ART OF THE BEDCHAMBER | Part 1
ART OF THE BEDCHAMBER | part 1
"Dual cultivation with you wouldn't be very useful. You might have extraordinary qi as a Vidyadhara, but it's sealed when you're in your human form." Dan Heng stares at your fingers, deliberates as you trace the invisible paths of his meridians. "Then," he says, "what about my dragon form?" (Or: Dan Heng dreads the thought of outliving you and will do anything to help you achieve immortality. If that means fucking you in his dragon form, then so be it.)
6.5k words. smut, fluff, established relationship, xianxia elements. semi-explicit sexual content (only with dan heng in his human form in this chapter, sorry). reader is gender neutral, afab — they have breasts and bomb pussy game. cultural notes: "yinyue jun" is the chinese equivalent for "imbibitor lunae". please see the end notes for information on cultivation. other notes: this is set pre-1.2. 风月 was based on this fic so some things may feel very familiar! network: @trailblazernet. MDNI.
When Dan Heng—in a rather unexpected move—fell in love with you, he didn’t foresee all the agony that would come with it.
Shockingly, you aren’t the direct cause of this agony: a remarkable fact, given your routine of pestering him for as many hours as the day will allow. Dan Heng often complains about your many inconvenient behaviours (e.g., trying to cuddle with him in the archives, trying to kiss him in the archives, trying to have sex with him in the archives), but to the amazement of his fellow trailblazers, he never actually does anything about it. After getting over his initial embarrassment at such public displays of affection (this took quite some time), he’s come to tolerate it.
You often like to tease him for his leniency, all playful smiles and lilting tones: You don’t have to act so shy, Dan Heng—I know you enjoy the attention. My Heng'er likes to be spoiled, huh?
He always rolls his eyes in response. Consider it a miracle that I haven’t kicked you out yet, he’ll usually say, flicking you on the forehead. He never tells you if he means kicking you out of the archives or if he means throwing you out of the Astral Express itself, right into the vacuum of space. (Most bystanders are astonished that the latter hasn’t happened yet. So are you.)
He also doesn’t tell you how wrong it feels when he isn’t listening to the background noise of your shameless flirting. Or how wrong it feels when he doesn’t get to humour you with a kiss every once in a while.
Which brings him to the root of the problem: the wrongness that he’s feeling right now. The emptiness of the archives without your laughter, the tasteless quality of his food when you’re not there to dine with him, the restlessness of trying to sleep without you—it’s all wrong, wrong, wrong. Wrong enough for it to be a little agonizing, now that he’s nearing one hundred and twenty days of this.
You often have to leave the Express for many months in a row, so Dan Heng is no stranger to these unsettling feelings. Neither are you. If I could spend more time with you, I would, you’d said before leaving last time—and the time before that, and the time before that, and the time before that. But I can’t avoid going into seclusion. It’s part of the whole Cultivator gig, y'know—gotta go to a mountain somewhere and meditate for a few months. That’s just the price of immortality if you’re a measly human. Then you’d given him a little smile, pecked him on the lips. Most people do it for years at a time, but I wouldn’t be able to leave you alone for so long.
The first time you’d pointed this out, Dan Heng was startled by the relief that flooded him. Vidyadharas have an intuitively different sense of time compared to human beings, and two or three years should feel like nothing to him: relative to the centuries he’d lived as his previous incarnation—or the decades as his current one—it would be only a fleeting moment.
But in your absence, it would feel like an eternity.
It surprises him how much he hates the crawl of time without you. Dan Heng had never before been a needy person: solitude and isolation had always been the norm for him, in a lifetime absent of human touch—first imprisoned from birth, then exiled from the first moment he got to see the sun. Even after leaving the Alliance, he hadn’t allowed himself to become particularly close with anyone: it would have been too complicated because of the sensitive matter of his past, and he simply didn’t feel deserving of it anyway. Nor was he in need of it.
Then he met you.
Then he met you, and he became accustomed to the sound of your laughter, and then your offhanded, warm touches, and then your smile as you sat in the blue glow of the archive floor and poured baijiu into everyone’s cups. (Scalding, bitter; you had laughed as he made a face and warmed up huangjiu specifically for him next time, and it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted.) And then he became accustomed to talking to you—to letting you unearth things he’d buried for decades, to revealing his suffering and receiving your compassion, to the gentle feeling of your hand on his shoulder. Then the tender, nervous look in your eyes, then the silky press of your lips, then the closeness of your unclothed body, and then the breathless warble of your voice—Dan Heng, I’m close, I’m so close, please—and then the euphoria of having you arch and fall apart so beautifully in his arms.
And then the afterglow. He hadn’t only grown used to that: he’d become addicted to it. Warmer and headier than huangjiu, something that he’d have never been able to imagine while growing up in the night-dark prison of his childhood.
Even the memory of his first taste of sunlight aboard the Luofu pales in comparison to the feeling of having you in his arms. The first time he’d had the privilege of holding you, he caught himself thinking: If paradise is but a dream, then I wish to sleep forever.
And now, each time he lies awake on his futon, alone except for the glow of artificial stars, Dan Heng becomes acutely aware of the emptiness left by your missing form.
He isn’t exactly deserving of your companionship. He knows that.
But he is in need of it.
After one hundred and twenty one days of seclusion, you are ready to return to the Astral Express.
Time moves differently when you cultivate behind closed doors. The act of such intense meditation and training distorts the flow of the world for you, makes entire months feel like days. Emerging from seclusion always comes with a certain anxiety: Are your friends well? Have they forgotten you? Has the Express continued its journey across the galactic railroad, or has some terrible event happened to your home—a supernova, a meteor shower, the destructive force of a stellaron?
And, most importantly: Did anyone murder your boyfriend while you were away?
There is at least one intergalactically wanted criminal who's tried to kill Dan Heng a number of times, and an entire alliance consisting solely of his haters. Half the reason you take your cultivation so seriously is to prepare for the inevitable day that someone is going to seriously attempt to murder him in front of you (probably the aforementioned criminal). You want to be strong enough to one-hit KO Arbiter-General Jing Yuan himself, if it ever comes down to it.
Of course, the downside is that the murder attempt might happen while you're off training, but you're hoping that March 7th and Caelus can cover for you in that case.
Still—while you have nothing in confidence in Caelus’ abilities (you adore March, but will not comment on hers), you sigh in relief when your phone begins to buzz.
> Are you out yet? We're on our way. > Get something to eat if you haven't yet. I'll make sure something is ready for you on the Express too. > I know you can practice inedia, but you're still a human at the end of the day. Please get something to eat as soon as possible.
No hello, no I missed yous, just plain, practical concern—as always.
You are not a practical person.
> GEGE! > GEGE GEGE GEGE > DAN HENG GEGE > come fast i want to kiss u > i'll die if u don't kiss me soon > i missed you!!!!!! > did you miss me??????
You can more or less imagine the expression on your (hopefully unharmed) boyfriend's face: deadpan exasperation. The first time you came out of seclusion during your relationship, you texted him no less than twenty times in a row from a new number, and he reflexively flagged it all as spam. He's since told you to tone down the double texting (and triple texting, and quintuple texting, and dectuple texting…), but always replies anyway.
> The Express is about to warp. We'll be there soon. > I'll do whatever you like, please just eat.
You watch as an ellipsis appears at the bottom of your chat window, then disappears, then appears again. When he finally sends his text, a smile stretches wide across your face.
> And yes, I thought of you the whole time you were gone.
With your return to the Express, you make Dan Heng engage in all your usual couple activities. Which is to say: you act disgustingly sweet with him and the other passengers experience varying degrees of shock and entertainment at his complacent behaviour.
You surprise him as he works in the archives, looping your arms around his waist and pressing against his back so you can whisper things into his ear: Gege, pay attention to me! or Dan Heng, can't you take a break now? or Heng'er, are you really going to ignore your lover like this? So cruel!
Dan Heng doesn't react during these moments, but he also doesn't push you away. Sometimes he'll shove a stack of books into your hands and say, If you have time to mess around like this, then you can work on digitizing these for me. You always agree, but wheedle a kiss out of him in exchange for your hard labour.
(Welt Yang walks in on one such kiss, coughs loudly, and walks back out. Dan Heng pulls away from your lips to stare at the door in abject horror.)
You give Dan Heng a number of books and films from your travels, and keep him company as he dives into them. He always gravitates toward the latest Xianzhou novels first, especially the ones that give mention to everyday life on the Luofu. You suppose that he's never been able to rid himself of his curiosity about the life that he'd been denied, enthralled by visions of night markets and starskiffs, teahouses and cross-talkers. You can see his longing in the crease of his brow, the softening of his eyes as he reads.
Seeing his wistful expressions, it is impossible to stop yourself from keeping him company. You press into his side, resting your head on his shoulder—something that will comfort him, you hope—and read alongside him. Sometimes the two of you fall asleep like that, wrapped up in each other on the archive floor.
(March 7th stumbles into one of these moments and can't help but snap a picture of the two of you. Dan Heng later pales when he sees your lock screen, where your slumbering, entwined forms are clearly visible.)
You often convince Dan Heng to have a proper, sit-down dinner with you in the dining car. He won't ever do it for food from the kitchens, preferring to eat in the archives instead, but he'll do it for food you cook together. The two of you enjoy your meals while watching the interstellar scenery roll by outside, stargazing at distant galaxies. Sometimes you savour the tangy-sweetness of tomato-egg stir fry (your handiwork); sometimes you enjoy the rich broth of delicately steamed xiaolongbao (your boyfriend's handiwork); sometimes the both of you sweat over the punishing numbing-spice of malaxiangguo (a combined effort and favoured couple's activity—right up there with building furniture).
The other passengers wave whenever they see you, impressed that Dan Heng has emerged from the archives. They joke as they greet you: I guess you're the only one that can pull him out of his cave!
(The older ones—Himeko especially—laugh and talk fondly about young love when they spot you. Dan Heng's expression stays as stoic as ever, but the tips of his ears go red and he accidentally burns his tongue trying to eat his own bao.)
You address Dan Heng with an astonishing number of pet names at an alarming frequency; your excuse is that you need to make up for the four months you couldn't call him anything. Mostly you call him 'Gege' in public, which he usually doesn't mind as it saves him considerable face relative to all the alternatives, but this changes when Caelus starts teasing him about it.
Morning, Gege, he starts saying at breakfast, drawing a long stare from Dan Heng. Gege, can you help me with finding these records? he asks whenever he strolls into the archives. Before expeditions, he starts turning to Dan Heng and using his most sugary voice: You'll protect me, right, Gege? And Dan Heng turns to Himeko to flatly state, I will not be held responsible if he dies.
Eventually, Caelus grows bold enough to join you both for dinner: Gege, he asks, do you want me to hand-feed you these noodles too?
Dan Heng replies by rising from his seat and walking straight out of the dining car.
(Your long-suffering boyfriend eventually says, during one of your reading sessions, that Caelus is quickly becoming unbearable with this new habit of his.
Well, you muse, since he’s just teasing you about the way I talk to you, I could stop calling you ‘Gege’.
Dan Heng stops. He looks almost hesitant, like he wants to protest, but his expression flattens into a deadpan when you continue: I could always call you 'baobei' instead. What, you don't like that? But Heng'er, you're my baobei, my xingan baobei, my little little apple and beloved husb—whoa!
You laugh hysterically as you dodge the book he chucks at you.)
Sometimes you do get him to reciprocate your actions. Shockingly—despite his reserved and conscientious disposition—you have the greatest success with this whenever you tease him while he's working. You find it works best to crawl into his lap and kiss at his jawline, whispering into his ear while he tries to focus on his screen.
I’m so pent up, Gege, you often start with. I've been trying to take care of myself, but my fingers aren't enough. You like to straddle his hips as you talk, grind a little if you think you can get away with it. You whine if you do, pressing your face into his neck—right beneath his clenched jaw. Won't you give me some attention? Just ten minutes on this desk is all we need.
