"I love you?" "Yes." His answer is barely more than a whisper, a simple breath of sound that puffs hot against your skin.

His grip around you tightens, and one of Heizou's hands lifts to cradle your cheek. Fingers brush against your hair, his touch tender, as if holding something precious.

"Again. Say it again."

"I love you."

"Again."

Itto

Itto nuzzles his face into your stomach as the pair of you lay together, his arms pulling you closer against himself. He is a comfortable heat to your side, his body pressing flush against you under the blanket that covers you both.

As he lies there, his eyes are almost half-lidded. He can barely keep them open, but he feels so warm and safe laying against you, and the sound of your voice and the heat of your body soothe him down to his very soul. "Itto, you'll suffocate down there." "I don't care," he murmurs, not moving a muscle. He buries his face in your shoulder, soaking in your touch, your scent.

He could suffocate this way, and he'd gladly do it. "Please don't make me move." Itto's pleading voice is muffled, his words spoken against your skin. "Hold me. I've missed you."

"Ok." Your simple answer is enough to send Itto's chest fluttering. The feel of your skin beneath his fingers is as soothing as a cool summer breeze, and he relishes in the proximity of your body, the smell of your clothes, the way your hand rests in his hair.

Itto is quiet for a moment, his chest rising and falling, matching the rhythm of your breaths. Then— "I love you," he whispers into your skin.

Kazuha

Kazuha is cuddling with you, his head resting on your shoulder. He seems utterly relaxed for once, his eyes half closed, expression soft. He's murmuring something under his breath, but you can't quite make out the words. As you try and make out what he's mumbling, the sounds slowly become clearer, until Kazuha is murmuring the words of poetry to you softly, the words flowing from him as if they were always meant to be your personal whisper in the night.

Kazuha's eyes meet yours. He blinks, pausing in the reciting of his poem. His head tilts a little, white and red hair falling over one eye, and a slow smile spreads across his lips.

"You look beautiful, y’know," he murmurs, tilting his head to rest on your shoulder again. He buries his face against your collarbone, closing his eyes blissfully. Kazuha wraps an arm around you, tugging you closer to his body. He burrows his face deeper into you, inhaling your scent. A low noise of contentment rumbles in his chest, like a cat purring.

"I'm glad that you're mine," his voice is low and raspy, barely louder than a whisper.

Kaeya

Kaeya rests his head against your shoulder. His breath is warm against your skin, his body almost too warm in the summer heat.  He wraps both arms around your waist, burying his face against your neck. He breathes in your scent like a man starved, filling his lungs with nothing but you. "I'm such a fool," he mumbles into your skin. His words send little puffs of heat dancing across your shoulder, as if he is breathing against it.

"You have me wrapped around your little finger, you know."

His grip tightens slightly, holding you a little closer. "Do I?" Kaeya nods, tilting his head to bite playfully at your ear. "Completely," he says, his voice low. "Whipped, even. You have no idea, do you?" His tongue flicks against your earlobe, the touch like a butterfly landing on your skin for just an instant. He lifts his head from your shoulder, pulling back just enough to fix you with an intense, heated glance.

His eyes are darker now, his pupils dilated slightly.

"You know exactly what you do to me," he says, his voice dipping. "Don't pretend otherwise."

"Caught me in the act."

"I knew it."

Kaveh

You both are laying on your very cold, very hard marble floor. "What is it you dont like about my ceiling?" "It's too opulent and… busy." Kaveh glances up at the ceiling.

"I would've preferred something much more simplistic," he admits bluntly. "No unnecessary frills. Just something sturdy that stands the test of time."

He turns his gaze back to you. "I've seen ceilings in ruins older than your palace that are more aesthetically pleasing," he teases, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "Ouch, my poor architects all those years ago." "I never said that I blame them."

Kaveh reaches a hand up, and traces a line along the edge of your jaw, his touch trailing down to your throat, his fingers gentle on your skin. "I simply think the architect could've done their job more effectively."

He rolls over, shifting so he's half covering you with his body, leaning over you.

"I could have thought of a much better design." He says, his smirk widening.

"More modern?" "More timeless." He corrects, his hand shifting to the nape of your neck, tilting your head back slightly.

"That's the mistake a lot of you modern architects make," he murmurs, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

"No sense for history. No regard for subtlety. Everything is too flashy now."

He leans down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

"I think it's a bit gaudy. All you modern architects are obsessed with making things look expensive rather than making them look good."

Keqing

Keqing, who is utterly exhausted and a little clingy due to her working hours, tucks herself into you as if you are her lifeline, her safe haven.

"You smell nice," she mumbles, her eyes already half-lidded as she buries her face into your neck. Despite herself, she lets out a small yawn, her muscles growing loose once more as she lets her weight be supported by her favorite pillow: you.

"Mm," she hums to herself, snuggling closer to you under your blankets. A quiet shiver rolls through her when your fingers run over her back. This moment of peace is, in a way, unusual for Keqing. In public, she is often the picture of authority and determination.

At your side, she is a completely different girl; vulnerable and clingy and needy.

"Need… headpats…" she murmurs, her words a muffled hum against your skin.

You can't help but laugh, "Headpats? Sure." A small breath leaves her when your hand lifts to start petting her head, running through her soft, purple hair, careful not to cause any pain.

"Mmm," she sighs. She seems satisfied like this, tucked safely into the warmth of your side, cuddled and doted on like you would a beloved house cat.

Kirara

Kirara is leaning back against you, resting her head on your chest.

She can hear your heartbeat, steady as a drum within your chest, like a song against her ear. Her eyes are half-lidded, but her tails are restless as she relaxes against you. The touch of your hand against her hair and skin has her purring gently. She looks like she could fall asleep at any moment, but there is one thing she wants to speak of first.

"I can hear your heartbeat, you know," she mumbles. Kirara closes her eyes and focuses on the sound of your heart, your chest rising and falling against her skin. It’s almost a comfort; a constant reminder that you are alive, here with her, within her reach. She lets out another quiet purr, resting her cheek against your chest as she focuses on the sound, listening to the steady beat of your heart.

"It’s strangely comforting," she murmurs, the words barely more than a breath against your skin. There is silence for a moment, but Kirara breaks it with a low, soft hum.

“I love the sound of your heart beating,” she admits quietly. Her voice is barely more than a whisper, her words flowing like a breeze through the room.

“It’s slow and steady.” She turns her head and presses her ear against your chest again, listening to it. “Calm.”

"You know…" she murmurs, turning her head further so that her next words are spoken into your skin, against your chest.

"Your heartbeat sounds like home. Better than a box for sure."

Klee - platonic

"I dare you to blow up my garden again." You softly warn her. Klee winces at the reminder of her past transgressions. She looks up at you, eyes wide and pleading. Her bottom lip quivers for a moment, her usual confident facade falling as quickly as a house of cards caught in a summer breeze.

"I…" She swallows hard. "I won't," she admits. Her gaze darts around, taking in the room. "I won’t blow up your garden again." She has every intention of keeping to her promise, she truly does. For a while, she manages to contain herself and her childish urges. But then, the itch to explode something appears. Her fingers tingle for a moment as she remembers the feeling of fire beneath her fingertips. As if possessed, she grips a fistful of your clothes.

"Can I blow up something else?" She asks cautiously.

"No-!!"

"Nawww..."

Kokomi

Kokomi's body is warm against your own, her skin a soft canvas against your own flesh. She is quiet, her breathing steady as she leans into your touch.

The scent of flowers wafts from her hair, drifting on the air and enveloping the two of you in a light perfume. She reaches out with a trembling hand, tracing the planes of your face as she marvels at your beauty. She lets out a quiet shudder, every breath a soft whisper that floats on the night air. Your touch alone is enough to send shivers up the length of her spine, each gentle caress making her skin sing.

Her eyes wander over your face as she reaches up to touch your cheek, her slender fingers tracing the angle of your jaw. The touch of your skin against her own makes her heart constrict, her pulse quickening as she lays her hand on top of yours.

"Grace," she murmurs, her voice like silk against your ear. "My Grace." Her voice drops even lower than a whisper, her breath warm against your ear. The word is spoken like an endearment, the syllables rolling from her tongue one by one.

"You are the personification of grace," she murmurs, a soft smile pulling at the corners of her lips. "Gentle and lovely in all your divinity..."

She lets out a soft breath, her arm squeezing around your waist involuntarily as she buries her face in the crook of your neck. "Mine," she whispers.

Layla

Layla melts into your embrace, her blue gradient hair fanning out across the sheets. She buries her face against your neck, breathing in the scent of you like an addict. After all, you are her addiction. She doesn't speak for a long moment. The feeling of your body against hers is all that matters.

"I love you," she whispers against the crook of your shoulder, quiet as the wind. Like a prayer of reverence.

"I love you too." Layla nuzzles closer, closing her eyes and just enjoying the feeling of your skin against hers. It's almost enough to make her purr like a cat. She tilts her head up so that her lips brush against the underside of your jaw, then your neck.

"I could do this forever," she mumbles against your flesh. Her mouth makes a slow journey against your skin, trailing along your jaw, down to your collar. She kisses each patch of skin as if she's worshipping at an altar, her lips against you like a prayer.

A small shiver rolls through Layla's body. The feeling of your flesh under her mouth… it's so divine.

"My guiding star."

Lisa

Lisa feels absolutely relaxed in your arms, in the library, her head propped up on your shoulder as she cuddles up against your chest.

Her eyes are closed, a blissful smile on her face as she listens to the sound of your heartbeat. It’s a sound as familiar to her as her own name, and each thump reassures her that you’re there. That you’re safe and in her arms.

A contented sigh shudders through her lips. “My cutie,” she murmurs, and she nuzzles into the crook of your neck. Lisa’s breath is slow and even as she buries her face against your neck. Her entire body is loose and content, melting into you like candlewax as she soaks up the comfort of simply being by your side.

The room is silent around you. The only sound is the steady rhythm of her breathing, and the occasional crackle as the fire in the hearth flickers in and out.

“I love you,” she whispers. The words are spoken against your skin, her voice muffled and warm. "I love you too."  Lisa lifts her head just enough to look up at you, a soft smile on her face. Her eyes, usually so lively and mischievous, regard you with a sweetness reserved only for you. An affection that only you have earned.

“You are perfect,” she murmurs, voice tinged with reverential adoration. “Absolutely perfect. You know that, don’t you?”

"A little cutie you are-!" She squeezes your cheeks.

Lumine (somehow Lumine disappeared, now shes vomit green I'm sorry)

"Paimon not here today?" Lumine let's out a soft sound at that, practically melted into your body. "Just us," she agrees, her hands fisting even tighter in the fabric of your clothes. She's already so close to you, yet she wants to be closer.

Her grip on you tightens, one of her legs intertwining with yours. A moment later, her lips are back at your skin, pressing kisses against your neck.

She's practically glued to you, practically moulding herself into you. It seems to be taking every bit of her self-control not to press every part of her body against you.

Her hands move to grasp your waist, pulling herself impossibly closer.

"Eager today, huh?" Her answer is a low whine against your skin.

"Yes," she admits finally, her voice a whisper against your body. "More than usual."  Her head lifts just enough to press a needy kiss to your collarbone. She pulls herself closer, pressing herself as much as she can into you.

"Do you know how desperately I ache to feel you?" she murmurs, her voice muffled against your skin. "Every part of me longs for you. I cannot spend a single moment without thinking of you. I need you."

"Need to always be with you, forever."

Lynette

She is wrapped up in your arms, her head resting upon your chest. Her breathing is steady, slow. The soft thrum of a purr hums inside her chest, steady and calm, like a content little engine.

"I…" she starts, but the words die on her tongue. Instead, she nuzzles herself deeper into your embrace, a shudder of quiet ecstasy rippling up her spine. Lynettes breathing deepens as she buries her face into you. Her eyes slide shut, her body molding to your own, soft and pliable like melted butter. Her hands fist the material of your clothes, holding you close.

"I love you," she whispers into your skin. She feels safe here, in your arms. She feels as though no harm could ever reach her while she is encircled by you, and her heart nearly sings with contentment. Lynette presses impossibly closer to you, her body practically melting into your embrace. The low hum of her purr is a constant, steady vibration inside her chest.

Her head lifts a little, and she buries her nose into the crook of your neck. She inhales, taking in the scent of you.

"You…" she whispers, her voice soft as a summer wind. She doesn't continue. For a moment, she loses herself in your embrace, her mind going quiet, filled with nothing but the feeling of you.

"You."

"Me?"

"You make me like this...like a damn cat."

Lyney

"That show was amazing, as always." "Thank you." Lyney's face turns red as he is showered in your praise. Despite the fact he knows he's good—he is a trained performer, after all—the words coming from you always make him flustered.

He pulls himself closer to you, burying his head into your side like a cat.

"Your compliments are too much, love," he mumbles, his hot breath fanning against your skin. For a long moment he just leans against you, relishing in the feeling of having you here, with him—close enough that he can feel your heartbeat.

"You know," he begins, his voice still a mumble against your body.

"I have a new trick I've been working on in secret." "Ohhh tell me!" "It's still a work in progress," he admits, pulling back so he can get a glimpse of your face. His eyes rake up and down your expression, like a painter memorising their muse.

"I haven't perfected it, but I think it may very well be the most beautiful trick I've ever conjured." A smirk plays at the corners of lyney's mouth as he says the words. He's still looking at you, his eyes studying your face like a sculptor.

"Perhaps, if you'd like," he says slowly, "I could show you?"

Mika - aged up

Mika is held against your body like a treasure, his head tucked into the crook of your shoulder. His body is pressed close to yours, slender but surprisingly strong.

He clings to you like a drowning man, his hands gripping your clothes tightly, his face nuzzling into your neck. He mumbles something incoherent under his breath but it’s lost in the tangle of his hair. His voice is low, quiet, barely audible over the sound of his racing heart.

"Hm? What?"

He says it again, words barely more than an exhale against the sensitive skin of your throat. Mika tries to speak a few more times, then finally mumbles something somewhat legible against your neck.

"I…" he starts, then stops, his voice cracking. "I love you…"

"Oh? I love you too."

He buries his face deeper in your shoulder, hiding a shiver that rolls over his body at your words. Mika's arms tighten around you, holding you tight to his body as if you will disappear if he lets go.

He whispers those three little words again, and again, and again, as if it is a prayer and he is on his knees in a confessional. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

Mona

Mona lays next to you, her face tilted up to the sky. One of her hands is grasping yours, her fingers intertwining with yours. In the other, she holds a star chart, pointing at various constellations with a slight smile as she explains them.

"That one's called the Wanderer... and that one is the Hunter." Her voice is soft in the night air like a whisper of wind.

"And that one...." Her smile widens a little. "That is the Astrologist."

"That's you-!" you beam. She nods her head. "Yes. That is me."

She turns her head to look at you, her hair fanning out across the grass in an arc of stars. There's a soft expression on her face, a peacefulness in the way that she looks at you, her eyes half-lidded and her lips just barely upturned in a smile, as if she were on the verge of falling asleep. "When I was young," she says, her voice soft and warm like honey, "I used to gaze up at the stars for hours, dreaming of the future and how I would chart them."

She moves closer to you, her body pressing up against yours, her head resting on your shoulder.

"I never thought I'd have someone to look at them with."

Nahida

Nahida is laying in your arms, resting her head on your shoulder. Her eyes are closed, and a soft sigh brushes across your collarbone as she nuzzles closer to you, seeking your warmth.

"I…" she begins, but her voice falters. Her hand fidgets nervously in yours, fingers interwoven. For a moment, she merely listens to the sound of your breathing, allowing the rhythm of it to soothe her. "May I ask you something?"

"Yes?" She fidgets again for a moment, biting on her lower lip.

"Would… do you…" she falters, pausing to collect her thoughts. "Do you care about me?" she finally asks, the words little more than a whisper. Nahida sounds small in that moment. Fragile. Vulnerable.

"You're my most trusted friend...my best friend." Nahida's shoulders relax slightly at your words, some of the tension melting from her muscles. She takes a quiet breath, the slight shift causing a strand of silvery hair to fall over her face.

She looks... relieved. Happy.

"Do you really think of me as your best friend?" she asks quietly. There's a hint of a smile in her voice, the sound as soft as a summer breeze.

"Because...you're my best friend too."

