#honkai star rail fluff

[gamerbot-22]

🎯White Noise🐉

TW/CW: Budding BootHeng <3, only one bed trope, Boothill’s non-swearing, Transcribed Cowboy Accent, Dan Heng has some dragon habits, Dan Heng has some lingering trauma from his time pre-Astral Express, Boothill's nostalgic for home, barely proofread and I appreciate spellchecks!

Word Count: 3,709

A/N: Hehehe, it’s gift fic time! This is for @theniastarfell, for correctly guessing the final subject of my Daily HSR Ficlet series! We decided to go with two of The Bestest Boys for the fic’s subjects :3c Real fast, I do want to thank them again for following along with the series so closely, it made me so happy as a writer to see their commentary <3 Also what do we think of the combined format? I think it’s cute :3 and how lucky am I that there’s some canon GIFs of these lads together? (Also don’t. Ask me what the hanzi says cause I don’t know for sure.)

Likes and Reblogs appreciated (reblogs > likes) and Requests are Open! Read this story on Ao3 here!

The dividers in this post were made by @/gamerbot-22 (me!) ☆

© All rights reserved by miHoYo

Is it weird to be impressed with how well someone adapts to laying low?

The Nameless are basically ambassadors across the galaxy, wandering mediators that make a habit of stopping to help whenever they’re needed, driven by the altruistic spirit of the Trailblaze. Regardless of disposition, Nameless are, for lack of a better term, available.

That availability didn’t surprise Boothill when Dan Heng volunteered to tag along as backup when it came time to follow up on a lead. Heck, upon accepting the Ranger thought that availability might make this little mission more difficult, seeing as Nameless weren’t exactly in the habit of laying low. But Dan Heng took to ducking into alleys and dodging patrolling IPC soldiers like he was born to do it, slipping from shadow to shadow before Boothill could even give him the order to. It was impressive...

...If a little concerning all at the same time.

What was doubly concerning was just how quiet Dan Heng got when the two of them were sneaking around. Boothill had kind of been looking forward to picking the Nameless' brain, but any attempt at conversation seemingly went unnoticed. It was like Dan Heng was on another planet as the two wove through the tall, narrow alleys of this backwater planet.

He knows he might regret it, but that night, with the two tucked up in a tiny little motel (recon had been dragging all day so unfortunately calling it a night was a necessity) Boothill figured he'd say something.

"Yer pretty sneaky," the Ranger says, failing to be so himself. "Y' ever notice that?"

Dan Heng just hums politely in acknowledgement, hovering idly by the motel window. He's too busy sneaking peeks through the musty curtains to think of anything appropriate to say in turn. The light shining in from the post outside makes his grey eyes look almost green from this angle.

Boothill, on the other hand, is already getting settled into bed, not bothering to get undressed in any sense. Couldn't feel his feet in his boots anyways, so how could he be uncomfortable resting in them? Sleep was barely a suggestion most nights anyways, so if anything this was just a show for company.

He lays there, watching his companion to see if he'll move or say anything more. The best he gets is a stifled yawn that brings the Nameless' knuckles to his mouth and makes his grey-green eyes flicker.

"You just gonna stand there all night?" Boothill asks. He only gets more settled in, crossing one ankle over the other as his head sinks lower into the admittedly plush pillows beneath him. "Can't imagine yer back is feelin' all that great considerin' all the sneakin' around we've been doin' all day."

Dan Heng turns his head just enough to catch the Galaxy Ranger out of his peripheral. "I was under the assumption I would be taking first watch."

He probably shouldn't be so surprised when Boothill huffs at him, his face cracking into a big -- if lopsided -- smile. "Pssh! You kiddin'? And just who 'zactly are you watchin' for?"

That gets Dan Heng to pull away from the window, although his hand -- the one that's not still holding Cloudpiercer -- lingers on the thin curtain. His brows are furrowed in confusion, but it doesn't make Boothill want to take him any more seriously.

"...I thought the IPC was--"

Another huff cuts the Nameless off. "The IPC don' send their goons to sleep in shirt-holes like this'un. Even they ain't that cruel." Boothill shuffles lower on the mattress, sending the frame into a creaking fit before he gets an angle he likes for his head. He pulls the brim of his hat down over his eyes before continuing. "'Sides, if anybody should be doin' lookout, it should be me, and I honestly can't be forked, so quit starin' at streetlights and come lie down 'fore I gotta explain to yer Momma why you're comin' back to yer train with blind spots."

Honestly that just prompts more questions in Dan Heng, and before he can even think to stop it, one starts to work its way out.

"You aren't scared that--"

"What, that they'll come bustin' in through th' door or th' window or even the muddlefudgin' ceilin'?" Boothill takes his gun from the holster on his hip and uses the shining barrel of it to push his hat back up. Dan Heng can see the crosshairs in his eyes, always primed and ready for a target, should one cross his vision.

The Nameless takes a quiet step closer, making no sound to speak of until he opens his mouth again. "I just want to be careful." He swears he can feel eyes on him right now, coming straight through the curtains from outside. He wasn't even all that scared of the specifics until the Galaxy Ranger rattled them off like trivia, like each scenario is just a silly hypothetical that holds no weight, and that the exile should feel silly for the rush of needle-sharp anxiety running down his spine to the tail he had to hide for his own safety. He would be insulted if the feeling wasn't so over powering in that moment.

The clatter of Boothill's gun landing on the dusty side table snaps Dan Heng back to himself. "Listen, if anybody makes the dumb-asteroid mistake of tryin' to get the drop on us while we're sleepin', then we'll handle it. Ain't nothin' new for me, and if I had to make an educated guess, it ain't nothin' new for you neither."

“How did you—“

"Kinda obvious all things considered--"

"Will you please stop cutting me off?" Dan Heng thumps Cloudpiercer against the floor, firmly but still somewhat gently emphasizing his point. He's being reminded of just how firm he needs to be with Boothill, even if the latter is more in his element.

The Galaxy Ranger grins, his teeth too sharp for his expression to be properly sheepish. It's been a while since he's traveled with somebody who wasn't shaking in their boots the whole time they were together. Then again, it isn't like Dan Heng is a hostage being dragged along as collateral. He's his own man, here of his own volition, despite the fact that something about all this was clearly eating him up.

"Look, I get it." Boothill pushes himself up to sit, letting one leg swing off the side of the mattress while the other bends closer to him. "Yer far from home and yer scared, that's... fine." He presses his thumb to his chest, propping his other hand on his knee as he leans in closer. "Just b'tween you and me, I been dealin' with the IPC for a long fudgin' time and I still get all anxious 'never I see 'em."

He rocks back to sit up straight, swinging his other leg up from off the ground to sit criss-cross on top of the blankets. He doesn't seem to notice any of the dirt he's kicking up onto the blankets as he continues on. "But you take it from me, Mr. Nameless: Just sittin' there feelin' scared ain't gonna keep 'em away from us. We're already lyin' real low, and if they find us tonight, then we can handle it. And if they don't, I think Future Dan Heng will be a lot happier if he spends the night gettin' some sleep instead of starin' out the window lookin' for boogeymen."

He's trying his best to be compassionate, but it's been more than a hot minute since he's tried. Boothill's pretty sure he sounds more threatening than gentle with his voice all low like this, but Dan Heng doesn't shy away. Instead, the Nameless' shoulders loosen, even just a tiny bit, because as much as his nerves hate to admit it, Boothill is right. They've been moving all day, and the lack of new information to chase, plus having to cope with a new environment that's trudged up old habits has been more than a little exhausting. For both of them.

He has his spear. Boothill has his gun. They both know how to fight and take care of themselves should it come down to it. Dan Heng should get some sleep while he can.

The Nameless sighs and some more of the lingering fear leaves him. He turns to prop Cloudpiercer up against the corner between the bed and the window, the edge of the spear's blade slotting nicely into place. It's not exactly in arm's reach, but it's close enough to get up and grab should something happen.

The way he moves so quietly just makes Boothill want to talk more, even if it was probably better to just let the victory lie. Might as well make use of the company while he has it. "And uh... look. I know I ain't exactly the best behaved muddlefudger in the cosmos, but I am a gentleman by some definition of the word. If'n you want me to let you have the bed all t' yerself, I can just--"

"No." It comes out faster than Dan Heng would've liked. He chalks it up to nerves and decides not to dwell on the surprised look on Boothill's face. "I mean... We've both been moving all day. I don't see why I should be able to lie down instead of you."

Another smile, lopsided under Boothill's pinched eyebrows. "Well... Firstly, I ain't even really a sleepin' type anymore. I was just kinda layin' down cause I didn't wanna freak you out or nothin'."

"Still. Even if you can't sleep, rest is... good." It's something that's been drilled into Dan Heng's head since he boarded the Astral Express. Literally everyone on board has said some variation of it to him so many times, that if Dan Heng had a credit for each, he would be able to buy an entirely separate Astral Express to wander around at night all on his own.

Boothill shrugs. "Fair 'nough. Are you sure, though? 'Cuz I can just... sit somewhere else while you lie down."

"You were laying down first." Even when he's being stubborn Dan Heng sounds so forkin' polite.

The Ranger shrugs and lays back against the pillows again, taking up the position he had before with his crossed ankles and his hands resting on his metal stomach. "Fine, then. Come make yerself comfortable, then."

Apparently another thing Boothill lost when he augmented his body was his sense of size. He was taking up almost the entire mattress, save for a little sliver of it on his right side near the wall. Dan Heng might be able to settle into that spot... yes, as long as he's careful...

He kneels on the edge of the bed first, wincing as the frame creaks and his shoes hit the ground. Any sound right now feels ten times louder than it should, undoing the Ranger's assurances faster than Dan Heng can realize.

"Y' alright?" Boothill asks from under the brim of his hat. Was Dan Heng just that obvious?

"Fine," he lies, then moves to settle in on his shoulder. He hates sleeping on his side -- it makes him feel restricted to have all his weight focused on an edge like that -- but he can make do. He's been making do all day. Even if the bed creaking with every micro-adjustment he makes starts to grate on his already frayed nerves.

"Are y' sure yer alright?" The Ranger is more pointed now as he takes his hat fully off and tosses it on top of the lampshade on the bedside table. "All that dadgum creakin's gonna drive me nuts--"

He turns his head to look at Dan Heng and the arrowhead point of his tone rounds off. The Nameless has his eyes shut tight, his hands tucked up against his chest, and his knees pressed together like tectonic plates just a second away from making a mountain. Alright. He was gonna have to get good at being gentle real fast.

"Hey." Boothill nudges him with his shoulder. "Hey, wake up."

"I am awake."

"Alright, then quit... layin' all stiff like that. I told ya 'get comfortable,' didn' I?" He nudges Dan Heng again, trying to coax him into at least opening his eyes. "Y'know-- I can't feel nothin' from the neck down, yer more 'n welcome to settle in like I ain't here."

Dan Heng opens one eye just a little, and Boothill can see a little sliver of teal green beneath his dark lashes. The Ranger could've sworn his eyes were grey last he checked, save for the help of the lights outside.

Now, ain't that pretty...

"You aren't exactly a pillow, Boothill," the Vidyadhara nearly grumbles. He's tired, he's anxious, and he's already feeling his muscles getting stiff.

"Hey now, don't get all sassy on me." He lifts a hand from his stomach to offer it to Dan Heng, taking extra care to be gentle with him. "Believe it 'r not, I've been told I'm actually kinda cozy if you can figure out a place to lay yer head. All the motors n' circuits keep the ol' shell here mighty toasty, too." Boothill holds his hand a little closer. "C'mon. If y'don't like it, I'll just get up and you can have the whole bed to y'rself. I can stand sittin' on the floor if it means you ain't givin' yourself scoliosis tryna fit."

"That's not how--" Dan Heng cuts himself off with a sigh and shuts his eye again. "And you're sure it's alright?"

"Like I said b'fore, Dan Heng. I can't feel nothin' from the neck down, and even if I did, I know how to keep my hands to m'self."

The Nameless slips his hand into the Ranger's and carefully shifts to laying across his companion's torso. Sure enough, Boothill does actually feel kinda warm, and while he doesn't have as much give to his body, the plates that make up his body's casing are smooth, and the poncho he's got wrapped around his shoulders is soft against Dan Heng's cheek.

"There. How's that for ya?"

Dan Heng isn't quite sure what to do with his hands. Wrapping them around Boothill feels much too intimate, and folding them under his own head feels a bit too presumptuous. Luckily, he's still got one hand in Boothill's, and the Ranger takes it upon himself to guide Dan Heng into resting them in the folds of his poncho.

"That'll keep 'em nice and warm through the night," he mutters, flashing Dan Heng a little smile. It looks almost tender despite his fangs.

Dan Heng wonders if his own fangs can be that distracting. "Thank you."

"Mmhm." Now Boothill is the one who's not sure what to do with his hands. Wrapping them around Dan Heng feels much too intimate... He decides to just fold them back behind his head again, cradling the curve of his skull through his long white hair. Yeah. Yeah, that works. "Now get some sleep. We'll give it 'nother try in the mornin'."

The Nameless hums an acknowledgement and lowers his head, resting his cheek against the broad metal of Boothill's chest with just a single fold of poncho to serve as a proper pillow. It's not bad, honestly, and it smells better than Dan Heng was expecting.

One of the joys of not sweating anymore, perhaps...? That just makes his mind wander, though. Boothill mentioned being warm because of motors, but what was it that kept him from overheating? Did he overheat at all? Was there some vent somewhere that Dan Heng just hadn't noticed? He's starting to miss his Data Bank.

And then he hears it. Or, more accurately, he notices it for the first time now that he’s this close. A faint, steady whirring noise, coming from just beneath Dan Heng's ear -- from Boothill's chest? He pulls a hand from the old red poncho and pushes it aside to get a better listen, pressing the side of his head flat against the big, shining pectoral plate that seems to cover whatever that noise is coming from.

Of course, not being any kind of sleeper, let alone a heavy one, Boothill notices Dan Heng's prodding. He lifts his head and moves to free his hands. "Just what in heck're you--?"