Dan Heng can only ever endure about fifteen minutes of this before throwing you over his shoulder. You inevitably find yourself being flipped over in a fireman's carry, being lectured in a flat tone. I don't know where you get off lying like that, he usually comments as he makes his way to your room, ignoring your yelping and kicking. 'Ten minutes'? Every time you act like this, you end up taking up my whole evening.
(He does, in fact, spend the rest of his night in bed with you, making it clear that there is no need for you to ‘take care of yourself’ so long as he’s around.)
But despite all the grief you give Dan Heng with your public, grand displays of affection, your favourite moments with him are the private ones. The ones where you sit next to him on his futon, sharing a pair of earbuds and listening to the latest hits from the various worlds to which you’ve travelled. The ones where you make dumpling skins together during the quiet hours of the kitchen, flour dusting your fingers as you roll out the dough that Dan Heng has kneaded. The ones where you spend lazy mornings in bed together, Dan Heng holding you as you talk at length about nothing at all.
The ones where you pause in your long-winded ramble to find him staring at you, his gaze fond and fully attentive. Met with such tenderness, you have no choice but to lean in and kiss him, long and deep and smiling—and in the privacy of your room, your boyfriend is more than happy to return it.
Some weeks after you return to the Express, Dan Heng gives you a long look after one such moment and says, "You should spend more time with me."
You raise a brow. "Eh? I already spend plenty of time with you, Heng'er. I've been bothering you 24/7 now that I'm back on the Express… It's a wonder you aren't sick of me yet."
"Of course I'm not sick of you," he replies plainly. "I could never be."
The admission makes you blink. Heat prickles the back of your neck. It's not often that Dan Heng is so straightforward with his feelings.
"And I mean"—he looks away, the red paint along his waterline hidden by his lashes—"that it'd be nice if you didn't have to leave the Express so often. If you could stay here all year round."
You can't stop yourself from frowning. "You know I don't like leaving you, but I really don't want to compromise my training." Your fingers sweep gently at his brow, brushing away his hair. "I wanna be strong enough to protect you, Gege. After I get to that level, I promise I'll be around more often." Then you smile a little. "And if I'm lucky, I might even get a long life out of it!"
Dan Heng's brow dips. "A 'long life'? The whole point of cultivation is to achieve immortality, isn't it?"
"Sure, in theory. In practice, almost no human ever becomes immortal by these means. If cultivation were so easy, then people wouldn't turn to shortcuts like magical elixirs or blessings from Aeon Yaoshi." You purse your lips, voice starting to colour with derision. "Not that I'd ever be shortsighted enough to chase either of those things, mind you. I'd rather work hard, have a long and healthy life, and die and reincarnate properly if it comes to that. Immortality isn't worth the strife caused by any other method."
Dan Heng studies you closely, his eyes steadfast on yours. "Then… what do you consider a 'long life'?"
You hum, thinking. "If I don't slack off with my training, I have maybe eighty to a hundred years of youth before I kick the bucket."
"Eighty years?" Dan Heng's eyes go a little wide. You aren't used to seeing it.
"Yes?" You shift, fidgeting. "But that's only if I'm lucky. Pushing for anything more would be tough. I could undergo a qi deviation and die… or I might just not be talented enough to reach that stage of cultivation and pass away from natural causes… someone could also just kill me at any time, given my lifestyle. I've got a lot of options for dying, you know."
Dan Heng doesn't reply, nor does he look at you. It occurs to you that this whole conversation might be unsettling for him, given everything that's happened with the Xianzhou Alliance, with the matter of his past life and that vengeful monster he seems unable to kill. The mere thought of immortality must be painful for Dan Heng.
"I'm sorry, Gege," you say. "It's insensitive of me to talk about these things with you. Anyway—I'm not seriously trying to become an immortal, so you don't have to worry about me. I'm not looking to break any taboos."
Your lover gives you a long, unreadable stare before replying, "Right. Of course. Nothing good can come from the pursuit of immortality." Cinnabar paint flickers as he looks away. "Human life should be as morning dew—fleeting and ephemeral."
Dan Heng starts to behave strangely, after that. Quieter and withdrawn. Not just subdued in his affection, but absent in it.
When you bother him in the archives, he no longer scolds you or distracts you with any work—merely continuing with his tasks, completely immersed in them. When March 7th and Caelus tease him about his many pet names, he doesn't get flustered—only rolls his eyes and ignores them. When the other passengers catch sight of the two of you dining together and fondly comment on your relationship, he hardly reacts. He only continues eating, staring absently at his dish—usually something you've made, because he seems uninterested in eating anything else these days.
(Are you sure you don't want actual food from the kitchens instead? you ask once, studying what's supposed to be dough for fried breakfast buns. For whatever reason, you can't get the consistency right. The Express chefs are way better than me, you know.
No, he insists. You made it, so I want to eat it.
You don't need to be so polite!
I'm not being polite. He looks down at your fingers, dusted snow-white with flour. It's just what I want.)
You wrongly assume, for a little bit, that he's somehow lost interest in everything but your cooking. It only feels like the logical conclusion, especially when Dan Heng gets into the habit of ignoring you for most of the day despite your use of every trick in your arsenal—from kissing him to teasing him to begging him for sex. He simply tells you that he'll entertain you later, and is otherwise too deeply absorbed in his work to pay attention to you.
"Is something wrong, Dan Heng?" you eventually ask, voice small. "Is it that you don't feel the same way about me anymore? Do you want to break up?"
Dan Heng goes stock still when he hears this. Without saying a word, he puts down his tablet, locks the door, and kisses you long and hard. And then—for the first time in your relationship—he proceeds to actually fuck you in the archives. He rails you next to the terminal for the better part of an hour, forces an earth-shattering orgasm out of you that ruins the carbon-fibre surface you're laid out on, and then he fills you up to the point that his spend starts trickling down your thigh.
Hazy and fucked out, you wonder idly if it's dripping down onto the phosphorescent tiles below. Dan Heng will probably make a fuss about it, especially since this is technically a public space, and the terminal is its most high-traffic area. He'd have a stroke if anyone ever saw this mess.
When he stands up, you assume that he's getting right to cleaning, like usual. The guy can hardly ever relax.
You don't expect it when he gets onto his knees and puts his head between your thighs.
"Gege?" you say, solidly confused, but before you can ask him what he's doing, you feel the press of his tongue against your dripping entrance and then all you can do is moan.
By the time Dan Heng is done with you, the two of you are messy and breathless, collapsed and tangled up in each other on his makeshift bed.
You stare at the ceiling, mind whirring even in your exhaustion. It had been hard to process the situation while your boyfriend was railing every thought imaginable out of you—but now that he’s finally done, the shock is settling in.
Holy shit, you think, Dan Heng never gets this nasty. Something really is wrong!
You think of broaching the matter, but Dan Heng beats you to it. He turns to you, says, "I don't want to break up," and then gets back on top of you for another round.
You decide to put your foot down.
The next night, you invite Dan Heng into your bedroom. You're all business this time. There's no whining, no teasing, no Heng'er, you don't want to touch me? There are no desperate and indirect plays to get his attention while you simmer in anxiety about what he's hiding from you. (This change is not because of your own strength of mind—of which you have none, when it comes to your boyfriend—but because you're now sure you won't break up, whatever happens.) Instead, you seat him at your table and regard him with a firm expression.
You're careful to keep your voice gentle, but you still don't hesitate: "I know something's been bothering you, Dan Heng. Can we please talk about it?"
Dan Heng is prepared for the question. "I'm sorry I've been neglecting you," he says instantly. "It won't happen anymore. I'm very serious about our relationship, and I have no wish for it to end."
You know he's being earnest. After spending the rest of his night fucking you—slow and sweet in your bed, rather than the desperate way he'd done it in the archives—he'd woken up this morning and gone back to normal. Paid attention to you, paid attention to others, humoured your public displays of affection and initiated his own in private. Acted like the past two weeks never happened, and that nothing’s been weighing on his mind.
Were he anyone else, you'd assume that you're simply being strung along for sex, or perhaps being distracted by it. But Dan Heng isn't anyone else: he has absolutely no interest in physical intimacy without the emotional kind. He'd slept with you as an affirmation of his feelings for you. (He probably also did it because you kept begging to be fucked, but that's neither here nor there.)
Still, as much as you liked having your back blown out in the archives, semi-public sex isn't exactly a healthy way to deal with relationship problems.
"I know you'll be more mindful of my feelings now," you reply, "but I'd still like you to tell me what's been bothering you. I won't force it out of you, but if you did tell me, we could maybe fix it?"
"It is unfixable," he replies, "and not a problem to begin with. Simply the nature of things that I must accept."
His tone is neutral. Factual. Certain of the insignificance of whatever the issue is, even though you know that he's not the type to be bothered by insignificant things.
You frown, confused. "If it's the nature of things, then it won't hurt for me to know."
Dan Heng isn't looking at you anymore, instead fixated on the view beyond your window. Peering at the many moons of this galaxy, he finally relents: "'The night-blooming cereus flowers only once.' This is how Vidyadharas describe human life."
You consider his words, contemplating the bittersweet air of the idiom.
"Because human life feels ephemeral to you?" you discern.
"Yes. The lifespan of a human is but a fraction of ours. It's never bothered me before, but"—he's finally looking at you now, and his expression guts you—"four months without you feels unbearable. I can't imagine four centuries."
You go quiet.
Dan Heng is right: this is the nature of things. Skilled as you might be, you aren't likely to be one of those rare few humans who can ascend to immortality without Yaoshi's fruit. He’ll likely need to spend the better part of his life without you, and then every lifetime thereafter. Such is the reality for a Vidyadhara choosing to love a short-life species.
“...I’m sorry, Dan Heng,” is all you can bring yourself to say, but he shakes his head.
“There is no need for you to apologize," he says plainly. "I should have prepared myself for this eventuality when I chose to commit myself to you. It cannot be helped."
Dan Heng loves this phrase, you think to yourself. It cannot be helped that I had to live alone for so many years. It cannot be helped that I was exiled from my home. It cannot be helped that I was punished for the sins of Yinyue Jun.
It cannot be helped that you will someday leave me.
A splinter digs into your heart. You reach out, squeeze his hand, and wish that you could do more.
"It cannot be helped," you agree, "but that doesn't make it any less painful."
Dan Heng does not speak, but the way that he closes his eyes is enough of a reply. No matter how unfeeling he makes his voice, his pain is evident.
You wait for him to collect himself. Listen to his breaths—deeper than usual, meditative, reflective. There is hesitation in his eyes when he finally looks at you. A weakness that he only ever shows at night, after waking from a terrible dream.
"...I know it's a cruel thing to ask of you," Dan Heng eventually says, and the bitter edge to his words surprises you, "and perhaps a sign that this soul of mine will never change in its sins, no matter how many times it is reborn—but is there no way for us to spend a life together?"
You forget how to breathe.
What he's asking you is not just heretical for him—it's traumatic. An echo of the crime he'd committed in his past life, the tragedy that marked him for suffering in this one. He must be desperate for an answer if he's voicing the question at all.
You struggle as you think through your options.
"Seeking out the Peaches of Immortality is out of the question," you start. "And Sanctus Medicus is just a bunch of nutjobs—no way could they make me immortal. Demonic cultivation is another Path, but I don't think you'd like the thing I'd become by the end of it."
A brilliant river of stars streams past the window, like the one in that ancient folktale about the bridge of magpies. You can see the reflection of your lover's face in the window: muted, sorrowful, already mourning you. And of course he's mourning you long before your death, with how much he'd lost long before his birth.
Oh, Heng'er, you think, even if I drank from Meng Po's bowl and lost every memory of you, I'd still find my way back to you in my next life.
It would be too cruel to say aloud, so you remain quiet—merely staring at the galaxy before you, hoping quietly to see some kind of bridge.
Then a nearby sun flickers, and you remember something.
"...I guess there is another option," you say slowly, "but I can't imagine you being happy with it."
He straightens up. "What is it?"
