#quinnsdrabbles

[grabthathorn]

Hello! It's a-me! The unhinged Langley simp but this time I'm thinking about 99 and her muscles. She's a buff woman that honestly no one could rival with (other than Zoya); which makes me melt when I think of 99 x Hella. I too, want an Absolute Unit™ of a murderous destruction to be so... soft towards me. Thinking of sharp, crazed eyes turning gentle whenever they land on her sun. Big, sharp claws running through her sun's hair before placing kiss on its ends (a worshipful gesture that she sometimes does unconsciously. Any sinner is retching at them lol). Her Mania skyrocketing only to drop down when she hears Hella's voice beacuse, beacuse no matter what she will always recognise her!!! No matter how deep she is ending in her mind!!!!!!! About how she's ready to kill, to die for her. Just to make sure her sun is as free as she can be in a world that wants them to be chained down.

I love how 99 looked at this gremlin, barely at her titties level, and really went "I would kill for her. I would die for her. Ethier way, what bliss."

Just... Ninety-nine going so very soft on Hella who actually quietens down whenever she gets affection from big buff lady.

I'm also thinking about loud, barsh, sharp around the edges Hella who loves to be embraced by 99 and never letting go no matter how sometimes the touch is hurtful (but she will heal and 99 DOESN'T need to know, mind your own business, fucker). About her just hanging on her forever-ride just to feel her close (and is so, so, so afraid to let go). And how she always thinks about her whenever she gets or demands something good (because I like to think that, just like 99, she associates everything good, be it snacks or toys or anything really, with big ball of rage that is soooo beloved). I'm thinking of her bending her back till it snaps just to make sure 99 is safe and sane beacuse there's nothing more loving than act of keeping someone so precious to oneself alive no matter what fate throws their way.

Just pure love between two broken people who makes world feel a little less broken.

I'm thinking! I'm aching! My heart bleeds and goes out for the broken and unloved finding solace in each other!!!

Unlovable hand!!!

I'm also thinking about Langley turning me into a human pretzel but it's not the time for that lmao. I wish she would DESTROY me.

honestly these two get me soft - i just finished playing the recent event (my characters were low-leveled no one come for me) and ninety-nine's brief mention was so cute

(also sorry for the time it took to respond)

A Brief Stay

(Hella/Ninety-Nine)

“Hella?”

     The last moments before unconsciousness took her were filled with cacophonous cries, the smattering of blood, and the searing pain that wove into the very fabric of her being. It was not an uncommon feeling, to be overwhelmed with anger and mourning, but it hurt just the same every time. 

     Missions go awry all the time, yet Ninety-Nine never cared unless it was her at risk. The sunlight she couldn’t bear to lose.

     When Ninety-Nine’s eyes drew open, the environment she was in was far different than all of the ones she had seen before.

     It was sterile, there were no masked men and women prodding at her, waiting for her body to turn. It smelled pleasant, with no lingering iron baked into the sheets of her bed or the walls of the room. It lacked the chains For as much as she could see, she was safe. 

     But safety only meant so much when she was alone.

     A dark-haired woman entered the room, hand in pocket. “You’re awake.”

     Ninety-Nine didn’t even bother responding, sitting up and ready to pounce when the doctor’s gaze redirected itself to the former lab rat’s side. 

     Glancing down and following the doctor’s gaze, Ninety-Nine found none other than Hella, curled up against her side and clinging to her gown, sound asleep. Her shoulders immediately dropped, and she returned to laying down, choosing instead to wrap her arms around Hella and hug her close.

     “You’re lucky the Chief was lenient,” the doctor sighed. “...And that she recovers quickly.”

     Marking a couple of things down on Ninety-Nine’s chart and giving her one last glance-over, the doctor left the room, letting Ninety-Nine have her privacy.

     With a yawn, Hella buried her face into the crook of Ninety-Nine’s neck, whispering, “Don’t do that again.”