"Is that a fan?"

The whirring suddenly gets louder, stronger, as Boothill stammers out, "Y-Yeah, what about it?"

Dan Heng swallows. He can't believe he's about to ask this. "Just, uh... what does it do?"

"What does it do?"

"Mmh."

"Uh..." Boothill has to actually think for a second. He'd been hoping that Dan Heng would just go right to sleep, not ask him about the mechanics of this blasted body of his. It isn't like he kept notes on all the ins and outs. "It does... what fans do. Keeps things cool. Why d'you wanna know?"

Dan Heng pulls a bit of a face, his expression and the one hand he still has in the poncho tightening. "When... When I can't sleep back on the Astral Express, I read articles in the data bank. There's a setting where you can push a button and it'll pull up a random one."

"Uh-huh." It's starting to fall into place. "And these are like bedtime stories t'ya?"

"...Basically." It's embarrassing when he puts it like that, but he's not exactly wrong.

Boothill sighs out of habit, and lets his head fall back against the pillows. "Well... I ain't no mechanic -- I see somebody else f'r that -- but I can tell you 'bout somethin' else."

Dan Heng turns his face the other way. He's looking at the door now, all rickety but hopefully thick enough for no one else to come barging in. "I'd like that."

He mulls it over a second, staring up at the vacant ceiling. He supposes he could rattle off about guns a while, talk about the special blaster that's built into his arm or his pistol. Ah, but all that's boring. Pistols and blasters aren't all that special, really. You point and pull the trigger, and a bullet goes flying out of the chamber and if you're good -- or lucky -- you kill whatever you're aiming at. That won't make it any better for Dan Heng anyways. He needs something calming. Aeons, did he even have any of those anymore...?

"...Y'ever been in a wheat field b'fore?" He hears a rustling, and when he looks down he sees Dan Heng shaking his head. Regardless of if that was a nod or a shake "no," Boothill was going to say the next part anyway. "Where I come from, there used to be miles and miles of wheat fields. Some alfalfa for the livestock, and these darn near picturesque rollin' hills all along the horizon. I tell ya, standin' in the middle of one of those fields 's like watchin' rivers of gold when the wind blew. Ain't nothin' I ever seen since then that's ever made me feel richer."

Dan Heng shuts his eyes, imagining that the fan beneath his ear was the sound of the wind blowing over the fields Boothill's planting in his mind. He can nearly feel the sunshine on his face now, warming him from the outside in. What he would've given to grow up in a place like that...

"'Nd at night, you could just lay right down in it. Like tuckin' yerself up in Mother Nature herself's bed. Didn't need no pillows 'r blankets 'r nothin'. 'Course our cows were so sweet you could just prop yerself up against on of 'em. If you were willin' to risk wakin' up with a cowlick, that is." He chuckles, and softens the sound when he notices how it makes his chest shake even now.

Dan Heng is laying rather still now, his fingers curled gently over Boothill's chest and his face all calm and quiet. There wasn't anything to pinch his eyebrows now, but the Ranger wasn't done just yet.

"You could see th' stars real bright at night, too, shinin' like diamonds all the way out into th' distance." He dares to lay an arm around the Nameless' back, drawing him closer to where his heart used to be. It would give him a better shot at hearing the fan in its place. "I used to make up all sortsa stories about them stars. 'Bout all the shapes I could draw with 'em. I had someone teach me how t'do that."

Dan Heng only curls up closer, his legs dragging up to rest across Boothill's knees. The Ranger's voice is actually gentle now, low and soothing like the distant sound of thunder.

"Never thought I'd actually get to see 'em up close..." His voice fades with the memory. If he thinks about it for much longer... He doesn't want to think about it much longer. Boothill shakes his head just to make sure it's all back in place -- in the attic of his head where he doesn't have to look at it until the next time he decides to go wandering down that heartbroken trail.

He's about to ask if Dan Heng's asleep yet when he... gets a feeling. An actual feeling, around the base of his neck where his old skin meets metal. It nearly knocks the wind out of him until he catches the accompanying sound. There's a deep, rolling sound that's ever so slightly rattling his body, and after some listening the Ranger pinpoints exactly where it's coming from.

It's Dan Heng. He doesn't show it in his face or his hands or in any part of him, but the sound is coming from him. Is he just snoring? It sounds more like purring.

Either way, knowing that it's just Dan Heng allows Boothill another habitual sigh of relief. He's glad to know that the Nameless is all settled, and it actually felt kind of nice to talk about home. It'd been a while.

The Ranger carefully takes his hat back from the lampshade and sets it over his face, giving Dan Heng one last peek from under the brim before settling into the familiar darkness. "Sweet dreams, Dan Heng. Say 'hi' t' home f'r me."

[pearlywritings]

New day - same you

synopsis: morning routine with them and other sweet moments

pairing and characters: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Dan Heng, Gallagher, Gepard Landau, Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, Loucha, Sunday, Veritas Ratio (separately) x reader

tw: established relationship (marriage/dating), fluff, halovian!reader in Sunday's, halovians have back wings here, foxian!reader in Jiaoqiu's (and his part is written before 2.5)

word count: ~4k words

Argenti

With Argenti it almost feels like competition - who's going to be the first to awake and marvel in the morning beauty of their sleeping lover. He, with his flashy but sincere words and loving kisses all over your wrists, and you, with your soft touches and quiet murmurs of the declarations of love.

The fog of the dream is hard to fight through this particular morning - Argenti stayed up way past midnight to fix the “One and Only’s” engine and practically fell into your embrace after the shower, worming his way under your lax arms. His body clock, however, is sending alarms to his brain, pushing him to wake up, stimulating the thought of opening his eyes and having a blessing of witnessing your angelic face.

Which is gone as soon as it appears. You, awake, and still holding your lover in your arms, tug him a bit closer and let his face nestle into the crook of your neck. As a fellow Knight of Beauty there is no hate in your heart for the broken engine that kept Argenti busy tonight, but it doesn't mean you can't dislike it and let him sleep a bit more. It's not like you two are rushing anywhere.

When your tender hand is laid upon his head, lovingly patting and threading fingers through the heavy locks of crimson hair, the knight feels bliss. His mind is sedated and willingly enters the gates of another dream, just as sweet as your presence.

This morning you may not have your share of compliments, breaking the little ritual, but it's more than alright. After all, the beauty of the proper rest is a nice alternative.

Aventurine

No matter what day it is - Aventurine is always the first one to wake up. An occupational hazard, if you could name working for the IPC this way. However, the one of the Stonehearts despises leaving the bed without you, and even more despises waking you up before your alarm clock goes off.

Aventurine is a busy man, who is used to starting his days with calls and messages, managing to have at least three little ‘meetings’ throughout his morning routine. And he can’t have you waking up from his voice taking a sharper edge in the conversation with one of the partners. So you reached a compromise - you sleep with earplugs and he gets to hold you in the morning while on the phone, waking you up with some nudges and kisses once the time comes.

He loves to see your sleepy but absolutely lovesick eyes after he pulls you out of the dream and lets you rest onto his chest with his arm around your body a bit longer, until this exact call is over.

Then you’d take your sweet time in the bathroom and then, as you are cooking breakfast and he is on the phone again, the man would cling to your back with his chin on your shoulder and one arm wrapped around your waist. Then he’d keep talking with you on his lap, keep talking with his hands busy with the dishes, keep talking as you pack his and your lunches. He’d be having the fourth or the fifth call by the time you are all dressed up and smoothing some invisible creases on his clothes, but he’ll always put the caller on hold to get his ‘good morning’ with a kiss and ‘have a wonderful day’ with another kiss.

But don’t be fooled - he does all that only because you explicitly expressed that you don’t mind. Just one word of yours - and he’ll swiftly finish the call, turning off his phone and giving you so much attention that by the time you both leave for work, you're gonna be affectionately sick of him.

Blade

It’s ten more minutes, the swordsman reminds himself after a quick glance at the wall clock and back to your sleeping figure. Nowadays, the Stellaron Hunter doesn’t deny you the request of staying in bed with you even if he can’t sleep normally and stays awake many hours through the night. After some nagging from you he even stopped getting in bed with his clothes on, opting for the sleeping pants and shirts you’ve bought for him to match most of yours.

Blade is leaning back on the headboard with a pillow squeezed in between as one hand, wrapped in bandages, resting on his thigh, while the other is carefully caressing the side of your head. It’s hard to believe that someone is able to snooze so peacefully next to a man like him, let alone, pressing their face into his thigh with arms wrapped around his leg.

And ‘peace’ is what Blade cherishes the most during the mornings spent with you. He makes you feel safe. You make him feel relaxed. His body next to yours is the fruit of your successful worming into his heart, your body next to his is his sanctuary. The man’s mind is at ease and he more often than not falls into the light slumber, dreamless, yet lacking nightmares too.

You crinkle your nose under the more prominent touch of his fingers across your face, and Blade stiffens. It’s still three minutes more, he doesn’t want to wake you up earlier than that. Yet at the same time, something inside him is burning with the strongest yearning of seeing your eyelids sliding up and the prettiest drowsy eyes looking up at him with so much adoration, that his heart starts bleeding like pierced.

The Stellaron Hunter looks at the clock again. One more minute. Maybe tomorrow morning he’ll let you both sleep in. Maybe it’s because you are not in any of the upcoming scripts. Or maybe it’s because he’d like to try cuddling once more.

Boothill

When in his travels, the cyborg doesn't sleep in the usual sense of this word. The correct way to describe it would be ‘recharge’, hiding somewhere in the secure corner, not even lying down, just sitting comfortably enough and letting his systems cool off and eyes plus brain rest.

When he is back home to you however… He literally starts whining and complaining if you take too long to join him in your shared bed.

Boothill always asks you to sleep in panties/shorts only. Not because he is a pervert (though he indeed can touch or lick or suck a time or two), but because in his absence he missed the heat and softness of your skin so much, that he immediately takes the little spoon position, burying his face into your chest and keening on the feeling of your fingers scratching his scalp and playing with his hair.

He loves falling asleep to the tender thumping in your chest, and even more so he loves waking up to the very same sound. It reminds him that he isn't alone in this world, that even with all the losses he experienced he still has someone to adore and treasure. He always hugs your waist a little tighter upon awakening and presses a long kiss to the valley in the middle of your chest, closing his eyes and focusing on the deep breaths you release. It feels like heaven. It is home.

Plus, he loves your confident morning behavior, when you don't bother putting on a shirt after getting out of the bed and walking around the house still mostly bare, playfully swatting his hands away when he reaches to you with grabby motions. Well, given he sometimes walks around completely naked, he has nothing to accuse you of.

Dan Heng

Dan Heng isn’t particularly fond of you sleeping in his room. Not because he guards its contents akin to a dragon that fusses over its treasures or because he doesn’t want your body pressed close to his, no. Simply because his ‘bed’ is hard. And, admittedly, the mattress is not big enough to fit two people comfortably.

But you, oh you, are always so sweet about it and reassure him that you love the close proximity it brings, and that you are ready to deal with the slight body ache in the morning, understanding that Dan Heng himself is more at ease while staying in his own ‘den’ (he is working on it).

Mornings usually start with you on top of him - even in his unconscious state the man still worries about you, so he’d rather have you use him as a pillow (and, as you once teased him, he’d use you as a weighted blanket). Next, you’ll be swift to leave his side, throwing his coat on and quietly tiptoeing to the kitchen.

Usually, by the time you return, your boyfriend is already awake, but still staying under the blanket, waiting for you. He gratefully accepts a steaming mug with a calming herbal tea and you peck his cheek, flopping next to him with your own mug in a hand. You are sitting quietly, shoulders touching and knees bumping, while you are sipping on your drinks and chasing away the remnants of sleep.

Dan Heng smiles when you wiggle your feet under the blanket and put your head onto his shoulder, and as he turns his head to kiss the top of yours, securing a tender end to your special morning ritual, the man thinks he is indeed healing. And that’s what he cherishes about mornings with you most.

Gallagher

Gallagher takes extra long showers in the evenings after his shifts, because he doesn’t want to bring the smell of alcohol, cigarettes and anything else of the bar’s patrons to your bed. He doesn’t want you to grimace first thing in the morning and push him away, complaining about the stink. He’d much rather have your body tightly pressed against his, maybe face squished into his chest, arm thrown over his waist and legs stuck between his.

Gallagher loves just lazing in bed with you, as you are both awake. Loves rubbing his cheek against yours and hearing you reprimand him lightheartedly for the stubble. And yet, you never move away, welcoming his big palm resting on your hip, fingers lightly digging into fat and dragging you even closer to him.

Today you, however, throw a leg over his body and swiftly climb on top, immediately settling onto his chest like many times before. It’s because you know he has a night shift and you don’t plan to let him go until at least lunch. And your lover is strong, he can throw you off using just one arm or by simply turning his body under yours, but he does none of this, all because he absolutely adores your little sparks of possessiveness.

His heavy hand lowers onto your head, gently ruffling your hair, to which you grumble, poking his side with a single finger, only to scratch him lightly with all five a second later. Oh how deliciously he shivers and even a following pinch to your ass is unable to wipe a pleased smile off your face.

He’ll tell you stupid stories from the night before at the bar, share the worst jokes his patrons slurred and admit the teasing Sioban put him through once again, because ‘the old dog was glancing at the clock, counting the minutes till running home to you’. And you’ll be laughing. And he’ll be laughing too.

Gepard Landau

The Captain of the Silverman Guards is obviously the man of schedule. He wakes up at the same time, he wraps up his morning routine in the same period of time, and he leaves the house at the same time.

Every morning the man is trying his hardest to get out of the bed as sneakily as he can, because otherwise there are chances of waking you up and his heart cries when you follow him around wrapped in the blanket while whining that it’s so cold to be out of the bed and his warmest embrace (yes, you’re sometimes faking it, but come on, your golden retriever of a boyfriend is warm and comfy to cuddle with).