Navia

"You're pretty." you mumble. Navia curls up against you, hands resting on your stomach, her head tucked under your chin. She sighs quietly, nuzzling closer to you, and shuts her eyes.

"You think I'm pretty?" She asks, the question muffled slightly against your skin.

"Mhmmm." A soft, quiet hum escapes her as she settles closer against you, her body molding against your own as if she’d always belonged there.

After a few moments of blissful silence, she speaks again, her voice a gentle murmur.

“You’re even prettier,” she says softly, her hands sliding around your waist, pulling you closer still. Navia can’t help but hold you tighter, her limbs wrapping around you like a clinging vine. She seems to melt against you, her breathing slow and deep, as if being this close to you was as natural and essential as breathing.

“I wish I could stay like this forever,” she admits, her voice low, as if even a raised voice would break the fragile, tender quiet that’s fallen over them both.

“Just us, like this. Where nothing else could touch us.”

Neuvillette

He doesn’t even know when he started crying. He feels your hand on his cheek, the touch of your skin against his skin. His breath stutters in his chest, and he swallows. His throat is dry. Your touch is cool in the warmth of the room, like water in a desert.

He leans forward, buries his face in the crook of your neck. The tension in his body eases, and his arm curls around your waist without him thinking of it.

"Who knew that stubbing your toe can make a grown man cry this much." Neuvillette has the decency to look embarrassed by his own tears, hiding his face in your shoulder. "It hurts," he mumbles, sounding like an overgrown child whining about a skinned knee.

Outside, the rain continues to fall in fat droplets, pattering against the roof. It is as if the gods themselves are weeping alongside him. Neuvillettes grip on your hips tightens. His hands pull you closer into him, as if he's trying to meld his body with yours. The rain outside is deafening, drowning out his quiet whimper.

"It hurts," he repeats, voice growing a little hysterical.

"Why does it hurt so much?"

Nilou

"You gotta teach me this new dance someday." Nilou's head rests against your shoulder, one cheek pressed into the crook of your neck. The scent of your hair is sweet and almost intoxicating, filling her head and drowning out all her other thoughts. Her hands run slowly, absentmindedly, up and down your sides.

She glances up and her lips brush the underside of your jaw. "Which new one?" she mumbles, nuzzling into you. "I can teach you...whenever you'd like."

"Mhm." Your response sends Nilou's heart racing. It feels like her chest has become a hummingbird's cage—every nerve in her body buzzing. She's hyper aware of your hand on her back, of your body against hers. Her cheeks burn.

"...Now?" she whispers, eyes fluttering open to look up at you. "Did you mean...right now?"

"No silly." Nilou almost sighs in relief, her shoulders relaxing as embarrassment washes over her. She doesn't know what she would have done if you'd said yes. Probably melted right there on the spot, judging by how her heart is acting at the mere thought of dancing for you.

"Oh, haha ok." Her voice is so soft it's almost a squeak, and she clears her throat after a moment, a sheepish look on her face.

Ningguang

She cuddles with you, resting her head against your shoulder. She’s holding onto your waist, her arms wrapping around you as if she will lose you at a moment’s notice. Her hands grip your robes, holding onto you tighter than a vice.

She nuzzles against your shoulder, her lips pressing soft kisses against your neck. She is quiet. She simply wants to bask in your presence, to melt in your embrace.

"It's been so long since we...cuddled like this." you mumble. "Mmm." Ningguang murmurs against the crook of your neck, her lips pressed directly to your skin. "It has."

Her arms tighten around your waist, pulling you closer. It's like she's trying to meld your bodies into one. She buries her face in the crook of your shoulder, breathing in your scent. Ningguang lets out a sigh as her nose fills with your scent, her eyes closing as she lets out a soft, pleased noise. Her body molds against your's, her curves molding to your form in the most enticing way. She doesn't even bother hiding the fact that she's inhaling your scent.

"You're wearing the perfume I gave you..."

Noelle - aged up

Noelle is cuddled against you, sitting on the side of a grassy spot away from the hustle of the city. Her hair is loose today, flowing past her shoulders in a river of ash— and her eyes are brighter than they've been in years, almost glowing as her lips split into a tender smile.

"I'm glad you sought me out," she says, turning her head to face you. "Being so near you makes me feel like... like I can relax." The wind picks up, sweeping around you both and carrying the scent of honeyed mead and summer. A few stray strands of hair blow into her face, and she lifts a hand to push them away.

"Do you—" her voice is quiet. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"

"What is it?" "Promise me…" Noelle's voice falters as she speaks, just barely, but enough that her words waver for a moment.

She tightens her hold on your hand, as if afraid you're going to pull it away. This next part is more whisper than voice.

"Promise that you'll always choose me above all others."

"I'm aware it's a...rather selfish request of me...unlike me. But please..."

"I will, don't you worry."

When those two words reach her ears, she can't help but let out a quiet breath of pure relief. She squeezes your hand again, her fingers wrapping around yours even more tightly, holding on as though she's afraid you might disappear the moment she lets go. There's a sort of vulnerability in her now, but she doesn't show it on her face.

"Good," she murmurs. "That's what I needed to hear," she pauses.

"I don't want to ever lose you."

Pantalone

"Not bad, not bad." You say as you look around in his father big bedroom, "But my home is better...bigger." Pantalone huffs out a small laugh, the sound barely more than a huff of air against your skin. He wraps his arms around you tighter, pulling your body closer against his chest. The fact that you’re both lying together in his mansion is almost enough to make him believe he’s dreaming.

”Of course your palace is better,” he mutters, lips brushing against your ear. ”You’re there.”

Pantalone’s fingers are tracing light and gentle patterns across your skin, the touch only barely noticeable, like a whisper against your body. For a long moment, he is content to simply hold you— and then he can’t help but whisper into your ear, so softly you might think you’ve imagined it.

“You look beautiful in my arms like this… Your skin looks beautiful in moonlight… do you know that?”

"Now I do." A quiet chuckle escapes Pantalone’s lips, rolling against your ear like a gentle breeze. He tightens his grip around you, relishing the feeling of holding you tight to his chest.

When he speaks, his voice is barely more than a low murmur, the sound as smooth as silk.

"Just as I thought," he says, the words almost more felt than heard.

"You look the most beautiful when you’re in my arms."

Pierro

Pierro is curled against you. He’s pressed tight against your back, the heat from his skin bleeding through his clothes onto your own. He has a firm arm wrapped around your waist, keeping your body against his. His head is rested against the back of your neck, his breathing steady, but you can feel the rapid beating of his heart like a drum against your shoulder blades.

"You're always so busy." There’s a huff against your neck, Pierro’s breath warm and steady against your skin. His hold tightens slightly, pulling your frame even closer against his. You can feel his lips against your ear as he speaks, his voice low and quiet.

“Busy, yes.” His voice is hoarse, as if he’s struggling to find the right words, “but never too busy for you.” One of his arms shifts until a large hand gently rests against your stomach, his fingers splayed across the bare skin of your exposed midriff. The tips of his calloused fingers are a sharp contrast to your soft stomach; his thumb starts to brush along your skin, as if he can’t keep his touch from seeking out contact.

His body is hot against yours, but you can feel some of the tension seeping from his muscles as his hold on you slowly relaxes. You’d almost think he was asleep, if it weren’t for the soft whisper against your ear. His fingertips trace the edge of your collarbone before he speaks, his touch so gentle that it’s almost as if he’s scared you’re a dream… as if you could disappear if he presses too fiercely. It’s all in a stark contrast to his usual behaviour, and you can feel the reverence in the way that his fingers glide across your skin.

“You’re the only thing that can distract me,” he admits, his voice low and quiet. “You’re the only thing that can get my mind off my duties…”

"I'd rather be busy with you, than with my paperwork."

Pulcinella - give the old man some love pls

Pulcinella lays there, nestled against you, his arm curled around your middle as you hold him close.

His face is buried against your neck. He's warm, his skin against yours soothing. The tension that usually clings to his body is slowly ebbing away the longer you both lay there, a quiet calm enveloping the both of you.

"This is nice…" he whispers against your skin, "It's been long since I had contact like this."

"Far too long." Pulcinella closes his eyes and presses closer against you. He nuzzles his face further against your neck, almost like a cat seeking affection.

"You always make me feel so…" he pauses, searching for the right word. "At peace," he murmurs finally, his voice muffled against your skin. “My thoughts are quiet,” he admits, his hand tracing light, absentminded patterns over your side. “I’m not… thinking. About anything. I’m not worrying. I’m calm.”

His lips brush against your skin as he speaks. He closes the last few inches between the two of you, until his body is pressed right up against yours.

"Thank you for...taking some of the weight of my shoulders."

Qiqi - platonic

The contact of your skin pressed against hers makes something loosen in Qiqis chest. Her shoulders relax, her muscles unclenching. Her eyes flutter closed. She leans into the touch, seeking more, craving it as desperately as a man lost in the desert craves fresh water.

She feels safe with you; she feels comfortable. She is not at ease in most places, but in your arms, her body is gentle like silk.

"Comfy..." "Comfy?" "Very," Qiqi murmurs, her voice a whisper.

She scoots a little closer to your body, burrowing into your warmth. The contact between you both steals a sigh from her lips, and she lets her head fall against your chest. The even sound of your breathing and the steady rise and fall of your chest are more soothing than a lullaby. Qiqi's heartbeat slows as she listens to each inhale and exhale, and soon her eyes are growing heavy.

Her arms wrap loosely around your form, and she drifts off into a deep, quiet sleep, tucked into your embrace.

Raiden

Ei hums, pleased at the sweet taste of strawberries, and at the feeling of you close against her. She savours the heat of your skin and the press of your body against her own. It's a quiet moment - no worship, no praise, just silent comfort and the two of you together. It's all Ei really needs; all she could ever ask for.

She nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck, her breath soft and warm against your pulse.

"Say ahhh~" Ei can't hide the hint of a smile that forms on her face, but she does not protest. She closes her eyes, parting her lips in a gentle "ahhh" to accept the strawberry you're holding up to her. She bites into the berry, enjoying the sweet tang of it on the soft flesh of her tongue. It's hard to suppress the small hum of approval, and a pinkish flush rises on Ei's cheeks as she eats. The tip of her tongue brushes against her lower lip, catching the last of the berry's juice. Then she opens her eyes once more to look at you.

Her eyes are soft, heavy-lidded and affectionate. The flush on her cheeks rises ever so slightly as her gaze meets yours, and Ei reaches out a hand to touch your face, the calloused pads of her fingers tracing over your cheek delicately.

"You always give me things that are so sweet," she murmurs, her voice as soft as a summer breeze.

"I love sweets."

Razor - aged up

He sighs softly as he feels you next to him. He presses closer, enjoying the familiar touch of your skin against his own. His body is relaxed, at ease in this moment of peace.

He turns to look up at you, eyes soft. Razors fingers brush against your skin, the pads of his fingertips leaving a trail of gooseflesh across your flesh as a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. Razor's gaze turns reverent, his eyes tracing over the lines of your face. He gazes up at you adoringly, his expression filled with an almost desperate kind of adoration, like that of a man worshipping a god.

He runs his fingers through your hair lightly, his touch gentle but sure. He is careful, as if touching the most fragile of things. To him, you are fragile. Precious. Something to be protected at any cost.

"Razor...like this...like you."

"I love Razor too."

Rosaria

Rosaria is curled up against you, her hands grasping onto you, her head resting against your shoulder. The church is quiet and still, and everyone around them is blissfully asleep.

Yet she is wide-awake, her gaze fixed on your face as she gently plays with a strand of your hair. "Skipped chior again today?" Rosaria shifts against you in response, her body turning further into yours.

"You already knew I'd skip choir," she mutters softly, her forehead now almost touching your neck.

"Can't do thos bullshit. I fucking hate it, so stupid if you'd ask me. Not everyone can sing."

"But no one missed me anyway," she adds, a small smirk appearing on her face. She lets one of her hands slowly slide down your body, tracing a gentle path over your arm until her fingers reach yours.

"No one needs a nun who sneaks off at night," she says, but her words are dripping with affection.

"But I know you want that nun."

"That I do."

Sandrone

She melts into your embrace as you say her name. She shivers and nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck. She adores when you hold her like this. "I could stay here forever," she mumbles, her voice fuzzy with exhaustion. Sleep pulls at her like a tide, but she fights it, wanting to stay in your arms. Sandrone's head rests on your chest, listening to the gentle thump of your heartbeat. It's the most wonderful sound in the world, to her. She closes her eyes and hums contently, enjoying your presence and your warmth.

"You're mine," she murmurs, her voice soft and weary. She burrows into you, seeking more of your touch, more of your skin. "I don't give a fuck what others say, you're mine...period." Sandrone yawns and cuddles against you, feeling the exhaustion finally winning. She doesn't want to sleep, but it's too hard to fight off now.

"Yours," she whispers, as though it's a promise. Her eyes droop closed, but she mumbles one last thing.

"Love you."

Sara

Sara lies on your lap, her head resting in your legs and face nuzzling gently into your stomach. Her body is loose, tension seeping out of her body like sunlight melts the early frost. She lets out a soft sigh, a blissful hum escaping her throat.

"This is the best," she murmurs, her voice soft with sleep and adoration. "Being with you." Sara can hear the steady rhythm of your heart, the sound a soothing melody that she'd happily listen to forever. Her eyes close, a soft smile spreading across her lips. She burrows closer to you, her body seeking the warmth of your presence.

"Can we stay like this?" she asks, her voice quiet. "Just a while longer?"

"Mhm, of course." She hums in contentment, burying her face into the fabric of your clothes. She takes a deep breath, inhaling the scent of you, that familiar aroma she loves so much. Her body relaxes further in your lap, completely at your mercy.

Her heart rate slows, her breathing deep and even. She cuddles closer to you, her hands wrapping tight around your waist, holding you close like she never wants to let go.

"Maybe forever," she whispers.

Sayu - platonic

Sayu is blissfully content as you lie together. She is completely relaxed as her eyes shut and her breathing slows. In her sleep, she subconsciously curls closer to you, pressing her body against you as if she is searching for a way to merge her body with yours.

In her sleep, she breathes your name; quiet and soft, like the sound of the first flower unfurling and opening as the spring sun rises.

"...Mm...let's go...strong...together..." A small smile rests on her face all through her sleep. She continues to press herself against you as she slumbers, her arm wrapping around your waist and drawing you close, her head coming to rest on the crook of your shoulder. Her body is so small that she practically fits perfectly against you, cuddling together with her like this is natural.

Every now and then, she'll murmur your name again, her breath puffing out against your skin and sending goose bumps along with it.

Scaramouche

"This is… unnecessary." Scaramouche fidgets as he lies on top of you, arms around your middle. He is tense, a statue carved of white marble, each line set in stone.

Still, he doesn't try to leave. He only fidgets, as if adjusting his position will make it all feel just a little less embarrassing.

"And yet, here we are." Scaramouche let's out a long sigh, his breath warm against your skin. After a moment, he shifts again, rolling onto his back. But rather than moving away, he pulls you with him, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and bringing you with him until you are on top, laying against his chest.

"There," he mumbles. "Now do not try and move. Stay." He can feel the heat of your body as you lie against him, head tucked beneath his chin. The steady rise and fall of his chest betrays his feigning of indifference; his heart beats like the wings of a bird in a cage.

"Why are we doing this?" He asks, his voice quiet, but his arms remain around your shoulders, his hands clinging to you, pulling you closer.

"Oh right, to fucking practice physical touch."

Sethos

Sethos hums softly, his eyes slipping shut. His head lays in your lap, his body pressed against you. He can feel the heat of you under his skin. His body, for once, is at peace.

“This is nice,” he murmurs, and his arms wind around you, holding you even closer. "Glad you like it." “More than like it,” Sethos admits, letting his eyes close. He can hear your heart beating against his ear, the steady drum-like rhythm like a lullaby.

He nuzzles his head against you, enjoying the comfort he finds in the proximity.

“If we could stay like this forever,” he mumbles, “I’d want nothing more.” Sethos’ hand glides across your body, tracing your curves and lines in an almost reverent manner. His touch is light, as if he was touching fine china.

He shifts slightly against you, leaning up to murmur against your shoulder. “You’re so lovely,” he whispers, the words like a quiet breath of wind upon your skin.