"Well…" You take a deep breath. "Sometimes people practice dual cultivation as a way to extend their life. It's quite safe, but would be difficult given our relationship."
Dan Heng stares. "What exactly does it entail?"
"Well… it's basically cultivating by having sex. If I slept regularly with an immortal being with highly refined qi, I could probably exchange energy with them and achieve longevity that way." You make a face at the thought. "But it's not exactly easy to find an immortal who'd want a lifelong friend with benefits… and I'd really rather not have sex with anyone other than you, anyway."
It would probably make him miserable.
You're surprised when Dan Heng looks thoughtful, rather than disturbed. He studies you for a long moment, considering.
"Vidyadharas are immortal," he says, "and the qi of a High Elder is much more powerful than that of any other species. Is it not helping that we're already coupling so often?"
"Not really." You reach out across the table, hold out your palm, and he knows to give you his hand. You turn it over, tracing a finger along the length of his wrist. "Dual cultivation with you wouldn't be very useful. You might have extraordinary qi as a Vidyadhara, but it's sealed when you're in your human form."
You feel for the warm glow of his meridians, even though you already know what you'll find—an ordinary, unremarkable life force coursing through his body.
Dan Heng doesn't seem discouraged, though, when you look back up at him. Only curious.
"Then," he says, "what about my dragon form?"
It doesn't end up being very straightforward.
For a full ninety minutes, Dan Heng sits in your room and listens to you discuss the mechanics of dual cultivation, also known traditionally as the 'art of the bedchamber'. As its name would suggest, there are quite a few nuances and technical considerations involved: different positions enhance your qi in different ways; certain acts are more useful than others; mutual pleasure must be attained for the greatest possible benefit.
It isn't just a lecture that you give him. You take out one of your cultivation manuals and show him various diagrams and poses. You whip out your tablet and visit "questionable websites" for "video demonstrations". You quiz him intensively at the end of each unit.
At around the seventy-minute mark, you catalogue Dan Heng's expression—thousand yard stare, stiff posture, red ears—and decide that you're overwhelming him. So you tell him the most important takeaway, which is that one thing he must absolutely do is—
"—finish inside you?"
"Mhm." You sound completely unbothered. "As much as possible. And as many times as possible."
He gives you a long, blank stare, and then crosses his arms. "...all of this is just a ploy to get me to do one of your favourite things in bed, isn't it."
"What? No! I wouldn't lie to you about something like this, Gege!" You're being truthful. Though your sex drive can sometimes drive you to try insane things, it never drives you to be cruel. "I'm being dead serious right now. This really will extend my life. Those cultivation manuals were proof!"
Dan Heng considers you. "You're right. You wouldn't lie about something like this."
"Thank you."
"You're already so shameless about begging for it—I don't think you'd see the need to come up with an excuse."
Wow.
"...okay, yes, but you're also pretty shameless about giving in."
Dan Heng clears his throat, and you try not to laugh. "Well, I've never had a reason not to, since we don't need to worry about pregnancy…" He tries very, very hard to assume some semblance of dignity as he deflects: "Anyway. I think I understand the gist of it. You more or less want me to do the usual things."
"Yes—but while you're in your original form, of course."
"Right." His eyes narrow, and his expression becomes uncertain: something you've only seen a handful of times. "...I do need you to know that taking that shape… complicates things. There is a reason why my powers are usually sealed."
You nod. You've known for a while now that Dan Heng hates invoking his Vidyadhara powers—he considers it as taboo as much as a Xianzhou native would. Truthfully, it did occur to you some time ago that exchanging qi with a dragon would make your cultivation progress leaps and bounds, but after learning about how much he despises that form of his, you'd scrapped the whole idea and put it out of mind.
You're surprised that he's even consenting to this, all things considered.
Noticing the tension in his body, you leave your teaching set-up (tablet, an annotated cultivation manual, and smartboard with various stick figures you've drawn) to rest a hand on his shoulder.
"I don't know if we have to worry about that. The Alliance only sealed Vidyadhara powers due to historical reasons relating to the Sedition, right?" you try to console him. "Rather than anything to do with your nature in this lifetime, I mean. You aren't inherently dangerous."
You can see the conflict in his eyes; your words run exactly counter to everything he must have heard while imprisoned on the Luofu.
"I don't know," Dan Heng finally says, "but for better or worse, things are still different when I take my true shape. I'm no longer used to it." He frowns a little. "The amount of power feels overwhelming to me now. It's fine in normal circumstances, but—" He struggles for a moment. "...I don't know how I'll behave in… these circumstances with you."
"Ah, I see. You're worried that you won't be able to control yourself while fucking you're me, huh?"
He gives you a disgruntled look. "Do you have to use such crass language?"
"Sorry, Gege. I'll try to speak eloquently like you: Yinyue Jun may fall to his base instincts once he's crossed the threshold of the chrysanthemum gate, right?"
His expression turns from disgruntled to disdainful. Evidently, he's not a fan of your erotica novel slang.
"Please be serious for once. We need to be careful if we do this. I might behave impulsively—do something rash. Accidentally hurt you."
You hum, considering his words. "That's surprising. I thought dragons were generally supposed to be pretty calm and wise…" Then you think about how you couldn't walk this morning. "Though I guess you weren't particularly calm yesterday."
He snorts. "Well, I usually am. Unfortunately, I find it exceptionally hard to control myself around you, with how much you like to provoke me," he says plainly. "It'll just get worse if I switch forms."
You try not to stare at him, shocked at how unbothered he is by these admissions. You suppose that multiple rounds of semi-public sex might have forced him to cross an event horizon of shame, and now his face is finally getting thicker.
"It isn't just my behaviour I'm worried about," he continues. His arms cross again, and his brow furrows. "You might find my form… unattractive. You probably won't like it."
You frown. "I can't imagine that. I bet the real Cold Dragon Young is super handsome."
It's a testament to his anxiety that he hardly reacts to your stupid comment. He just studies you carefully, uncertain. Apprehensive.
"I guess we'll find out."
END PART 1
notes: for those unfamiliar, this fic is set in the same universe as fengyue. fengyue was actually based on this fic, but due to my inability to manage deadlines, it came out way ahead of this LOL
i'm sorry there was no dragonfucking in this part when i have been promising dragonfucking for ages on this blog. but i am 12.5k words into part 2 and i can assure you that there is an excessive amount of incredibly nasty dragonfucking in it, so please look forward to that
this was written way before 1.2 came out (and in fact, before I had even caught up to 1.1 content). hopefully the characterization still holds up ok!
big, big thank you to @petrichorium for helping me navigate canon lore and riffing w me on this piece. please go check out their works, they have banger star rail content!
cultural notes:
cultivation is the practice of using martial and spiritual arts to cultivate one’s qi, gain spiritual powers, and attain immortality
dual cultivation is the act of refining your qi through having sex
I will be honest. I cannot remember the other cultural refs I dropped because I just kind of blindly write them in so please let me know if you have any questions about things LOL
translation notes:
gege is a term meaning "older brother", though it is often used for non-familial relationships that are very close; it can come off as either flirty or childish. heng'er is a diminutive of dan heng's name.
“If paradise is but a dream, then I wish to sleep forever” - this was a reference to the chinese version of dan heng’s ult line. in english, he says “this sanctuary is but a vision”. however, in chinese, he says “洞天幻化，长梦一觉” which is closer to something like “paradise is an illusion, reveals itself to be a long dream”
"The night-blooming cereus flowers only once" - this is how I rendered the idiom "曇花一現", which describes thing that are short-lived
"Human life should be as morning dew" - this is how I rendered the idiom "人生如朝露", which describes the ephemeral nature of human life
yes I really made dan-gege break out the chengyu and poetic speech... I'm not sure how he sounds in english but my man has his super literary moments in chinese haha
More Posts from Pandora-n1ghts and Others
There’s A String Tied to My Lower Left Rib, Third From The Bottom
dick grayson x afab!reader
aka the professional boyfriend
warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader wears dresses, sexual content at the end (18+)
Dick Grayson is a vigilante. He’s a master martial artist and gymnast. He’s something of a playboy and a heavy flirt. But the claim he really takes pride in is that he’s basically a professional boyfriend. That he’s your professional boyfriend.
And pride really is the right word. He’s so proud that he gets to have this pretty girl on his arm and buy her pretty things even when you insist you have enough. He loves getting to help you take your makeup off when you’re too tired and make you laugh like it’s his job. He’s absolutely gratified that he gets to be your prodigal, sweet boyfriend that, despite your protests, insisted on carrying all five of your shopping bags for you.
You step over an uneven stretch in the sidewalk and lean slightly against Dick’s shoulder. “I’m worried the navy one is too…much.” You say, thinking back to how the blue cocktail dress fit on you, how it stopped barely below your ass.
He furrows his eyebrows with a pout, “Too much?”
You look over at him, matching his expression. “It’s really short. I mean it’s cute and I like it, but…I don’t know, this is kind of a fancy event isn’t it?”
He puckers his lips, shaking his head. “Short’s good. I like short.” Yeah, you’d noticed with the way his eyes had been glued to the hem of your dress, willing it to slip up just a little more.
You laugh, “And I’m sure you and all the old businessmen will appreciate it greatly.”
His face drops at that, not thrilled at the prospect of those, usually very sleazy, old men getting to see so much of you. “The black one’s good too.”
You peer over into one of the bags, “Or there’s the red one with the—”
Dick shakes his head quickly, “Not red.”
You snicker at that, knowing full well what his problem is with it. “Then why did I get it?”
“Just for me.” He pauses, “Or for something my brother won’t be at.” He mumbles, scanning both sides of the street. He shuffles the bags in his right hand onto his forearm so he can take your hand in his as you step into the road. “No, the black one looked great on you. And we won’t have to go searching for a matching tie.”
Once you reach the other side he lets go of your hand and he circles behind you, nudging you over to the inside of the sidewalk.
You glance down at the row of bags littering his arms and the red indents beginning to mark his skin. “Will you please let me hold some?” You frown.
“Will you please hold my hand?” He echoes, matching your serious tone with faux urgency of his own. You deadpan him but take his hand anyway. You don’t notice it, but he’s got a dedicated gaze focused on your fingers intertwined in his.
You continue on down the street, hand in hand, the warm sun shining on your necks. You pick up the pace a bit as you approach your apartment building, aiming to get the door for your boyfriend. You reach for the handle only for Dick to call out, “Don’t touch that!” followed by him clamoring like you’re about to touch a hot coal, rushing over to beat you to the punch.
“Oh my god..” you mumble to yourself, biting back a smile. The bags haphazardly fall further down his arms, no doubt uncomfortably as he pulls the door open for you, pretending to be far more eloquent than he actually was. He gestures you in and smiles sweetly at you when you give him a flat look.
“What is wrong with you?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at him with amusement glittering across your face as you dig for your keys.
“Not a thing.” He grins, watching with adoration as you open the apartment door. Frankly, you’re surprised he didn’t attempt to juggle the bags and unlock the door himself.
He kicks the door shut behind him as you help slide the bags off of his wrists, piling them on the counter. “When do we need to leave?”
“Uh…” he glances at the wall clock, “Not till seven.” He places his hands nicely on your waist, looking down at your lips. “You wanna get something to eat before we go?”
You muse, “This is the one with those mini stakes, isn’t it?” He nods. “No, I wanna get my fill on those. Oh, and the bruschettas! I love these caterers.”
His eyes flicker back up to meet yours, a sly smile playing on his lips.
You break away from his gaze and turn to the counter, preparing to scoop the shopping bags up when you’re interrupted by his relentless fervor.
“Ah, ah.” He hooks a finger into the loop of your jeans, tugging you back to him. “Give me a kiss.”
“Dick.”
“Just one.” Yeah, right. You oblige him though, pushing up on your toes to meet his lips. His thumb strokes your cheek as he kisses you deeply. You break the kiss after a moment only for him to chase your lips to follow it up with another. And then another. And another. He hums against your lips, smiling wide. “Thank you, baby.”