Can never deny you, when you squeeze yourself past him in the hot shower, explaining that yes, you are cold, and yes, it’s saving water (obviously not to admire your handsome lover and steal a couple of morning kisses from him).

You are still sleepy as the water is gushing on your body, which is held in place by two strong hands on your hips. Gepard can’t take his eyes from your cute droopy expression and smiles softly when you lift your head to let the water splash against your face. He doesn’t like it when you sacrifice your sleep in the mornings, but he can’t lie to himself that he loves spending these moments with you either. He gently brushes your wet locks away from your cheeks and forehead, leaning down to plant a small peck on your chin.

A cheerful ‘hooray’ is coming out in bubbles due to the water getting into your mouth, but you don’t care, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face into his chest instead. Oh Qlipoth, let this poor man be not that obvious with the raging blush from the new mark blooming under his uniform while leaving the house

Jiaoqiu

Waking up with the rays of rising sun to throw on an embroidered robe and get to the kitchen to cook another delicious breakfast for you and him is indeed a pleasurable and relaxing part of the healer’s morning. However, much more than that he enjoys wondering in his head who’s going to wake up hugging whose tail the evening before, just to arise the next morning and see if his guess is right.

Opening his fanged mouth in a big yawn and squeezing still shut honey golden eyes even more, Jiaoqiu starts his day with a nice full body stretch. Something soft gets into his mouth and immediately jerks, provoking an abrupt puff of air released from the male’s lungs. There is a dissatisfied mumble somewhere close to his collarbones, and when heavy eyelids slide open, the foxian catches just the swift motion of your ears pressing back against your head.

He can't help but smile softly, leaning down and kissing the top of it (his own pink ear slightly twitching as you quietly murmur in delight), then moving back and looking down to assess your sleeping positions.

Face to face and legs tangled together, your bodies lay closely to each other. With your nose buried into his neck and arms wrapped around his frame, Jiaoqiu, to his greatest disappointment, notices both your tails peacefully resting on the mattress behind your backs.

What a pity… Now it means you won't be helping him comb through his fur to make it look presentable and he won't be doing the same to you… Unless…

As the clawed hand carefully reaches behind you with a clear intention to mess up your tail and sly eyes crinkle in mischief, Jiaoqiu is truly ready to start his morning routine even to the extent of your complaints.

Jing Yuan 

Jing Yuan is a true connoisseur of soft things. He has the fluffiest carpets back at home, silkiest fabrics for clothes, his bed is like one big white cloud, and his pet is a lion with a huge mane. Not to mention his beloved, who has the softest thighs to nap onto in the whole universe (he has never compared to others, but he is a firm believer).

The General has been having trouble waking up in the morning for a while now. Alarm clock? Ignored. Mimi’s nudges and complaining groans? Ignored too. Your loving voice and tender kisses all over his face? Careful, he is the Dozing General, not the Weak one - you are very much at risk every time to be dragged back in bed in your husband's embrace.

And that little fight you put up every morning to get him from under the blanket and send him off to the bathroom is his favorite part. Just like today.

If anyone was to walk into your bedroom, they'd see a strange image of your strained form being hunched and jerking backwards, trying to rip your arm from an iron grasp, and just a single hand visible in the mess of pillows and blankets, holding onto your wrist and trying to pull you back onto the bed.

You swear, the man hasn't even opened his eyes, relying solely on his other sharp senses to effortlessly catch you when you tried to flee after kissing him good morning.

It's pointless to remind him of the meeting today - he'll get there in time either way, but you still try to hold your ground and win this fight of stubbornness.

Jing Yuan laughs, when with a loud gasp you fall onto his swiftly sitting up figure and are immediately thrown back onto the bed with his sturdy body pinning yours underneath. He loves the heat of your face he feels when his cheek is pressed to yours. He adores when you wiggle under him, refusing to admit that this display of his strength didn't leave you hot and bothered. And he is absolutely smitten when eventually you let out a long exasperated sigh and wrap your arms around his shoulders, admitting your defeat, agreeing to sleep for a little bit more.

Loucha

The merchant is too used to the feeling of loneliness in his travels. Getting out of a hardly couple-of-days-familiar bed, grabbing a pin from a nightstand table to fix a quick messy bun and, swiftly stopping by the bathroom to freshen up his sleepy face, the man drags his feet to the kitchen.

Oil is sizzling in a pan, as the man throws the cut vegetables in it, grabbing a spatula. He is barefoot, still in his sleep wear and long locks of golden hair hanging in messy waves to his shoulder length. It’s the sight that is hard to resist, and as much as you’d love to keep watching your lover, so uncharacteristically unkept and cozy, the need to get closer to him gets too strong. As your arms encircle his waist and lips press to wherever you can reach, Loucha doesn’t fight a soft smile. Yes, on some of his trades he’s on his own, but your presence is such a sedative to his soul and mind.

You ask him what he is cooking and he answers, letting you duck your head under his arm, so you could see for yourself, and then offers you to choose something extra if you so desire. Giving him your response, you immediately suggest helping, but he declines, carefully prying one of your hands from his stomach and lifting it to his lips, murmuring how he doesn’t want your pretty fingers to get all tired and dirty in the very morning.

But you are a little stubborn, so when he lets you go, you stay behind his back and reach for a simple jade pin, heroically holding the whole mass of his hair, and take it out, letting the heavy waves cascade down his back. The fingers he’s just been so worried about, bury into the locks, brushing out the knots, dividing in parts and then twisting them one around another, collecting his hair into a nice, but simple braid.

The merchant is used to spending his mornings alone. But admittedly he loves you being by his side and your adorable little gestures much more.

Sunday

It is a well-known fact that the halovian has OCD and his prior commitment to the Order only proves it more strongly. Admittedly, ever since he’s been released from Gopher Wood’s clutches and left Penacony, he’s been getting better: less paranoid, less twitchy, more forgiving to not only ones around him, but himself. He’s been working on abandoning some of his habits, going as far as styling his clothes in a kind of mismatched yet still smart manner. And still he’s having a hard time not to fuss over his appearance.

While sleeping, Sunday is restless. Having been sharing a bed with him for a long time, you’ve been a witness to all - thrashing from side to side, kicking off and then dragging back the blanket, both head and back wings flapping in sleep, messing equally his feathers and hair (sometimes yours too).

But you are understanding. You are gentle, when you offer the miserably looking man your hands and tug him out of the bed, walking him to the huge mirror and asking him to sit down in front of it. Your hands are soft and careful, as they are grooming his wings, rearranging the feathers correctly, removing broken ones, fluffing up the beautiful plumage that reminds of the night sky.

And sometimes, Sunday wants to cry. It’s so intimate, it’s so sweet, it’s something he was used to doing on his own, but here you are - doing it for him, cooing lovingly and pressing tender kisses to the smaller wings protruding from the back of his head, making them tremble slightly and the milky skin of his cheeks - flash with crimson.

And you trust him to do the same for you! His hands are shaking, his breath is hitching while you keep encouraging him to clean up your wings after sleep, being nothing but patient as the morning sun arises.

The ex-head of the Oak Family used to say that patience is a virtue, but in the dawn glow of your bedroom it turns into his paradise.

Veritas Ratio

No matter what your sleep schedule is, Veritas is always the first one to wake up. Sitting up he reaches for his nightstand drawer, tapping the phone’s screen to stop the alarm clock’s ringing. His other hand automatically reaches for the black-furred critter, nestled onto his lap, to gently pat its soft ‘shell’, receiving a quiet content chirp. Once done with the phone, the man turns to the other side of the bed, reddish-pink eyes lowering to your still sleeping form, with another critter snoozing under your arm. One more is spotted at the end of the bed.

Every single morning Veritas witnesses the same view - well, maybe your sleeping pose is different, or the placement of your ‘cats’ on the bed, or how much of the blanket you've either stolen from him or on the contrary thrown at him… still it's always you, him and your recently adopted pets.

And every single morning your lover can't help but take some minutes from his work out session and dedicate them to simply sitting in bed next to you, observing, doing his own little research. Today he notes how you've moved slightly onto his part of the bed, head occupying both yours and a small part of his pillow. Then his gaze moves downwards, noticing the covers being pulled down your waist and feet peeking from under the blanket. That's so you - feeling stuffy and hot yet still moving closer to his body.

Carefully, not to disturb you and give a couple of more minutes to rest, Veritas bends down and kisses your cheek, testing another hypothesis of his - would you smile in your sleep, upon feeling the touch of his lips on your skin?

He is surprised, when you open your eyes, staring back at him in a haze. Sensing your awakening, the orange critter practically zooms from under your arm, then onto the man’s pillow and off the bed, disappearing somewhere in the hallway. But he hardly pays attention to it. No, his eyes are glued to yours and that sweet smile that tugs on the corners of your mouth as you reach forward to circle his neck with your arms.

Yes, his thinks contented, closing his eyes, another hypothesis of his has been proven right.

[aventoru]

“mydei,” you peer down at your boyfriend laying face down on your lap, “you need to get up.”

“mmm, just a little longer,” he groans (practically purrs) when he feels you brush through his hair once more. you had indulged him in a little relaxation after a tiring morning. after yet another attack from nikador, the chrysos heirs had been busy with damage control. luckily, the damage was kept to a minimum, leaving mydei with time to rest before having to attend a meeting.

“don’t you have a mission to complete with phainon in 10 minutes?” you nag, but your stubborn boyfriend refuses to budge from the comfort of your thighs. you push him, hoping to get some kind of reaction only for him to roll over, showing off that smug smirk on his lips.

at times like these you can’t help but view him as a cat : somewhat aggressive and distant in public, yet soft and clingy as soon as you two got home. you lightly tap his nose, to which he scrunches cutely in response.

“babe, you have things to do,” you try to pry his eyes open only for him to swat your hands away. yeah, definitely a cat. “it can wait, i’m getting comfortable…and sleepy,” he trails off, obviously drowsy from the warmth of your lap. “no, no, wait,” you hastily shake him awake.

“how about a deal?” you ask.

“what deal?” he cracks one eye open.

“if you go to work now, i’ll reward you later,” you lean down to whisper in his ears, “with lots of kisses.”

“hah, that’s not gonna work. i’m a warrior, i don’t need that lovey-dovey crap,” he said haughtily.

“really?” you inquire, placing a kiss on his cheek. then his nose. and forehead. and hair. and then you hovered dangerously close to his plump pink lips before swerving to the side and kissing the corners instead. and then you stopped, completely.

“hey why’d you stop?” he complains.

“thought you didn’t need those kisses.”

a faint blush forms in his cheeks before he clears his throat, “you’re right, i don’t. well then, i’m going to work now.”

mydei practically pounces on you, demanding those kisses as compensation for a tiring day right as soon as he got home that night. you can only laugh and kiss him to his (and your) heart’s content.

but you can’t say you’re surprised.

lions are a kind of cat, after all.

masterlist

[myderis]

one less, a hundred more ꒱ mydei 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.2k

Sweat glistens on MYDEI’s exposed chest as he lowers himself down, muscles taut and rippling with every movement. You lie beneath him, grinning as you count each push-up, more specifically, each kiss he steals between reps.

“Twenty-six,” you murmur as his lips brush against yours again, rough but warm, carrying that rare gentleness he only shows to you. He chuckles, his breath fanning over your skin. “Counting kisses instead of push-ups? I see where your priorities are.”

You smirk, your fingers gently tracing the red markings across his body. “Can you blame me?”

Mydei dips down again, this time his lips press firmly against yours before he lifts himself back up, “Twenty-seven,” you whisper, the number barely leaving your mouth before he’s back for more.

The count continues, and every now and then, he pauses just enough to let you feel the warmth of his body, the weight of his devotion, and the love in his eyes before resuming.

“Fifty… fifty-one…”

By the time you reach ninety-nine, you sigh, and he doesn't like the look in your eyes. “Hmm… seems like we’re one short of a hundred.”

Mydei’s brows knit together, his warrior’s pride surfacing, not wanting to be damaged. “One short?”

You tilt your head innocently. “You know the rules, my love~ If it’s not a full set, you start over.”

He freezes for a second before he realizes what your plan has been all along. “You—” He can't be angry at you, but with a roll of his eyes, he lowers himself again, this time slower, knowing exactly what to do at times like this when you teased him. “If that’s how you want to play it… Then I better make sure you count properly this time.”

His lips capture yours once more, lingering just a little bit longer. “One,” you whisper, grinning against him as he smirks, and so, he starts again.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[pearlymel]

That boy is mine.

୨୧ Summery: hsr men and their love languages.

୨୧ Including: Aventurine, Jing Yuan, Sunday, Veritas Ratio, Argenti.

୨୧ Warnings: none. Gn! Reader, All fluff, just the hsr men spoiling you like how you should be spoilt.

♡︎ Aventurine— receiving gifts.

“Err, Aventurine? This is the fifth diamond bracelet this month.”

“Today is a special day.”

“You say that everyday…” you whisper to yourself in amusement while your fingers brush over the expensive material sealed around your wrist. You try not to sound disappointed because—you’re not really disappointed but rather confused or guilty for him spending so recklessly with you.

Upon seeing the guilt he knew so well etched on your face, he quickly steps closer, “It looks pretty on you, which is all the reason i need.” He teases, his hand snaking towards your lower back. “You didn’t complain about the shoes and necklace I bought you,” he shrugs with a grin plastered on his face and you shake your head in return.

“I appreciate everything you do to me, i just dislike it when a lot of money is wasted.” You gently scold him but he brushes it off with a laugh. 

“Darling, you need to stop thinking like this. Money was meant to be spent.” He playfully flickers your forehead, before gently caressing the spot with his thumb.

“How can i ever spoil you back, hmm?” He grins at your question, his thumb that was caressing your forehead moves to your chin. Holding it with a firm, yet gentle grip. “I told you, silly,” he murmurs, leaning forward to bring his face closer to yours. “All you have to do is be cute, and give me a kiss every once in a while.”

“… is that it?” Your figure almost slumps at his too simple requests. From now on, you’d try harder to shower him with all the kisses and affection.