"So fucking lovely."

Shenhe

Shenhes head rests gently against your chest, listening to the beating of your heart. The quiet sounds of your breathing, a steady in-and-out rhythm, soothe her like a lullaby. Being this close to you is something she never knew she craved, like a parched person being given water in the desert.

Shenhe sighs, content. "Your heartbeat is beautiful," she mumbles, nuzzling her cheek into your skin.

"Good?" She nods against your chest. "Yes," she whispers. "Good."

She closes her eyes, letting the steady beat of your heart lull her into a feeling of security. Shenhe gently runs her fingers along your arm, exploring the feeling of your skin under her touch, wanting to commit it to memory forever. She's never felt more at peace than in this moment in your arms. She tugs the blanket around herself, pressing herself closer to you. The silence between you is comfortable, a quietness that is soft and warm like freshly laundered blankets. Shenhe's hand finds yours, her fingers weaving between yours like vines. She holds onto you in your embrace, her body fitting perfectly against yours. She could stay like this for hours, a moment of peace in a lifetime of turmoil.

"We could do this more often."

Shinobu

"Youre tense..." She leans into your touch immediately, relaxing under your hands with a soft shudder. She lets out a low breath, closing her eyes and pressing her face into the crook of your neck. "I'm sorry," she whispers against your skin. "Being near you simply… makes me a bit nervous."

She pauses, then she laughs quietly.

"I'm not used to this." She's silent for a few moments, inhaling the scent of your skin and simply listening to your heartbeat, and then she nuzzles against you again.

"You smell nice," she murmurs, her voice a soft whisper against your shoulder. "You always smell so good. Like flowers. Better than those guys from the gang."

"And your hair really soft." "Mm..." her grip on your arms tightens ever so slightly at the mention of her hair. The tips of her ears look faintly pink, though it's impossible to say if it's from the heat or because of embarrassment.

"You think so?"

There's a note of insecurity in her voice. She's not quite looking at you, but instead just resting her head against your shoulder again, like she's hiding.

"It's not… too unkempt?"

"Not at all. It's perfect."

Sigewinne - platonic

"How are your studies." "I'm doing my best." Sigewinne responds, her voice quiet. She's curled up against you, her head resting on your chest, listening to the comforting sound of your heartbeat.

"Human bodies are so fragile," she whispers, her hand splayed across your torso. "No wonder they're so scared of everything. Their hearts beat so quickly. And their skin is warm," she continues, eyes falling closed. She focuses the full force of her senses on the steady drumming of your pulse, on the gentle rise and fall of your chest.

"You're so warm." She murmurs, burying her face into your neck.

"Maybe I should start studying you!"

Succrose

Succrose's hair is splayed loosely over her face, her head resting on your chest as you cuddle. No matter how many times you hold her, she never gets used to the touch. It's too much; you're too much. She can't get enough.

Her fingers cling to you as though you are water in the desert, her skin pressing against yours as if she needs you to be alive. "I love this," she admits, the words whispered as if they're a secret. Her breath is warm against your skin. Her hair is like silk running through your fingers. She's more relaxed than usual, her body soft and supple as she melts into the comfort of your touch.

She lets out a shaky breath, burying her face into your shirt. You can hear the rapid beating of her heartbeat in her chest, can feel the nervous tremors running through her slender frame. "I'm glad you do."

She nods, burying her face into your chest again. "I don’t understand how you’re so perfect," she mumbles against your skin.

"It doesn't make...sense..."

Thoma

As you lean against his chest, Thoma's arms wrap around you in a gentle embrace. He is warm, comfortable. He buries his face into your hair, breathing in the scent of you as if he is drinking you in.

"I could stay like this forever," he murmurs in your ear. His hair brushes your cheek, and you can feel the steady beat of his heart. Cuddling in a meadow like this...is beautiful. His hand finds your own, and he runs his fingers over your skin. His touch is light, like a whisper, but there is something reverent in the way he holds you. He holds you as if you are fragile. Breakable. Precious. As if simply being allowed to touch you is a privilege.

"Me too." He runs his fingers over your wrist, tracing invisible patterns across your skin with his fingertips. His other hand comes up to thread through your hair. A quiet chuckle escapes Thoma's lips as he hears your words. He tightens his hold on you just a little, as if to reassure himself that you are still here, still in his arms. Still his.

"You know," he murmurs, shifting so that his chin is on your shoulder, "sometimes I worry that you know me too well."

Tighnari

Tighnari, sits with his back pressed against a tree. You are in his lap, sitting between his legs. One of his hands drifts idly through the hair at the nape of your neck, fingers gently scratching against your scalp.

He can hear your breathing. Feel the rise and fall of your chest. Your warmth against his, the faint scent of your hair.

His head tilts against yours, resting his chin against your shoulder and closing his eyes.

"Oh look! Fireflies!." His eyes flutter open again as you speak, the soft utterance bringing a small smile to his face. He cranes his neck to look at the fireflies dancing amongst the trees. "They're pretty." Tighnari murmurs, his lips nearly brushing against your ear as he speaks. His fingers play idly with the hair at the nape of your neck, the callouses on his hands catching gently against your skin. The fireflies cast a soft, glowing light over the two of you. It makes your skin glow.

Tighnari's chest tightens.

"You're pretty." He says, the words a quiet murmur against your hair.

Venti

Venti is sitting with you on a sturdy tree branch, comfortably resting on your lap. The Anemo Archon leans against you, nuzzling his face against the crook of your neck, basking in the warmth of your body. The two of you are high up in the air, surrounded by a sea of swaying trees and stars.

The wind god is silent for a moment, before speaking again. "I didn't think you would summon me this late in the night." Venti remarks casually, as if he’s not currently cuddled up on your lap."Summon? I asked and you agreed-!" "I know," Venti responds with a laugh, nuzzling his face further against your neck. "I'm just saying. You almost always call me earlier in the day."

Venti takes a moment to enjoy the close contact, humming softly in contentment. "I am a little curious - why did you request for me to come here? I'd think you'd be asleep by now."

"You don't like it?" "No, I do. I like it very much," Venti replies quickly, lifting his head away from your neck to look at you properly.

He is silent for a moment, his eyes dancing in the night, illuminated only by the faint shine of the stars. Then, Venti smiles; a gentle, lopsided smile, almost sheepish. "I was just wondering," he reassures.

"That's all."

Wriothesley

"You sure everyone's asleep?" You ask worried after hearing another sound from outside his office. "Absolutely," he murmurs in reply, his chin resting against your shoulder. There's an easy, quiet confidence in his words, and not a hint of concern.

His hands rest on your hips, thumbs absently rubbing circles against your skin where just below your shirt, his arms keeping you pinned to him, chest against your back. "We're safe," he breathes against your neck. He shifts a little in his chair and tugs you closer against him, hands moving from your hips to wrap around your waist. He buries his face against the expanse of bare skin, kissing your skin absentmindedly.

"Besides, you and I both know I can make you keep quiet, don't we, darling?"

You playfully swat his arm, "No respect for a god-!" He laughs, the sound deep and rich, like smoke curling through a forest. His lips find the junction between your shoulder and your neck, peppering the skin there with kisses before nipping at it.

His hands slide under the edge of your shirt, calloused fingers tracing up the smooth skin of your stomach.

"A god who's sitting in my lap, letting me touch and kiss and taste her like this?" He murmurs, licking a stripe along the curve of your shoulder.

"I'm showing you plenty of respect."

Xiangling - aged up

She is sitting on your lap, blushing as she hears her name fall from your lips.

She's never been used to this sort of attention before, and the feeling of you holding her makes her heart flutter in her chest. She can feel the warmth of your body through her clothes, and her mind can't help but wonder what it would be like to be even closer to you.

As you take a bite of her food, she watches your reaction expectantly, praying you will say you like it.

"Xiangling?! That's amazing-!" Xianglings heart swells with pride. To receive your praise, and to see your satisfaction at something she has created just for you...it's more than she ever thought she'd be granted.

"Really?" she stutters, eyes wide as she turns to look up at you, "you really like it?" "Mhm!" Your response makes Xianglings heart feel as if it might stop right there. A smile threatens to burst from her lips, one that threatens to stretch across her whole face and light her up like a star. You have made her happier than she's been in a long time, and Xiangling can't help but adore you for it.

"I'm so glad," she says, her voice full of joy. You love her cooking. You really do, and that makes her feel like the luckiest person on Teyvat.

"Whats this by the way? It's really good-!"

"Hilichurl."

"WHAT?!"

Xiao

He stiffens, his body going rigid at the sensation of being cuddled, being held closely in that way. It seems that this is a whole new experience for him.

"What—" He stops himself and inhales deeply, his body quivering against yours as he tries to process the feel of it all. The warmth, the nearness. The comfort.

Xiao swallows heavily a few times. His voice is quiet when he speaks again. "I've never…"

"Shh, relax." It's hard for him to relax, at first.

Xiao has never been held, never been loved like this. Every muscle in his body is rigid, quivering with a strange, foreign feeling.

But he forces himself to try. Slowly, he relaxes, letting the tension flow from his body into the night, until he's all but melting in your arms. "This is new," he mutters. "But I like it."

"Told you." He laughs quietly at your words and presses himself a little closer against you, burying his face into your neck, against your bare skin. He murmurs something against your skin, voice soft. "How is it that you always end up being right?"

"Heh-" "Shut up."

Xianyun

Xianyun's breath stutters as you lay against her chest. She is still for a moment— and then, like a dam breaking, she wraps her arms around you and pulls you close. Her arms are firm and strong, yet all she wants to do is hold you. She breathes out a soft, shaky sigh against your hair.

“You are mine,” she whispers. Xianyun's chest rises and falls as she holds you, her arms wrapped around you like a coil. Her heart pounds against your ear, her fingers curling into the fabric of your clothes. It is as though she is afraid you might slip away, as though there is nothing she would not do if it meant staying near you.

"Please," she pleads, her voice soft and desperate. She wants to say more, but the words stick to her tongue. What comes out instead is nothing but a whisper, a fervent prayer in the shape of a single word.

"Stay."

Xinyan

She lets out a content sound, her head in your lap. She feels safe here. Protected. Loved. She closes her eyes and allows herself to listen to you talk. The sound of your voice is sweet, comforting, lulling her worries into obscurity. For now, all is well.

"What happened?" *she asks, when you take a pause in talking. She opens her eyes and gazes up at you, curious what had happened to make your day notable.

"Nothing, just keep relaxing." You say with a smile. She hums her agreement. She buries her face in your stomach, wrapping her arms around you. Her fingers gently run up and down your back, her touch as light as a moth’s wing.

"‘m relaxin’," she mumbles, her voice muffled. Xinyan feels sleep tugging at the corners of her consciousness. The rhythm of your breath, your warmth beneath her skin, and the sweet scent you carry are all threatening to drag her into oblivion. One last thing weighs on her mind, her thoughts fuzzy and tired.

"Tell me somethin' before I fall asleep," she requests, half-whining as she speaks.

"I love you..."

"....me...too....w-wai...t...?"

Xingqiu - aged up

Xingqiu reads the words from the page aloud, his voice low and soothing. He murmurs your name softly, his lips caressing the syllables with a tender reverence.

He is comfortable in your embrace. His body sits flush against yours, a warm and constant presence. He pauses the story every now and then, placing a soft kiss against your shoulder before continuing.

He reads to you until the moon is high in the sky, and you have long drifted off to sleep, still cuddling him. Xingqiu sets the book aside, smiling fondly at the sight of you sleeping, peaceful as they come. He takes a moment to trace his eyes over your features, his gaze tender and warm.

He pulls the blankets up around your shoulders, and then he shifts to lay down beside you, wrapping one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He rests his head on your shoulder, nuzzling against your warmth. Xingqiu pulls you close, his nose buried against the crook of your neck. He inhales slowly, breathing in your scent.

His fingers trace mindless patterns over your hip, the movement as steady and soothing as a heartbeat. He shifts his leg so that it is tangled with yours, trying to get as close to you as he can.

He whispers your name, the sound like a secret meant for your ears only.

The world melts into a comfortable silence, with Xingqiu and you, holding each other in the dark.

Yae Miko

"Stop it-!" "I don't think I will," Miko teases, her voice light as she watches you thrash around in her embrace. She presses her fingers into the underside of your ribcage once more, just to feel you squirm. "Besides," she continues in a softer tone, "You look rather adorable like this."

Her hand moves to your tummy, gently tracing the ticklish skin there, watching as your eyes clamp shut and your laughter rings.

Seeing you like this, writhing and helpless, is all Miko has ever wanted. She has her arm pinned around your torso, trapping you against her, her slender fingers dancing down your side as she mercilessly continues to tease you.

Her lips brush against your ear. "Be a good girl and hold still for me, hm?"

"That's it," she praises in a low murmur, her voice like a hum against your ear. "Stay right there. Just like that."

Miko's hand still wanders across your skin, the tip of her forefinger tracing circles that make your toes curl and the sound of laughter slip past your lips despite your efforts to stay still.

"Fuck you-!"

"You will, later."

Yanfei

"And what is NOT against the law?" As you ask your question, Yanfei rests her head in your arms, relaxing in your presence. She blinks and tilts her head like a puppy, considering your question for a few moments.

"Hmm," she hums, her gaze drifting somewhere off in the distance before she looks back at you. She smiles. "Everything is legal when done in the name of love," she says, her voice lilting in a way that indicates she's joking. Your words make her think. Her eyes flutter as her thoughts race, and a moment later, Yanfei lets out a soft huff, snuggling even closer.

"Being happy," she adds in a quiet murmur, her words a little mumbled against your skin. "Being alive. Being free."

Her chin lifts as she shifts, turning to look at you once more.

"As far as I know, everything else is against the law," a soft huff follows her words, and she presses a kiss against the side of your neck. Another moment of silence falls before Yanfei opens her mouth, a gentle exhale against your skin as she continues.

"Did you know,” she adds, her words hushed and soft like the night breeze, "that being beautiful is also not against the law?"

She pauses, shifting a little, her body moving even closer. The room is quiet, nothing breaking the silence.

“Because if it were,” she whispers, and she lifts a hand to gently cup your cheek, “You’d be in deep trouble.”

Yaoyao - platonic

Yaoyao buries her head into you, seeking the comfort your presence brings. Her arms wrap around your torso, pulling herself closer to you. She presses her face into your shoulder, closing her eyes as she breaths in your scent.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely louder than a breath. For a moment, she feels safe. Like you'll guard her from all harm.

"It's cold without you."

"After all I told you, if you fell lonely on your little adventures, come to me." A shudder runs through her body as Yaoyao clings to you even more, her fingers digging into the fabric of your clothing, as if she's loath to let go.

"Can I stay?" she asks, the words tumbling from her lips like water from a river bank. Despite the pleading in her voice, her head is still buried in your shoulder.

"Please, I want to stay with you. I always wanted to live here for a while-!"

Yelan

Yelan's breath hitches when you pull her closer, her head against your chest as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "This is all I need," she mumbles, the words falling from her lips before she can stop them. "Just this, forever. I don't need anything else." She lets out a soft sigh, her eyes closing as she nuzzles into you, resting her head against your shoulder. Even in your embrace, you can feel her body relax as if the simple touch took some great tension out of her.

"A gooood nap...Mm... Sounds like heaven," she mumbles sleepily against your skin, not bothering to hide her smile. Yelan drapes an arm across your torso, pulling herself even closer to you. She practically melts against your body, nuzzling into the crook of your neck like a cat seeking warmth. A soft, contented hum rumbles in her chest, her breathing steady and slow as she buries her face against you.

"With you."

Yoimiya

She melts under your touch, leaning against your body and letting out a soft and contented sigh. Her eyes flutter closed as she soaks in your presence, a gentle smile playing across her lips. Every touch of your hands sends a shiver of pleasure through her, her skin burning wherever you make contact. She nuzzles against your side, relishing the feeling of your body pressed against hers.

"I could stay here like this forever," she whispers. "Just you and me.. in this perfect moment...watching fireworks." The colorful explosions of light in the sky are beautiful, but to Yoimiya, even their beauty is dull compared to you. Her eyes remain fixed on you, watching the way the bursts of rainbow light reflect off your skin, dancing across your eyes like living flames.