You pull back again and smile as you stop his chest with your hand when he follows. “Ah, I’m not new around here. I know where this’ll go if I let you.”
He nods complaisantly, “Then let me.” His eyes are focused on the small space between you, where his touch lingers along your ring finger. You lean up again and place a kiss on his forehead that has him getting hopeful, only to be met with disappointment when you back away from him, bags in hand. He throws his head back with a groan just to really hammer home the severity of his dismay.
It doesn’t last too long though because the second you’re back in the room he’s trailing after you like a puppy, following you down to the couch. You roll your eyes at him when he opts to sit ridiculously close to you, though there’s a ghost of a smile on your lips that makes your act lose all credibility.
He nestles his face into the crook of your neck and is clearly very pleased when you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You exhale contentedly, resting your cheek against his head. You lie idle like that for a few minutes, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck and casting a daydreaming gaze out the window. And apparently, he was daydreaming too.
“I wanna marry you.” He murmurs into your neck after a while.
You laugh incredulously, “Have you been drinking when I have my back turned?”
“‘M serious.” He nudges you off him so he can look at you.
You hum, sweeping his hair back from his forehead. “You’re being very…” you scrunch up your mouth to the side, “…Ostentatious today.”
He barks out a laugh, “Wow. Word-A-Day teach you that one?”
You shove at his forehead back with no real force, biting back a giggle. His eyes flicker back and forth between your mouth and the crinkle in your eyes as he grins. “I’m going to let that one go because you got me some really nice clothes today. As your repayment.” you say, running your finger over his lips.
He takes your hand, pressing a firm kiss to it. “Let me marry you?”
You sigh bashfully, “Dick—”
“Please?” He sticks his bottom lip out and gives you his puppy eyes, causing you to avert your gaze quickly. You’re not convinced he doesn’t have a superpower in that area.
You know he’s not really proposing right now, he’s too much of a romantic to do it like this. He’s just getting the idea in your head, getting you excited about it. It’s working.
“I’d be such a good husband to you.” He kisses your collarbone, “So good.” He murmurs against your skin, lips never departing. You struggle to keep your face neutral, making a point of closing your eyes in an attempt to increase your odds of success. He’s being nice though, you know. To let you play pretend right now when you know he could break your facade in a second if he really wanted to.
“Mrs. Grayson…” he squeezes your hips, lips traveling further down. “Doesn’t that sound pretty?”
It really does. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about marrying him before. He’s nothing if not husband material and honestly you really really want to hear him call you his wife. Call him your husband.
Your hand moves to his hair, petting it softly as he goes on. “Buy you a nice ring. Pretty white dress ‘n a big party just for you.” He brushes your shirt up and trails open mouthed kisses down your stomach. Your chest feels warm and you can feel your pulse thrumming all throughout your body.
He slowly guides your underwear down your thighs, his lips following the hem close behind. “Come home to you every night, kiss these pretty thighs,” He scoops both of your hands up in one of his, pinning them to your stomach. “Kiss this pretty pussy.” He places a chaste kiss on your clit and looks up at you expectantly.
You’re not nearly as hesitant on this as you’re pretending to be, and you both know it. But he’s perfectly fine with begging a little while you pretend you’re not lightheaded at the idea of marrying him. “I’ll think about it…”
He grins at you before going in on your core without mercy.
He’s trying real hard to land that promotion.
🩵 reblogging = supporting; likes don’t do the job
the bit you wrote about sakura and how he would stick out his hand and it being "a silent and nervous plea for you to come and hold his hand" had me AWWWWWWING.
THATS SO FREAKING CUTE I CANTTT, love how you write him :)))
original post here! sfw, 700 word count.
my beautiful nonnie you are so sweet and i love u for sending this ask so i wrote this lil blurb for you ! <3 thank you :>
"huh? sakura?"
he wishes he never chose to stick his hand out the second he turns around to meet your gaze, heart thumping wildly against his chest when he sees the way you’ve tilted your head a bit, innocent eyes staring into his as you wait for an explanation. “what are you doin-”
“f-forget it!” his words stumble out of his mouth before you finish your sentence, palms clammy as he shoves them deep inside his pockets, pace quickening as he turns and walks away.
it was unlike him to do something like that in the first place. you’ve always been the one to initiate things like this, never failing to bring a furious blush to his face with each act of affection you shower him with. he doesn’t know what came over him in that moment… or how you were even supposed to understand his silent plea in the first place, but he’s confident that he wouldn’t be able to handle the dizzying heat in his head getting any worse than it already was now.
“wait!” your voice cuts through the air, and he finds himself slowing down his pace for you before he even realizes it. with how close your footsteps sound, he knows he doesn’t have enough time to fight this persistent blush. he can feel the heat continue to spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears at the thought of you holding him—
“…you okay? sakura?”
the sound of your voice pulls him out his thoughts, and it takes him a second, a couple more blinks to realize that you’re now directly in front of him, face inches away from his to inspect his expression with a curious hum.
there’s a strangled noise of surprise from him before he’s jerking back violently, sleeve coming to hide the bottom half of his face as he gasps. when did you get so close? he pushes his nose against his forearm, seeking some sort of comfort from his makeshift shield. a part of him hopes it’s enough to mask the embarrassment written all over his face, but deep down, he knows that it’s pointless with you.
“you did that because you wanted me to hold your hand, right? sorry, i didn’t get it at first…” you continue with a giggle, and he only manages a weak nod, words stuck in his throat as he forces himself to remember to breathe.
“i—” he tries to speak, but his voice catches in his throat again. it seems to be enough of a confirmation for you though, because you stick your hand out with a cheerful smile. “it’s okay. give me your hand, sakura. let’s go.”
his breath hitches in his throat when he hesitantly takes his hands out from the bottoms of his pockets, laying it lightly on yours. the feeling of your fingers interlacing with his right after has his stomach turning inside out, and he tears his gaze from you when he catches a quick glimpse of the soft smile you’re giving him.
the walk home by your side is painful, to say the least. his mind is stuck on how nice your hands feel against his, and he’s just trying to walk straight at this point. each step is more of a challenge than the last, stiff and forced— and he thinks it’s because his mind has been consumed by the thoughts of you and the overwhelming emotions swirling inside him.
he feels so warm.
“hey, sakura…?” your voice breaks the silence, and he stiffens at the subtle change in your tone, his mind beginning to race right away. was he too harsh earlier? did he push you away? his heart sinks at the thought. he just wants to be closer to you, to be someone who can reciprocate the affection you shower him with so easily, but he struggles to let his guard down.
“..what?” he blurts out, words tinged with hesitation. his heart pounds loudly against his chest as he waits for your next words, unsure of what to expect.
“did you want a kiss too while we’re at it?” the smile he’s so familiar with returns to your face, and the world seems to stop as he processes your question.
WEAK SPOT. (SIDE-B)
Read the FIRST PART with Umemiya Hajime, Sakura Haruka, Tomiyama Choji, Togame Jo, and Takiishi Chika here! SYNOPSIS : They may be unassuming, but they’re plenty scary. There’s just one who can make them bend. FEATURING : Suo Hayato, Kiryu Mitsuki, Hiragi Toma, Kaji Ren, Endo Yamato x f!reader NOTES : Hello my loves, come get your daily dose of Wind Breaker fluff. This is the last part of my Weak Spot series :-) I also expanded on the Endo ask I got in my inbox here because it just fits :-D TAGLIST: @kaiser1ns
SUO HAYATO
No one has ever one-upped Suo Hayato.
He has always showed up with his clothes ironed and pressed, hair neatly combed handsomely, exuding an aura so effortlessly calm and gentle. But everyone knows that someone with such an even temper is usually the most dangerous person in the room, and no one has ever dared to mess with the sharp tongued boy.
To his friends, though, he’s more like a playful sibling, always teasing everyone with a smile on his face. In an act of revenge, most of his friends have tried to tease him back, only to fail miserably. Nothing has ever managed to fluster Suo Hayato, not even when he showed up to Café Pothos hand in hand with you.
He’s unaffected by the disbelieving stares he got from his friends, ushering you to sit down before he takes his own seat next to you, immediately holding your hand again in a naturally swift motion that causes you to blush.
“What?! Who?!” Sakura chokes out, and you feel a bit worried for the boy because of how red his face is starting to get.
“Ah, everyone, meet my girlfriend.” Suo breaks the news like he’s telling everyone what he ate last night. Even his friends are more flustered than he is, but they tried hard to make you feel comfortable by quickly including you in the conversation, asking you questions about your relationship with Suo. Thanks to your friendly nature, they seem to grow comfortable around you fairly quickly, all of you chatting and laughing away while eating. All the while, your boyfriend is watching the scene unfold serenely, drinking tea like a nobleman.
“So, who asked the other one out?” Comes the question from Kiryu who is now invested in your stories. His friends nod enthusiastically next to him, curious about the answer as well.
“Me, of course.” Suo answers coolly.
“Was he nervous during the whole thing?” Nirei unknowingly leans closer, gripping his little notebook with one hand and a pencil on the other.
“Yes! He was so cute!” Your reply elicits gasps of disbelief all around the table, and your boyfriend tilts his head to you, smiling.
“Was I? I don’t think I was nervous at all, though?” His friends are now unsure who to believe. Surely you wouldn’t lie, but they just can’t picture Suo being nervous. With his effortlessly suave personality, surely he would be like a casanova..?
You raise an eyebrow. “Huh? But you totally were! Don’t you remember blushing after I kissed you like this?” Leaning closer, you peck him in the cheek sweetly, letting your lips linger a few moments longer before pulling away.
Everyone can tell that he’s trying to keep up his calm facade, but the twitch on his lips and the way warmth starts to spread on his cheeks are proof that he definitely didn’t expect you to do that in front of his friends. He opens his mouth to defend himself, but all that comes out is a choked “I-I-” before he is stunned back into silence.
You smile as Kiryu breaks into laughter, followed by Sakura, Nirei, and Tsugeura. The Suo Hayato, Mr. Not-A-Single-Hair-Out-Of-Place even after beating up miscreants, is now running a hand through his hair, trying to hide his blush with a stupid smile plastered on his lips.
KIRYU MITSUKI
Kiryu Mitsuki is a natural charmer, that much is clear. He’s the kind of guy who takes care of his appearance and has a gentle disposition, which makes him popular with the girls. He’s also good at fighting, and no girls can resist that kind of guy.
So when he asks you out, it feels like a dream.
You worry about whether he finds you attractive or not. Sure, he literally asked you to be his girlfriend, but you can’t help feeling self-conscious when your boyfriend is every girls’ type.
You mention this casually to Suo and Tsugeura when your boyfriend went to use the restroom with Sakura and Nirei, but the two boys only laugh. “Really, you have nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing.” Suo says with a knowing smile, “I take it you’ve never seen his phone, then?” You shake your head no, his words leaving you even more puzzled.
Tsugeura adds to the mystery by nodding his head to what his friend said. “You’re really pretty! I’m sure Kiryu thinks the same way.” When you question him how he’s so sure about it, he answers with a “I just know.”
“Hey, rather than torturing yourself over it, why don’t you pay attention to his phone?”
That is the last hint Suo left you, and now you are walking home with your boyfriend next to you. You steal glances at him. Should you really take a look at his phone? But what’s in there anyway?
Kiryu notices you staring at him. “Hmm? Are you cold?” He slips his jacket from his arms and throws it over your shoulders, effectively warming both your body and your face.
You blush furiously as he chuckles at your flustered state. “T-Thank you, Mitsuki-kun..” Okay, this is not bad, although you’re still curious about his phone. Glancing over to him again, you try to find where he keeps his phone.
Once again, he notices you staring and mistakes it for another thing. “Oh, sorry. Do you want to hold hands?” He smiles, not waiting for a reply as he reaches for your hand and gently holds it.
You blush again. The universe must’ve heard your plea because his phone suddenly beeps. He takes it out of his pocket mindlessly, unaware that you instantly hyper-focused on the gadget, carefully eyeing it. What the heck is on his phone?