     “You were hurt,”

     Hella pulled back to grimace, staring up at Ninety-Nine with a face nothing short of pure disappointment. Despite the woman being significantly shorter and wielding a pipe in comparison to a large sword, Hella was often the one to chastise Ninety-Nine, who gave way to her every time.

     “I can heal myself.” Hella deadpanned.

     Ninety-Nine opened her mouth, shut it, then tugged Hella into another hug. “...Okay.”

     Though the exchange had its tense moment, it quickly passed, and the two were back to their usual routine and nigh-inseparable. A comfortable silence took them as they searched for something to occupy their time, settling on a magazine about the latest and greatest to come out of DisCity.

     Not that either of them cared all too much about DisCity - the only thing they could be bothered to care about was each other.

     “You two should get- “ the doctor paused in the threshold of Ninety-Nine’s room when she spotted the two curled up, reading said magazine. “I’ll have Anne bring over your meals.”

     Hella peaked over the magazine with a smug grin, then returned to reading. Ninety-Nine didn’t notice the brief exchange of glares the two shared, too immersed at a nice jacket and dress. The kind that she’d figure Hella would wear if she wasn’t caught up with Sinners and MBCC and the lifeblood of DisCity.

     At the side of her face, Hella spat out, “Who the fuck would wear that?”

     “I think it would look nice on you.” Ninety-Nine commented.

     “I like my beanie, thank you.”

     The former lab rat didn’t even notice there was a beanie in the magazine to begin with.

     Ninety-Nine angled her head to get a better look at it, then the one atop Hella’s head. To say it was well-worn was an understatement, but it carried the same charm that Hella often did. She shrugged, kissing Hella on the temple, and looked back at the magazine.

     Hella rolled her eyes, flipping to another page.

[grabthathorn]

My favourite character from PtN is Langley (my beloved), even tho I don't have her (though I spent quite a few bucks in this game I have everyone but her sadly).

I'm actually brainrotting over her being the elusive lady that she is.

As a Chief it's our duty to catch her at all cost and bring her to justice, but the ting is : she always slips away no matter how much effort we put into the chase. Like a game of cat and mouse between us that lasts for a very long time.

It's frustrating how many times she just evaded us.

But what if one day this chase turns around? Where we are the prey? And she's chasing us and will not rest till she sinks her claws into tender flesh and rips us apart with her fangs?

Just... feral criminal lady getting sick and tired of this charade of cops'n'criminals and just makes us submit to her by any means.

(NEVER IN MY ENTIRE LIFE I WANTED TO BE TOPPED SO BADLY. EVEN ZOYA AND 99 DOESN'T COME CLOSE HOW I FEEL ABOUT PRETTY BLONDE LADY WITH A GUN. But Iron comes the closest lol.)

anon you are absolutely unhinged and i respect it so much

cw // gunplay and a smidge of blood, 18+

     By all accounts, the Chief of MBCC had made a series of grave mistakes.

     While today was one of the rare occasions she had been offered a reprieve from taxing work - work that had spanned a far greater amount of land, people, and crystals than she had initially expected - that reprieve was proving to be far shorter than she expected. Sinners were the beginning and the end of her responsibilities, inextricably tied to every move the Chief made.

     It didn’t help that many Sinners had become aware of her existence, often seeing her as a target to be eliminated.

     Not that she could blame them - after all, losing your freedom to the state is far from an ideal lifestyle.

     Yet, the Chief had been put on Langley’s case a few months back, the woman supposedly behind the breakdown of peace talks that were, for all intents and purposes, once-in-a-lifetime.

     So as she ruminated over these thoughts, the Chief stumbled into an alleyway behind the bar she drank at, blinking through alcohol-blurred vision. She could make out an imposing figure at the other end, even in the dim light. What little light crested against the details of the woman’s figure bore her signature button-up and coat, alongside the skirt that hugged her hips and thighs.

     The Chief didn’t even need to be sober to see the wide-brimmed hat that hid electric-blue eyes.