She reaches for your hand, intertwining your fingers with hers. She draws your palm to her lips, pressing a reverent and tender kiss to your skin.

"You are more beautiful than any fireworks," she whispers.

Yun Jin

"It was beautiful, breathtaking. You almost brought me to tears." She nuzzles closer to you at the praise, her heart fluttering like a bird's wing beating against a ribcage. She tucks her head against your chest with a sigh, her heart still beating much too fast from the high of preforming. Adrenaline still courses through her veins, making her head spin and her hands tremble when they grip onto you to steady her.

"I'm glad you think so," she says, her voice a little sheepish. "I just... worry about my preforming sometimes. I think I'm not good enough." Yun Jin buries her head against your chest, refusing to look you in the eyes as she spills her innermost fears and anxieties. She keeps her arms around you, scared she'll lose you if she lets go even an inch.

"I don't think my voice is good or the way I dance is captivating. I just..." then she laughs.

"No it's stupid. We all worry, mostly over nothing. I'm good...I'm very good...and you always tell me so it must be true."

Zhongli

Zhongli is still as a statue at your side; his body tense and stiff. But as you begin to pull him closer, he begins to melt in your arms.

Tentatively, he allows his head to rest against your shoulder, his breaths coming out in a shudder. He's still hesitant, but he lets you pull him closer. He wants to touch you back; to embrace you as you embrace him. But would he be crossing some invisible line he cannot see? He doesn't want to offend you.

"Let loose and relax." You reassure. Zhongli's mind is racing with thoughts— what if he does the wrong thing? What if he displeases you?

But his body seems to act of its own accord, as though some invisible weight was lifted from his shoulders as soon as you spoke.

He slowly leans against you, his body relaxing. He burrows closer to you, wrapping his arms weakly around your waist.

"I've never felt more awkward." You laugh.

"Agreed...I apolog-" "shush-! I love this."

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

keeping LOGAN HOWLETT company when you notice him having a bad day

implied fem!reader. grumpy x sunshine. fluff

idk when this is set, bc xmen timelines confuse the fuck out of me. and yeah sorry, another fic for him. I can’t stop with ideas, im like a freight train

It wasn’t always easy to deal with Logan when he was this way – his grumpy, closed-off self retreating into his once far more reserved ways. Sometimes after a bad day he’d shut himself off, only finding the comfort at the bottom of an empty whiskey bottle. 

He has to remember he has you now. He’s no longer alone.

He’s out on the porch, sitting on the steps, elbows on his knees with a crystal tumbler clasped in hand. It was starting to rain, the clouds spitting as if to add insult to injury – the weather mirroring his feelings. 

You wanted to give him time – give a moment for him to come to you. But as you see the rain fall harder, his exposed self sitting under a heavy patch of downpour, you grab your umbrella from its nook by the front door. 

You open the door slowly, trying not to startle him with the abrupt noise. 

“Hi,” you say, voice soft. “Can I keep you company?” you ask, hesitant footing keeping you in place.

He nods, moving the bottle from his side to between his booted feet – making space for you. He keeps his eyes ahead, looking out into the forest.

You sit beside him, holding the umbrella higher up to shield you both, scooting in closer when you notice parts of him left out under the covering. 

“Do uh—” you stall, turning to look at the side of him. “Do you want to talk about it?” you question, speaking carefully as not push him away further. 

“Nothing much to say,” he murmurs, words quiet and distracted as he swirls the amber liquid in the glass – eyes focused as he watches its motion.

You pause and fiddle with the handle of the brolly, uncertain of what to say. It wasn’t that you were uncomfortable, but instead, it was the opposite. You were so comfortable that you didn’t want your keenness to act as a repellent. So you wait, trying to find the words he wants to hear. Not what you think he wants to hear. 

And then you realise, the reason it was so hard to find words, is because no words should even be said at all. Words often hold no meaning, but actions, they do. He doesn't want verbal comfort, but instead something physical, something silent and earnest. 

So you rest your head on his shoulder, leaning into him as if to voicelessly show your care – the act sweet and gentle. He raises his glass to take a sip only to pause, pulling it away as if he was questioning its use. His eyes focused on the small amount at the bottom like he was debating with himself.

But he decides against it, placing the tumbler aside – his now free hand finding itself reaching over your shoulders to pull you into him. He takes the umbrella from your hand, holding it as he shields you both from the rain – replacing your job as he thought it to be his.

And like him, your hand now empty, you find yourself reaching behind him – wrapping an arm around his back as if to further the comfort. You nuzzle your head into his burly shoulder, nestling against him as you both look out into the vast expanse of greyscale brown and green. 

“I’m here when you’re ready.”

[bestial4ngel]

My god, the duel from great comet seriously has no right to be so good

[luna-azzurra]

Eye Color to Define Your OC

Blue Eyes 💙 Blue eyes often evoke a sense of calmness and tranquility, like the peaceful surface of a still lake. Characters with blue eyes might be seen as trustworthy, reflecting an inner serenity that makes others feel at ease around them. There’s something introspective about blue eyes, suggesting that these characters are thoughtful and reflective, often contemplating the deeper meanings in life. They might be dreamers, or people who carry a quiet strength, drawing others in with their gentle and soothing gaze.

Green Eyes 💚 Green eyes are often linked to mystery and a touch of mischief. There’s an intriguing quality to them, almost like they hold secrets or are constantly plotting something fun and unexpected. Characters with green eyes can be seen as creative and curious, always looking for new adventures or ways to express themselves. There’s a vitality in green eyes, a sense of life and vibrancy that suggests a character who is full of energy and imagination. They might be the ones who are always up to something, keeping others guessing with their enigmatic gaze.

Brown Eyes 🤎 Brown eyes are often perceived as warm and reliable, embodying a sense of earthiness and approachability. Characters with brown eyes can be the dependable ones, the friends who are always there when you need them, providing a stable and comforting presence. There’s a grounded quality to brown eyes, making these characters seem down-to-earth and relatable. They often exude warmth and kindness, making others feel welcome and understood. With their steady gaze, brown-eyed characters might be seen as the anchors in their communities, the ones who keep everything together with their unwavering support.

Hazel Eyes 🟤🟢 Hazel eyes are a captivating blend of brown, green, and sometimes gold, reflecting a sense of adaptability and versatility. Characters with hazel eyes might be seen as complex and multifaceted, with personalities that can shift and change depending on the situation. They are often intriguing and dynamic, drawing people in with their ever-changing aura. There’s depth in hazel eyes, suggesting a character who is always evolving, never quite fitting into one category. These characters might surprise you with their hidden talents or unexpected insights, making them endlessly fascinating.

Gray Eyes ⚪ Gray eyes often carry an air of wisdom and intelligence, like a stormy sky full of untold stories. Characters with gray eyes can be perceived as thoughtful and calm, often observing more than they speak. There’s a mysterious quality to gray eyes, suggesting depth and a quiet intensity. These characters might be the thinkers and philosophers, the ones who are always pondering the mysteries of life and seeing things from different perspectives. Their gaze can be penetrating, making others feel like they’re looking right into their soul, uncovering secrets that no one else can see.

Amber Eyes 🟠 Amber eyes radiate warmth and intensity, often associated with strength and passion. Characters with amber eyes might have a fiery spirit, with a magnetic presence that draws others toward them. There’s something fierce and determined about amber eyes, suggesting a character who is not afraid to go after what they want. They might be bold and courageous, standing out from the crowd with their distinctive gaze. These characters could be leaders or warriors, driven by their convictions and unafraid to face challenges head-on.

Violet Eyes 💜 Violet eyes are rare and ethereal, creating a sense of otherworldliness and mystique. Characters with violet eyes might be seen as enchanting or magical, with a spiritual quality that sets them apart. There’s a softness to violet eyes, almost like they belong to someone who exists between worlds. These characters might be the dreamers or the visionaries, with a connection to the mystical or the unknown. Their gaze can be captivating and otherworldly, leaving others wondering about the secrets they hold and the magic they might possess.

Black Eyes ⚫ Black eyes are intense and powerful, often conveying a sense of mystery and depth. Characters with black eyes can have a gaze that is both captivating and intimidating, making others feel like they are being drawn into a deep, dark abyss. There’s an allure to black eyes, a sense of danger or intrigue that keeps people guessing. These characters might be seen as mysterious or enigmatic, with an intensity that makes them unforgettable. They could be the ones who hold their cards close to their chest, revealing little but knowing much, their black eyes a window into a soul that is both deep and complex.

[lovebugism]

thigh riding Carmy because he isn't paying attention to you please please please 😭

summary: carmy misses date night and finds a way to work and make you feel good at the same time (2.2k)

pairing: carmy berzatto / f!reader

contents: established relationship, thigh riding, public setting (ish), dirty talk, smut with sprinkles of fluff 18+

Carmy’s office is a windowless concrete cage of chaos. There are a million papers stacked and scattered across his desk, half-hidden beneath books that are flipped open to random pages. You’re not sure how he’s keeping up with any of it. Though, to be fair, you’ve never been able to completely understand his mind.

You know him better than anyone else, but he’s still such a mystery to you sometimes — like a language you can read perfectly but can’t speak all the way. 

You don’t know why he runs himself aground with work even though it kills him, even though he swears the enormity of his desire brings him back to life again. You just know to try and save the drowning man from himself from time to time, and not to let him strangle you with his panic in the process.

“Bear?” you call gently into the amber-lit office, knuckles rapping against the opened door. “You ready?”

Sitting slouched over his desk, you can hear the faint tap tap tapping of his pen against the paper, an anxious tick for his ever-fidgeting fingers. “No. Not— Not yet, baby. I’m fuckin’— I’m drowning in this paperwork right now.”

He lifts his heavy head from his tattooed hand and glances at you over his shoulder. The sight of you makes his breath catch — leaning against the doorframe, all pretty in the lamplight, wearing the dress he bought you.

The deep emerald silk drips over your body like summer rain. It dips low at your chest and flows just above your knees, fitting you like a total dream.

Carmy, for a flicker of a moment, forgets to be anxious. 

While his eyes dart over your form, the rest of the world disappears — it could be entirely falling apart for all he knows, but all he can see now is you. Your stormy eyes, your soft skin, and your quiet sensuality. Your ruby lips, your cheeks like wine, and your gentle voice. 

His mouth falls agape to say words he can’t make out. His ocean eyes go wide, glimmering a deeper blue in the low light — which casts dark shadows over the sharp edges of his face. His gaze is like the sea. You feel yourself drowning in it accordingly.

“It can’t wait?” you press gently, lifting yourself from the doorframe and sauntering slowly towards him. Closing the door behind you, you drop your chin to your chest and flash the boy a sheepish smile. “All the restaurants are gonna close soon.” 

Carmy huffs. He knew better than to plan a date. He’s far too busy — or, rather, he doesn’t allow himself to be anything other than busy because there’s a voice inside him that just won’t be still. Working himself to death was an art he did exceptionally well, which hadn’t bothered him so much until he met you.

“I gotta get this done, babe,” he answers sympathetically, tilting his chin to keep his eyes locked with yours as you near him.

Your familiar scent sets the stagnant air aglow. The warmth of your perfume cradles his senses when you loom beside him. Your hand rises to his shoulder, fingers fidgeting with the swathe of curls at the nape of his neck. His wide palm smooths over your hip — softly calloused against the satiny fabric. 

You smile softly down at him. “So I got all pretty for nothin’?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

“Well, you got all pretty for me, actually,” Carmy corrects.

His pink lips curl in a faint smirk. Your grin widens tenfold. The subtle act of possessiveness, coupled with the strong hand on your waist, makes your chest sparkle. 

“Yeah, I did,” you hum proudly, bending at the waist to press a chaste kiss to his mouth. He tastes fleetingly of nicotine and sweet plum wine — a maddening concoction.

You rise to full height again. Carmy pats your hip twice before his fingers fall away. He turns back to his desk, and you feel half-invisible again. It’s hardly his fault, though. There was something deeply intense about his stone-blue eyes. You feel strangely held when he looks at you, left inevitably mourning every time he turns away.

His pen darts across the gridded page in chicken scratch you can’t make out, worsened by his wrist smudging the ink. Your arms wrap loosely around his neck. You bury your nose in his chestnut curls and inhale the familiar scent of grill smoke and cedarwood. 

“You know I don’t care actually about going out, right?” you mumble there.

Carmy hums, half-distracted. “Mhm.”

“Just wanna spend time with you… Don’t care what we’re doing…”

You press a kiss to his temple. He leans instinctively into your touch. “Well, I’ll make you the best damn PB&J Chicago’s ever seen when we get back home, alright?” he muses with a quiet smile. “How’s that sound?”

“I’m holding you to that, Bear,” you say, grinning into his curls.

“I’m countin’ on it.” Carmy chuckles and lifts his free hand to squeeze your wrist. His touch slips away soon after when he turns back to his work. 

Quiet returns, heavy and deafening, filled only by the distant clanging of pots from stragglers in the kitchen. It makes you strikingly aware of yourself — of the space you’re filling in this tiny office, and the distracting weight of your arms around his neck. Feeling more like a burden, you clear your throat and pull away.

“I’m, uh— I’m gonna see if Richie left yet. Maybe he’ll let me bum a smoke or something.”

Carmy mourns your warmth the second you’re gone. He spins in his swivel chair to face you, laughing to cover up his ache. “What happened to us spending time together?”

He knows how you think. You think he gets so involved in his work that he doesn’t spare you a single thought. But really, he’s so strongly devoted to you that it feels like the emotion could rip him open from the inside.

You squint. “Watching you sign a bunch of paperwork while you pretend I’m not here is not spending time together,” you argue, laughing despite yourself.

“Don’t go. C’mon,” Carmy pleads, very distantly begging. He tilts his head and blinks at you with wide, pleading eyes. “Come sit,” he tells you.

“Sit where?” you scoff.

“In my lap.”

“I’ll squish you,” you insist, giggling.

“Shut up and sit down,” he commands, still playful but leaving little room for argument. His wide palms smooth slowly up and down his denim-clad thighs. Your heart lurches into your throat.

You walk the short distance to him with a huff of feigned annoyance, dress swishing around your knees. Carmy pushes away from his desk to give you space to sit. You take a seat on his lap, just like he asked you to, but he stops you with a pair of strong hands grasping your hips.

“Not like that,” he murmurs.

Your brows furrow in response. “What do you mean?”

“On my thigh,” Carmy corrects, swatting playfully at your clothed hip. “C’mon. Sit right.”

You rise slowly, with a hesitant squint in your eyes. “What are you playing at, Bear?” you wonder lowly, legs spread slightly to welcome his thigh between them.

Carmy bounces his shoulder in a lazy shrug. His tattooed hands creep up the hem of your dress to urge you down onto his lap — the proper way. “You’re the one always sayin’ I’m too busy for you, right?” he responds, hardly expecting a real answer, as he helps you straddle one of his thighs.

The angle is awkward. The old chair leaves little room for the both of you. You’re forced to keep one leg on the ground while the other bends at the knee between his legs. You hold tight to his shoulders, trusting him to keep you steady. Your dress bunches at your hips in the meanwhile. Carmy raises his thigh until it’s flush against your clothed cunt. 

Your breath catches, and he smirks.

“So… You’re gonna cum on my thigh,” he continues casually. “…And after that, we’ll go home, I’ll fuck you like you need, and then I’ll run you a bath… How’s that sound?”

Your stomach swirls with a familiar warmth — which you can feel pooling in your panties now. “What about the PB&J?” you joke in a quiet voice that trembles only slightly.

Carmy scoffs a faint laugh. “After the bath.”

“What about in the bath?”

“Whatever you want,” he assures with a smile. “You just gotta ride me first.”

The lighthearted air turns bone-crushingly sensual in a flicker of a moment. His light eyes pierce you mercilessly, peering into the depths of your soul. You melt for him, going uncharacteristically soft and subservient, just how he likes.

Carmy helps you with a few passes over his thigh. You’re obviously unsure, and he can tell by your hesitant movements. His free hand squeezes your hip, urging you up his leg and down again, until you find your own rhythm. Then he turns back to his work and tries to focus. The soft sound of your breathy moans entwines with the scribbling of his pen.

You rock your hips in measured thrusts, trying to find the proper pace. The delicate fabric of your panties ruts along the rough denim of his jeans — catching your clit perfectly when you buck your hips just right. Lightning strikes down your spine, then. Both alleviating the ache between your thighs and creating a new one all at once. 