His screen lights up and your breath immediately gets caught in your throat. His wallpaper is a picture of you… but it’s a picture you’ve never seen before. It’s a picture of you writing something in full concentration taken from the front and totally without your knowledge. It’s edited, too, with heart emojis around your face and squiggly doodles adorning the sides of the photo. A neat “mine” is scribbled on the bottom right in Kiryu’s handwriting.
You snuggle up to him and a clueless Kiryu smiles, releasing your hand to drape an arm around your shoulder, bringing you close.
HIRAGI TOMA
Hiragi can’t help the way his face looks. You’ve told him many times that he needs to relax and take it easy, but how can he ‘take it easy’ when he needs to babysit the entirety of Bofurin, including the leader himself?
His anxiety skyrockets with the arrival of the troublemakers (aka the new first years) and now he’s too nervous to be wearing any other expression than the one that’s on his face right now: eyebrows knitted, lips pursed in a thin line, eyes narrowed. He’s always been a scary guy, but now he looks scarier. Even the biggest troublemaker, Sakura, is trembling a bit.
After giving him an earful, Hiragi gulps a pill down his throat before sauntering his way to you. He sighs and sinks next to you as your hand automatically makes its way to his hair. You play with them, feeling your boyfriend turn putty in your hands as he sinks more into your touch.
“Toma-kun, don’t be too harsh on them~”
“What, are you their mom now?” Hiragi gruffly replies, but he’s not at all intimidating when he practically has his head on your shoulder now.
“I guess so!” You giggle, “We can be their parents. I mean, you act like their dad already.”
He blushes at your comment and is about to say something when Sakura and Suo spot him. He instantly jolts back to a sitting position, blushing to the tips of his ears as if he’s been caught doing something embarrassing.
You chuckle, knowing that he’s too late. You can tell his underclassmen have already seen the public display of affection by the way one of them is blushing and the other one is grinning from ear to ear.
“W-What?!” He barks once they’re close enough.
Suo hands him his phone, still with a grin on his face, as Hiragi quickly takes it from him. He’s terrified when you start patting his head again and the two boys’ responses grow in exaggeration.
After weighing his options, though, he decides that your touch yields more benefit, so he leans back into you, ignoring the rest of the troublemaking first years who are now starting to gather around his table.
KAJI REN
Kaji Ren tries not to be an emotional person. Oftentimes he succeeds in doing so as his friends know him as a calm, responsible guy they can lean on in times of need. He genuinely thought that he’s been getting better at keeping his emotions in check. But of course, he has his slip ups. He has a list of the things he absolutely loathes, and one of them is people who mess with his stuff. Another one is people who ask him to do trivial shit. Oh, there’s another good one: vague people who don’t tell him outright what they want and beat around the bush.
Try as he may, he usually ends up glaring daggers at the idiot who bothers him with the things above, frightening enough to make them run.
“Ren-kun, I forgot my earphones at home..”
A simple pout is all that it took for Kaji to remove his headphones and place it on your ears before opening his phone and switching the song that is currently playing to the one he knows you like. You smile and thank him, head bobbing to the music.
After a few minutes of walking in comfortable silence, you tug at the sleeves of his hoodie, making him pause in his tracks and turn to look at you. “I’m cold.” You grin sheepishly. Kaji sighs but takes off his hoodie anyway, pulling it over his head before putting it on you. You fiddle with the long sleeves of his hoodie before placing his headphones back on your ears, your body now enveloped with the scent of your boyfriend’s cologne.
Momentarily satisfied, the two of you continue walking. You’re now humming along to the song, your arms swinging with every step you take, as Kaji matches your pace, now only dressed in his shirt and pants. The heat is stinging his skin and the noisy drones of the cicadas are buzzing in his ears, but he pays it no mind, his face relaxing upon seeing your happy state.
But you stop walking again, now holding out your hand. “Ren-kun.”
Kaji doesn’t even miss a step, taking your hand in his as you immediately resume walking, a happy smile on your face. You touch his shoulder with your head, a simple gesture of affection, and he returns it by softly kissing the top of your head, making you giggle in delight.
All is well in Kaji’s world.
(Behind the two of you, Hiragi and Umemiya are gawking at the sight. Next to them, Kusumi and Enomoto are unaffected, already used to their captain and his girlfriend’s dynamics by now.)
ENDO YAMATO
People often ask you why you’re even with Endo Yamato. Sure, he’s hot, but that hardly makes up for his shitty personality. They think you’re pressured into dating him, or manipulated by him. No matter how much you explain it, they already have their prejudices, so you cease to care. They have no idea that Endo is anything but shitty when he’s with you.
“Babe, baby, baaaa-beeeeeyy, look at what I got~”
Your face instantly brightens up when you see Endo walking your way, waving his arms cheerfully. You wait until he’s close enough to engulf you in a bear hug, placing small kisses on your forehead before he lets go, satisfied.
“What did you get?”
He grins. The next thing you know, his hand is in front of your face. You squint in confusion before noticing something. Your name.
Your name, inked around his ring finger.
“You did not—!” Shocked, you cover your mouth with your hands, a blush creeping its way to your cheeks.
“I did.” Endo shrugs, “Aw, are you shy?” He tries to pry away your hands, “It’s proof that I love you~”
“You’re so dumb!” But the twinkle in your eyes betrays you. “Doesn’t it hurt? Why didn’t you get it somewhere else?”
Both of you pause, with Endo raking his gaze all over his body. “Well…. I tried almost every spot, but.. Wait. Don’t tell me you didn’t realize it.” He deadpans, placing his hands on his hips.
“Huh? Realize what?” You parrot back, confused.
“This!” He gestures to his neck in exasperation. “Realize this!”
Once again, you squint.
“Helloo? My infinity symbol?”
You tilt your head.
Endo slaps his forehead. “It symbolizes eternal love, you doofus. Man, I did this for you and you didn’t even realize it? This is truly the downside of being infatuated.”
“Oh!” You finally understand that he’s gesturing at the infinity symbol tattooed on his neck, “I thought that was for… you know, for Takiishi-kun.”
Endo narrows his eyes as your gaze trails down to the ground. After a moment’s silence, you feel a finger under your chin, forcing it up to meet your boyfriend’s burning gaze. “Hey. I dare you to say that again.”
You purse your lips, but this is just the beginning of Endo’s rant.
“How many times should I tell you? He might be my muse, but you?” He hungrily kisses you, using his free hand to hold the back of your head and pull you closer to him. When he pulls away, he stares at you with his blue eyes, as if daring you to challenge his love again. “You’re my goddess.”
And now, looking at him; eyes impossibly gentle, lips slightly parting open and close to catch his breath, his hand lodged around your head, your name around his ring finger and the infinite love painted on his neck—
“Aah, now I kinda want to see my name tattooed on you. Wanna do that for me, babe?”
You might just believe him.
🍊clementines.
synopsis. kiryu’s hiding something and suo knows what.
contains. fluff. all characters are 19. for some reason they’re all line cooks?? don’t ask.
note. this blog is 18+. mdni. my crush on him is getting real bad if im out here writing fluff for this idiot. UGH!
the tips of kiryu’s fingers smell of clementines in the morning.
it’s odd. unusual. suo points out that lately his blunt cut manicured fingernails are tinged in yellowed hues and all kiryu does in response is smile. sakura’s brows furrow. nirei’s mind wanders. however, the thought is fleeting, so as quickly as it comes, it leaves to make temporary space for another.
suo never forgets.
he notices more as the days trough on. some mornings kiryu comes to work with a sheen over his rosy mouth, haphazardly smudged away but still sparkling, dots of glitter pressed over the delicate folds of skin. other days it’s his hair that’s tousled, rumpled from more than just the wind, kiryu’s eyes blindingly bright though he retains his smooth demeanor.
it’s not until suo peeks bruise from beneath kiryu’s collar that the peculiarities are brought up again.
“have you been paying attention to me this entire time, suo?” kiryu’s tone is colored amused. suo, be he a weaker man would’ve blushed, but instead he keeps a charmed smile on his face, pretty brown eyes glimmering in intrigue.
“i’m an observant man.” he decides to say. “and you’re avoiding the question. is that a hickey, kiryu?”
kiryu smiles, licking at his canines. the quartet are sat behind the building of the restaurant on break. kiryu leans back, rosy knuckles dragging over his white apron. adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, pink hair slightly damp as it sticks to the sweat on his face.
“it could be.” he decides to say. the offending bruise in question stretches, peering over the top of his white t-shirt. “what if it is?”
“then my next question would be who gave you that hickey.” suo throws one leg over the other idly. “seems as if you’re keeping something from us.”
“or someone from us.” nirei’s eyes dart about as if he’s searching his mind. “come to think of it, there’s been a lot off about you lately. you smile more, you always leave our hangouts early and you’re always talking to someone in the background when we’re playing games together.”
“uh huh,” kiryu’s smile grows crooked. “have i now?”
sakura’s brows furrow. “you have.” he huffs. “and not to mention that ridiculous perfume you’ve started wearing. it’s so sweet, like pears or peaches or something.”
“you mean my girlfriend’s perfume?”
the three men freeze in their seats. the color drains from sakura’s face immediately, duotoned eyes wide as they stare back at kiryu.
“your…” he blinks.
“girlfriend?” nirei finishes.
kiryu’s smile turns dopey. “yup. my girlfriend.”
sakura colors red in an instant. nirei’s blinking rapidly, stuttering over words he doesn’t know to say.
“what- when- how did you- when did this- wait-“
“you had a girlfriend this entire time and didn’t tell anybody?!”
sakura’s outburst nearly makes kiryu laugh. instead, his eyes just light up the more.
“my bad. i thought you knew.”
suo chuckles, drawing the attention from kiryu to himself. the brunette shakes his head, pinkette tilting his head curiously.
“sakura, he wasn’t exactly trying to hide it either.”
sakura frowns deeply. “so you knew the entire time too?!”
“i had a feeling.” suo hums as he stands. “it was pretty obvious.”
“obvious?” nirei asks.
“i’m curious.” kiryu looks at suo, brows a little furrowed in wonder. “how so?”
suo smiles. “you don’t like clementines, kiryu-chan. yet you always smell like them.”
“MOVIE NIGHT FLUSTERS!”
WINDBREAKER BOYS + DATE NIGHTS. ft. nirei akihiko, sakura haruka x f!reader
filled requests: one & two !
summary: sakura and nirei always find themselves reduced to a flustered mess when it comes to you, but tonight— they want to try and switch things up for once.
sfw. 1.5K wc. (descriptors such as ‘blush’ and ‘red’ are only used on nirei & sakura, not the reader).
SAKURA HARUKA.
if you were to ask sakura to recite a single sentence from the movie that’s been playing for well over an hour, he wouldn’t be able to tell you.
he’s flinching when your thigh accidentally brushes against his own for the third time in the past ten minutes, his heartbeat picking up a little more each time you adjust your position on the couch. each touch makes it ten times harder to concentrate and twenty times harder for him to breathe. his breath catches in his throat, and he can practically feel his pulse quickening.
movies are usually well over an hour, he remembers. it’s not a guarantee that he’ll make it that long. not like this— not with the way your bare thigh is pressed flush against his own.
sakura manages to steal glances at you throughout the film, trying to gauge your current situation compared to his, so he’s in complete disbelief when he finds you seemingly unaffected by it all, your eyes struggling to stay open as you drift in and out of sleep.
how such a thing is even possible remains a complete mystery to him.
he’s left to shift uncomfortably all by himself, trying to shake off the persistent heat threatening to spread throughout his body. and it’s all because of you, like always. his struggles seem to only encourage you to put more of your weight on him, however, and your arm comes to loosely rest on his lap.
“h-hey,” his whisper comes out as a choked stammer, “you’re not even watching.”
he’s not either, but he doesn’t think about that right now. that’s why it takes him a couple seconds to process what had just happened when he feels a sudden weight plop onto his left shoulder. his eyes widen, and no— you couldn’t have.
there was no way.
the gentle snores his ears pick up on confirm it. you had fallen asleep on him— not on the plush pillows beside and behind you, but on him. sakura freezes in place, hands balled into sweaty fists and his shoulders tense— and he wonders for a moment if his heart might actually burst.