“That’s all it takes. Your cute little reactions and your pretty face are more than enough to spoil such a simple man, like me.” He says, his hand slipping down to your waist, pulling you closer. You take ahold of his face with your hands, pulling his face to give his lips some attention, his hand tightening around your waist “will this suffice?”

“I’m a bit greedy, one more.” He whispers, and you press your lips against his again for another chaste kiss. “Again,” he says in a bit more demanding tone this time, taking over the lead and kissing you even deeper, trailing his lips along your jawline then a final kiss just below your earlobe. Your whole face burning just from simple kisses.

“I will get you anything you want, everything you desire,” he whispers against your neck, “A yacht, a penthouse, jewels, whatever you want. My only condition is you stay with me, and make those cute little noises when i spoil you.”

“Cute little noises?” You squint your eyes at him, pulling back to see him, “you mean.. my surprised expressions?”

“Exactly like that. The soft gasps, wide eyes, and adorable smile.” You grins while taking you in a crushing embrace and you only laugh back at him.

♡︎ Jing Yuan— physical touch.

You suddenly can’t breath when the general came home particularly clingy today. Big arms preventing you from escaping his hold with his lips not leaving any spot untouched on your face.

“Missed you today,” he would whisper in his thick raspy voice, hands roaming around your body with strands of his hair almost covering your face, “my pretty spouse.” His voice is muffled from his face buried in your neck.

“You’re the clingiest man i know.”

His suddenly stopped for a moment, expression darkening slightly, “you know other men?”

“Ohh, the most jealous one too.” You chuckle when he shoots you a pout, sometimes you could imagine him looking like a big sad lion.

“Not that I’m complaining.” You press a tender kiss to his forehead, and just like that, his shoulders relax and his golden eyes seem to shine just a bit brighter. “Was work harsh on you today?”

Jing Yuan let out a drawn-out sigh, "Exhausting is more like it," he replied with a tired smile. "Still need to train Yanqing later tonight per his request,"

His expression softened as he looked down to meet your gaze.

"I've been looking forward to this time with you all week." He hums, resting his head on your chest and your hand immediately finds its place on his hair. Jing Yuan smiles as he feels your delicate fingers take out the red ribbon from his long, white hair, letting it cascade down to his shoulders.

"I should call in sick tomorrow," he grins when he hears you quietly chuckle, beginning to lean on you as your fingers worked through his hair. 

“Is this the general of the luofu?” You decide to tease him a bit, his rough hands squeezing your thighs in return. “No, this is just your spouse now. All putty for you."

♡︎ Veritas Ratio— Quality time.

Ratio was sprawled on his stomach, a large book held in his hands. He was so engrossed in the content that he didn't even hear you enter the room until you jumped onto the bed.

“What are you doing?” You simply ask as you make space for yourself next to him, He turned his head to glance at you for a second before returning his attention to the page.

"Reading a book on advanced mathematics," he replied, his voice sounding a bit distracted. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

“Oh the boring stuff.”

"Boring? Excuse you. This stuff happens to be quite fascinating. Not everyone can appreciate the complexity and beauty of mathematical theory, you know."

Your brain goes short circuit at his explanation, and you shake your head instead. "You can read your amazing stuff to yourself while i... Maybe brush your hair?"

Ratio couldn't help but scoff at your suggestion. "Brush my hair, really? What, do you think I'm a doll or something?"

But secretly, the idea of you running your fingers through his hair had a certain appeal to him. He shrugged nonchalantly, feigning indifference.

"Fine, go ahead. Do with my hair whatever makes you happy, I suppose."

"Yay," you immediately grab the brush from your drawer and gesture him to lean back against your chest, and he immediately obliged. Melting back against your chest while holding his book to his lap. “I love you,” you then whisper and he only hums in return.

You huff at his silence, "I thought you were going to say something like 'oh i love you to the moon and back!' or 'i actually don't love you'." You say in a mocking tone.

Ratio chuckled again, shaking his head in mock annoyance. "Oh, so you're expecting some sappy, romantic cliché, are you? Sorry to disappoint you, darling."

He reached up and gently poked your forehead with his index finger. "I don't think I could actually say something like that with a straight face. I have standards, you know."

Then you tug his hair gently with the brush, showing your annoyance, making him gasp. "Hey, careful with the hair," he protested half-heartedly, feigning irritation. "Do you want me to go bald before I'm thirty?"

"At least you look pretty now." You hand him a mirror to show him the creation you've made on his hair. Tiny braids. 

“Aeons, what have you done to my hair?”

"I made an artwork, thank you very much."

He took another look at his reflection in the mirror, tilting his head to examine the braids in his hair from different angles.

“Artwork, you say?” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Looks more like a bird’s nest, if you ask me.”

You blink twice at his words, "Wait, what if birds actually lay their eggs on your hair?" His smirk vanished, replaced by a look of mock horror. "Oh gods, please don't give them ideas," he said, you both quickly start unbraiding his hair.

♡ Sunday— Acts of service.

“Is this better, love?” Sunday asks softly when he took off his coat to drape it around your shoulders instead, and you nod your head. He wouldn’t want his beloved to catch a cold now. 

Both of you decided to go on a walk in penacony as a date, just to enjoy each other’s presence for the night.

He wraps a protective hand around your waist, moving to walk on the side of the street while you were safely walking on the sidewalk.

“I wouldn’t ask for anything more.” You smile brightly under the light poles. "I’m relieved to hear that, darling." Sunday replied with a pleasant hum, giving your hips a gentle squeeze as you leaned into him for warmth. He smiled at your laugh, finding your happiness to be such a joyous sight. you had always been such an angelic being in his eyes; just the sight of your smiling and laughing was enough for his heart to flutter madly in his chest.

"careful, dont trip. watch your step."

You step to the side just in time to avoid tripping over a few rocks, giving him the sweetest smile, "Always caring for me, my love."

Sunday felt his cheeks flush ever so faintly at your smile. The soft feathers of his wings grazing his cheeks in a failed attempt to hide the redness. Your sweet personality and mannerisms tugging at the strings of his heart in an almost dizzying manner. 

"i cant possibly let my angel hurt themself on our date, now can i?"

It was your turn for your cheeks to flush at his words. Your tried turning around to avoid him seeing your face when your hand landed upon a bush of flowers.

You carefully pluck the crimson one before handing it to him, "for you,”

He took the flower from your hand and twirled it between his fingers, admiring the pretty, crimson hue. he tucked it behind his ear, the red complimenting his hair nicely.

he chuckled in amusement. “it's beautiful. how did you know red is my favourite colour?"

"Is it? Last time i gave you a blue shirt and you said it was your favourite colour." You laugh, plucking another flower to tuck it right at the fluttering wings next to his ears. 

“Hmm, everything you give me is my favorite. That’s only fair.” For some reason the way Sunday talks, makes you believe for sure that you’re definitely safe with him.

♡ Argenti— words of affirmation.

“I cannot get enough of you.” he murmured against your hair. It’s quieter than usual now with his presence, which is something you don’t hate either.

"You flatter me with your words, darling." You whisper, feeling protected around his arms, with your head resting on his chest where you could listen to his heart beat rather quicker than usual.

"And you flatter me with your presence, my love," Argenti replied, his voice a deep and velvety rumble. His hand rose to gently brush a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch lingering on your cheek for a moment too long.

The steady rhythm of his heart seemed to pick up its pace as it thumped against his chest, a subtle giveaway of his growing excitement. "You make my heart beat faster than it should," he confessed, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“Your words always manages to make me fall head over heels for you.” You say dreamily, taking a few on his red end strands of hair to twirl with. He laughed softly, shifting his position so he could look down at you. He gently tilted your chin up, his thumb gently grazing your jawline.

"Where do I even begin? Your beauty is without equal, a sight so captivating it robs me of my breath every time I lay my eyes upon you," he whispered, his voice soft yet filled with affection. "Your intelligence is like a rare gem, sharper than the finest sword and just as precious. Every moment spent with you is a treasure, my love."

You shift in your place a bit to take a good look at his face, and you only see gentleness and sincerity behind it.

“I lied, my skin might burn from all this sweetness.” You admit, pressing your chin against his shoulder.

Argenti laughed again, and you might think it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. He gently wrapped his arms around yours, "Seeing the effect I have on you is a sight more beautiful than any sunrise," he purred, voice dripping like honey, his hand now moving to glide down your neck, fingers tracing patterns on your nape.

"I will never tire of making your skin burn, my love. Each blush and shiver you give me only adds fuel to my desire for you." His thumb traced circles on your nape, and you could just sleep right here.

“I never thought I would be this… desire-able?” You mumble, the hint of insecurity showing, making him sigh.

"Nonsense,” he tightens his arms around you, “The way you move, the sound of your voice, the way you look at me... it drives me to the brink of madness. I find myself craving you at all hours of the day, constantly longing for your touch, your presence alone is enough to make me weak in my knees." 

You frown at his words, relaxing right here, in the arms of your lover, “you’re too precious.”

“Likewise, darling.”

[yyuangss]

GIRL TALK ! ( STAR RAIL MEN )

SUMMARY ! march 7th finds out you like someone. and as your best friend, it’s only right that she has to give her input on whether or not she approves of him.

NOTES ! i was in the mood to write something but this was last minute and this was all i could come up with 🤺 may do a part two featuring other star rail men but we will see. part two of girl talk (gepard, dr. ratio, aventurine, and boothill)

TAGS ! reader is not the trailblazer. contains dan heng, caelus, sampo koski, jing yuan, and argenti. feelings are mutual on both ends.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . DAN HENG !

immediately tells you that she already had her suspicions. and now that you confirmed it, it makes her all that more excited. you having a crush on dan heng is just what she expected. she’ll go on and on about how you two would make a great couple because he opens up more to you. now she gets a little sneaky and begins to make up excuses whenever missions come around so that the two of you can go together. it’s her own way of being a mastermind. the more time you two spend together, the closer she is to seeing you and dan heng start dating. yes, march has dubbed herself as your personal wingwoman. so is the duty of being your best friend.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . CAELUS !

of course she finds it cute that you have a crush on caelus. and it all makes sense to her now. she constantly hears you and caelus making the same kind of jokes, watches you two play games together on your phones, and on rare occasions, she’ll find you rummaging through trash cans with caelus. though she doesn’t know why you’d go to such lengths and go through the trash cans with him. admitting your feelings for the newest trailblazer will only make march relentlessly tease you about it in the best way possible. so whenever caelus invites you to join him in whatever shenanigan he has planned for the day, she’ll send a quick wink your way.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . SAMPO KOSKI !

she’s mentally judging you. definitely finds this as a “to each their own” type of situation. out of everyone you guys have met, the one you have feelings for is sampo. march isn’t too fond of him despite how much he has helped them during their time in belobog. she does have a few doubts here and there, but if he’s currently the one who you’re interested in, she’ll go along with it. march has to observe the way he acts before making any big decisions like setting you two up. she can tell the feeling’s mutual by the overly flirtatious comments sent your way or gifts you receive by sampo when visiting belobog again. she’ll sometimes peek over your shoulder and see some messages coming in from him, asking when you’ll come back to see him. she could grow used to him so let her work her magic and you’ll be with him in no time.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . JING YUAN !

the general of the luofu is a tough decision. although she believes he’s a great choice considering his high rank and popularity, it’s also a bit of a downfall. she saw some heavy chemistry between you both back when the express was currently at the luofu. she didn’t have enough time to make some comments but she knew you’d end up having some sort of feelings towards him. she’s only worried about the cons that could come. like the fact jing yuan can become a busy man within seconds. would he make enough time for you? no, he needs to because someone like you deserves it. march refuses to let her best friend settle for anything less than what she’s worth. march can trust that you’ll be in good hands with jing yuan.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . ARGENTI !

it’s a very interesting choice in her opinion. though she understands why you’d end up gaining feelings towards him. it had to be that compliment he gave you the very first time the express met him. “a beauty that was sent by the goddess idrila herself for him to praise”. very poetical that it had the entire crew speechless for a few seconds. march hasn’t stopped bringing it up since that happened because you had never gotten that flustered before. she can only imagine all the other compliments argenti has sent your way when they’re not around. whenever you’re smiling at your phone a little too hard, thinking no one is watching, she’ll head over your way asking if your boyfriend’s the one making you all smiley. march doesn’t even need to be your wingwoman for this one. she knows the knight will handle it all on his own.

[moonsaver]

Sunday who wakes you up by fluttering his wings on your face, chuckling softly when you scrunch up your nose because it tickles.

Sunday who takes photos of you while you sleep, and shows them to you proudly. You can comment all you want about the drool and the hair wildly splayed on your face, but Sunday finds it endearing. He has a specific album comprising of your photos.

Sunday who leaves behind little notes with neat handwriting on surfaces for you to find as you get through your routine. He's not happy that he has to leave so much more earlier in the morning, so to make up for it he pens down little neat notes for you to keep. He's delightfully surprised when you tell him you have them in your drawer, stored safely.

Sunday who, when he sees you in public, has to hold back from kissing your forehead, from lovingly fixing your hair and clearing loose stands of hair from your face. He stays satisfied with handholding, at least.

Sunday, who when finally back in your arms, relaxes into you, burying his face at the junction of your neck. At your insistence, he's become more comfortable being the little spoon, and you won't admit how much you enjoy the extent of his clinginess he's trying to hold back.

Sunday, who, on the rare occasion gets to see you get ready, watches you mesmerized through your reflection in the mirror as you get ready, immediately at your beck and call when you ask for help, lovingly reaching down at you, eyes still fixed onto you as you continue.

Sunday, who comforts you after a particularly long or tiring day. He doesn't say anything unless you're starting a conversation. He rubs your shoulder, your face half buried in his. His wings gently lay on your eyes to soothe you. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, gently tucking you into bed.

Sunday, who loves hearing the sound of your laughter in the kitchen early morning – tired from sleep but excited to talk to him. He looks at you curiously when you hug him from behind, a sweet laugh leaving him at your little antics.