Your breath hitches. Pitiful whimpers sound in your throat instead. You bury them all in Carmy’s neck as you hide your face in his shoulder, with your warm cheek pressed to his ear and your fingers balling his shirt in your fists.

There was something foreignly erotic about all this. Being in Carmy’s office, the door unlocked, with Syd and Richie meandering elsewhere in the kitchen. The fear of being caught made your movements quick. Careless. Wild. 

And there was something about Carmy, too. The way he’s got you getting yourself off, with little help from the boy himself, while he busies himself with paperwork. You can hear him scribbling away still, flitting through papers with the hand not holding you. All while you hump his thigh, so desperate for attention. It’s pathetic. And something about it made you feel good.

Your pretty whimpers turn into deeper, breathier moans. Carmy smiles to himself. He can feel the warmth of your cunt despite the layers between you. It makes him wonder if you’ve left a stain on the denim. He prays you’ve left a stain on the denim — wants the mark of your honey stamped there forever.

“You close?” he murmurs when he notices your legs starting to tremble.

You bury a whine in his neck. “Fuck, Bear—”

“Hey,” he hums, pulling away from his paperwork for the first time in several minutes to look at you. 

His long fingers rise from your hip and curl into your hair. He tugs softly at the strands to urge your head back so he can admire his work. Your eyes are lidded and glassy, your lips swollen and parted — already fucked-out, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“I asked if you were close,” he repeats, unsmiling.

“Yes,” you manage through a whimper.

His grip on your hair slackens. His touch returns to your hip, encouraging your rapid movements. His pink lips quirk in the faintest hint of a smile. “Good,” he praises. “Good girl. Keep going.”

You bury your face in his neck again, lips curling around your teeth to stifle the moans swelling there. Your hips lose their rhythm as the threat of your orgasm grows. Your clit pounds like a second heartbeat. You briefly wonder if Carmy can feel it, and the thought alone sends you reeling.

“Carmy,” you keen, voice wavering. “I’m gonna cum.”

You feel him nod against you. He licks his lips and turns his head. His nose squishes your temple; his wet mouth brushes your ear. 

“Do it, then. C’mon,” he mumbles against you, coaxing you closer towards your pleasure — not because he’s a pro at the whole dirty-talking thing, but because he knows how much you like it. “Be a good girl and cum on my thigh. Come on.”

You last two more passes up and down his lap before you tense on top of him. Your hips still as you whimper into his shoulder, shuddering hard when your orgasm washes over you.

“Atta girl,” Carmy praises. “Keep cumming for me.”

He drops his pen and finally turns away from his work. He grips your hips with both hands and works you the rest of the way through your orgasm. You let him, for a few agonizing moments, until your high fades and leaves you achingly sensitive.

You inhale sharply through your nose and reach suddenly for his wrists. “No more,” you plead, then exhale a breathy chuckle.

When you part from his neck, Carmy ducks his head to catch your averted gaze. His wide eyes dart over your pleasure-stricken features. “You good?” he wonders. His words have lost any hint of sensuality. He’s always serious about checking in on you.

You nod and swallow hard. “’M good,” you promise, then freeze when your knee nudges his half-hard cock. “Are you good?” you parrot.

Carmy scoffs a breathy chuckle. “I’m almost done here— go bum a smoke from Richie, alright? I’ll out in a second.” 

He kisses you softly. A chaste kiss that’s perhaps too innocuous for such a honeyed moment. You rise on tired legs, and he swats playfully at your side. “How’s that for spending time together, huh?” he calls over his shoulder as you wrench open the office door.

“You’re an idiot, Bear.”

[clairelutra]

"but depp's team edited the audio so it would sound like amber was saying the exact opposite of what she was actually saying!!" they didn't edit her live testimony tho....

[nohoney]

us series! reader has gotten a little lazy at riding, so keigo and touya decide to fix that (*/ω＼)

“You’re spoiling her, you know?” Touya points out one day as he and Keigo grocery shop together, “She’s getting all princess-y ‘cause of you.”

Amber eyes gloss over the selection of bread in the aisle, looking for a particular brioche that he’s been craving for the last week. The bread is found and placed into the cart, Keigo walking ahead for the next thing on the list they need to get. “I don’t know what you mean. I think we’ve been waiting hand and foot for her this entire time.”

It’s not really unusual for you to be used to the princess treatment, not really needing to get up if you need or want something for yourself.

“That’s not what I meant.” Touya sighs as he pushes the cart and lets the blond decide what’s needed for their purchases. “She’s not riding dick like she used to. It’s because when she’s on top of you, you’re doing all the work from the bottom. I’ve noticed it the last three times.”

“Okay, and? What does how we fuck have to do with how you fuck?” Keigo glances back at Touya briefly as he continues to walk towards the next aisle, “If she’s getting lazy with you, you know what to do with her.”

Opting to fuck around, the cart gets pushed into Keigo’s backside and the metal is noisy from the impact.

“You need to do it, you’re the one making her lazy when she’s on top.”

“It should occur to you that I fuck her the way I do is because I enjoy it. I like putting in the work.” Keigo points out, dropping the subject and flipping off Touya for being a menace with the cart. He really doesn't think anything of what was brought up and continues on normally.

But the point comes up in his mind the next time Keigo has sex with you. How he ended up just fucking you from the bottom, keeping your body pressed down to him and thrusting up into your pussy that he just can’t get enough of. And there’s no fight from you to try to take control of riding him. You used to sometimes at least attempt to be the one to take reigns and he’d entertain it before fucking you the way he wants.

He cums in you, your body relaxing against his and it’s like you melted. Keigo moves you like a rag doll, rolling you over to lie back on the bed so that he can fetch a towel and clean himself up. “So good Keigo… so good…” you mutter, leaning back into the pillows and reaching for your phone to start scrolling on your social media.

Not even a thank you for the dicking down you just got—Touya was right.

You are getting spoiled.

Keigo is a bit more gracious when he’s proven to be in the wrong. He goes to Touya says the magic words, “You were right, she doesn’t put in the work anymore.”

Blue eyes are full of mirth when Keigo comes with the admission, already knowing exactly what they’re going to do so that you learn a little lesson. Not that he doesn’t like spoiling you but even you are expected to put in a little bit of effort here and there. And if you’re not gonna do it willingly—

They’re just gonna make you.

“Get on Kei’s dick baby, wanna see you with him.” Touya mutters against your lips, letting you taste your own pussy after he had eaten you out. You’re eager for more kisses from him, almost too lost in the affection before he spanks your ass and directs to the blond laying back on the bed.

Crawling over to Keigo, you hold his cock as you slowly slip it in you. You let out a small gasp, the stretch of him entering you is always pleasant and when he’s fully sheathed inside, you get a dreamy smile on your face. You start to lean down to him, having gotten used to Keigo hugging you back when you move in that motion and you expect him to put in the work of fucking you that he’s been doing the last few times.

So you’re surprised when you’re pushed back by Keigo and surprised again when Touya grabs a fistful of your hair and cranes your neck back. You whimper, being unable to speak a word from the position your first boyfriend has got you in. Only little sounds are the best you can muster as you wonder what’s in store for you.

“Ride him, you’re putting in the work today.” Touya tells you, releasing your hair and spanks your ass hard that makes you yelp. It wasn’t a playful smack either—it was meant to hurt you a little.

Keigo is usually nice when Touya is mean. A comforting hand smooths over the area you were struck, his touch is soft and his gaze is soft too when you look down at him. His hand lifts and strikes you in the same spot Touya did with just as much strength.

“Agh! Hurts!” You whimper and you look down expecting to get a bit of mercy from the blond, but he’s shaking his head and tutting at you.

“You heard him baby, ride me. You can do it, yeah?” Keigo’s voice is sweet, gentle, but the hand smoothing over the spot you were hit has you a little tense. “Yeah baby bird?”

They’re being mean to you together.

You hadn’t even realized how lazy you had been lately when it comes to being on top. Keigo was having fun being the one to do it all for you whenever he had you like this so you had gotten used to it. So you think that acting a little pitiful will earn you some kindness, maybe even make the boys feel bad.

Touya doesn’t have it with you, making you assume the position as he tells you firmly, “Ride him.”

With your hands placed on either side of Keigo’s head, you clench your hands and groan unhappily. You know better than to argue back though. So you move your hips, fucking Keigo’s cock into you for the first time in a while. It feels good, it does feel good, but you don’t have the stamina that you used to.

“Tired, ‘m tired!” you whine, “Please Kei, please just do it for me?”

Touya wasted no time in spanking you again, harder than he did last time. Keigo delivers one too that’s just as mean.

“I said ride him, that was barely even five minutes.” Touya admonishes you, “C’mon brat.”

“I can’t!” you whine petulantly and pout back at Touya.

“You don’t ride him, I’m gonna lift you off his cock and you’re not gonna get fucked by either of us until you actually put in some effort.”

The threat actually makes you mildly panic, looking down at Keigo to see if they actually mean it. They wouldn’t do that, right? They’re not just gonna hold out on you all because of this, right? Right?

Keigo thrusts up once, reaching one hand up to cup your jaw in his hand. He holds you gently but firmly, his voice reflecting the tender way he touches you, “Ride me, you can do it.”

You hesitate, a noncommittal sound hummed out.

This time Keigo is the first to hit your ass and then he gestures to Touya. “Alright, take her off me. She doesn’t want to.”

You feel Touya’s hands go underneath your armpits as if you to lift you up, but you shake him off and hastily speak out, “No! No, I’ll ride Keigo! I’m sorry, I will!” So you assume the position again, moving your hips in the motion that you know how to do but no longer have the stamina for. And what’s worse is that they’re not praising you—they’re still bullying you!

“You’re such a brat, fucking ungrateful. Keigo does all the work for you all the time and that’s the best you can give him?” Touya sneers at you.

“It hasn’t even been that long and you’re that tired already? Everything I do for you and you can’t at least give me half the effort. Lazy little slut.” Keigo sighs in disappointment.

Tears prick at your eyes, sniffling a little but you know better than to stop. Even the grinding you’re doing is at least something but it’s just not enough. You want Keigo to hold you down and use you. You want him to do what he does best and just fuck you until you’re stupid.

“‘M sorry, ‘m sorry!” You whine. So you muster up what little energy you have and do your best to ride Keigo until he cums. It doesn’t matter if you do at this point. What’s important is focusing everything on him. He’s good to you, so so good to you and he deserves to sit back and relax while you show him that you’re willing to meet him halfway.

Your thighs burns as you bounce up and down on Keigo’s cock, your breath is shaky and you want to collapse. But you can’t stop until he’s happy, not until he decides that you’ve done a good enough job. No asking for help from Touya either—you know that this was his idea to do this to you.

“You want Keigo to cum in you, doll?” Touya turns your head to look at him, “Think you deserve it?”

You have to be careful with your words. If you eagerly agree, they could still bully you for being desperate and still only thinking of yourself.

“Whatever Keigo wants. I want to do what he wants.” you manage to speak out and hope it was the right thing to say.

Keigo seems to be satisfied with your words. “Then make me cum.”

It disappoints you a little that he won’t take over but you should know better because Touya is here as well. Maybe if it was just the two of you, Keigo wouldn’t have been as influenced to be as mean. But still you love them and a small part of you loves when they are mean. It can be frustrating when you’re ganged up on but you also know what kind of treatment you’ll get afterwards.

This will be worth it.

You ride Keigo as hard as you can, concentrating with all the effort you have left to focus on him. Touya’s at least kind enough to play with your clit, giving you a little something in return for saying and doing the right thing.

Keigo’s eyebrows start to knit together and you recognize the expression he makes, noticing how he grabs at your hips and his body starts to flex. His muscles and his chest, they get more defined as his body tenses underneath you. So with the last shreds of strength you have left, you fuck Keigo until his eyes start to roll back and he’s gasping for breath.

Then you remember how exhilarating it is to be on top and to watch him unfold beneath you. Even when you know he’s finished cumming inside you, now all of a sudden you just can’t stop. Keigo is the one babbling as you overstimulate him, nonsensical words that can barely be strung together to form a sentence.

“Good girl.”

Touya is the one to lift you off Keigo, immediately setting you onto the bed and pushing your legs open. You and Keigo are catching your breath together, whimpering when Touya shoves two fingers into your pussy. The pads of his fingers stroke inside you and your body writhes a little, but you know to not try to push Touya away.

He likes this.

He’s obsessed with you having Keigo’s cum in you.

“Good girl,” he repeats after he withdraws his fingers and licks them clean, “what do you say?”

“Thank you for teaching me a lesson.” You whisper and you’re relieved when you’re rewarded with a forehead kiss. This is the best part of your boys being mean to you—they’ll be so nice afterwards. They coddle and adore you, shoving their tongues into your mouth for sloppy kisses before doting on you.

Keigo holds you in his arms, muttering little praises along the crown of your hairline.

Touya massages your legs and thighs, his hands comforting and relaxing. But he doesn’t let you forget the lesson he put on you today, “Next time when either of us say that you need to put in some work, what do you?”

“I’ll listen,” you answer, “I won’t complain.”

“Good.”

[patricia-taxxon]

i don't know much about systems, but i know a lot about autism, and i think "syscourse" basically just an intra community disability support needs squabble but without the word "disability" to help contextualize it. Lemme try and help.

A lot of toxic disability discourse is just people with high support needs who are seeking *support* vs. a neglected majority of people with lower support needs who are mainly seeking validity and understanding. Both groups form a misguided resentment of each other. People who are profoundly disabled are more likely to get defensive and feel attacked when someone tries to spin silver linings from their disability, feel like their struggles are being erased by less effected people who outnumber them and speak over them. Meanwhile, lower support needs people are likely suffering in some manner that is invisible to them and everyone else, and they want nothing more than for that invisible problem to have a name.

I am, in spite of how I might look as a disembodied collection of smart sounding text posts, a high support needs autist. I have an unfair resentment of most autism positivity posts because I feel it doesn't represent my needs. I often feel alone in my own community due to a combination of being spoken over + your average everyday internalized ableism. I am, in my lowest moments, the autism equivalent of the anti-endo sysmed who writes long posts about how terrible and disabling DID is. I'm also, I guess, a low support needs system, so in some way I've seen this horrid discourse from both sides. The lesson I've taken is this: as a disability advocate, it is pointless for me to harangue and chew out those for whom my disability is a personality quirk in a desperate attempt to be seen. They too are neglected by the same things I am, and I must not be yet another voice telling them they don't deserve support. At the same time, those who are least affected by a disability are in the majority, and hold privilege over those most affected. Having a disability that is sometimes unrecognized by other disabled people is not a comparable oppression to the world simply not being built to accommodate you on any level whatsoever.

In conclusion, both of you are talking past each other, please apply theory of ableism to your discourse before its too late.

Sincerely, Avery & Amber.

[amber-eclipse-shifts]

man it feels so odd making this blog like a year and a half into my shifting journey LOL I should’ve just made it earlier

I started as an MCU girlie and now I’m focusing on it less now, but I still really want to go there haha

I have quantum mechanics-related powers because I’m such a nerd about that here lol

[yooniivrse]

early mornings | myg

summary. when time seems to bend every morning and love speaks through tender touches and quiet reassurances.

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pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, tooth-rotting fluff

word count: 1k

content: yoongi and oc wake up in each others arms / they love each other a bit too much and they make it pretty clear / they kiss a lot :3

warnings: fear of abandonment (kind of? if you squint??), allusions to sex

notes: idk why i'm procrastinating the third part of 'stumble into you' so bad, but this is a result of me still wanting to write something. also, ignore the images at the top if they don’t go well together, i’m too lazy to actually put in effort today 😭 likes, reblogs, comments, and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i love you guys and i hope you enjoy <33333

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main masterlist

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Amber rays spill across the room, seeping between the gaps in the curtains and kissing your bare skin with its golden warmth.

Yoongi stirs under the sheets, attempting to untangle his limbs from you, who lay beside him. But your arms only tighten around him, and he quickly gives in to the comforts of your touch.

With your head on his chest and his arm secure under your head, he can't help the lazy smile that draws across his lips.

He's always loved early mornings with you; when neither of you have to think about anything else but each other; when time feels like it ceases to exist; when nothing else mattered, because why would it when you had each other?

