Modern Dating Is Embarrassing I Want To Meet Someone The Old Fashioned Way (he’s The Local Hot Priest

FLUSTERED.

you can’t believe how easy it is for him to fluster you (you’re just gonna blame it on the fact it’s your first meeting with him).

pairing: ayato/gender neutral reader

category/warnings: arranged marriage, first meeting, fluff ig, ayato is hot, ayato has long hair, ayato is taller than the reader, ayato kisses the reader on their hand and the reader is nervous throughout the whole fic ure welcome

note: anyways please wish me luck on my history test today i really dont want to retake it bro

nervous. that’s the word that best describes the state that you’re in right now. nervous and a little bit excited.

you’ve heard stories about kamisato ayato — a lot of them, to be precise. who didn’t? the head of the kamisato clan, the yashiro commissioner, the leader of the shuumatsuban; yes, you’ve heard stories of him but never met him in person. and that is precisely why you’re nervous — because you’re supposed to soon marry someone you didn’t meet before. and now that you’re waiting for him, you start wondering how have you never meet him yet considering you’re so close with ayaka?

“don’t worry,” she tries to make you less nervous. admittedly, she fails but you don’t have the heart to tell her that. “oh, you see? there he is!” she whispers in your ear and gestures in front of you.

and there he is indeed. walking in your direction, with his head held up high and a confident walk.

you get more and more nervous with every step he takes and so when he finally stands in front of you, you forget how you’re supposed to act.

“hello, it is a pleasure to meet you,” he says and his voice is smooth and rich; it reminds you of honey. he has a curious glint in his eye. “hello, sister,” he adds while smiling at ayaka, to which she nods at him.

you three stand in silence for a good minute, with your friend’s brother’s eyes never leaving your figure. the girl is the one to break the silence first.

“i’m going to leave you to it,” she says and quickly bids the two of you goodbye.

it’s going to go great!, she mouths while backing away.

now that you’re left alone, you look at the man in front of you more closely. he’s attractive. oh archons, he’s extremely attractive. and he’s tall, overwhelmingly so; his figure seems to loom over yours and you feel oh so small. his hair is tied up in a high ponytail with two strands adorning his face from both sides — he’s a handsome man. he’s a very handsome man and he’s looking at you so intensely you want to disappear.

“hello,” you answer. your voice is visibly nervous and you curse yourself for it.

“may i?” he asks while gesturing to take your hand. you allow him, lifting it in his direction yourself. he delicately takes it in his own and brings it up to his lips — and you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe and you feel your cheeks heat up. he kisses your knuckles while never breaking the eye contact and you’re so caught up in the act of what is happening that you forget how close and how intimate the position you are in is.

“i have a feeling we’re going to get along quite well,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, not letting your hand out of his hold. his eyes are piercing and you have to look away. you try to calm down your beating heart — damn it, why were you so easy to fluster?

kamisato ayato is gonna be the end of you.

This is actually the context for this pic guys trust me my uncle works at mihoyo

NONE LIKE YOU .ᐟ — AYATO

what's so special about you? summary: a little look into why your clan leader favors you so much. sfw .ᐟ fem!reader x ayato, not-established relationship, boss x secretary, ayato pins for you [quite badly, if you ask me]. word count: 1.4k proofread: nope. a/n: this was supposed to be shorter... and there was more to this but i am half-asleep, but wanted to get this out tonight. expect a couple of grammar mistakes.

Being the secretary of the head of the Kamisato Clan ensures you a stable position in society. Despite the constant meetings, demanding rigid nobles, and the ever-growing, never-ending stack of responsibilities that lingers no matter how many sleepless nights you spend, it is a decent job. The salary sustains your lifestyle, and you even started saving towards a house with it. And most importantly, your boss, Ayato Kamisato. Albeit a man of particular habits and strict in his business, you managed to prove your worth and earn his trust. Eventually, his fondness as well. To the point, he trusts your opinion to the extent he allows you to act on his name more often than not. 

Who wouldn’t want the position you are in? 

Very few dare act towards it, though. Not foolishly ignoring how the clan head keeps you by his side always. Not insolently denying how he never trusted his assistants until you arrived. Everyone recognizes that this special treatment you got from him wasn’t because you were his secretary, but because it was you.