     “Funny, isn’t it?” the cock of a gun echoed in the narrow alleyway. “All this searching put on a rookie…only for you to get caught first.”

     Langley wasn’t wrong. Through the five months that the Chief had been assigned to her, there had only been one occasion in which she got close enough to possibly shackle her. Even then, Langley slipped through her fingers like grains of sand and was gone just as fast as she was found.

     There would be no way the Chief could reach her in time before a bullet was put between her eyes. 

     It seemed the Sinner knew that as well. 

     Rounding on her heel, the Chief sprinted out of the alleyway, her adrenaline outdoing the effects of liquor. Now, with her heart pounding at the ribs in her chest, she could hear steady steps behind her, unwilling to even try to match her pace. 

     The Chief reached into her pocket and grabbed her phone, dialing anyone, Nightingale, Hecate, anyone at the MBCC who might be able to reach her in time.

     BANG!

     The phone clattered to the floor, and the Chief’s ear and thumb began to drip blood.

     “The next shot won’t miss.”

     Turning back to face Langley, the Chief backed herself against a wall, scowling. Her head felt hot, and she could scarcely keep her legs straight. Perhaps she shouldn’t have gotten so deep into the city.

     With quick strides, Langley was inches in front of her, pressing the barrel of her gun against the underside of the Chief’s chin. Now, the officer could do little else but swallow, meeting that cold gaze with one of her own. Not that it could ever compare.

     “Thinking about shackling me?” Langley murmured.

     The frigid barrel was like a brand against the Chief’s skin. Though she knew she could easily touch Langley, the likelihood of shackling her through leather gloves and a nigh-incorruptible mind seemed unlikely. The Chief kept her gaze focused, yet kept her body still.

     “What do you want?”

     The barrel began to drag down the officer’s throat, catching at her collar. “Hm…Do you think our little game is fun?”

     “Game?”

     “Yes, game.” Langley tugged the gun down, ripping the top two buttons of the Chief’s shirt apart. “Where you chase me, desperately hoping to get me under your thumb like the rest of your lackeys…only for me to slip away just before you touch.”

     The Chief gulped, the barrel now firmly pressed between her breasts.

     If Langley hadn’t shot her by now, there was another reason for this play.

     The Chief grabbed Langley’s wrist, and though it tensed under her touch, the trigger remained in its place. Langley chuckled, pressing her body closer.

     “Stop pretending you’re above me, that you could ever hope to shackle me.” Langley sighed. “You were mine the moment you accepted my case.”

     With one fell swoop, the gun did away with the rest of the buttons, resting the top of its barrel against the Chief’s cunt. The Chief made no move, both too paralyzed and too shocked to process what happened. No words were spoken in the moments after, and dark, warm lipstick left its mark against the Chief’s throat.

     “What are you…”

     “Shackling you.”

     Langley’s mouth opened, her teeth digging into the Chief’s neck with enough ferocity to warrant small puncture wounds. Despite herself, the Chief sighed into the pain, her hips rocking back and forth against the barrel. It had barely been a minute, but her panties were already soaked through.

     The hitman’s free hand reached up to palm one of the Chief’s breasts, digging her fingers in hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks, even with her leather gloves. 

     “How long do you think it will take for you to break?” Langley murmured, lapping at broken flesh. “Did they train you to withstand pain?”

     The Chief’s head hung as Langley pulled away to watch the officer grind against her barrel, turning it slick. 

     Without a word, the Chief reached out to lean on Langley, grabbing her shoulders while whimpering nonsense. 

      In the back of her mind, she couldn’t fathom why she became so beholden so quickly. Perhaps, in this long-standing chase, a part of her had become fixated on Langley, wanting to find the layers beneath that murderous exterior. Or perhaps she had grown tired of controlling others, wishing those black-gloved hands would wrap around her throat.

     “Oh my, it seems you’ve already broken.” Langley chuckled, wiping her lipstick off the Chief’s neck.