[jingyuans-precious]

“s not enough..” he mumbles into your shoulder before trailing his lips down to your collarbones that were littered with his love bites, the ultimate proof of his love, he claims.

“you’re so good to me, my love” he says while moving up to place gentle kisses on your neck. “maybe too good.” your lover lets out a soft sigh as he rests his head in the crook of your neck.

“no i’m not” you chuckle at his adorable show of affection.

“yes you are” your lover says as he grabs your hand gently and intertwines your fingers with his, a sign that your lover will always want to hold onto you and never let go. even if he supposedly thinks you’re too good for him.

“no~” you giggle as you squeezed your intertwined hands gently.

“yes” he huffs softly and nuzzles your neck gently, your lover truly looked so adorable this way, as if to win you over with affection and have you admit that you are in fact, so damn good for him.

“fine” you finally say as you give in to your lover’s endearing antics.

— Aventurine, Ayato, CHILDE, JING YUAN, Kaeya, Marius von Hagen, Rafayel, Wriothesley + your faves ♡

a/n: decided to add lnds and tot!

[n0tamused]

Contents: Mydei x gn reader, fluff, mydei loves u, an idea on this topic has been stuck on my mind for a few days now, I needed to ramble about it, I love this guy lots, can you tell

Words: 564

Ko-fi - Masterlist

There is no word for love in the kremnoan language. 

Kremnoans hardly display their affections through words, and Mydei finds himself wondering if those that came before him felt the same. For why would he need words when he is coming back to you, every time the sun should have kissed the mountains goodbye, finding you waiting for him. When he’s joining you in bed and guiding your head to rest on top of his chest, smiling at the feeling of your own smile against his skin as you nose at his neck, throwing some odd comment out about the position or the way he cradles you so carefully. 

Why would he need words, when he can nose at the crown of your head before using one hand to guide your head up, letting him kiss your forehead, and then your nose, your cheek and then your lips.

Why would he need to say anything when you guide his head to your lap so easily, making him wonder if he ever had free will in regards to you in the first place. Your fingers card through his hair, undoing the braid at the side, easing the tension in his head. The world suddenly gains in color when he’s with you, and he grabs one of your hands to kiss the knuckles and inside of your palm.

Why would he need to say I love you when day after day he proves he wants you within his life - doesn’t matter how close or distant, in his settlement or not. ‘Just stay’ he says without speaking, holding your wrist in his hand, pulling you closer to him. In a similar way he grabs hold of you when a sudden  commotion stirs in the streets, and he’s already taking steps ahead of you to shield you from whatever threat sat before you. It’s the way he breathes a sigh of relief when it passes, a sound barely picked up on by a passerby or someone who doesn’t know him so well. It’s the way his eyes light up when he sees you. It’s the pink that dusts his cheeks when you surprise him with a kiss, and the gentle attempts to shoo you off of him to spare himself ‘the dignity of a Kremnoan’, but moments after he is waiting for more, you see it, feel it. Want is riddled in every motion of his body, each crevice full to bursting with want for you; to hold you, kiss you, caress you, keep you safe.

Was there ever a moment his action did not speak louder than words? Was there a moment you doubted him simply because his lips did not utter the phrase ‘I love you’ ?

Mydei wonders whether or not his ancestors felt the love he was feeling, if they did the same things he did, and perhaps chose not to name it for it meant displaying their softness to the whole world. Or perhaps they feared it. They chose not to name either feeling, fear or love. But not naming it does not erase it from existence.

So when Mydei verbalizes his love for you in the dark setting of your bedroom, whispering it in your ear, his heart is heavy, cracking in your hold and he only wishes to hear the acceptance from your end. Hold his heart, see how it beats for you. 

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[dxnheng]

mydei is not much for words when he’s at home. he usually keeps to himself, finding some corner of the room to brood and mull over whatever’s running through his head. you’re used to it by now, the way he moves through the place like a shadow. it’s comforting in a way, knowing he’s there, even when he doesn’t say much.

today is no different. he’s sitting by the open window, patching up a tear in his cloak, his hands deft and careful despite the bulk of his gloves. you can tell he’s focused—eyes narrowed and lips pressed into a line. you almost feel bad for interrupting him. almost. 

you sidle up behind him, leaning your chin on his shoulder and peering at his handiwork. “busy?”

he doesn’t look at you, just grunts in response, which is typical mydei for yes, i’m doing something important, don’t bother me.

but you’re in one of those moods, craving his attention, and so you move to sit in his lap, ignoring the way his hands momentarily freeze as you straddle his thighs. 

“what are you doing?” you ask, trailing your fingers along the shoulder strap of his armour.

“fixing this,” he answers, holding up the cloak to show you the messy tear. “ripped it last time.”

you hum, glancing at the haphazard stitches and pretending to be interested. really, you’re more focused on how he’s refusing to look at you, his jaw tight and his eyes stubbornly fixed on his task. you can’t help yourself—you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

“stop,” he grumbles, but there’s no heat to it.

you hum again, ignoring him, and press another kiss to his temple, then one to his forehead. he doesn’t pull away; just lets out a slow, exasperated breath, like he’s tolerating you. you know better. his hands have already settled on your waist, keeping you in place like he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

“you’re tense,” you murmur, nudging his nose with yours. “you ought to take a break.”

“i’m fine,” he grunts, but his eyes flicker down to your mouth. he swallows, looking annoyed with himself. “you’re in the way.”

“am i?” you tease, trailing kisses along his jaw.

he huffs out a low, disgruntled sound, and his hands flex against your waist. you take advantage of his hesitation, kissing along his cheekbones and up the bridge of his nose.

“enough,” he says, almost pleading, but he doesn’t make a move to stop you. his voice is soft, and you can see the way his resolve crumbles with every kiss.

you kiss the corner of his mouth, just to be mean, and he finally breaks, catching your chin and forcing you to look at him. his face is flushed, eyes bright and dangerous, and you can’t help but smile at how easily he folds for you.

“happy now?” he mutters, letting his forehead bump against yours lightly.

“mm. getting there,” you reply, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before pulling back. 

he grumbles something under his breath—something in kremnoan, probably—and goes back to mending his cloak, pointedly ignoring the way your fingers trace patterns on his shoulders. you know he’s not really annoyed, though—especially not when his hands stay right where they are, keeping you steady in his lap.

⇢ a/n: i love mydei a normal amount (writing a long fic for him as we speak). i also love @lotusteabag a normal amount and this is for her.

[myderis]

the promised fairytale ꒱ mydei 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.3k

“Are you two married?” A small boy with a sword in hand, eyes bright and full of curiosity, turns to MYDEIMOS, and the prince immediately opens his mouth to dismiss the idea. “No, we are no—”

“Oh, Mydei. I didn’t know you saw me that way~” you tease, standing at the dusty training grounds as the kids swing their wooden swords around, trying to be just like their role models. His face flushes a little, but he doesn’t break his cool or let you tease him further.

“I don’t. More training, less talking,” Mydei says, keeping his attention on the little girl trying to hold her wooden weapon properly, though his annoyance is hard to ignore.

The girl looks up at the prince, raising an eyebrow. “You two argue like my parents do.” Mydei freezes, caught off guard by her bluntness. He rolls his eyes and sighs, walking away to take a breather, not wanting to have this conversation again. “Let’s take a break.”

As the children are happy with their well-deserved rest, you sidle up to them, handing them water or the much-preferred pomegranate juice. “He’s just shy. Give him time.” You wink, nudging the boy who started it all. “Now, now, who wants some sweet treats?”

The little girl takes advantage of you being occupied and approaches Mydei. She looks up at him, her hands carefully clutching her sword. “If I were like Lady (Name), a beautiful and good woman, and a prince like you came along…” She pauses, having that dreamy look on her face, waiting for his reaction. “We'd get married. That’s what happens in the fairytales, right?”

Mydei stands still, gazing down at the child and then at you, observing how your smile makes the rest of the children happier, how you just being here makes him feel so … giddy. He exhales deeply, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Well, fairytales are a bit nonexistent.” He glances at you, his voice soft. “But you should never settle for anything less than you deserve.”

“Really? Is the wedding soon?” The prince rolls his eyes and ruffles her hair, making her laugh, but he doesn’t answer, and she only takes his answer as a promise that it will happen.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

✧ tws : sfw : really suggestive, mild body worship, physical intimacy, sweat and physical description of Mydei’s big muscles.

✧ synopsis : giving your husband a back massage. (gn!reader)

Mydei was sprawled across the bed, his golden eyes flickering toward you as a small smile curled his lips, clearly exhausted but content. “You always know how to take care of me,” he murmured, voice husky and heavy with desire.

You approached him slowly, eyes trailing over the strong planes of his body. His chest rose and fell with each breath, the sweat glistening on his skin as it clung to his toned abs. His biceps flexed slightly when he shifted, the muscles rippling beneath his shirt. The heat of his body was intoxicating, and you couldn’t help but admire the sculpted beauty of his form.

You began massaging his back, fingers pressing firmly into the tight muscles. Mydei let out a low groan at the first touch, his body tensing slightly before he relaxed into your hands, sighing as you worked away the tension.

The warmth of his skin under your palms made your breath catch in your throat. His sweat-slicked chest was tempting, each movement of your fingers only drawing you closer to him. Your hands slid lower, tracing the ridges of his spine, your touch leaving a lingering heat on his skin. As you leaned over him, your breath brushed across his neck, and you could feel the faint shudder run through him. His chest tightened with every stroke, muscles flexing in response to your touch.

“You’re good at this,” Mydei whispered, his voice thick with need as your fingers dug deeper into the muscles of his lower back. His abs tightened, his body reacting instinctively to your every movement.

You let your hands trail across his shoulders, brushing against the damp skin of his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your touch. Mydei’s biceps flexed as he shifted slightly, his body almost demanding more from you. Your fingers lingered just a moment longer, the heat between you both rising with every passing second.

“You really are a work of art,” you whispered, your voice low as you took in the way his body seemed to pulse beneath your touch, the sweat glistening on his chest.

A smirk played on Mydei’s lips, his golden eyes locking onto yours. “You like what you see?”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you leaned in, your body pressing closer to his. The warmth of him made your heart race. Your hands kept moving over his back, each touch making him shudder slightly.

Without thinking, you kissed his neck, the salty taste of his skin making you want more. Mydei’s breath hitched, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours, hungry and urgent. The kiss was slow at first, but it quickly deepened, both of you pulling each other closer.

“You’re... driving me crazy,” Mydei whispered between kisses, his voice rough. His hands slid to your back, pulling you even closer, and you could feel his chest against yours, strong and warm.

You kissed him back, your hands moving up to trace the hard lines of his shoulders. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you murmured, your voice breathless. His lips trailed down your neck, and you let out a soft gasp, feeling the heat between you both rise with each kiss. Every touch felt like it was pulling you deeper into the moment, the connection between you undeniable.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[behold-dusk]

ᝰ.ᐟ THINKING ABOUT PHAINON AS YOUR BOYFRIEND! (MINORS DNI)

pairing(s) ⭑.ᐟ phainon x gn!reader themes ⭑.ᐟ fluff, nsfw cw ⭑.ᐟ mentions of oral, mentions of cum, modern snacks in hsr lmao, minimally implied that reader is a chyrsos heir a/n ⭑.ᐟ i tried my best to proofread and keep the reader gender neutral. i also got lazy during the nsfw part lol

word count ⭑.ᐟ 853

── .✦ PHAINON | SFW

ִ ࣪𖤐 This guy’s love language towards you? Phainon is generally a well-rounded partner. He does anything, but hands down, he loves physical touch and gift-giving the most. He doesn't JUST express his love, but also delivers.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Having his hands be able to hold you and feel every part of you brings him comfort in knowing you’re safe and not going anywhere. He also loves to give you small snacks every time he passes by your office door, occasionally dropping off Fruit Roll-ups and Gushers.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He gets promise rings with both your birthstones as the gemstones in the intricate silver pieces that wraps around both your ring fingers on your right hand. He strictly tells you not to wear it on your left ring finger because the engagement ring will be 10x as better and prettier than your promise ring.

ִ ࣪𖤐 When he’s out to battle against the Black Tide, he loops the ring around a string and wears it as a necklace because his hand is more prone to being injured and the ring has potential risks of breaking from friction and sweat. (And also because wearing it as a necklace keeps it closer to his heart.)

ִ ࣪𖤐 Not only that!! He kisses the ring before entering the battlefield as a silent prayer that he’ll come home, scathed or unscathed. He doesn’t care—he just wants to return home, to you.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He'll order takeout on nights that are harder than usual for you. Yes, Alfredo is good, but having it consecutively for 7 nights in a row is overkill, even for him. It's the only thing he can successfully make without killing both your taste buds.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Secretively, even though he's aware baking and cooking are different, he'll ask Mydei to teach him how to bake for you. He silently envies the way Mydei can make goodies that look straight out of bakeries. He sees the way you always drool over desserts displayed at windows and hopes he can make the cat shaped cupcakes you swoon over!

ִ ࣪𖤐 He. Is. A. Sucker. For. PDA.

ִ ࣪𖤐 If you guys are out running errands around the Holy City, he’ll just hold you by your waist and rest his head on your shoulder while you make small talk with the merchants about purchases. And it’s no surprise that when the trip is longer than expected and you’ve shown him less affection than he’d like, he'll start pressing gentle kisses on your shoulder and nape while swaying impatiently.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Then, when little kids stride by and point to you guys to their moms and ask, “What are they doing?” there’s an evident hue of red appearing on both your cheeks, but Phainon remains stubborn and refuses to let go with a small awkward grin towards the curious children.