Replacing you? Pft, Ayato might as well cut off a limb. 

Except that losing you would be worse than losing his right arm.

Half-asleep and with a cup of tea in hand, you sit in your designated spot —a comfortable cushioned chair beside the clan leader’s. Sleepiness still weighs on your eyelids as you sip your warm beverage, starting your morning with the same routine. This also involves your boss standing behind you, combing your hair carefully to not pull on the knots, and tying it on a knot for you. For the sake of work, he argued the first time he offered to in a morning you woke up too late to comb through your morning hair. And ever since, it has become one more habit in the long hours you spend working together on a daily basis. 

“Not too tight?” Ayato checks after brushing it into a low-hanging bun, and you only nod as you try not to burn your tongue drinking your cup too fast. 

However, today, you feel something being inserted in the bun. Before you ask, Ayato already is extending a hand mirror for you to look at your new hairpin. Dangling with a precious glimmer of silver, adorned with a delicate flower made with azure gems. A carefully crafted piece, either imported from foreign lands or an antique gift by a noble. The color reminds you of him. 

“Sapphires suit you the best,” he comments, eyes looking at yours through the mirror. He always does that, always seem to be seeking for you even when in the same room. 

Reaching for it, you drag your finger carefully on the smooth surface of the jewels. You wonder then how much it must have cost to acquire it, or if it could even be acquired in the first place —you shouldn’t be accepting such a priceless item. But Ayato knows you too well, reading through your mind and interrupting your thoughts with a gentle squeeze of your shoulders and a softened smile. 

“You have lightened my burden considerably. It is thanks to you that I can be at rest. This is merely a small show of my appreciation. Please, keep it.” 

The summer heat clings to his skin as he walks inside his office, slipping off his outer robe immediately to try to cool off after dealing with an outside meeting with a fellow lord. It had not gone well. Now, he wasn’t the type to explore into fits of anger or to blow up his upset with alcohol, way more refined than that. Instead, he seeks you, and when not finding you in your usual spot beside his desk, his nose scrunches. Empty. Your seat and his chest. That’s what had felt so odd in his office, there wasn’t your pretty voice greeting him as he arrived. 

With a sigh, he settles in his seat and catches movement in the corner of his eye. Ah, maybe you had fallen asleep in his reading area. You rarely did, finding it disrespectful to use your lord’s things but he insisted you did when too exhausted after long nights. Almost happy, he looks up to the lounge chair in the small library in the room, hoping to find your adorable figure sleeping peacefully. Instead, his mood drops to the ground when he sees another woman instead. A maid, he assumes by her attire, organizing several documents. Your documents. 

“What are you doing here?”

The words leave his mouth so harshly, that even he is surprised at his anger. What bothered him so much? That someone intruded in the privacy of his office, bypassing the guards somehow in a clear breach of security? That the maid hadn’t greeted him according to etiquette and thus clearly lacked the standards to work for his estate? No, none of that.

Because those were your things. The ones you split your head open with headaches and countless hours sorting out for an entire week. He still remembers how content you looked when done, saying it lessened your burden significantly to have everything coded in your way. 

So why would this random person dare touch your things?

“And with whose permissions are you being so bold, touching my property?” Heat seethes through every word even when he smiles, eyes narrowing into crescent moons. 

“I’m sorry my lord! I only wanted to help you—”

“No one is allowed inside my office without permission, it is one of the first things you are supposed to be taught. If you aren’t smart enough to follow that, you are not qualified—”

She interrupts him and cuts through his words with an offended remark.

“But she comes in and goes however she pleases! She and I are no diffe—”

Red flashes in his vision, blood boiling. Her little speech muddles into a blur in his head, eyes opening darkly. The same? You, the same as this thing? There isn’t anything to compare in the first place, not even a reason to do so. To compare you? Had she lost her mind? He racks through all possible ways from here on; remove her from the Kamisato estate without a recommendation letter, ensure no other noble families hire her, and ruin— 

“Ah, you are here.”

Your face peeks through the door before walking in, an angel incarnated. With a hand sliding the door open and the other holding a full tray, you unknowingly save a stranger from living miserable for the rest of her life without a job. You even give her a small greeting, polite as you are, a little weirded out by how the maid stammers with flushed cheeks and runs away. 