“h—h..” he tries to get your attention, but his words catch in his throat, and he’s unsure if it’s because his head is spinning with heat or because he doesn’t want to wake you up from your peaceful slumber.
he hates that he knows the way he’s slowly turning his head to face you would be hilarious to you- if you were awake, that is. he’s met with the sight of your serene expression, eyes gently shut as your mouth parts in a little o between breaths.
he’s never really seen you asleep before..
the realization hits him like a truck, furious red returning to spread to the tips of his ears, and he briefly wonders if it might spread throughout his entire body as well. there’s a little choked out noise of surprise from him, and an even louder slap when his hand comes to slam shut against his mouth a moment later.
you look so pretty like that.
you always look pretty to him, but it’s different when you’re not awake to tease and jab at him like you usually do. he thinks it’s a little less nerve wracking this way, and he plans on taking full advantage of the situation, tasking himself with memorizing every inch of your face while he still can.
his eyes look over your lips for a moment, watching the way your bottom lip juts out a bit from the way you’ve squashed your cheek against his shoulder. they look soft, and he’s never really paid attention to anyone’s lips until now.
he’s leaning in before he even realizes it, fingers instinctively coming to tilt your head to get a better look at you, then he’s leaning in a little more—
and his lips are on yours.
the kiss itself is soft, lips just barely ghosting over your own for a brief second, just enough for him to register what he’s done a couple moments later.
he blinks once. twice. a third time before his eyes are shooting wide open, inhaling sharply before he’s pulling back violently— or as violently as he can without moving his left shoulder. his palm slams against the bottom of his mouth before he can choke out a noise.
he didn’t mean to lean that close. not at all.
it takes him a minute to compose himself, even slightly, before he’s even able to sneak another glance at you, his eyes finally locking on yours— and oh, you were awake.
not only were you awake, but the face you’re making has his stomach erupting into butterflies all over again. your eyes are wide, the back of your hand nervously covering your mouth as you stare back at him dumbfounded. “sakura…”
“you’re kissing me in my sleep now?”
it doesn’t come out in the teasing tone you intended it to. instead, it comes out like a nervous whisper, and the look he’s giving you in response only worsens the heat that’s rising to your own face.
NIREI AKIHIKO.
“…are you nervous?” your voice breaks the silence.
the sound of your tv is playing softly in the background now, the screen casting a warm glow over your room. you think it’s much cozier this way, especially with the way the two of you are buried underneath your mound of throw blankets, body nestled snugly against your boyfriend’s side.
“no…i’m not!” he’s quick to protest, trying his best to come off as convincing as possible despite the rapid thumping of his heart. the way you press closer against him with each question is killing him, he thinks, and he’s pretty sure that you can tell just by the troublesome glint you have in your eyes.
“are you sure?”
your hand comes to gently trace over his jaw, palm cupping his cheek as his breath hitches involuntarily. you giggle at this, and it solidifies his theory— you can most definitely tell when he’s nervous.
“i-i’m sure,” he lies through his teeth, a rush of warmth spreading through him at your touch. you’ve always been exactly like this. so much so that nirei has started to wonder if maybe you could read his mind, because the way you always seem to know whenever he sneaks a glance your way is almost uncanny.
he thinks he does it so subtly too, just a small peek to the side to catch a glimpse of your face, but your head is always turning a second after his, knowing eyes narrowing at him before you’re teasing him once again, leaving him red and embarrassed before you’re laughing and resuming whatever you were doing before. and always so nonchalantly.
“hmm,” you muse, a small smile tugging at your lips, “you’re blushing though, nirei.”
he just wants to get a reaction out of you for once.
the burst of courage he gets is sudden, both hands coming to roughly cup your face, and it catches you completely off guard, your back hitting the wall behind you.
“oh?” you gasp, eyes widening a bit when he leans in closer. it’s a first for you, and the feeling you’re getting from this is foreign. very foreign.
“um, nirei?” your voice comes out a little quieter when his warm hands stay on your cheeks, “..you okay?”
this was definitely more like the reaction he’s always wanted to see from you, he thinks. a part of him is in disbelief that he was even able to pull this kind of expression from you in the first place.
it’s so very unlike you.
“i’m o-okay,” he stutters a bit, heart racing as he holds his gaze. it might be the only time he gets to see you like this, after all. “you’re always teasing me, and you never let me get a good look at you.”
“i just wanted to be the one to admire your face today.”
“h-huh? my face?” you blink, lips slightly parted in surprise before pressing together in a tight line. the look you’re giving him is to die for, and you don’t tease him like usual. you only stare at him with nervous eyes, breaking eye contact a second later.
it feels nice to see you like this.
your hand comes up to shyly brush over his own, fingers lingering over his, and he’s not sure if it’s a stretch— but there’s the possibility that you’re doing that because you’re not quite sure what to do with yourself when he’s gazing at you like that.
he knows that exact feeling so well, after all.
“yeah, your face,” he repeats, voice coming out a little less nervous now, “you’re so pretty. need to look at you more closely from now on.”
furever with kaji!
₊˚⊹ featuring: kaji ren x gn! reader
₊˚⊹ summary: when you bring a cat to kaji’s apartment and ask his help in making a decent home for the feline, every request must come with an equivalent reward. for kaji, he thinks kisses are sufficient compensations to your requisition.
₊˚⊹ word count: 1.5k
₊˚⊹ warnings: tooth-rotting cringe fluff, grammar errors!
₊˚⊹ author’s note: binged frieren yesterday, and himmel and frieren occupied my mind, lived on it, rent free 24/7 for the past days! i’m also rewatching 86, bc shinlena are my ogs! anw, enjoy this kaji fic w cats bc i love cats (this is a shameless self-insert fic, if i think abt it) ;)))
kaji ren finds cats tolerable. well, actually, he considers them insignificant to his daily life, so he does not particularly hate them. the only moments where he would come into interaction with those little felines are when the townspeople would either ask him a favor, such as by catching them or feeding them, or when those cats would rub themselves on his feet and legs.
he doesn’t find them annoying though; he actually consider cats something that helps him calm down, shifting his attention to the little furry animals begging for rubs and pats, rather than the rowdy environment that encircled him. but, there were also times when the cats bite him out of affection, and kaji, knowing the person that he is, screams at the animal. afterwards, kaji would flinch as he watches the cat run away from him, feeling guilty as he looks down at the small strands of fur left on his pants.
after a couple of cat interactions, it would take probably another month or two when he would interact or touch a cat properly. all of these cat memories of kaji were brought up by the current situation between the two of you.
the second you knock on his apartment’s wood door, kaji unlocks it, knowing that you would be visiting him. he missed you, even though you do see each other after classes and during weekends. kaji has gotten clingy with you — the type of clingy that continues to seek the presence of the other, the type that opt to hear your voice rather than casual texts on the flat surface of his phone. but now, he kinda regrets opening the door for you. his gaze travels all around your figure, until it stops at a pint-sized, black and white animal that you hug near your chest.
he looks directly at your eyes, “why the hell is that in your arms?”
the both of you stand motionless, as no one dared to break eye contact. you wear a dumb smile on your lips as you giggle at your boyfriend’s statement. you lightly pet the small animal that leans into your touch. “it’s a kitten!”
“i know it’s a damned cat, but why the hell are you here, bringing a kitten in my apartment?!” kaji could not control the volume of his voice properly, causing him to step back as he realizes what he had done to you. you see the guilt in his eyes spreading, as if afraid of the possibility that he might have hurt you from his words. you quickly give a light smile to reassure him, letting him know it’s alright and he didn’t hurt you in any way with his words.
“well, i didn’t know where to bring it! the landlady at my place doesn’t like pets, so here i am!” you continue giving him that beaming grin of yours. kaji finds you insufferable — the way these walls he had built since he was a child quickly dwindle into nothingness when you forced yourself into his life, with that stupid, witless, yet stunningly delicate smile.
kaji notices how your face contorts to ever single emotion possible — from how your eyebrows furrow in seriousness to annoyance whenever you do your assignments , and how they quickly crumple to relief whenever he says the simplest of motivational quotes that he most probably looked up online since he was new to interacting like this.
in months of dating you, he wanted to know everything about you albeit being impossible — but, he was the type to make any possibility a reality. months into your relationship, he has put into immense effort into knowing you, and you reciprocated such actions from your boyfriend. and, it’s safe to say that both of you are still staying strong after almost a year of being with him.
you welcome yourself into his room, which kaji did not mind since he will always think that whatever that is his is also yours. you settle the cat on his chair, much to his dismay though. “hey! it’ll leave random fur!”
you pout at him, “i just need a box and some discarded fabric to make him a home for the meantime. you have some?” kaji knows how much you love cats, which is why he completely abides by your requests. but, of course, every request comes with a equal reward.
“i have some boxes and i plan to throw away some of my clothes…” he mumbles. you extend your hands at him, like a child asking for candy. kaji smirks.
he walks towards your direction, closing the distance as he draws his face near yours. you flinch at his actions due to how sudden and unpredictable kaji has become. you place your hands on his chest involuntarily, as your eyes lock on his pair of gray eyes as well. “w-what is it…?”
kaji doesn’t crack a smile, but instead, pouts. his index finger points towards the skin of his right cheek. you watch him tilt his head, as if showing the skin to you, and the words he uttered were something you had not even expect to hear in a thousand years. “k-kiss.”
you blink at him, as you could see the tips of his ears reddening from what he asked. he just asked… for a kiss? kaji ren? the boy who had always told you that you were insufferable was asking for a kiss?
“w-what?”
kaji’s face fumes into a shade of red, “n-nothing! never mind what i said, c’mere! as f-far as i remember, some of the b-boxes were underneath my bed! i’ll search for—“ kaji blabbers and stammers all over his words. am i going crazy? he, himself, could not believe he had just asked that from you.
kaji gasps when you clasp his entire face with your hands and peck the location of his cheeks that he was pointing earlier. he grabs your wrists as you continue littering his face with soft kisses. kaji feels like his world is spinning, his mind cloudy, his heart thumping so fast and his face burning red already.
you give him a final peck on his lips and smirk, “awww… are you perhaps kiss-deprived, ren? but don’t worry, i’ll kiss you anytime you want!” you beam at him, after seeing his flushed face. kaji doesn’t respond, which makes you somewhat worried.
“ren?”
his eyes stare at his room’s wooden floor, shoulders moving up and down. his bangs cover his eyes, leading you to simply call out his name multiple times until he slowly brings his gaze upwards to yours. you nervously chuckle at him, trying to break the silence between you both as he bores his eyes into you. “ren…?” you smile cautiously.
“you’re insufferable.” and, he closes the distance between your faces, kissing you harshly. it’s certainly not comparable to this kisses you’ve given him earlier, soft and teasing — his kiss is hungry, as if he’s deprived of water and your mouth is the sole salvation. it’s filthy and rough, but you fondle his lips with equal greediness.
you place your hands on both of his shoulders, balancing yourself at the height of the moment between you and kaji. you feel his tongue grazing your lips. he wraps his arms around your waist, one hand casually roaming your body until his fingers tangle with your hair and push you closer to him. it feels like forever — kissing him in a room that just encapsulates who he is: his scent, his mark, his hands that hold you tightly but not too tight, his eyes that only look at you. the entirety of kaji ren being yours and you being his feels like forever to you.
“meow!”
the both of you stop, heads snapping at the cat already purring at your entangled limbs. it’s almost involuntary how both you and kaji stare at each other and laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck. you feel his forehead press against yours as he whispers, “‘m sorry.”
“for what?” you lean your forehead against his. “nothing, just felt like it. since, you know, accidentally raised my voice on you earlier.” kaji smiles as his head finally drops to the intersection of your neck and shoulders, planting soft kisses on the bare skin.
you ruffle his head, “‘s fine. i know you didn’t mean it.” he hums in response to you.