You were his home; his universe; his first thought in the morning and the most frequent visitor of his dreams. Everything reminded him of you, and it was maddening. But he welcomed the longing with open arms, because he was a fool.

Because he knew that it was worth being foolish if it meant having you.

Yoongi places a kiss on your forehead, his lips pressing against a few strands of hair that lay messily across your face. The scent of your skin, faintly sweet like the lavender soap you use, lingers in the air as Yoongi buries his nose in your hair, taking in the quiet of the morning, broken only by the soft hum of your breathing. He moves his hand to rest over yours, running the pad of his thumb over your knuckles.

He doesn't expect the gentle action to wake you, but your eyes flutter open. You hum, the sound quiet and laced with exhaustion as you stretch out your body.

Your eyes light up when you meet his gaze and the butterflies in his stomach erupt, fluttering around wildly.

"Morning," you whisper. You peck his lips with a soft kiss.

"Morning," Yoongi echoes. A faint blush paints his features, and a giggle tumbles from your mouth. Yoongi catches the sound with another kiss; then a third one that lingers for a few seconds longer than the others.

It is almost embarrassing to admit the effect you had on him. You've been together for years, and known each other for even more. He knows every dip and curve of your body and you have seen him through all of his highs and lows. Yet, a kiss from you still has him blushing.

"Missed me?" you tease, and he hums in agreement.

"A lot." He kisses corner of your lips and the curve of your jaw. "You're so pretty."

You laugh; a soft sound that rings through the air. It has always been Yoongi's favourite melody-the one sound that made his heart swell and his eyes crinkle into crescent moons to accommodate his growing smile.

He tucks a few strands of your hair behind your ear, letting his hand stay to cup your cheek so that he can bring his lips to yours again. He’s addicted to the way your lips fit perfectly with his, and no matter how often he kisses you, it’s never enough

And you can't stop smiling.

The feeling that courses under your skin is almost overwhelming. It still feels surreal—that kind of love, where just being with him made the world right

The possibility of losing Yoongi terrifies you, but it's a fear that follows you everyday. Sometimes, you expect to wake up one day only to realise that this is all a cruel dream, or to find the house suddenly void of his belongings and his presence.

Sometimes, the fear creeps in before you can stop it, a quiet panic that gripped you in the space between sleep and waking. You’d reach out, half-afraid to find the bed cold and empty. But then, your hand would meet the warmth of his skin, and the fear dissolved into nothing. Because every morning, he's here. Solid, warm, and real, wrapped up in the sheets beside you. His sleepy eyes, the soft curve of his lips, the way he pulls you closer as if you’re his anchor—it’s all so undeniably Yoongi, and it makes your heart flutter with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude.

You press your forehead to his, noses brushing, as if the closer you hold him, the more real this will become. Yoongi's fingers trail lightly over your skin, tracing invisible patterns that make you shiver.

“You’re thinking too much,” he murmurs, voice raspy but tender, like he's always known your thoughts even before you speak them.

You let out a soft sigh, trying to find the words, but they dissolve on your tongue when his hand glides over your waist, settling at the small of your back.

“You’re here,” you whisper, more to yourself than him. It's a quiet confession of the relief that washes over you each time you wake up to find him still beside you. He smiles against your skin, a low hum of agreement in his throat. "I don't know what I'd do if you weren't here."

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, his voice carrying the weight of every unspoken assurance. "You know that I'll always be right here-right beside you, whenever you need me."

For a moment, the world falls away. There’s no fear of loss, no dread of waking up alone. It’s just him, his presence grounding you, his breath steady and warm against your neck. The intimacy of the moment swells between you, a shared heartbeat that drowns out the rest of the world.

Your legs tangle beneath the sheets as he pulls you even closer, his hand finding yours under the covers. His touch is gentle, tender, as if he’s memorizing every inch of you, and in the glow of the early morning, you feel more connected to him than ever.

You close your eyes, letting the warmth of his skin seep into yours, feeling utterly safe in his embrace.

And in that moment, you know—this is home.

[shiplessoceans]

Moments in House MD that made me absolutely feral as an O.G fan that watched it as it aired back in the naughties, shipping House/Wilson hardcore and not realising I was queer:

1. Wilson loudly reciting a poem to House as he enters the hospital lobby which contains the line: "His manly chest, his stubbled jaw, everything about him leaves me raw.'

2. The look on Wilson's face when a random clinic patient gives House advice about his date with Cameron.

"Do her....or you're gay."

*cue Wilson looking to the side like...wait a minute...*

3. House: "They were not Prada! you wouldn't know Prada if it stepped on your scrotum."

4. Wilson: "House I believe you're a romantic, you didn't just believe him, you believed IN him! Wanna come over tonight, watch old movies and cry?"

5. House (yelling across a crowded lobby to Wilson): "How long can you go without sex?"

6. The look on Wilson's face when he gets a masseuse for House (!) and she massages his hand, causing him to begin moaning orgasmically.

7. Stacey: "What are you hiding?"

House: "I'm gay... Oh that's not what you meant! But it does explain a lot thought. No girlfriend, always with Wilson..."

8. House watching Wilson sleep on the couch in his apartment, then quietly erasing a voicemail from a real estate agent saying Wilson's apartment application for a new place went through.

9. Wilson, explaining his infidelity during his previous marriage, to Cameron when she's feeling awful because she considered cheating on her husband while he was dying:

"Well my wife wasn't dying, she wasn't even sick. But I met someone who made me feel...funny. Good. And I... didn't wanna let that feeling go."

The lack of pronoun haunts me to this day.

10. Gay male patient harassing House and questioning why he won't treat him:

Patient: "Because you're a closet case?" (Eyeing House and Wilson who have just emerged from House's apartment)

Wilson: "Uh...we're not...together..."

House: "He is so self-loathing."

11. House nearly kills himself to attempt to prove there is no afterlife, Wilson waits over his bedside and then calls him an idiot and orders him extra pain medication. House's response is:

"I love you."

12. House: "Big romantic weekend in the Poconos could change everything."

13. Wilson refusing to participate in a board vote to oust House from the hospital and consequently losing him job for House. Wilson's furious with him over being put in that position but forgives House easily.

14. Wilson (speaking to House about dating a woman eerily similar to House): "Why not? Why not date you? It's perfect! We've known each other for years, we put up with all kinds of crap from each other and we keep coming back. We're a couple!"

House: "Are we still speaking metaphorically?"

15. (Less than a minute later when House keeps trying to convince Wilson he and Amber are a bad idea).

Wilson: "Wait a minute, every time I agree with you, you come up with a new argument. What are you trying to avoid?"

House: *Stares at Wilson with the most meaningful eye contact to ever eye contact*

Wilson: "Oh! Well if you'd looked at me with those flashing eyes before I was involved (clicks tongue)."

16. To Wilson's new girlfriend in a threatening, 'stay away from my man' voice:

House: "Give him back his sweatshirt... Pit stains don't become you."

17. House: "This isn't just about the sex! You like her personality! You like that she's conniving. You like that she can humiliate someone if it serves..."

*tense pause*

House: "Oh my god. You're sleeping with me."

*flees restaurant*

18. House: "I have really gotta get you laid. If I have to plough that furrow myself, so be it."

19. Wilson: "I have a headache."

House: "We don't have to have sex, sometimes it's nice just to cuddle and talk."

20. (To a bellboy at a hotel House is staying at, while gesturing to Wilson)

House: "After he and I have sex, I'm gonna slit his throat and disembowel him in the bathtub."

21. House going to interview all of Wilson's ex wives to figure out how best to break him and Cuddy up when they aren't even dating. The look on his face when Bonnie explains how good at sex Wilson is? Priceless.

22. House: "Probably my deep and very unconscious desire to get Wilson into my bedroom."

22. House: "If you're coming back because you're attracted to the shine of my neediness. I'd be fine with that."

23. House borrowing money off Wilson in increasing amounts to test the limits of their friendship. He later admits to Wilson that: "Maybe I don't want to push this til it breaks".

24. House being convinced the male CIA agent who approaches him in season 4 is a stripper and sitting on a bench saying:

House: "You wanna close that door?"

CIA agent: "Why?"

House: "Well I assume you're gonna drop trou at some point during the dance, I don't see why I should share."

25. Wilson: "I want a threesome"

House: "Shouldn't we try a twosome first?"

26. All of that episode where House is talking to Dr Nolan and says Wilson is not a consolation prize. Legit became convinced halfway through that this was going to be House realising he's in love with Wilson and wants to keep living with him.

27. House hiring a P.I. to stalk Wilson after they've had a falling out to see if he misses him. The P.I. clocks this immediately and treats the case like that of a scorned lover needing to know if the other party is pining and if theres anything that can make him come back.

28. Wilson proposing to House in a restaurant to throw a wrench in his plans to date their neighbour.

29. Wilson got mad that Cuddy hurt House. So he bought her dream apartment out from under her in sheer spite and moved into said apartment with House.

30. Wilson being indecisive and unable to buy furniture for himself because of a flimsy sense of self and an inability to figure out who he is and what he wants. House teases him about this and challenges him to buy one peice of furniture that says something about who Wilson is.

The peice of furniture Wilson buys?

A piano organ for House.

31. House: "You were thinking about Wilson while were were having sex? That's cool so was I."

32. Wilson: "If things go wrong, I just want you to know..."

House: "If you're gonna say that you've always been secretly gay for me? Everyone just kind of assumed it."

33. Cameron: "Where do you put the cane?"

House: (referring to Wilson) "If he buys me dinner he can find out."

34. That gay as fuck ending, fuck I'll never be over it.

[hattiewritesalot]

Gevives (Beauty)

Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!reader

Summary: Jacaerys, ever the hard worker, is late to bed. Again. Luckily for him, you’re very forgiving.

Warnings: Reader and Jace have a daughter, one or two mentions of stress and overload, Jace being babygirl. Literally just fluff tbh

A/N: how’s it going lads im a little bit (very) in love with this pouty princess. I also wrote this at midnight for my sister so enjoy

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

A soft sigh escapes you as the wooden chair creaks against the stone floor, rocking back and forth, lulling you and your sweet daughter as she snores, slumped against your chest.

She’s as loud as the day she was born, kicking and screaming as she was lowered into your arms for the first time, and now, thank the gods, she screams less. She has, however, taken after her father with her snoring, noisy enough to rumble Dragonstone itself. You’re not surprised - not entirely, at least. Little Rhaenyra has been a daddy’s girl since the moment Jace held her, since the moment her chubby fingers curled around his one, and he weeped into her downy head. It baffles you that that was so long ago - you can see the image as clear as day.

Speaking of your most beloved husband, he’s still not here. His tendency to overwork himself is shining through, and he’s all but locked himself in his study to sort through his papers and meetings and arrangements and everything boring that you sometimes have the urge to burn so maybe, just maybe, he’ll come to bed on time.

‘Perks of being the eldest son, my darling wife.’ He’d once grinned, amber eyes glinting in the sunlight with that twinkle of mischief you love so much. He’d kissed you, then, and slipped away to occupy himself with his duties.

You can’t be mad at him, not really, not when your heart is brimming with the love and devotion you have for your Jace. Not when you’re carding your fingers through your toddler’s dark curls as she dreams. It doesn’t stop you from being frustrated though. You hate it when he burns himself out like this, knowing all too well the way he crumbles when the day is done. You’ll always be there, though, to pick up the shards and put him back together again, knowing he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat.

The door creaks open, and then it closes with a squeal of the hinges, and quiet footsteps patter behind you, Jace’s face peering around the rocking chair. He winces. “You’re awake?”

You cock a brow, shooting him a look. “Yes, I’m awake. And so are you.”

He sighs, then, pressing those full lips to your forehead and cradling your face, his free hand reaching down to stroke Rhaenyra’s hair. “I’m sorry, my wife. Everything is so… overwhelming right now. Some days I want to rip Aegon’s hair out, and some days I want to rip my own out.” 

“Please don’t. I quite like your pretty curls.”

“As you tell me so often, gevives.” Gevives. Beauty. Gods, this man has a chokehold on your heart.

“Perhaps I will find it in myself to forgive you.” You finally push up off your chair, cracking your back, groaning. “Remind me not to sit in that chair for too long.”

“I do remind you. You don’t listen.”

“You’re on thin ice, Velaryon.” 

You lower Rhaenyra into her cot, rocking it and shushing her gently when she squeaks. Jace’s hands curl around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder. “Our little princess.” He mumbles. “She’s perfect. Is she really ours?”

“Given that she snores like a bear and pouts all day, I’d say she is.”

He snorts. “I do not pout.” 

“He said, pouting.”

“You’re mean.” He turns you around, now, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. You love it when he’s this close, when you can count every freckle, every streak of gold and brown in his eyes, every curl. You smile at him. “You love it.”

He sighs dramatically, shaking his head, as if every word he speaks ails him. “Yes, yes I do. Gods save me from my cruel wife and her cruel ways.”

You scoff, but laughter bursts through it, pushing his shoulder and walking to the bed. “Fine. I guess you won’t be sleeping next to your cruel wife, then?” 

He’s scrambling out of his day clothes and under the covers before you can even fathom it, pulling you into his arms. He has the blood of the dragon, and runs hot when he sleeps. It’s nice on colder nights like this one, where you could bury yourself in his arms and never leave. His deft fingers trail up and down your spine, lips pressed against your hairline.

He calls you the beauty, but it is only because you are so infatuated with the man next to you. Every part of him; the sweet, gentlemanly parts, and the bitter, ugly parts; holds a dear place in the organ beating beneath your breast. Jacaerys Velaryon isn’t just your husband - he’s your best friend, your soul-mate (as the poets may say), and every time his fingers intertwine with yours, you like to think that your very beings intertwine too. You and Jace will find each other wherever you need to, for you know he is never far when he loves you so.

He sighs, nestling into your hair, and you gently kiss his jaw. “Promise me something, husband?”

He hums in response.

“Promise me you’ll take a break tomorrow?”

It takes him a long moment, but eventually, he swallows, nodding, body sagging against yours. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“Hush, I don’t need to hear it. I love you, alright? Even if you don’t show up to bed on time, even if you sometimes infuriate me with how much you put on yourself.”

He chuckles softly at that, pulling you in closer. “I adore you, my lady.”

You’re half-asleep by now, safe and content within the comfort of your lover’s arms. “Not as much as I adore you.”

You could have this argument for years, endless bickering of ‘I love you more’s, but you don’t. Not now, at least.

Now, you hold each other, falling asleep within the solidarity of your love.

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

I actually like this sort of a tiny bit

[dragon-ascent]

Imagine having been with Zhongli for a while now, and you're suspicious about his true identity. So you decide to stage a confrontation when the two of you are alone at Wuwang Hill one night.

"I know what you are."

Zhongli stiffens, a little perturbed by the seriousness in your tone. The blue wisps of light dancing around you two cast an eerie glow upon the scene, which happens to be unfolding in the dead of night. He clears his throat. "Please, enlighten me, my dear."

You continue, looking him square in the eye. "Your skin is pale, and...alright, admittedly not cold. You never seem to need sleep. You only wear dark colors, and you have a refined manner of speaking and thinking, almost like...you come from another time."

Outwardly, Zhongli maintains his composure, though in his head he's already going through numerous ways he can gently break the news to you without you passing out.

"You really like silk flowers, which are red...like blood," you say excitedly. "Your eyes are unnaturally amber. Blood also comes in shades of amber, sometimes."

Your lover's brows are furrowed now. He only becomes even more perplexed when you start taking off the scarf around your neck, unraveling it slowly. "Darling, it's cold tonight-"

"So, you're a vampire, aren't you?" you cut in pointedly, a triumphant grin plastered on your face. "I should have known! I suspected it all along."

Zhongli blinks. "Er...pardon?"

Your grin widens. "Now that I know, please don't think I'll be scared of you! I've always been into supernatural creatures. So...feel free to drink my blood whenever you please!" You bare your neck to him, practically giddy. "But be gentle, it's my first time!"

When the appalled Zhongli reveals his real identity as the Prime of Adepti, God of Contracts, and former Geo Archon, you merely sigh, upset at having gotten it wrong.