“Huh, what’s with her? Anyways, guess what I got!”

Your excitement spreads to him, face shifting entirely with a softer warmth nestling in his lower stomach. He doesn’t even try to guess, letting you place the tray before him and listening to you explaining in detail each of the pastries you selected from the kitchen. Your sweet voice stirs fondness, his eyes following your lips more than what follows your words. You’re so precious, trying to incite him to eat something after he skipped lunch earlier. You speak so nicely of the custard tart, inviting him to take a bite. He does, of course, he does. 

You might as well give him a bottle of poison and ask him to drink it with that endearing smile of yours, and he'd happily chug it down to the last drop.

“So, how is it?”

“Not bad.”

Too bland for his taste, but seeing your smile widen is worth every bite. Unexpectedly, you pull something out of nowhere, his eyes widening slightly when processing what it is. 

“I know it isn’t sweet enough for you,” you —an absolute blessing— place down the cup in front of him with a proud smile that looks oh-so-adorable on you. “I got you your drink, of course. Shook the milk with ice but no ice in the drink so it wouldn’t water down. Double pump of thick syrup. Ha, am I not the best?”

Only you would take your time to learn about his little particular tastes and make them out for him out of the pureness of your heart and not because it was your job to please him. He gives you one of those rare smiles where you can see his teeth. 

“Yes, you are the best.” 

﹒postscript : a little drabble based off this fanart by aransmind on twitter ( X ). wc 0.4k ɞ‎ cw innuendo

you can feel a tightness around your eyes as you catch f1 racer satoru violating the regulations, again. he’s pushed a rivaling motor off the track this time, a scowling expression visible on your face.

aaand, today’s grand prix goes to gojo satoru once again! he is truly a veteran, boasting his 4th win in a row!

you shake your head, grumbling. you know nobody is going to say anything about his little antic, they never do. he’s gojo satoru after all. everything need’s to be an exception for him.

“did you see me there, pretty?” speak of the devil. the man himself is sprinting towards you with a stupid grin on his face, knowing damn well he’s about to get lectured.

“gojo.” you scowl at him. “how many times have i told you that you can’t push a motor off the track?” you press your lips together in an attempt to calm down.

“whaaaat? i don’t remember doing such thing.” he brushes you off nonchalantly. “he was in the way, anyway.”

“sat-gojo.” your ears flush a bright red color as you nearly slip up. “that’s not how it works, and you know it.”

“sa-to-ru?” gojo tantalizingly spells out his name, each syllable rolling off his tongue. “that what you were about to say, huh?” he smirks.

he was completely ignoring your warning.

“i was not!” you snort at him. “you’re such a pain in the ass, im just waiting for the day you get disqualified.” you gruff.

“me, disqualified?” gojo laughed at the thought. “mmm, maybe in a different timeline.” he cocks his head to the side, as if he’s giving it a long thought.

“you know, maybe ill rat myself out.” he looks down at you with a teasing smile, widening as he watches your eyebrows raise curiously. “if…”

“oh my god, no.” you shake your head immediately, already knowing what he’s going to say. “do you ever give up? i’ve told you no 5 times already.”

“give up? im offended you think im that easy.” gojo pouts. “come on, i know you’re just playing hard to get.” he reaches his hand out to wrap it around yohr shoulders, to which you quickly swat it away.

“aw, i thought we were buddies like that.” that menacing pout appears on his face again.

“we’re not.”

“that’s not what you said last week.”

his suggestive remark causes you to intake a sharp breath, redness spreading across your face.

“i told you we don’t talk about that!”

1989-2018

I wanna bite 'em........I wanna bite his big strong shoulders until he throws my legs over them.

No answer.

Prompt: In which you are accused of treason against the Fatui, and all Scaramouche could do was hold you in his arms as your consciousness slipped away.

Pairing: Scaramouche/gn!Reader

Categories: Unrequited Love, Angst, Death

Wordcount: 743

Shaky breaths left your lips as you dashed as far as your legs could carry you.

Just a few more steps.

Keep reading

*chaos ensues*

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Sunday Honkai Star Rail Fanart

u can’t touch this🧂