“but for now, you have to help me make this cat’s home! i’ve given you lotsa kisses earlier, so i expect more help from you!” you poke his cheek, trying to force him to look at you. you wriggle away from his embrace, and kaji finally whispers in response to your statement.
“‘m willing to do anything for your kisses. i’m glad to do more even.” kaji smirks at you, causing you to smack his shoulder and ultimately breaking the hug. you’re glad that he’s finally trying to open up more, to talk more. you watch as he kneel towards the cat and let the cat sniff his fingers — a small introduction between kaji and the cat.
you want to savor the moment, and sure you do, because being with kaji ren feels like forever.
in which: you need to make it to liyue harbour in time so you can give kazuha a piece of your mind and a response to his love letter.
cw: fluff, 1.3k words, not too sure how canon accurate this is, potentially ooc-kazuha, gn!reader from inazuma, confessions, two wholesome idiots in love
a/n: for my little sibling @sixosix, i hope you enjoy
Liyue, out of all regions in Teyvat, is the hardest to run through.
It’s mountainous, your muscles will ache from going uphill, your ankles will be sore the next day from going too fast downhill. It’s grassy, the gravel is rough against the soles of your feet, and there is an abundance of hillichurls and samachurls waiting for you with their clubs and shields. Yet, they provide more motivation for you to outrun them, speeding right by their camps to get to Liyue Harbour in time.
Stupid Kaedehara Kazuha, when you see him, he’s in for an earful from you. Making you run from Lingju Pass all the way back to the Harbour, doesn’t he know how much you despise running for long periods of time?
A break is not plausible, especially when Beidou’s boat could leave the dock at any minute now.
When Liyue’s bustling harbour is in sight, it’s vast oceans appearing out the horizon, you feel like you can breathe. The sunlight glimmering on the ocean cheers you on, and you won’t stop until the waves are underneath your feet, the only thing separating you from them being wooden planks.
You push through crowds, too tired and determined to be polite and apologetic to shoppers you push aside. You run past Mingxing Jewelry, Wanmin Restaurant, and Master Zhang’s workshop, and don’t stop until you, yourself, are climbing onto the Crux. Crew members are shouting in protest at your sudden appearance, yelling at your unexplained entrance.
There are people trying to pull you off the boat, and you don’t really know where the strength to push off burly sailors came from, but you successfully fend off all of them, and find Beidou at the bow of the ship.
“Where is Kazuha?” You demand, decorum be screwed, nothing can stop your momentum now.
Her uncovered eye lights up in amusement, a hint of knowing behind her crimson gaze. “Right behind you.”
Lo and behold, the beige-haired in question was right behind you. “Uh, hello?”
“I have a bone to pick with you, Kazuha!” Stomping over to him, he grabs your wrist before you have another chance to talk, dragging you away from the bow of the ship where all the crewmates were unloading their cargo. (Beidou’s thundering laughter can be heard as he’s dragging you away, at least she’s not mad at your sudden intrusion.)
He stops when the two of you are on the quarter deck and turns to look at you with panic all over his face.
“What did I do?”
From your pocket, you pull out a piece of paper like it’s an incriminating piece of evidence, one that he’s stared at for too long, so much so that he can recall every dip and curve of the dry-pressed leaves he added on for a more personal touch. It has sat on his desk for ages, seen all of his turmoils and frustrations over delivering it to you.
The paper contains a mix of poems, haikus, and different confessions Kazuha has been harbouring in his heart for the past few years, ever since the two of you left Inazuma. Your hand clutching his gloved one as the two of you hurry onto Beidou’s boat with nothing but your visions, weapons, and the clothes on your back.
He has loved you for this entire journey, and words could not surmise the depth of his feelings, let alone a measly piece of paper. Some days, it sees the sun when he dares it to, but it always ends up right back on his desk, waiting for the day that it will leave Kazuha’s possession and fall into yours.
This morning was the exact moment. He slipped it in your bag before you went on your expedition, the two of you meeting for a quiet breakfast before his eight-month long expedition, and your two-week one. He had waved you goodbye as far as he could go before leaving Liyue Harbour, even staying on the outskirts until your group left his sight.
Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you so soon, not after putting that letter in your backpack.
“You’re a coward!” You accuse immediately, poking your finger to his chest. “A lousy coward!”
He takes it, knows that he should have just braved his fears and handed it to you in person, but the idea of being rejected on the spot causes his chest to ache in unbearable ways. The samurai rather you read it, then have eight months to prepare for your inevitable rejection.
Yet, he should have known that in the face of a storm, you are the only one brave enough to fight against the waves. Nothing ever goes the way he wants when it’s with you.
“You should probably sit down, Y/n, your legs are shaking and I’ll grab you some-”
Your hands fly up to grab the sleeves of his kimono, whether to stabilise yourself, or to stop him from leaving, or both, he stays. “Kaedehara Kazuha, I like you too,” you declare. “I just ran all the way from Lingju Pass, so I have nothing flowery nor sweet to say like your letter except that you are so very mean for making me come all this way.”
With one last heaved breath, you collapse to your knees. Kazuha, being the gentleman he is, freaks out and mimics your actions, clinging onto your shoulders.
“Y/n!” He calls out, his usually level voice breaching a panicked cry. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this. Stay here, I’ll go grab water water.”
Listening to the samurai, you rest against a nearby pillar, feeling the dull aches in all muscles of your legs. Archons, you’ll feel the pain tenfold tomorrow.
Kazuha returns not too long with a canteen in hand, and he twists it open before handing it to you. After a few beats of tense silence, he speaks up.
“Honestly, I don’t really have anything to say either, I wasn’t expecting to see you for another eight months, and even then, I was expecting a rejection.” He admits sheepishly, a blush blooming along his cheeks. “Maybe an apology for making you run all this way just to see me is my first course of action.”
“Accept my confession first, jerk,” you punch his shoulder lightly, smiling up at him.
“I’ll accept anything so long as it’s from you, I thought I made that clear in my letter.”
“Don’t think you can charm your way into my good graces!”
He thinks it’s adorable that you’re trying to maintain your cool mask despite your inability to look him in the eye, even if he’s hardly faring much better. The usual lyricism of his words have faded, and his quick mind can’t think of anything poetic to say, as if your confession has intercepted all the functions of his brain.
You like him back, you like him back, you like him back, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information except smile like an idiot.
“Are you still going on your expedition?” asks Kazuha. “Your group must be waiting for you.”
“I told them not to, dumped my rations and things with them and told them they could use it. I’m not running all the way back now.”
“Then, does that mean you can join us?”
“I don’t want to intrude, and I don’t know if you have enough things on board for another-”
“-I’m sure Beidou and the crew wouldn’t mind. There are always extra rations, you can have some of mine if it gets to it, and our first stop is at sunset, so we could go and grab some clothes for you to bring along!” He quickly suggests, hope shining brightly in those crimson eyes of his, as if pleading for you to say yes.
The wind blows gently through his beige strands, and the moment feels enchantingly similar to one you had read in an Inazuman poem. Then again, Kazuha always had that effect; the ability to slow time and let you see the world through a different, prettier lens, even if the consequences were completely dire.
You want to continue seeing through his lens, exactly the way you did when both of you fled Inazuma and the Vision hunt Decree. And you want to see the rest of Teyvat the way he does.
“Okay.” You agree, “I’ll come along.”
© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
“POST HORROR CUDDLES!”
WINDBREAKER BOYS + COMFORTING YOU. ft. hayato suo, sakura haruka, togame jo, & umemiya hajime x f!reader
filled request: “hello hello! may i request bofurin boys and shishtoren boys x scared!reader? reader had been watching too many scary ghost/strange videos and now theyre all shivered up but wont stop watching. what would they do to comfort their sweetheart? please and thank you!!! <333”
sfw / fluff . 1.5K wc. thank u for sending this in :>
HAYATO SUO.
"oh? are you going to follow me everywhere?"
suo's teasing tone contrasts with the sweet smile he gives you when your hand shyly tugs at the back of his sweater, your frame trailing only about a half step behind his own as you follow him down the hall.
he stops when he’s directly in front of your bathroom, and you suddenly realize that maybe you should have listened to him earlier. your poor tolerance for horror was well known to him— but in your defense, you weren't expecting the stories to be that scary.
there was just no way you could have known.
"..just don't wanna be alone right now," you mutter, cheeks hot with embarrassment—but you're too scared to care, "and you can fight better than me."
"i can just wait here if you're fast," you quickly add, deciding against following him all the way into the bathroom; but rather just wait outside. because if you did, he'd never let you hear the end of it. not that your situation is much different now.
suo hums in agreement.
"you're so cute," he coos, amusement coloring his voice as he glances back at you. "oh, but be careful."
he raises a finger to warn you, "a truly skilled serial killer would be able to get to you in the one minute i spend in the bathroom."
your eyes widen at the information, and he stifles the chuckle that threatens to come out. "oh, but you already knew that, didn't you? don't mind me then."
the way you gasp and latch onto his arm immediately after he turns to leave is endearing. "wait," your voice is urgent, "i'm scared now."
of course you were.
it's only now when you start to realize just how dark your hallway is at nighttime. the purses you have hanging on your doorknobs suddenly look a lot like what a humanoid figure would look like. your eyes dart around you, and a part of you wishes you had never left the comfort of your own bed to follow him here in the first place.
"i was kidding," his voice cuts through the tension, and he’s smiling in amusement, hand coming to interlace with yours before giving you a reassuring squeeze. "come on, let's go back to bed."
“you don’t need to pee?” you ask, arms latching around his as you follow his steps closely.
“don’t worry about that.”
SAKURA HARUKA.
"stop—don't touch me!"
your hands instinctively fly up to shield your face as the bedroom door swings open with a bang, the doorknob slipping from his grasp and crashing loudly against the wall. there's a grumbled curse that follows, and through the gaps in your fingers, you spot your boyfriend standing frozen in the doorway, utterly bewildered.
"h-huh?"
he's holding a bag of bubble waffles, his other hand trying to balance both boba drinks without dropping them onto the floor. "sorry," he grumbles, "my hands were full."
that's right— he did head out earlier to pick up your boba order for you. it was only a few minutes after he left when you started putting on scary stories to pass the time. something you shouldn't have done while you were alone, you realize.
"oh..." you let out a relieved sigh, your shoulders relaxing. "it's just you. you scared me."
he raises a brow in confusion before his gaze finally shifts to the fortress of pillows around you, cocooning your figure with what looks to be his very own hoodie pulled all the way over your head. your lips tug into a knowing smile when he breaks out into a furious blush at the sight. "perfect timing. you're gonna protect me now, right? baby?" you tease, emphasizing the nickname that never fails to make his cheeks flush.
"f-from what?" he's stammering, making his way towards your bed to set down the snacks onto your nightstand with stiff and awkward movements.
"and why are you calling me…” his eyebrows furrow deeply, “t-that?”
you look cute in his clothes, and you look cuter hidden underneath all those pillows. seeing you like this makes him want to pull you flush against him, hold you close and make you feel protected— but he would never say that aloud. he would absolutely never be able to get the words out if he tried.
there's a choked noise of surprise when you lean over your mattress, arms enveloping his frame in a cheerful embrace.
"what, you don't like being called baby?"
the red deepens into a deep shade of scarlet at the name.
he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to work up the courage and admit that he does like it. he’s liked every single pet name you've ever called him (which was probably all of them by this point). he just hates the way they take away his ability to speak.
his arm extends towards you in one rough motion, the ice in your drink sloshing around as he tears his gaze from you, glaring at your wall instead as he waits for the heat in his ears to die down.
"j-just drink this already."
TOGAME JO.
you don't understand how your boyfriend is able to lounge so comfortably in complete darkness.
he's seemingly unfazed by the horror unfolding on the screen in front of him. and you, on the other hand, are sitting wide-eyed directly beside him, your heart racing with each scene that plays. you have to remind yourself that the shadows moving around you are just your imagination, and that the eerie creaks in the wooden floors are definitely not because of footsteps.