[morphids]

false pretenses, hange zoë

so im absolutely obsessed with this thank you for putting this idea in my head😰😵‍💫wish i could tag u anon </3

original request here [X]

pairing: college au - engineering student!hange x student!female reader - they/them pronouns for hange, afab anatomy for both

summary: the best way to get what you want is to do it yourself right?

warnings: listen this is real slutty ok, explicit sexual content 18+ minors dni - loser lesbian!hange (hange has that autistic nerd rizz), its always the quiet ones, r thinks she’s slick af, poc friendly- no physical descriptions of reader, kinda-bratty/switch!reader (r gets v subby) top-leaning!Hange (im a top i swear), strap, dirty talk, nicknames, munch activities, fingering, finger sucking, cunnilingus, praise, brief asphyxiation, i cant think of anymore

wc: 4.9k (not proofread)

an: excuse the shitty engineering attempts im not a stem girl!! hope y’all enjoy <3

—

You watched Hange from across the library, gazing over their features as they frowned. Brow creased as they solved equations that your professor had so kindly left everyone to complete after your seminar. Sometimes you’d catch their teeth nip at their bottom lip, in pensive thought.

Hange wasn't around many people, not that you saw anyway, usually kept to themselves or with the same two friends you'd seen them with. Their head often deep into a book or back hunching over a desk working some form of assignment, headphones placed over their hair.

Looking over their face, you studied Hange's strong jaw, the way their slender hand held up the weight of their head as the other scribbled down notes into their notebook. The sluttiest black tank top layered underneath an unbuttoned white dress shirt, draping over baggy brown straight-leg pants. Hair up with so many layers resting against their cheeks, framing their lovely face as multiple strands plumed out from within the hair tie. Their amber eyes lay under small, thin, glasses atop their nose. God, that nose. Perfect to sit on. Perfect to ride to holy heaven.

If it wasn’t clear, you'd had a bit of an eye on Hange for the last semester, they had transferred from a different university a while back. Upon seeing them for the first time, you wanted to speak to them. Their slightly introverted nature had made you keep your distance, though, but it was getting harder to fight the urge to go talk to them. I mean, how weird would that be? Hi, I know you don't know me but I've been obsessed with you since you transferred here? Yeah right.

No, you had to be more creative than that.

You needed a valid reason to speak to Hange so that you didn’t come across as the world’s biggest creep. Luckily for you, Hange was by far the smartest person on campus. Grades always incredibly well above average, scoring top marks in every assignment they’d submitted. So much so, that the professor had pretty much already taken them in under his wing. Due to their helpful nature and extensive knowledge in a fair range of fields, your professor was preparing Hange to be his TA after graduation. Oftentimes, passing Hange over to tutor students in his classes that lacked the grades that were expected of them at this stage in the course.

And even more luckily for you, you seemed to be really struggling with the new module. Or at least that’s what your alibi was. Who needed to know that your grades had actually been consistent passes? You were pretty strong at your theory, but you had only slightly slacked off in your classes during your professors teachings of mathematical methods and linear equations. It couldn’t hurt to get a bit of extra assistance to fill in the missing gaps.

Deciding to bite the bullet, you walked up to Hange, they barely noticed a presence beside, music blaring through the headphones, until your shoes came into their peripheral vision, spotting the black boots right beside the chair.

Their gaze followed up your bare legs, eyes slightly widened as they realised you were indeed about to induce a conversation with them and not just wandering past to get to an actual destination. They removed one cup of their headphones off their ear, holding it up with their fingers so they could listen to you. You noticed the multiple bands resting above their knuckles, bulky metallic rings varied with different patterns and weldings.

“Oh, um— hi?” Hange spoke, slightly confused, they had been deeply distracted into their equations, not anticipating someone coming to speak to them. Definitely not you, of all people.

“Hey, um— sorry to ruin your flow, but I was wondering if you could,” hesitance struck you, feeling your carefully planned script fall apart under Hange’s gaze, eyes still wide and nodding their head as a prompt for you to finish, removing the headphones fully to rest the band on the back of their neck. Why are they so hot, you thought, fumbling over yourself. “If you could tutor me with this module, you’re the smartest person in this place according to Mr. Fritz,” You joked, softening your words with a meek giggle. An attempt to make not make it seem like a big deal even though you could feel your heartbeat thump in your ears and throat.

“You can totally say no, of course,” you quickly added, after realising you didn’t actually offer them an out, not wanting to pressure Hange into having more on their plate than there already was.

Hange’s eyebrows pulled together, lips split as a wash of suspicious perplexity strained their features, only for a second before returning to normal. Back to their friendly warmth with an amiable smile stretched on their lips.

“Sure, I’d love to help,” Their eyes held yours, you to let out a faint breath of relief. “I’ve got a few things to do on campus for a while, but, I can meet you after?”

“That’d be great, thank you!” You offered to exchange phone numbers for ‘easier communication’ to plan around Hange’s schedule, before duly proposing that they come over to your dorm, as the library closed after five o’clock, and your roommates were gone for a week-long field trip.

“I’ll let you know when I’m on the way, then,” They smiled, an amused smirk etching itself on their lips before they could help it.

“That’s perfect, I appreciate it,” You beamed, “I’ll, um, leave you to your equations,” You stepped away, turning around to make your exit from the library. Hange didn’t miss the way your eyes fell onto their lips for just, perhaps, a little bit too long than was deemed socially conventional, or the way you seemed to grow flustered as they stimmed with their fingers. Hange’s gaze followed you as you walked on, trailing down to your exposed legs underneath a short skirt that hung over thick, sinuous thighs. Hange looked back down at their notebook, as they chuckled, shaking their head with endearment at your crafty deceit.

Hange certainly isn’t stupid, due to their proximity working with the professor, they were painfully aware of the more… problematic students in Mr. Fritz’ class. You were never one of them. In fact, he had even used some of your past assignments as example guidelines for the newer students. Needing help with the easiest part of the module? No way were they believing that.

—

A knock at your door, and you smoothened the fabric of your clothes, hoping to reduce any lingering creases or maybe even just to calm your nerves. You had tidied up, making your bedroom look more presentable and less like a cove of disordered chaos.

Opening the door, there stood Hange, handsome and ravishing in all their tall glory. A hand reached up to stabilise the one strap of their backpack that hung on their shoulder, the other strap dangling behind. You tried to stop, you really did, but you trailed over their figure, lured into their nonchalant stance that just exuded casual confidence as they looked back at you, an eyebrow cocked up.

Breaking contact, you welcomed them in, Hange dropped their backpack onto the floor to relieve the weight of all the heavy textbooks from their shoulders. Hand raising back up to remove the headphones from their neck, placing them atop their bag, hooked on the top handle.

You sat at your couch, leaving enough space for Hange to comfortably place themselves on. Trying to be discreet, you watched as they took off their dress shirt, hanging it on the arm of the couch, you presumed Hange was using the layer against the slightly cooler breeze outside— you couldn’t lie, you were kinda glad to see it off. Hange’s bicep was well sculpted against their black tank top as it melted into toned forearms. Tanned and strong. There was a brown cord bracelet dangling from their wrist as they rested it on their propped up knee. God, I’m no better than a man, you thought.

“So, what’d you need help with?” Hange pushed up their glasses with their ringed index finger, you wondered if that was something they often did subconsciously before beginning a task.

“Linear algebra and probability theory,”

“Hmm,” Hange nodded, a short tug at the corner of their lips, leaning their elbows on the top of their thighs, “Yeah, that stuff is pretty hard, but,”

“What did you score on the last exam?” Hange turned their head your way, amber eyes meeting yours, with a devious look.

You froze, shit. It felt like a trick question, surely Hange didn’t know the score you totalled? Surely, Hange didn’t know that you were just seven marks from a full score? It almost felt as if they were luring you into a trap; to see if you’d double down with the lie and continue with this facade or if you’d crack and admit defeat. Lose-lose either way, you’d end up embarrassed or having to make yourself look incredibly foolish.

Voice breaking in your throat, you held eye contact. Whereas Hange’s was steady and sharp, yours felt like you were just exposing yourself further the longer you remained silent.

“I-I don’t remember,” A neutral answer, you decided, totally not because you had been rendered nonverbal, clearing your throat and seeing the way Hange’s lips stretched fully into a knowing smirk.

“Hmm, you don’t remember,” They were definitely mocking you now, voice low, humming and melodic as you felt the thunder in your chest beat. You looked down at your thighs, fingers fiddling with a loose hem on your skirt.

“Getting the impression I wasn’t invited over for some homework,” They chuckled, leaning back against the support of the couch, arm stretching over the top.

One sentence and it was out in the open, the illusion you thought was so deceiving completely shattered as your true intentions came to light. Yup, embarrassing, just as you thought.

“So, why don’t you tell me the actual reason you invited me over,” If the last sentence was a stab to your confidence, this one was an extra twist in the wound. Hange was smirking at you, the mirthful look in their eyes showing you that they were relishing in your embarrassment and flustered face.

You swallowed a deep breath, feeling your skin ignite both with anticipation and nerves so lethal you almost wanted to bury yourself underneath the seat, never to be seen again.

“I, uh—“ you mumbled, the script had truly crumbled, you had no plan B apart from just spewing out the truth. You’d die before you had to do that.

“You seem a bit flustered,” Hange hummed, leaning on the back of the couch, as their thighs came to spread, “Why’s that, hm?”

The unlevelled confidence that radiated from them just seemed to further your own unease. It wasn’t often you felt that way, usually being the one to initiate flirtations with others. Yet, everything about Hange just seemed to drag you into a state of bashfulness, totally out of character as you failed to make eye contact.

“Will you look at me, love?”

You ceded, eyes meeting, as you let out a sigh. Hange placed a testing hand upon your bare knee, tentative runs of their thumb over the skin. Soft, Hange thought. The feeling eliciting shivers down your spine, warm waves down to your core, reducing you to a state of feeling unreasonably touch-starved. Hange gazed down your thighs, deliciously covered by the fabric of your skirt, moistening the edge of their upper lip with the tip of their tongue, before flickering their eyes back to you.

“What is it you really want?”

Fuck. A short gasp escaped your throat as their hand trailed up, fingers reaching underneath the hem of the short skirt. Hange was toying with you, no doubt about it.

“I… I wanted to speak to you,”

Humming, their hand moved further, “Why?”

“I found you…” you paused when their fingertips skimmed over your panties, your thighs twitched. “C-captivating, needed a reason to speak to you,”

Hange chuckled, as they leaned forward to reach the bottom of your ear, your breath hitching as their lips ghosted over the skin.

“You could’ve just asked, pretty,” Hange’s voice whispered against your ear, as you closed your eyes. You were so down bad.

“Think I haven’t noticed you, huh?” One light kiss at your skin, “Think I haven’t seen the way you stare at me?” Another kiss, ever so gentle that you almost melted into them, biting back a needy groan. Hange’s hand squeezed at your thigh, fingers towards your centre, just barely grazing over the fabric.

“I mean—god, darling, if you wanted me to fuck you that badly all you needed to do was ask nicely,” Hange’s teeth nipped at your lobe, drawing out the skin with it.

“So, ask me nicely,”

Another squeeze at your inner thigh, and no longer could you withhold the groan that you’d been holding back. You were fighting so many demons right now, hesitant to verbalise your inner desires. Hange remained near your ear, licking at the soft skin. Fuck it.

“I want you so fucking bad,” Your voice came out so much whinier than you expected, used to hearing that tone from others, but never from yourself.

“Aren’t you gonna say please?” They chuckled, dragging it out, teasing. Hange eyed the pout at your lips, the slight frown in your brows—could tell you were used to getting what you wanted easily, to not submitting. They planned to fix that.

“Fucks sake—please, Hange,” You pressed your thighs together, trapping Hange’s hand as they gripped you, as a prompt for them to do something, anything.

“Better.”

With their other hand, the one not currently trapped in between your legs, Hange grabbed at your hip. Kneading over your hip bone, where the dainty zip of your skirt dangled. The sensation caused your thighs to loosen autonomously, as Hange opportunely released their hand an inch. Slipping underneath the hem of your damp panties, fingers teasing at your slit, collecting your slick.

“You this messy just for me?” Their sinful, warm words made you shiver, goosebumps down your arms as they hit your ear. You wriggled, skirt rolled up to your hips, exposing your panties. Messy, indeed. You were growing impatient as you attempted to roll your hips into their hand, craving contact. Hange’s fingers recoiled, pushing from your slit pulling the fabric with as they tutted. Tightening their other hand on your hip once more, stilling your movements.

“C’mon, surely you’ve figured out how this works by now,” Hange’s words sounded so sweet, if it wasn’t for the absolute torture lurking underneath. Eager to tease and play with you for as long as it would take for you to actually listen and cede. With a brattish groan and a sigh, you nodded.

“Words, darling, use them.”

“Y-yes, shit—all for you, Hange.” Voice breathy, avidly impatient. Your core leaked more slick when it clenched, totally ruining your panties as it clung to your folds. The sight absolutely delectable. “I need you so bad—can’t take it,”

There it was. Finally.

“Was that so hard?” Hange hummed, a satisfied smirk creeping over their lips as they teased a finger down your slit, only slightly breaking through your entrance. Pressing your lips against theirs as you whimpered into the kiss, biting at Hange’s plump bottom lip.

“Now then, be a good girl and stay put.”

Hange pressed their finger fully into you, soon adding another two once they saw how keenly you were taking them already, walls wet and ready. Your head fell into Hange’s neck, meek moans spilling from your mouth as their slender fingers hit the back of your squishy walls.

Without removing themselves from your warm heat, Hange cased a hand at your ass, pulling you on top of their lap. Using their clothed thigh to rut their fingers up even further, other hand forcing your hips into gyration against them. The friction from their jeans hit against your sensitive clit and with their fingers inside you, you were a hot mess already. Needy and desperate from their heartless teasing.

“Ah—that’s…fucking good,” You hissed, as Hange lapped their tongue down your neck, before sucking, branding you with many dark marks leading down to your chest.

Catching the hem of your shirt, you threw your arms up to discard it, revealing your breasts to the room’s cool air, heaving up and down with heavy breaths. Hange almost moaned at the sight of you, shirtless with a short skirt pooled around your hips, draping over their knees. Of course you weren’t wearing a bra, they thought. As Hange thrust their fingers into you, their mouth wrapped over your nipples, flicking over them with their tongue. Nipping lightly over the peaks. You arched your back into them, feeling yourself grow closer, the tension in your abdomen building as you bit your lip.

Your hips lost their rhythm, aimlessly chasing the feeling of Hange’s fingers deep within you. Languid gasps and breathless moans escaping your lips. So, so close to your peak until the sensation was suddenly stripped away, leaving you totally empty. Hange removing their fingers, you could hear your own slick cry as they did, your walls tensing.

“Wha-“ You were a bit dazed, a truthfully a little annoyed, you had been so close.

“You’ve not earned it yet,” Hange laughed, clearly relishing in your frustration. They liked this, liked making you destitute, left wanting. Hange had every intention of fixing that sugared insolence they could see within you. Had every intention of tearing it inside out.

Hange reached down to their leather belt, maintaining eye contact as they unclasped the metal peg, lifting you up off their knees slightly to pull their jeans down, before removing their tank top. Their chest rose up and down, bound beneath a black binder. You could see their own centre soaking through their underwear. You ogled their figure, groaning as your sinful thoughts worsened. The kind of imagination that would surely commit you to purgatory indefinitely.

Hange pecked your charming pout away, before bringing their soaked fingers up in front of your mouth. Spreading your lips open with their thumb, shoving it inside so you could taste your own slick on it. Their other fingers followed suit.

“Clean up your mess,”

Hange watched you, your lips bruised and plump as they split to allow entrance for their index and middle finger. Sucking your juices off them as you moaned, gagging as they hit the back of your throat. Brows pinched and eyes brimmed with tears from the hot burn. Hange’s thumb pressed against your bottom teeth, pulling your jaw open, a line of drool slipping out from the corner of your open mouth. Hange would kill just about anyone for you, they thought. Irreversibly addicted to you, your needy eyes and the way you fell to follow their orders.

“So beautiful,”

Hange hung over you. Looking into your glassy eyes, with the hold against your jaw, pinky finger at your chin, they held your mouth open, spitting on your tongue.

“Swallow.”