ִ ࣪𖤐 When you scold him and dim down the PDA to just hand-holding, he sulks like a kicked puppy with a small frown tangled with a pout and stands idly beside you. His hands are occupied and full of grocery bags, knowing full well he won’t be able to hold your hand at all.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Phainon loves pushing you out of your comfort zone. He'll push you to comfort crying kids in the bustling streets of Okhema, he'll push you to dance with him at celebrations, etc. And when you recoil and tell him, "I'll embarrass myself," he tells you stupid cheesy motivation quotes like: "Day one? Or one day?", "Not taking that risk is a risk," "Don't fear failure, fear not trying," etc. LOL

ִ ࣪𖤐 You play a major role in his life, and he makes it extremely prominent. Like, actually, and it’s sickening. He’ll ask Tribbie to make cute emojis of you so he can spam them to you, he’ll tell Mydei about your talks and dates, and he’ll tell Aglaea, “Well, what would [name] say about this?” with a crossed arm and hand on his chin when it comes to big decisions regarding the Flame-Chase journey.

── .✦ PHAINON | NSFW

ִ ࣪𖤐 This man in bed? GOD, he fucking worships you. He loves to hear your whimpers, grunts, and moans. On top of that, he just loves seeing you squirm away.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He LOVES to give oral more than receiving it. Don’t get him wrong, it’s fucking heavenly when your pretty lips are wrapped around him, but feeling you buck away from overwhelming pleasure that he’s giving you makes it so much better.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He’s big into lingerie. Especially white lingerie with stocking garters. First time he saw you in white lacy lingerie with stocking garters he nearly cummed in his pants.

ִ ࣪𖤐 Something about seeing you covered in his loads of white is just so attractive to him. It awakens something feral and primal inside him that even he can’t understand or explain to you.

ִ ࣪𖤐 He doesn’t strike me as someone whose go-to is doggy, cowgirl, etc. (unless he’s jealous) he strikes me as someone who loves the legs-on-shoulder position. It just lets him settle and bury himself so deep inside you.

[luvkinich]

my everything

warnings + notes: phainon x reader, fluff, 1,1k words, phainon is whipped for you, minor spoilers to his lore?? i think + my third fic on this account IM CRYING WTF how have i only made 3 fics here art by shenteita on twt

tags: @somniachant

Phainon's past haunts him like a ghost. Memories of losing his family, friends, and hometown keep coming back to him every night he sleeps. Perhaps that’s why he’s unwilling to forge new relationships with people.

However, despite his past haunting him, Phainon finds himself in a predicament. You, a flower shop owner in Amphoreus, catch his attention. You and your passion for flowers make Phainon feel safe and comfortable. Your flower shop isn’t huge like the other famous shops in the city, but it is cozy enough that you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

The flowers are also one unique aspect of your shop, being the only flower shop in the city. Though, you must say, not that many people like to buy flowers anymore (not even for courting someone, which shocks you to your core).

The door to your shop flings open just as the clock strikes 3 pm, and you see the familiar white-haired figure walk into your shop. It’s a routine for Phainon to visit your shop every evening. Sometimes, you wonder to yourself why a Chrysos Heir would make daily visits to your small flower shop without buying anything, but you can’t bring yourself to question him over something like that.

“Good evening, Y/N,” Phainon gives you a smile, one that melts your heart instantly. “How has your day been?” That’s another thing with Phainon - he always asks about how your day went, and to be honest? You don’t find it bothersome at all. Usually, you find it annoying when people pester you about your day every five minutes, but with Phainon, you find it endearing.

“Good evening, Phainon,” you greet him back. “My day has been… okay, I think? I didn’t have that many customers today, but it doesn’t really bother me that much. Business has been slow for a couple of weeks now that Valentine’s is over.” You look back at your notebook, one that you keep to track customers and sales. “But I still have my regular customers coming in to pick up their flowers. How about you? How’s it going with the Chrysos Heir?”

“Ah,” Phainon lets out a small laugh. “Never been better, I think? Mydei and I had a little sparring match this morning, and of course, I won.” You have a small inkling he might be lying, but you don’t comment on it. “And then I spent the rest of my day in my room. Boring, huh?”

“No, I don’t think so,” you reply. Phainon looks at you, confused. “I mean, ever since the disaster started, you barely got any sleep, right? So I think it’s good you were doing nothing today.”

“Huh,” Phainon says. “Never thought of it that way.” He smiles at you again. “Oh, right! Back to the matter at hand, I need some flowers.”

You blink, surprised. Phainon buying flowers? Now, that’s new. “Oh, what kind of flowers? Are you planning on confessing to someone today?” you tease, hoping it’s not true.

“Um, actually… yes.” Phainon’s response shatters your heart.

Oh… so you do have someone you like. You think to yourself, and you quickly mask your hurt with a shocked expression, not wanting Phainon to feel guilty. “That’s new! So, who’s this lucky person?”

Phainon blushes, and you can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. “You’ll see later. Now come on, what are some flowers I can buy?”

“Hmm,” you hum, flipping through your notebook containing flower meanings (yes, you still rely on notes; you have a terrible memory). “How about red tulips?” You walk over to the tulips, pick out a bouquet, and hand it to Phainon. “Pretty, isn’t it?”

Phainon’s eyes shine with excitement. “Ah, they’re definitely gorgeous. What do they symbolize?”

“Endless love,” you state. “I think it’s perfect for you and that lucky person.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Phainon mutters, staring at the flowers as he envisions giving them to the person he loves. “How much are they?”

“They’re on the house,” you reply, and Phainon is about to protest, but you cut him off. “They’re on the house, Phainon. Don’t argue with me now,” you repeat, huffing to mask the hurt. “Now go and confess already!”

Phainon blinks a couple of times before smiling brightly. “Okay, thank you, Y/N. Truly.” He leaves, and as soon as he’s out of sight, you sigh. Another crush of yours failed.

The rest of your day passes more slowly than usual. As expected, no one else comes in after Phainon leaves, so you decide to close the shop early.

As soon as everything is locked up, you’re surprised to see Phainon standing behind you, still holding the red tulips you gave him. “...Phainon? What are you doing here? Oh no, did the confession not go well? Do you want to talk about it?”

“Um,” he starts a bit sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t confess yet, actually.”

“Huh? Why?” you ask, confused. “Did they not show up?”

“No… they’re actually right here,” Phainon says, and when you don’t catch on, he lets out a small laugh. “Y/N, I’m saying I was waiting for you to close the shop so I could confess to you.”

“Oh,” you say, and then it hits you, causing you to gasp. Your cheeks turn red as you cover your mouth. “Wait- huh?!”

“I like you, Y/N-”

“No, wait, stop!” You turn around, covering your face. “I wasn’t- I thought-”

“Was this a bad time...?” Phainon asks innocently, making you turn back around. “Sorry-”

“No, don’t be sorry! I just- I wasn’t expecting this! I really thought you had a crush on someone else, so I felt hurt, and that’s why I gave you those flowers for free, so I wouldn’t have to see you all smiley about them!” you ramble, stopping only when Phainon bursts out laughing. “What’s so funny?!”

“You’re adorable, Y/N,” he says. “So that’s why you made me leave so quickly.” He stretches out his hand holding the flowers towards you. “So? Will you accept me as your boyfriend now that you know this is for you?”

“Phainon, you big dummy,” you sigh, laughing at your own foolishness. “Yes, yes I do.” Phainon smiles so brightly it almost blinds you. You take the flowers from his hands, and even though they're from your own shop and garden, you accept them as if they're from somewhere else. Aeons above, Phainon looks so cute smiling at you like that.

“Since you decided to close the shop early tonight, want to go on a mini-date? We can take a stroll around the city if you’d like,” Phainon suggests. Normally, if anyone else suggested this to you, you'd decline immediately, wanting to go home and tend to your growing plants. But this is Phainon, your boyfriend (you let out a giddy laugh in your head).

“Of course,” you agree. “Where do you want to take me?”

“Hmm, I think we can stop by your favorite restaurant first for some dinner, and then we can go to…” Phainon starts listing almost every date spot in Amphoreus, and you can only look at him with adoration in your eyes.

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙪𝙡 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙛𝙚 𝙤𝙛 𝙖 𝙘𝙖𝙩 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩 ✿

characters: jing yuan, blade, dan heng, welt yang, yanqing, sampo, gepard, luocha x nb!reader

warnings: tooth rutting fluff, advised for u to read while sitting down or in private bc u might have a heart attack from how cute and chaotic this shit is, some angst might be sprinkled in just bc✨✨

notes: that moment when you have a super bad baby fever except the fever is towards cat rather than babies. genshin impact ver can be read here! part 2 with penacony men!

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

oh fuck

look at that floof

that absolute big soft floofball peacefully sleeping on top of your favorite black shirt. your shirt is ruined, massive amount of white fur stuck to the fabric and you’re late for work but at least you have a happily napping away cat

a siberian cat, me thinks. with that amount of fur and that large body, he’s gotta be a siberian cat

spoiled, smug peace of shit and he knows it. revels in that title even

dubbed as ‘the handsome cat’ by your friends, co-workers and neighbors alike, meow yuan is surprisingly and not so surprisingly incredibly popular amongst the ladies. whether it be because of his fur, his adorable meows, the red ribbon you tied around his neck as a makeshift collar or his way of charming the ladies with a gentle pawing to their hand and a smug “meowww”, you will never know

the biggest out of the cats. but is it his body that’s big or is it the rapunzel like long fur that he has. the world will sadly never know and neither will you

surprisingly chatty at times. but worryingly very eepy. an adult cat should sleep about 12-16 hours a day and yet you’re pretty sure meow yuan spends 25 hours of the day sleeping away under the sunlight

closest to little nyanqing. seems to think of the youngest kitten as his own as he’s seen grooming or simply looking out for the young kitten at times. also seems to be a bit closer to nyan heng and meowade but the latter tends to spend his time alone

an absolute smug spoiled prince and he owns to it. whether it be feigning hurt, crying out for your attention or downright plopping himself down on your keyboard, deleting your entire progress of work, the little shit knows how to be a headache

but it’s okay, you always forgive him because he allows you to smush your face into the fur of his belly when you’re stressed or squish his soft toe beans. meow yuan is let off the hook yet again…

occasionally, meow yuan reminds you of a lion. it maybe weird and completely out of the blue but with the way he grooms others, his fur, the absolute motor like loud purrs he emits or the sheer massive size and weight of him — yeah, you get the point

one time, you decided to spoil him by carrying him around in your arms like how you do with the other cats. the loud crack! noise and the fact that you couldn’t get up the next day should prove just how damn big he is

meow yuan was a worry wart the whole day. constantly meowing in your ears, purring softly, nuzzling your side. it almost seemed like he was trying to apologize for being this big. to which you easily let him off the hook of course. how could anyone ever say no to that big adorable yellow eyes?

art credit to cocoink🍁 on twt

a bit of a worrying case, meowade is

he doesn’t like socializing, the other cats nor does he get along with you either. the only ones he seem to at least tolerate were meow yuan and nyan heng alongside you

likes to spend his time all alone, cooped up inside some small confined space, above the cupboard or inside his own small room in the cat tree. also enjoys spending time in your room as well but only if the other cats aren’t there

flinches or freezes up whenever you touch him which is incredibly worrying and gut-wrenching. makes you hate however was his previous owner to have caused meowade to despise touches and affections

the first time you found him, bleeding and wet on the side of the road and tried to wrap your coat around him to take him to the vet, the little scraggly cat hissed and clawed and bit at you with great amount of hate despite literally bleeding out. thankfully, he seemed to understand you were no threat as he went limp in your coat, allowing you to get him to the vet

due to whatever his past experiences were, meowade hates being close to anyone. but at least he was slowly but surely opening up to the others and you

the first time the poor scraggly cat decided to bump his head to your hand, asking for pets, you cried tears of joy and relief. at least, you can offer him healing and comfort as you and the other cats stay there for him on his journey

the second biggest cat, bested by meow yuan himself. not as big as him but damn can this cat scare others. whether it be other cats, your friends who decided to visit or some random dog that you passed by as you take meowade out for a walk

seriously, the amount of times this cat wrestled against dogs bigger than himself gives you heart attacks. it’s a real wonder and a miracle you aren’t dead yet

british shorthair, me thinks. but the ones that grow to be a bit bigger than the others

has a bad habit of just… staring off into space, unblinking with those big round eyes at times. literally no thoughts in his brain. head empty, as he just… stares off into space

“oh, having another existential crisis again? mind if i join you today, meowade?”