"togame," you pull on his sleeve with urgency as soon as you notice eyelids starting to droop, your boyfriend dipping in and out of sleep. “togame.”
"hmm?" he hums out lowly, eyes still shut as his hand rubs circles on your lower back to calm your nerves.
it was something he's always done when the two of you took naps together. he likes to trace up and down your back, drawing little shapes and circles on the skin with his fingertip as he listens to your voice.
"please don't fall asleep," you plead, "i can't watch this all by myself."
there's a little grunt that escapes his lips when he stirs, shifting a bit before propping himself up on an elbow to look at you. the movie wasn't scary to him, but clearly that wasn't the case with you, because you're peering up at him through teary lashes, lips jutting out in a pout as you plead with him to stay up.
it makes his heart flutter.
"come here," he finally says, pulling the bottom of his sweatshirt up for you to crawl underneath. you’re staring at him for only a brief moment before you're immediately slipping underneath the fabric, nestling yourself against his chest and letting his warmth envelope you. a small smile tugs at his lips when he feels you let out a content sigh, hands coming to balance themselves on the strong muscles of his chest.
"better?" he asks, arms coming to lay loosely around your waist.
"mhm," you sigh, "thank you."
UMEMIYA HAJIME.
"here, come here."
umemiya is gentle when he pulls you onto his lap, hands guiding your thighs to straddle his own as he wraps you up in a suffocating hug, smiling when you return the embrace. "all better?"
you give him a small nod.
"good, because you're stuck with me now," he grins, strong arms flexing as they tighten their hold around your frame, and he leans back against the wall with a satisfied hum.
"thank you, ume," you mumble softly, burying your face into his chest. he knows this has always been your favorite way to cuddle with your teddy bear of a boyfriend, and he's the same way. he likes when you latch onto him like a koala, and he likes when you press your ear against his chest to listen to his heartbeat.
he likes having you close like this.
"of course," his voice is a soothing rumble, and he leans down to press quick kisses to the top of your head. his fingers come to gently massage your neck, the rhythm calming your nerves. "but you know— they aren't real. they won't hurt you."
you lean into ume a little more, letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. "i know... but it's still scary."
he chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against your cheek. "that's okay. that's why i'm here with you."
his presence helps you relax a bit, finally loosening your grip around his middle as your breathing steadies a bit. "maybe i'll play something else for you," he suggests, grunting as he reaches over to grab the remote. "you like the dancing fruit?"
you lift your head to meet his eyes, mouth spreading into a little smile. "let’s watch the dancing blueberries today.”
◇ Things that make his heart melt ◇
◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇
🌿 Warning: Spoilers 🌿
🪷 [ It wasn't in my plans before, but I really want to comfort these boys ]
🪷 [ Cuties, I see your requests and don't forget about them. I'm going through a little stressful period right now, so it may take a little longer than I wanted, but I'm already working on it ]
◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇
ㅡ Suo, Sakura, Umemiya
Suo
Sincere care for him
Everyone knows that Suo is strong in every sense. He is also smart, restrained, independent and confident.
It is not uncommon for people to admit such thoughts in his direction as 《 He is strong/smart/hardy, he will cope 》, waving away unnecessary worries.
But not you. You've never neglected it and it came from the heart. You knew that Suo was far from weak and admitted it, but it never affected the level of your concern for him. Yes, he is, but this does not mean that you can take less care of him, referring to the fact that he can do it himself.
Strong people can take care of the difficulties outside and also take care of themselves. But if they can, it doesn't mean that it's easy for them.
You always paid attention to his comfort in one situation or another, did some small and inconspicuous things that actually made a big difference.
Starting from the way you imperceptibly put a cooling compress in his furin jacket pocket before patrolling on a hot day or a a small pocket warmer in winter, and ending with silent hugs at the right moment to maintain peace in his soul.
It wasn't just a superficial concern, it was about his feelings.
At first, he somehow automatically shielded himself from it, it was his defense mechanism. He didn't want to admit that he needed it in any way, he didn't want you to think that he had at least some weaknesses to know the truth.
However, time and your perseverance have done their job. Over time, Suo began to accept your truly deep concern, letting it into his heart and passing through it.
And believe me, it made his heart blossom.
Sakura
Listening and hearing
Sakura, as a person who has spent his whole life alone, is not used to conducting dialogues and generally having any long-term relationships with people.
That's why, when he first caught himself telling you about some hobby of his with a desire, and at that time you were really listening attentively to him, he felt this terribly strong and strange feeling in his chest.
Of course, at the same moment he fell into a stupor, and then he got angry because he was confused. You still don't understand why he abruptly stopped talking, flushed red in annoyance, and then abruptly said goodbye and ran away.
Poor boy, for him, these feelings seem especially strong. Because it was the first time for him.
You knew it was very difficult for Sakura to open up to people. That's why, when he started sharing his thoughts with you or telling you something, you immediately put all the worries in your head aside and focused on Sakura.
You wanted him to feel heard so that he would understand that you want to hear and listen to him
And it was at such moments that the young man's heart seemed to melt like ice under the warm rays of the spring sun.
God, you really make this boy happy.
Umemiya
Special intimate moments between you
When you are alone, he's lying on your lap, and you're stroking his head.
It is this moment that permeates Hajime's heart and soul with sparkling threads that touch his most sensitive and vulnerable points.
At this moment, he feels as if he is transported back to childhood, when he was still a carefree, happy, beloved little boy, surrounded by family love and a sense of childish lightness.
Once he had lost this happiness, these incredible sensations, but now he had found them again. In a different form, but the same happiness.
He is lying on your lap, and your fingers are tangled in his white hair while you stroke him and at this moment Umemiya feels this warmth again, he is sincerely loved again, he is again childishly carefree and happy, he is home again.
◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ㅡ ◇
UNEXPECTED LOVERBOY
-> in which you overhear your calm and secretive boyfriend gushing over you like there’s no tomorrow (1.1k wc)
Cw) gn!reader, manga characters (no spoilers), sakura still malfunctions when it comes to romance topics
Calling Hayato Suo an enigma would be an understatement.
Not a soul knows what lies under that eye patch. He’s calm, collected, and composed at almost all times, but it was a task of its own to grasp why. It’s impossible to catch him eating anything other than teacakes, and he often replaces his meals with a hot cup of tea. He claims to be on a diet, but every diet needs some protein incorporated into it.
Everything there is to know about Suo can be followed up with the same question: “Why?” and “What?”
However, there was an exception to his mysterious nature: You.
Of course, you didn’t know that. Hell, even Suo failed to notice his quite obvious soft spot for you until now. But as Nirei’s eye glittered with joy as he scribbled new notes onto Suo’s page in his notebook, and Sakura’s pupils shrunk with his cheeks flaunting a new shade of red, everyone knew.
Hayato Suo’s in love.
“(Name’s) a beauty, really. They may be rough around the edges at times, but I’ve never met anyone with a soul like theirs,” he babbled uncharacteristically.
He brought his teacup to his lips with closed eyes, missing the baffled expressions on everyone’s faces. But the moment he opened them, he couldn’t help but quirk a brow. “What’s with the shocked faces?”
Umemiya coughed into his hand graciously. “We’re just a little surprised, that’s all,” he began, too immersed in the conversation to notice you entering Kotoha’s cafe. “It’s not often you ramble like this.”
“I didn’t know Suo could be so open about his feelings,” Nirei exclaimed with a smile. “You must reallyyyy like (Name), huh?” he questioned, holding his pen in one hand and notebook in another as if this were an interview.
Suo’s head tilted. “Of course I do, that’s why I’m dating them.”
“You’ve been rambling on and on about (Name) for almost 10 minutes, it’s gross,” Sakura grumbled with flushed cheeks.
“But we wanna hear more! Keep going,” Nirei added.
Everyone looked at Suo attentively, including you. Somehow, the group failed to hear the bell chime when you entered the cafe. You’re clueless as to what’s going on, but it didn’t take a genius to realize it had something to do with you considering the amount of times your name was thrown around.
“My, if you insist,” Suo chuckled. “But I fear I’ve already said it all, unless I forgot to mention how cute it is when their cheeks puff up when they’re annoyed?”
Sakura held his head in his hands in fear that it’d melt off with how hot his face felt. “No, you didn’t. But we get it! You love (Name)!” he shouted.
“They’re impossible not to love,” Suo commented with his usual calm smile.
“That’s just Sakura’s romance sensor going haywire,” Kiryu teased. “Don’t mind him.”
The split-haired boy sulked in his seat, trying to dismiss the heat he felt on his face. “You’re all so…”
His voice trailed off, catching a glimpse of your frame standing behind Suo.
“Su-“
“Trust me, if you were in my shoes you’d be doing the same thing. (Name’s) one of a kind, not to mention beautiful. I can’t imagine a life without them, honestly.” The brunette went on, unbeknownst of your looming presence behind him. “Anyone can fall in love if their heart is stolen.”
“Someone like Suo being so head over heels in love… it must feel like a fairytale for (Name),” Umemiya chimed.
“Oh trust me, it does.”
Everyone’s heads turned to face you, except Sakura, who had noticed you seconds prior.
“(Name)?!”
“I didn’t know I could be such a fun subject of conversation, Hayato.” you teased, hands resting on your boyfriend’s shoulders as you leaned down to his ear.
He gulped, hiding his flustered heart through his relaxed exterior.
“We were just talking about you!” Nirei said happily. “Is it true? That Suo never lets you hold doors open, and holds them open for you? Or that he gave you his umbrella when it was pouring rain because he’d rather get soaked than risk you getting sick?” Oh! What about-“
The boy in question sat in silence, allowing Nirei to ask his heart away to confirm that this wasn’t one of his absurd lies.
You nodded at the blonde. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes. Except he technically kept the umbrella- he just held it over me so my hands wouldn’t get cold,” you corrected, recalling the awful weather of that day.
“What a romantic~” Tsubaki swooned.
“I try my best,” Suo smiled shyly.
“Suo never talks about his life! This is the most he’s ever told us, (Name)! Does he talk to you about his personal life?” Nirei inquired politely, trying not to make you feel pressured into answering.
You thought for a moment. For one, you felt honored that Suo didn’t wanna keep your relationship a secret like the rest of his life. But the blonde’s question made you realize something yourself- you really didn’t know much about your boyfriend’s personal life.
“Well… what can I say? He’s a mystery to everyone, including me.” you replied unsurely, glancing at Suo from the corner of your eye.
“Interesting…”
Nirei wrote something down in his notebook, and you didn’t bother looking. Instead, you held eye contact with Suo. He didn’t have to speak for you to know what he was thinking.
He wasn’t hiding anything from you. He just didn’t like talking about his past, and you understood.
“My love, you know more about me than anyone else in this room,” he stood after finishing the contents of his teacup. “After all, you were the one who told me to take baby steps, correct?”
You vaguely recalled those words. It was weeks ago, but he felt guilty for not telling you or anyone else about his history. In response, you told him to take as long as he needed, and baby steps were always the first steps.
“I did,” you affirmed. Your voice was soft, but it didn’t hide your intentions of making his heart pound a little harder. “But I didn’t think I'd catch you gushing over me like you’ve lost your composure~”
Suo almost broke, and you laughed.
“Woah, is Suo blushing?”
“Who could blame the guy? It’s the most open he’s been with us,” Hiragi commented with truth.
Kotoha giggled from behind the counter. “Not to mention how close (Name) is to him right now, it might be too much for the poor boy to handle.”
The red in Suo’s cheeks slowly faded, and he let out a small sigh. “I’ll see you all later, we’re gonna get going now,” he waved.
The two of you walked out hand in hand, and everyone else was left either baffled, confused, or unphased. Unless it was Sakura, who was somehow all three.
Little did you know, Nirei left a small comment on the corner of Suo’s page in his notebook.
‘Quite the loverboy.’
© enassbraid 2024. i do not permit plagiarism, translations, or reposts of my work on any platform.
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