      The Chief nodded, whimpering as she tugged on Langley’s tie, wanting to feel that bruising, cutting pain once more.

~~~

     In the end, Langley gave herself freely over to MBCC. While her subordinates had drawn attention to its suspicious nature, the Chief waved them off, insisting that another Sinner shackled would be a net positive, no matter what ulterior motives Langley could have.

     “Ma’am, Langley’s returned from her dispatch.” Nightingale announced. 

     With a nod, the Chief entered her office, finding Langley in her seat.

     “Do you want to know what I’ve found?” Langley murmured, undoing her tie.

     The Chief gulped, and locked the door behind her.

[grabthathorn]

A Cinnabar/Chameleon drabble, feat. DisCity's finest technology in the form of straps. 18+

     Though Cinnabar was quite literally inside of the woman, much less had her between her arms, she couldn’t feel any less in control than she did right now.

     Chameleon, a seemingly-innocent therapist had offered to lend a kind ear. It wasn’t like Cinnabar had the authority to call upon the actual authorities of MBCC just to talk their ears off, so a fellow Sinner had to do. 

     In hindsight, maybe relying on a Sinner wasn’t the smartest idea.

     “Fuck- sorry, ma’am.” Cinnabar hissed out, a blush evident on her cheeks.

     The therapist raised a brow, wrapped her leg around Cinnabar’s hip, and pulled her closer. “I didn’t pull so many strings just to have you waste such an advanced piece of technology.” though her indigo eyes had no power behind them, her remark only seemed to make them glow. “There’s no need to apologize, I know you’re sensitive.”

     Chameleon was right, Cinnabar was sensitive. In fact, she was so sensitive that the heat wrapped around her made her fear friction, lest that heat overwhelm her and cause her to climax far earlier than appropriate. At that point, she would be little else but a puddle against Chameleon, and while she was sure the therapist wouldn’t hold it against her, there was a churn in her stomach at disappointing her in any way.

     The therapist raised a brow. “What’s wrong?”

     Cinnabar blinked, glancing down at her hips. They had already begun a gentle movement, barely noticeable but there all the same. 

     “Miss…” the mercenary sighed out, warmth shrouding her, blunting her mind as if her usual mental precision had been struck against an anvil.

     Chameleon only watched, her eyes never once leaving the Cinnabar’s angled features or the sweat that dewed on her brow. She didn’t even have to say anything, and Cinnabar was already heeding her desires. Though her powers could never rival that of those goddammed shackles, having a taste of it here was more than enough to sate her curiosity.

     Or perhaps Cinnabar was simply just like this. Malleable.

     Once dull, lazy shifts in her hips had now grown far more precise. With each pull there was a push with greater magnitude, hammering the tip of Cinnabar’s strap deep enough to be felt at the base of her spine. 

     “Keep going,” Chameleon moaned, digging her nails into Cinnabar’s back.

     “Yes ma’am.” the mercenary whispered, dipping her face into the crook of the woman’s neck, arms weakening as her climax drew near.

     Cinnabar's thrusts lost the accuracy in which they had maintained for the better part of an hour as she bit down into Chameleon's shoulder, whimpering. Her hips were erratic, simply chasing the release of her wound core, forcing the couch beneath them to groan with each shift.

     "Miss, I'm- " Cinnabar panted, trying desperately to hold on.

     "Go ahead."

     The mercenary's hips slammed one last time into Chameleon, stuttering with the waves of her orgasm. She was so warm around her that Cinnabar could only keep their bodies flush, even if Chameleon was still nearly fully-clothed.

     A gentle hand began to comb through her hair, and Cinnabar pressed her face deeper into Chameleon's neck. 

     "Did I tell you to stop?" Chameleon chuckled. "I suggest you keep fucking me."

     Without a word of protest, Cinnabar's hips began to move on their own. Being unfamiliar with the strap, her senses had already begun to overload, new friction coming right after the fracturing might of an orgasm. A pathetic, keening noise was muffled against Chameleon's skin.