“…”

“… meow”

and so, this weird ritual of the two of you sitting side by side, staring off into the distance, unblinking as the cup of coffee in your hand goes cold has become something special in you two’s bonding moment. oneself that meowade looks forward to each day

sometimes, he tends to chase after nyan heng around the house for whatever the reason. it leaves poor nyan heng shaking and hissing as the small black cat comes to you for help

not the chattiest of cats nor is he the most pickiest. quite docile despite his killer stare at times and you would even daresay, shy when it comes to affection

overall, a cute cat. the cute pathetic ones that you just can’t help but adore and love

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

another docile cat!! perhaps even the most docile one!!!

at first, you were worried when taking him in because holy shit, where is his tail?! only after taking him to the vets did you finally managed to breathe a sigh of relief because nyan heng was a black manx breed of cat

lean, on the smaller side, an amazing hunter and a dutiful bug hunter in the house, nyan heng is a cute black manx who has a pretty green/grey eyes

an absolute sweetheart, always hoping to please you or help you out around the house as he helps to keep the other cats in line. except for meowade. he always finds himself having a hissing match with the black british shorthair or getting teased by the eepy meow yuan

closest to nyelt, as you had found the two cats together when you decided to take him in. almost seem to see nyelt as some sort of a father figure with how the little black manx constantly goes to the older one for advice or simply some help in grooming

has a cute simple, thread like thin black tie with a few charms around himself as a makeshift collar. he seems to like it despite the thread being a little bit too thin for cats’ comfort

seriously, what’s up with your cats and their desire to wear makeshift collars? makes you really consider if they are cats…

that aside, nyen heng also tends to be more active during nighttime. not the type that would take down things, destroy objects or cause ruckus and cause you jump out of the warm comfort of your bed. no, he just simply quietly trudges around the house, searching if he had truly hunted down every bugs and insects in the house

especially that spider

nyen heng hates to see you so scared over that cursed spider. so he makes it his life mission to rid the house of insects, more specifically, spiders!!

and damn is he absolutely devoted to his job because ever since you cried to your friend over the phone about the spider that you saw in your room, you never saw another spider ever again!

not the most chattiest nor is the most affectionate. he’s a mix of both but only when in privacy of you two or when he’s feeling particularly lonely

don’t get him wrong, the other cats are an amazing company but he just tends to seek out your attention and affection more y’know? there’s just something soothing about being by your side

seems to have some history with meow yuan and meowade. whether that be good with how friendly meow yuan is with nyan heng. or bad, with how meowade seems to want to take their play fighting to a whole next level

surprisingly, doesn’t like sunlight that much

most of the cats would follow the sunlight and it’s warmth and spend some time outside or on the window sill. but you can find the little black minx just chilling in one of the rooms of the cat tree of beside you, observing the other cats

nyen heng is an absolute sweetheart. the quiet type of sweetheart

the type of sweetheart that follows you around, hoping to help you out or simply offer a comforting presence. it’s the least he can do for you

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

another sweetheart of a cat except nyelt makes himself and his presence known unlike nyan heng

possibly a havana brown breed with just how damn calm, peaceful, loving and loyal he is. especially with you. havana browns tend to attach themselves to only one person during their span of life, which sometimes can feel like nyelt is just a biiitttt clingy with you

was there with nyan heng when you took the two cats in and often times acts like a father figure to the cats of the house which is a huge help to your mental state. except for nyanqing. nyanqing only has one father figure and that’s meow yuan

but that was completely fine since nyelt still looks after the little energetic kitten. often times looking after the cream munchkin as he carries nyanqing around by his scruff

to which, nyan heng comes to you for affection and attention. if his father figure won’t give it, then you surely will!

likes to wear the black mini scarf like collar around his neck. often times seen curled up inside the mini scarf as he sleeps the day away like most cats do

can come of as quite chatty at times with how attentive and helpful nyelt is

oh your back feels stiff? he can sit on it and make biscuits (that cute moment when cats knead their paws?). meow yuan is out of option since he’s way too big and heavy and could potentially be the sole reason you break your back. literally

oh nyanqing is missing again? what do you mean he’s missing? he’s right there, hiding inside one of the rooms of the cat tree

nyan heng is being bullied by meowade again? you know nothing of the weight behind this powe—

yeah, you get it. kinda reminds you of a grandpa with how attentive he is and how he has a single streak of grey atop his head fur. which is absolutely adorable and one place that you adore smothering with kisses

nyelt doesn’t seem to mind the affection too as he simply sits there, purring away and basking in your affection. a very pliant cat

sometimes, something seems to weigh heavily on his and nyan heng’s minds with how they curl up together or look out the window, seemingly searching for something

at first when they did that, you thought some bird or a squirrel passed by the window. but if that was the case then every cats should by by the windowsill

yet only nyelt and nyan heng are

at first it worried you because what if they were having cat depression?! are you absolutely sure that you’re being a good cat owner, [name]?!

yeah, you had a lot of self doubt and depressive episodes due to the two cats

however you finally figured out the case when one day, one of your co-workers suggested a play date with her own cats. saying that sometimes, cats need to see new faces to experience some relief from their everyday tasks or ways of living

the date was agreed upon and your co-worker decided to bring over a few of her cats

the immediate second the pretty red furred maine coon, pink-ish scottish fold and the grey striped scottish fold stepped out of the cat bag, nyelt and nyan heng seem to brighten immediately as they fucking dash towards the three cats

turns out the five of them seemed to have been close before they got separated and the two male cats found their way in your home

at least your cats were happy yet again. which made you happy in turn too

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

awwwwwww

everyone's reactions when you first introduce them to nyanqing. and honestly, you can't blame them because look at that cute little cream munchkin pitter pattering his way over here!!!

as stated above, a cute little cream colored munchkin

super adorable

tiny

a tiny baby

"hang on, i'm gonna have an abnormal increase in my sugar intake simply because nyanqing is just too damn adorable to not to do that" - you on a daily basis while calling your best friend and honestly? your bestie's starting to get a bit sick of your constant fawning over your cats

that is until you bestie decides to come over for a visit to drop off some meds for you (during the infamous 'trying to lift meow yuan and almost breaking your spinal cord' day), your bestie dropped down to the floor, unresponsive the moment you called over nyanqing to introduce him to your bestie

yeah... since then the two of you constantly fawn over the little munchkin while trying not to die of a cuteness overload

but it's completely fine and understandable even as you two get the nth heart attack this day simply because nyanqing was... well, nyanqing himself!

an adorable little pliant baby who loves nothing more than sleeping, playing around with meow yuan, you and sprinkles of mischief sometimes

is the closest to meow yuan and can be found with the large siberian cat whenever you can't find him. often times, you would have to move meow yuan over to check each and every nook and cranny around the large siberian cat just so you can get a glimpse of the small munchkin and let out a sigh of relief

at times, the eepy meow yuan tends to curl up with the tiny nyanqing buttttt due to how much of a heavy sleeper the larger cat is, nyanqing almost gets crushed under the much larger cat

yet he somehow is still alive and well and completely okay???? like what????????

still doesn't relieve your heart no matter how many times you find the tiny munchkin under the large siberian cat

is a little bit mischievous at times with how he lovingly bothers nyan heng. trailing after the black minx all the while meowing his ears off about something. the same can be applied to nyelt as well but nyelt tends to patiently converse with the small munchkin unlike nyan heng who wishes to avoid him at most times, preferring his lone and private time

seem to have some sort of an ongoing hidden agenda against meowade and luonya. the former black can cat be found bullying the small munchkin until either the other cats step in or you. as for the latter? no one knows. somehow, nyanqing always ends up getting into a defensive position whenever luonya comes into his field of vision

one time you even found nyanqing hisses at meowade with meow yuan behind the tiny kitten's back. you had to put the three of them into time out and give meowade a scolding

what about scolding nyanqing you say? well

“this is the last time i’ll let you off the hook, nyan-nyan. if i find you stirring up trouble again”

yeah… when are you ever going to stop letting your cats off of the hook [name]?

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

…

“you sure this is a cat and not a fox or a vixen undercover?”

“yes, it is indeed a cat and not a fox or a vixen undercover. i’m guessing it’s a somali cat though it could be mixed breed with another different cat breed as well”

“you sure…?”

“please get out, and allow the others to show their pets”

yeah… the local vet is familiar with you and your many different cats. not to mention the amount of times you asked if meowpo was truly a cat and not a fox undercover because damn, is this cat fucking mischievous

an absolute fucking menace and i cannot stress this enough, god

the type of cat who would keep a straight eye contact with you as his soft squishy paw slowly pushes a cup full of your coffee towards the edge of the surface all the while keeping the :3 face

oh you thought meow yuan was bad and mischievous? you immediately took back your words the second you adopted meowpo

that’s how damn bad this little cat is

you know those moments that you have like,,, a cute aggression? but instead of smothering the cat with kisses and hugs and cuddles, you end up lovingly bullying the cat? yeah. that’s your eternal cycle with meowpo

“you stupid—“ kiss “—fucking” kiss “—cat!” kiss “when the fuck—“ kiss “—and where the fuck” kiss “—did you came from” kiss “—to make me suffer, huh?”

a never ending cycle and meowpo fucking revels in the sheer amount of times he can make you have lovingly bullying cute aggression moments

seems to have some sort of a rivalry with nyepard and surprisingly meow yuan

nyepard was completely understood and truthfully, you saw it coming. nyepard is a rule follower and an enforcer through and through meanwhile meowpo is a rule breaker

so imagine your surprise when you come back home one day to see meow yuan glaring at meowpo from his windowsill

“meow yuan, what’s gotten into you? why are you bullying meowpo?”

“mrreow!” oh meow yuan sounded a bit angry. which only served to double your shock since meow yuan is a very gentle cat despite his large size. gentle, affectionate, chatty, friendly and a bit mischievous at times but never hostile or mean

“mrreeeooww!” meowpo seems to complain as he makes his way over to hide behind your leg. he seems to be shaking or even afraid of the larger cat

to which, you immediately coddled and soothed meowpo over and scolded meow yuan afterwards. all the while meowpo gives meow yuan a knowing smug look

yeaaahhh… these idiots are fighting for your attention and affection

if meowpo isn’t somewhere inside the house, creating chaos and getting scolded by the other cats then you can definitely find him by asking a help from nyepard. nyeppie would dutifully carry out his duties and rat meowpo out in record time

but he isn’t always so mean or mischievous. the times where you fall sick and is having a hard time trying to breathe through your nostrils, meowpo is the one who takes care of the other cats’ bowls of food and water

it was a way of him hoping to help you out the tiniest bit as you lay bedridden

art credit to Toma超想吃番茄 on yt!

nyepard, the most… dog-like cat you would ever meet. but also a cheetah-like as well????

it’s hard to explain since nyeppie has spotted fur and the black smokey eye that cheetahs have and not to mention his large yet lean physique as well

the second largest. whereas meowade is also the second biggest due to his length, neppie is the second biggest due to being a bit on the… buffer? side

seriously, you were worried for a few days when nyepard kept growing and growing, showing absolutely no sign of stopping his growth spurt

thankfully, he isn’t as big as meow yuan

you don’t wanna live with the embarrassment of getting dragged down the street by another big ass cat chasing after a random pretty leaf they saw. nope. you can’t deal with the embarrassment and shame

and yes, you did dragged down the street when taking meow yuan out on a walk before but that is a story and second hand embarrassment for another time

another sweetheart despite his size

very doting, gentle, very shy when it comes to affections but still asks for them anyways because it’s you

the first time you took nyepard for his vet vaccinations, the veterinarian looked at you dead in the eyes as if saying “bestie, what the fuck?”

of course you would get weird stares whenever you take the big cat out for a walk. he’s as big as a doberman dog and the dotted furs of his doesn’t exactly help to direct attention away from yourself

but the sheer amount of power you feel when walking down the street with both meow yuan and nyepard by your two sides is fucking addicting

one cat that closely resembles a lion and another that looks like a cheetah. at least you sleep peacefully at night knowing that you have two scary cats privilege

scary dog privilege? [name] only knows and experiences scary cats privilege. at times it's adorable but also threatening as well because your bestie and some close co-workers know just how devoted and loyal your cats are towards you

nyeppie is the most loyal of them all. or at least, one who is willing to show it at each minute of the day with how dutifully he chases after insects with nyan heng, scolds meowpo or just is there to be your emotional support

by being your emotional support, nyeppie meant being there sitting beside your computer as you diligently types away at a work report and not to be your cuddle victim!!!! no, no no no, no no, you're not squishing his paws as you take him away in your arms to cuddle on the bed!! you always end up falling asleep!!!! what do you mean by it's completely fine that you have saved up the progress and the deadline isn't close yet?! the deadline is before midnight!!!

sigh...

if only cats could sigh heavily and smack his face with his palm as he watches you scamper about, trying to wake yourself up as you realize that you did ended up napping the day away with nyeppie in your arms

well, at least you managed to send the report in at time. by 'at time' you and him both meant at least 2 minutes before the deadline closed up

nyepard guesses you can cuddle with him this time since you managed to finish the report within a record time of 47 minutes

art credit to mm_mako22 on danbooru!

luonya is probably the most weirdest cat you ever had the pleasure of adopting. and that was saying something because you're pretty sure you live with a long lost lion and a cheetah and a fox cats!!!!

and he's just a simple, silly, lovely cream colored turkish angora!!!!!

ah, whatever. you guess its just life's way of dealing you karma by making you live with a bit quirky 8 cats

jokes and a lot of conspiracy theories pushed aside for now, time to focus on the present AKA 'the pretty cat'

oh yes, while meow yuan was getting dubbed as 'the handsome cat' by almost everyone who meets him, luonya was rightfully dubbed as 'the pretty cat'

at this point, you're damn sure that your friends and co-workers come around only to coo over your cats and to spoil them rather than spending time with you... understandable, because you too would do the same without a single ounce of shame and you absolutely mean every damn word

one time, just for shits and giggles and a bunch of pictures to take of your latest cat, you signed him up for a cat beauty pageant

it was only for shits and giggles and a reason to snap pictures of luonya in a pretty cat costumes and stuff, you swear!! so imagine your surprise and how far down your jaw went slack when the host announced your cat, luonya as the cat beauty pageant winner!!!

yeah...

it was a chaotic thing to happen truly and the small glares and backhanded compliments the other cat parents were giving you was making you break out in cold sweat. at least, you have your pretty cat with you to soothe yourself a bit

and a nice whopping 300K dollars as the victor money!!!! damn, you're rich as shit now

not for too long since that money is gonna fly away in the wind due to the fact that you adopted a literal 7 cats and a kitten

worth it, you cry internally as you pay for the 50 kilograms of cat food all the while luonya gently meows at you as in a way of saying "hurry up, dear. we still have to pick up the wet food and the snacks too"

hhhh yeah

this cream colored turkish angora of yours is absolutely drop dead gorgeous yet at the same time he also has a very large secretive look on his face. there's just something about the way that luonya just acts, always sitting atop a high place in the house, as he just stares into the souls of everyone within the room

weirdly smells like either flowers or of medicine and pills and there's absolutely no in between. it's either giving lilies or pills but either way, your cat is a girlboss and he seems to know it as well

not entirely affectionate like meow yuan or meowpo but he is also not too talkative either. a bit of something in between along the lines

is affectionate and talkative at times but prefer it if you would be asleep or when its just you two when he finally decides to curl up on your lap

overall, luonya is a very gentle yet also a very suspicious cat but is oki, he girlboss and he knows what he wants and needs with how he sometimes fakes choking noises to make you get up in light speed

[ryuucam]

MY SAVIOR, BEAUTIFUL SOUL

⋆｡𖦹°‧ the oak family head has always intrigued you, but your sworn loyalty to the nameless led you to raise your sword against him in battle. but now that it’s all over, and he’s repented his sins, will you let him get closer to your heart?