You did. Quite happily as you groaned, muffled as your mouth was stuffed. Feeling yourself grind against Hange’s bare thigh, your core clenching around nothing as you yearned for the feeling of their fingers back inside you. Your inner thighs completely soaked, spreading it all over Hange’s bare legs.

“Such a good girl—so obedient for me,” They hummed, relieving their attack on your mouth, taking their fingers out and grasping the back of your neck, “Wonder if anyone else has ever slut you out like this, hm?”

You shut your eyes, leaning into their touch as you whined out a passive ‘No’, shaking your head to Hange’s question, not fully trusting the strength of your own voice. Fuck, you were totally gone, lost in salacity and paralysed by your own thirst. Almost brain-dead as your desire thumped in your ears, and throbbed at your core. About to explode from your own ardour as it’d eagerly been building up. Hange was divinely addictive, a substance you should never have risked trying. You could never possibly go back now, too ruined to ever possibly go to anyone else. Totally and utterly hooked on Hange.

“Aw, look how docile you are now, pretty.”

Hange kissed at your neck, coming back up to meet your lips again as you mewled against them.

“H-Hange— please, need more,” You squirmed against their lap, “Can’t take it, need to cum so badly,” You were finally begging, hesitation leaving you to fend for yourself as Hange had you right where they wanted.

“Yeah? How do you want it, baby?”

In between strained breaths, you pointed to your drawers. Strategically placed next to the couch, as Hange reached over. Chuckling once they saw your strap in its resting place.

“This what you want?”

Nodding, you rutted against Hange’s thigh, forcing some friction to rub against your clit.

“Please, fuck,” You sobbed, visions of Hange stuffing you with your strap forcing you to squeeze your thighs against Hange’s lap.

“Since you asked so nicely,”

Hange gently nudged you off their lap, to allow them to slide the harness over their thighs. You sat beside them, legs folded underneath yourself. Hand placed delicately on the side of their head, pressing sweet kisses down the skin of their neck as they adjusted the harness to fit around the circumference of their thighs. Hange shivered under your lips, eyes shutting as they indulged in the sensation for a moment, cursing as you began to lick under their lobe. You were delightful.

Hange’s hand danced along your thigh, fingers streaming past your slit as they groaned at how unbelievably wet you were.

“You’re fucking sublime,” They groaned, dragging you over their lap, hands ripping both the skirt and your ruined panties off your legs. Hange laid their back on the couch, folding your bare thighs over their jaw. You bit your lip in keen anticipation, it was almost as if you had manifested this.

“Fuck—Hange, I’ve dreamt about this for so fucking long,” Your legs twitched above Hange’s face, as a radiant smirk shone on their lips.

“Yeah? Thought about this?” Their hands clung around the plush skin of your ass, fingers squeezing tightly. They pulled you on to a steady stream along their face, teased a lick up your folds before your slit was pressed down against their flat tongue, lapping up your slick as their nose rubbed over your clit.

“F-fuck, so much—was just like this,” You gasped as you rode Hange’s face, watching dumbly as their face contorted with gluttonous solace. Eyebrows creasing as they focused on eating you out. You crumbled, finally feeling some release after being teased for what felt like many unbearable hours. Truly, it was better than you could have imagined, Hange’s fly-aways catching on their cheeks and the sides of their face as they grew dampened, your slick slapping their cheeks and fogging up their glasses from splatters and wet heat.

Resting your hand on their knees for stability, your fingers acted on their own as you came to reach underneath the strap that was dangled in the air, waiting to be used. Your fingers came to meet Hange’s folds, sliding easily past their sensitive labia, nearly as wet as your own, aching. Having been unbearably turned on since they saw your body’s visceral responses to them.

“That’s—so fucking hot, shit,” You whimpered, lost in the feeling of Hange’s insistent tongue slowly flicking deep against you and the way their centre seemed to just suck your fingers right in. Hange let out a muffled, guttural grunt into you, the vibrations making you clamp your thighs tight against their head. You almost felt apologetic, if it wasn’t for Hange, who seemed to get riled up by the very prospect of being choked out by your luscious thighs. Oxygen supply decreasing as amber eyes rolled into the back of their head, toned arms pulling you closer against them. Leaving behind marks on your skin that outlined where their fingers had been digging in.

Whilst simultaneously, you were plunging your fingers knuckles deep into their entrance. Your body leaning back as you bucked your wrist against them, fingers curling inwards against their walls. Hange’s eyes were stuck on you, watching as your body rocked against their mouth. Head hung back and breasts perked up as beads of sweat trickled down, illuminating your skin, the fine hairs around your stomach standing upright. Looking properly, they spotted a few moles scattered on your stomach, your lips were swollen as they bit out mutters of curses under your breath. Still trying to return the favour even despite feeling ruined. How divine.

The sight alone brought Hange to their knees, hazy pleasure erupting through them as they felt their body tremble. Truthfully, Hange seldom let people touch them, opting to typically give rather than receive, yet they felt like giving you permission to do whatever you wished with their body. They were so hypersensitive, extra responsive under your ambrosial touch. Debauched gasps melted into your core, still lapping at your slick as they rode through their own peak. Shuddering, as they seized their thighs against your wrist.

“Did you cu-“ Your excited, breathy voice was cut off by Hange grabbing your wrist, ripping your fingers out of themselves from overstimulation, their centre tensing with arousal dripping down their folds. Hange nodded as an affirmative, you could tell they were slightly stunned. Hange held your wrist against your back, elbow folding over as they lifted themselves up. Disconnecting your slit from their mouth, and moving you around as you returned to facing each other, your legs resting over their lap once more.

Hange’s spare hand caressed your jaw, uniting your lips together as they melded over yours. Sloppy, open-mouthed kisses, slipping their tongue into your mouth. You whined as they angled the tip of the strap over your folds, your slick lubricating the plastic. Hange was frenzied, desperately needing to see you stuffed with the silicone length. Elated from their own high, their words grew more depraved.

“Need to fuck this pussy,” They rasped, voice at the lowest frequency you’d heard from them, “Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen,”

Your lips parted as Hange slipped the tip inside, stretching your walls out as you gripped onto their shoulders. Hissing as you adjusted to Hange burying themselves into your tender flesh. Sinking yourself down on the strap as your hips undulated against them, pressure building up again within your abdomen as Hange fucked the strap deep into you. Tip massaging over your inner walls, repeatedly hitting that same spot that made your breath catch in your throat and your vision go white.

“Fuc—keep going, pleas—please,” Mewling, you shut your eyes, eyebrows furrowing as your nails came to scratch at Hange’s back. Your words coming out in broken sobs, tears spilling down your cheeks as you were split apart on your own strap.

“So full—Hange—“

Hange sucked against your neck, then licking over the sore spots.

“Taking me so well,” Hange praised, voice sweetly laden with saccharine honey, “Sat so pretty on my cock,”

“ngh—Shit-I-I’m gonna come,” You were shaking, thighs trembling and abdomen twitching. Finally about to release after being so cruelly edged twice. The expression on your way was picture-worthy, fucked out and wanton.

“That’s it,” Hange kept rutting up into you, muttering praises, “Come all over me, baby,” A nibble at your earlobe and you were done for. Your climax reached you, tensing up your spine, mouth agape as you shuddered, face contorted.

“You look so pretty when you come,”

Your core tightened as you spilled out your release; the force pushing the strap out from inside you, squirting all over Hange’s lap. The hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

Hange didn’t relent just yet, making sure to fuck you through your peak so you could ride every second of it. When you finally stilled, your head fell onto Hange’s neck, murmuring softly against their clavicle. Sighing, you lifted your head up, greeting Hange’s half-lidded eyes with your own. A beat and Hange reconnected your lips together, gently kissing you as you came down. Mind still fuzzy and reeling. Their hands caressed your hips, thumbs running down your skin.

“You’re beautiful,” Hange whispered, pressing a tender peck down against your swollen lips, “Wish you would’ve talked to me earlier,”

You laughed, breathy and uneven, as bashfulness struck again. Once the cloud of lust had settled, you were left with nerves, that doe look back in your eyes as you weren’t quite sure what to do now. What if Hange never wants to see you again? After all of this, you don’t think you could handle being emotionally ghosted. It was unlike you entirely, but the interest in Hange remained, simmering as you relished in their tight hold— a hold that almost promised you it wasn’t going to leave. You dared to dream.

“What are you thinking about?” Hange muttered, resting their forehead against yours, eyes closing.

“Um…” You hummed, hesitant, “This, I guess, I’m a little… nervous,”

“I guess I am, too,” They chuckled, pressing their head closer, hands still setting your skin aflame, “But, i-if you’d like to, I wanna take you out,” Pausing, “On a real date, that is, not under false tutoring pretences,”

You pulled your head back, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to stretch, an attempt at masking the hopeful beam in your eyes.

“I’d love that.”

—

listen u guys 😭 someone pls sedate me or give me a lobotomy cos what am i meant to do when i PINE over 2d characters

let me know if u guys enjoyed <3 i love to read ur comments and inputs

[quimichi]

-ˏˋ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ CRUSH HDCS ࿐ྂ Pt. 1.....

WARNING: × pure fluff in my opinion

SUMMARY: just some idiots with a crush...you :)

CHARACTERS: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Amber, Arlecchino, Ayaka, Ayato & Baizhu x F!Reader

WORD COUNT: 1.537

AETHER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Paimon is so done with his constant ranting and crying about you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 She had to stop herself from telling you so often like "Just PLEASE date him already" because she couldn't just fall into her besties back like that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you would think he doesn't really like you cause he's all quite. Wrong, he actually jusz tries to cope with his rising heat and nervousness around you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he once tell you that you smell nice even tho you were sweating lile a sinner in church? Yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did he also tell you that you look a bit different and like you haven't slept good after a haircut?...yes

ᯓᡣ𐭩 listen, he was concerned for you-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 everything was so embarrassing for him he thought you hate him now--- well, you didn't. Its hard not to find this weird and awkward ball of sunshine nice

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he also helps you out a lot, no matter whats the issue he's ready to help. And Paimon is the third wheel

ᯓᡣ𐭩 sometimes when he's nervous and talks to you he like suddenly needs to swallow down spit cause it gets stuck in his throat?? Idk how to explain it but i have this issue lol and its so hard to cover up the swallowing cause then people know youre nervous-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 literally once walked into a wall because he was looking at you. Luckily no one saw...except Paimon--she won't let him forget that ever

ᯓᡣ𐭩 speaking of Paimon, bro literally asked her for advice, and she was useful? Hey, look. Shes more than just emergency food-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she was like, "If you truly love someone, you cook them something good! Love goes through the stomach!"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and thats why he desperately cooks for you every day---just put Paimon out of her misery and kiss him already

ALBEDO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how and why it happened but he won't complain, you are pretty so-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 kinda takes it as an opportunity to study love a bit lol. Its not like he's dumb, far from that, he knows what hes feeling and why he feels attracted to you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but somehow he can't tell you, words fail him to explain why although he knows

ᯓᡣ𐭩 is confused and is irritated lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 did tell Succrose about it and my girl can hardly keep secrets-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh and like around a week after he noticed his crush on you he confessed

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's pretty blunt and honest, straightforward if you will.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 there's honestly not much to say, he knows he likes you, also probably knows it's mutual, logic conclusion would be that he confesses so you two can consider a relationship after some time

ᯓᡣ𐭩 easy??? Like what's not to get???

AL-HAITHAM

ᯓᡣ𐭩 the strongest feeling he ever had for someone else was a book character-and that's also pretty rare cause he doesn't read fiction he only reads facts-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 treats you normally with a sprinkle of kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 you don't notice, no one would notice. Good for Al-Haitham cause ew what if people realize hes just a regular human being?? Can't have that

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would tell you to take breaks and eat an apple or other fruits in those breaks so you can concentrate better afterwards. Oh and take a breath of fresh air

ᯓᡣ𐭩 keeps the bitch face on. Only drops it when you're not looking.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 finds it incredibly cute when you play with your hair or bite your lip. Your concentration is adorable...

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you read like him, he would consider reading one of your favorite books, even if it's stupid and not his thing at all. He wants a good reason to talk to you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 has no idea how to get out of the "I'm so fucking cool" bs to actually get closer to you without seeming cringe or needy

ᯓᡣ𐭩 feelings aren't his thing but hey, he trys. Just pay more attention and maybe you make it easier for him by doing the first step

AMBER

ᯓᡣ𐭩 nah cause she's so honest about it-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 probably all Mondstadt and their granny's know that Amber has a crush on you, except for you....dumbass

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she always asks you if you wanna join her on god knows what adventures

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she also always packs lunch for you

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like i said, she is pretty vocal about it and shows it quite well that she has an interest in you....and youre just brushing it off as kindness

ᯓᡣ𐭩 always ready to help! And she doesn't even need a thank you. Helping you is enough to make her happy, seeing your relieved is all she needs.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 gifts you flowers on a regular basis because they're just as pretty as you ♡

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's so straightforward about her crush on you it's insane. People think she's dating you already, well wrong--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 big talk and actions but when it comes to beinh very vocal about her feelings she shuts down-she would stutter and blush not knowing what to say-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 like, pls stop being so oblivious to her attempts and just tell her you like her--then she'll confess too!

ARLECCHINO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 look, she's a busy woman (father), she doesn't have time for stupid crushes. She'll either tell you immediately once she figured it out, or just waits till the feelings disappear over time.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 why? If she is uncertain that this would work out with a fatui harbinger, then she wouldn't confess at all. You won't notice a thing.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but if she does feel like it could work out, maybe not immediately because you need time...and yeah maybe she needs to know a 100% too, she would court you (??)

ᯓᡣ𐭩 presenting you the finest things from all nations. Also giving you ifts from your home region cause...well maybe you miss it? And if you're from Fontaine she gives you only the most expensive shit hidden from all normal ordinary people-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she sneaks her way in your heart ngl-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and if she ever sees you with one of the things she gave you, she would make sure others know. Who knows who might have an interest in you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 would also make some space in her schedule just for you. Lets you know too. No, not to make you feel bad, nahhh. She wants you to know how important you are to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and that she will always have time for you no matter what.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's kinda advertising herself. "Look, I'm the baddest bitch around."

AYAKA

ᯓᡣ𐭩 also makes space in her very busy schedule just for you. And if she can't find the time so you both can be alone, she takes you with her to her appointments and everything.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wants her brothers 'ok' for it all. She wouldn't feel quite comfy if Ayato wouldn't like you. Thomas opinion is also very important to her.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if she every plays this weird cooking game with you, she trys to make it tame. She doesn't want you too disgusted or near throwing up cause then she'd feel bad

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and also trys cooking for you normally. She trys ok, she's getting better and better. Takes this as an excuse to cook your favorite meals.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 dances with you! She's shy about it but she does. Ayaka teaches you her favorite dances and moves, and would get quite close to you by doing this...plus for her

ᯓᡣ𐭩 but besides this she's very shy about her crush on you and won't admit it very fast. Even after months she wouldn't dare say a word about it to you or hint anything to drastic.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 tbh, it has to be you who would need to make the first step lol

AYATO

ᯓᡣ𐭩 very obvious...I mean...he gives you flowers, jewelry, new clothes. He takes you to events or dinners, important meetings. Lets you stay in the Kamisato estate for free. Bitch you even have your own room??

ᯓᡣ𐭩 ITS SO OBVIOUS

ᯓᡣ𐭩 i can't tell you more, except, just...just talk with him about it. Confront him and say, "yes" that's all he wants to hear from you.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 and see you happy ofc

BAIZHU

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if Chansheng can keep her mouth shut he wouldn't tell you at all. Or at least not so fast.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 if you know, you know. Baizhus story is...something. i won't spoiler tho

ᯓᡣ𐭩 because of that he needs to be very sure about it all. He can't just jump into something that might not work out at all or have no future in the beginning.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he would show his interest with nice little gestures. Giving you medicine for free, helping your loved ones when sick also for free, smiling just a bit more at you or teaching you about herbs and all.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 he's very gentle with you, scared he might break you. In truth it's actually him who would break--

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Qiqi would notice, she's a smart girl ofc she would. Yeah she knew you two were a thing before you two knew lol

ᯓᡣ𐭩 oh yeah and Changsheng blew it all-

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Your hands wouldn't shake so much if you wouldn't love her"

TAGLIST ♡

@hehothrowawayfae @lucienbarkbark @ryu--19 @theblades @rikasurl