contains friends to lovers but it’s more like love at first sight, slight aventurine x reader, purity-corruption talk, slight yan!sunday, gopher wood and sunday backstory, religious imagery, character study?, very very slight gore but as a rhetorical device, pov changes (reader -> sunday), scent kink, virgin!reader (implied) and virgin!sunday, he’s an asshole about virginity, cunningulus, pussy referred to as “she”, dubcon-noncon creampie

notes this was supposed to be a drabble idk what went wrong, take this as a thank u for all the support <33 feel free to send in requests

sunday, dominicus, the oak family head. ever since you arrived in penacony, you’ve heard these names countless times - but you can’t blame the citizens, because, as the ipc gambler said, he is the most famous man in the whole planet of festivities (well, he said handsome, but thinking about how attractive he is will just make you even more distracted). you can’t deny that you feel intrigued by the halovian, but, with all that happened, it is very unlikely that you’d ever interact with him again. well, that’s the harsh reality of the trailblaze - as march told you in one of your “girl talks” in your room in the reverie. and as soon as you start coming to terms that your little crush on sunday is destined to be inconclusive, you suddenly receive a text from mr. yang: the man you’ve been infatuated with is joining the express.

you’re a bit ashamed of your lack of hesitation when it’s time to vote in favor of the new member of the astral express - at least caelus and the others agree with you in looking past all the ena chaos. well, it’s not like you went against your better judgment: it’s clear that sunday has had a change of heart, and all his actions are a product of years of grooming and abuse by another member of the family. as he came to terms with this knowledge, though, sunday changed. the meticulous oak family head is no more, and all that’s left behind is a bird with no wings, no freedom, nothing. but, despite being just a shadow of his former self, the halovian is not a stranger to humanity, to feelings. he saw your behavior on penacony (your courage, your strength, your desire for freedom), and he saw how you stood up for him for his addition to the nameless. and he admires you.

as weeks go by on the express, sunday slowly starts getting closer to you: first, it’s offering you some insight on books he’s read, that are most certainly in your interest, miss y/n, then, it’s joining you for breakfast. and when you two are close enough - closer than he is to any other member on the express - he starts being more physical. resting his knee against yours (unknowingly making your heart skip a beat, or two), lying his hand on your shoulder, and slowly inching his face closer and closer to yours. even if he’s long abandoned the manipulative powers of ena, you still feel trapped by his gaze. however, it’s not controlling - far from it - but the sheer sensibility and vulnerability that pool in his irises are enough to make you go weak in the knees.

one night, you’re both sprawled out on your bed, staring at the stars in the ceiling. while you’re seemingly relaxed, sunday feels like his brain is about to short circuit any second now: his nose is filled with your perfume, his fingers are less than an inch apart from yours, and his eyes are stuck on your face. have you always looked this good? yes, he’s sure of it: your hair frames your face so well, your complexion looks exceptionally dreamy, and the way your eyes melt into his is enough to make him feel lightheaded. and your body - god, your body. sunday has lived a life of chastity, of strict rules and limited, if not any, freedom. even so, he can’t help but feel guilty when he feels his cock inevitably strain against his pants when you unintentionally get closer to him. his breath hitches, and he hopes, prays even, that you don’t notice the twitching. sunday feels like the guilt could eat him alive: you’re so sweet, so willing to accept him for who he is - and he’s doing nothing but tainting the sweet image has of you.

who is he kidding? the second he met you, you were corrupted by him. since your first introduction in the reverie, when he wasn’t an outcast, a fugitive yet, but the most respectable man in penacony, he had his mind set on you. he was disgusted with himself when he felt his stomach churn at every interaction you had with the stoneheart. sunday knew he had no business involving himself with your affairs with aventurine, but he went against his better judgment and spent just a tiny bit more time torturing the avgin man. of course, he feels like a monster now. and he felt like one when you were on the battlefield, fighting against the harmonious choir, against him. but, sunday is now a new man. so, deep in his heart, he hopes that you’ll forgive him for lusting over you.

“sunday? are you okay?”

oh. your voice, your sweet, honey-like voice. it’s enough for him to be stripped away from his thoughts, a saint arriving at a land of sin and evil. he coughs - a lousy way to mask his thinking. “i…yes. don’t concern yourself, miss y/n”. your eyes soften. “sunday… you can tell me what’s wrong. you’re not alone anymore.”

right - he’s not alone. he has you, mr. yang, caelus… he is no longer trapped in a cage, and his newfound freedom is hard to process. the world sunday has known for years has collapsed, but rebuilding a new one is easy if you’re with him. and he knows you won’t leave. right? how could you leave? an angel like you is above all cruelty he’s known, and you’ll take care of him. so he smiles, and closes his eyes, denying himself to stare at you any further.

you just sigh: after all that’s happened, you can’t bring yourself to pry further in his mind. you don’t know what you’ll find. so, unconsciously, you reach out to him, hand sneaking over his face, caressing his cheek. you don’t miss the hitching of his breath, or how his eyebrows form a slight frown. sunday, on the other hand, is feeling everything all at once: he feels like he’s crash landing in a groundless void. the more he sits there, helpless, the more he feels disgusted with himself. how can he not do anything in this situation?

but he knows, deep down, that you won’t blame him for being weak: you’re worshipping him as much as he does you, and for just a second, sunday feels the robbed divinity rush in his veins again.

and with this newfound confidence, sunday open his eyes and almost closes the gap between you two. it’s bold, irrational, and so unlike him, but he sees no trace of malevolence in your eyes - just genuine surprise. he thinks you look so cute like this, so surprised. so he’ll keep going, so long as he gets to see you like this. he inches closer, and everything around him stops. his heart and mind are racing with questions, unresolved reasonings, but sunday thinks it’s time to let this all go. maybe he’s trying to cope with the lustful, sinful, but oh so addicting thoughts he has of you, but maybe, just maybe, he’s a tired man seeking solace.

and maybe he can be both, he concludes. his lips press against yours, clumsy and inexperienced, and his eyes flutter shut. sunday feels the oxygen flowing back into his lungs when you mimic his actions. the hand that was resting on his cheek now serves as a way to pull you both closer to each other, both unknowingly afraid to break the kiss. it’s fragile, raw, but so is sunday. you’re the first to pull away, reluctantly, but the halovian knocked all air out of your lungs. your hand doesn’t move, though, and a line of spit that connects your lips serves as a testimony to what just happened. you’re breathless, wordless, but sunday sees your dilated pupils and reddened cheeks - maybe you need him in the same way he needs you. that must be it.

“miss y/n…” sunday speaks first. your expression softens. he sees it, and suddenly every word that comes to his mind seems meaningless, unworthy of being uttered in your presence. you deserve more, much more, and sunday fears he’ll never be able to communicate with you - not even by ripping out his heart and handing it to you. you sense this (and sunday wonders how: surely you have not been blessed by xipe?), and rest your forehead against his. you smile, and he feels powerless. experimentally, you rest your lips on top of his. “is this okay?”, you murmur, lips not leaving his.

god, yes. sunday feels no hesitation as he crashes into the kiss, breaking the soft and gentle balance you tried to build. he knows he’s never done this before, but he doesn’t worry about self consciousness, insecurities or whatnot. he forgets about lust, maybe because he’s already been taken over by it, or maybe because what he’s feeling is love. either answer is foreign to sunday, who keeps following his instinct. he gently moves on top of you, one hand holding yours, while your other hand lowered itself on the nape of his neck. he kisses you again, and again, until you’re both panting, lips swollen and wet with spit. and the he feels it - how could he have forgotten it? the strain in his pants is more evident than ever, nudging at your soft thigh. he whimpers at the friction, feeling his clothed sensitive tip nudge against your skin. sunday feels his stomach churn: what now? he’s never done this before - he has never touched his cock, let alone have it done by someone else.

then, he hears it. and he feels like he could listen to that angelic sound for the rest of his life.

you whimpered - or is that a stifled moan? sunday does not know, but it doesn’t matter as he’s now painfully aware of your presence. he feels lightheaded, his mouth is inexplicably dry: he swallows, then closes his eyes. he gets closer to you, nose prodding at your cheek, taking in your scent - it’s sweet, just like you, but it’s just so human, so raw. is this what arousal smells like? sunday’s head is spinning, and he feels like all the blood his poor heart is pumping out is going straight to his pants. his free hands goes from your cheek, your neck, your collarbones. then, he hesitates: he needs to tell you something, he can’t just take you. “miss y/n… will you let me?” your eyes are watery, your face is burning. you can just nod, not being able to let out any word but a sweet, sweet whimper. sunday smiles: you’re just so cute. “you have to tell me… can’t do anything otherwise. can you do that for me, miss?”

embarrassment pools over you. when did he get so bold? but his erection feels so good on your skin, and you need more: so, you do as he commands. “please, sunday… t-touch me? please-ah!…” sunday rolls his hips into your crotch as you speak, tip hitting your poor cunt. he smiles, and kisses you again. he keeps on kissing you, trying his best to keep you quiet - and him. his hands sneak down to your chest, feeling the soft, supple flesh sink into his cold, trembling fingers: your breasts are even better than what he imagined (countless nights spent stifling his noises as he pumped his cock, thinking about you), and he feels his dick twitch when he feels your nipples hardening. as he unbuttons your shirt, he wonders how he could’ve lived without this, without you, for so long. you’re left in your bra - it’s nothing elaborated or fancy, just a white, lacy bra that cups your boobs so well. sunday breaks the kiss to press pecks all the way down to your neck, pressing his lips on your soft mounds and nose on your cleavy. aeons, you smell so good. “pl-please… help me take this off.” you don’t question his inexperience, and slowly unhook your bra. sunday’s the one that takes it off, and he swears his briefs are drenched in precum. he latches his mouth on your nipple, hand playing with the other, first sucking gently - and as you moan and cry louder, he gets harsher. he’s unaware of the hickeys tainting your smooth skin: even if he wasn’t, he’s too busy playing with your tits. his cock is subconsciously prodding at your crotch, and you can’t take it anymore: “sund-ah! sunday!… ngh, n-need you to-hm!… do m-more…”

oh. how can he deny you? he leaves a goodbye kiss on your nipple, so lewd but so him, and moves his hands to your waist, slowly tugging down your skirt. once it’s off, sunday focuses on your panties - oh, they’re matching with your bra. did you do this for him?, he wonders. you minx, you knew that he’s infatuated with you. well, now’s not the time to dwell on this, he concludes, and strips you of your panties. now he’s left stunned: your puffy cunny is staring right back at him. “y-y/n… you’re gonna let me touch this? this pretty pussy? please?…” you nod - the praise making your head spin and eyes roll back into your skull. sunday smiles, relieved: he didn’t know what he’d do if you denied him of your sweet hole any longer. his face hovers over your crotch, lips kissing your labia, your clit, your hole.

his nose is pressed against your clit, bumping on it as he makes out with your cunt - and you cry, thrashing desperately because this is so lewd, so perverted! how’s sunday supposed to know all this? your thoughts are interrupted when he sighs, and reluctantly leaves your pussy alone. you gulp as he raises his body, undoing his belt and letting his pants fall. he’s in his briefs, and you can clearly see the fat outline of his cock. it’s hard, thick, and there’s a wet spot right where the tip is: sunday lets out a deep breath, and tugs down his pants. your mouth is watering, and you feel your neglected cunt leak as his cock springs free, hard and angry, so different from its owner. sunday is delicate, pure, and his length is swollen, veins leading to the oh so delicious mushroom tip.

sunday’s embarrassed: why are you staring at him? is his cock so horrid? why- oh.

he lets out a moan when your hand engulfs his dick, soft skin wrapped around his aching flesh, and sunday thinks lust has really taken over him. “please, let me-ah, lemme put this inside. need y-you!” and how can you say no?

you lean back, and sunday’s on you like a starved man - he knows he should lick your hole a bit more, maybe stick a finger or two in it, but he has long forgotten all the knowledge he got from some blooodhounds years ago. his tip prods at your small hole, and he worries about breaking you. can you take it? his sweet angel, you’re so perfect for him and he’s about to defile you - oh, he feels like he could cum just like this. tip pressed against your clit, both of your juices mixing together in a candied mix. he lowers his cock a bit, enough to be face to face with your entrance. the world stops when he slips it in: your pained moans, your walls fluttering shut around him, your tears staining your white sheets. sunday has ruined you, corrupted you with his lust, but now that he’s known how your cunt feels, he can’t get enough.

he moves, and his thrusts are messy, sloppy, inexperienced, his balls slapping and bruising your soft skin. sunday feels like he’s reached heaven, and he won’t stop. he can’t - you’re sucking him in so hard, so desperate to be fucked by your halovian companion. oh, you must be a pervert too, sunday realizes, letting a defiled angel like him taint you. but now you’re his, forever robbed of your purity and pride, and you’re not going anywhere.

“‘m gonna c-cum, ‘kay a-ah, angel? let me cu-uhm! in you, please? y’re g-gonna be ngh! a sweetheart, yeah? lemme claim your cunny, ‘kay?” sunday’s voice is slurred, words flowing out of his lips without his control. you nod, maybe even say something back, but sunday can’t hear you - you’re pussy’s the one he’s listening to right now. and she’s pleading so sweetly for sunday to cum in her. so, maybe you’re telling him no, that it’s risky, it’s wrong - but he’s not listening.

sunday empties his load deep in your pussy, kissing your cervix and womb with it, and he’s happy. he kisses you, poor you who’s all fucked out on your bed. don’t worry though, sunday will take care of you. it’s only natural - you’re bound together now, and maybe this realization is the reason you creamed so sweetly around his cock. he kisses you again, and you succumb yourself to him.

he’s happy, and he feels his cock twitch at the thought of doing this again. then, he’ll take his time tasting and ruining you again, and again, until he’s sure you won’t leave him: not for the avgin, not for the trailblazer, not for dan heng. you’re his, and he’s yours. forever.