     "You don't stop until I tell you to…Understand?"

     Cinnabar nodded numbly, her hips speaking more than her lips could.

[grabthathorn]

Sun, Shiny Day

(Ei/Miko)

     "Go outside!"

     With an unceremonious flare, Ei was ushered out of her shared home. Makoto had insisted that a 24 hour livestream combined with nearly 48 hours of slumber was unhealthy for Ei, and though she was lethargic, she could do something in the sun.

     Now that she was on the outside, however, Ei was at a loss of what to do. 

     It was raining for most of the time that she was unconscious, and the streets around her were more like small rivers than actual streets. 

     However, as she crouched down closer to its surface, she found the vague image of a drain. A very clogged and unclean drain, yes, but a drain nonetheless. She knew that no one would bother cleaning this, and she knew that her sister wouldn't let her back in until the sun began to wane.

     Glancing around, Ei found a wayward hoe, idly pressing its spikes into the drain and trying to drag whatever debris there was out.

     In her peripherie, Ei heard the rumble of an expensive car, quite likely going past the speed limit of the area. She knew she was in no danger, yet braced herself all the same.

     With a muffled screech, tires kicked up the stagnant water and drenched Ei, though she never attempted to stop cleaning.

     The car came to a halt and reversed slowly.

     "Are you okay?"

     Ei squinted through the chill of her clothes and dirtied glasses. "Yes,"

     Her eyes widened as she felt the spokes snag onto a clump of leaves, and with a firm heave, it came undone and the street began to look like itself again.

     As Ei stood, the woman in the car left and walked up to her. 

     To say the least, the woman was very pretty.

     Clad in clean white lines tailored into a suit, to pink hair that framed a confident and beautiful face…Ei was quick to pretend that she had to clean her glasses.

    "I'm sorry, dear." the woman fished out a handkerchief and cupped Ei's cheeks - quickly warming - to pat her face dry. "Let me get you some clothes."

     "Really, it's nothing."

     The woman clicked her teeth. "It's everything, and the least I can do. Come along, now."

     Though Ei knew of the inherent sketchiness of the entire situation, she was freezing despite the sun's presence. She would owe the woman later, but for now she would have to clamor into her sports car and apologize for getting it wet.

     "By the way," Ei cleared her throat. "What's your name?"

     "Miko,"

     "Mine's Ei."

     "Cute."

[grabthathorn]

Academic Unwinding

(Yae/Layla, 18+)

cw // somno

     "Oh my," Miko sighed. "They've worked you to the bone."

     Layla, a Rtawahist student, was curled up in her arms, wearing a set of comfortable pajamas and sleeping soundly. Quite surprisingly, her more adept side hadn't come out to greet Miko, seemingly resting as well. 

     Beside them was a gentle chime made from Cryo, playing a tune Layla had ascribed the 'yes' sign to.

     Miko hummed along, nosing against the crook of Layla's neck with a small kiss. 

     "They should really treat you better, Little Layla."

     Warm, deft hands undid the necklace that helped keep Layla's top up before sliding beneath and cupping her breasts. The scholar whimpered at the difference in temperature between her skin and Miko's, squirming in her lap.

     "Hmm. Relax," Miko whispered.

     As Layla's top peeled down with gravity, her nipples pebbled with the change in temperature. Even still, her body raised itself into Miko's touch, yearning for that electric thrum.

     Slender fingers slipped beneath the hem of Layla's pajamas, gently circling over where her clit had begun to swell against the fabric. The student pressed against Miko, tilting her head back with a sigh.

     "There you go," Miko cooed. "Such a good girl."

    Miko nosed against the crook of Layla's neck and moved her fingers once more, this time bypassing the last layer between herself and Layla. As her finger ran back and forth with a feather's touch against Layla's clit, Miko could hear the choked-out cry that left the poor girl.

     Smiling, her fingers slipped further, pressing into Layla and curling.

     "Mnh…" Layla whimpered, her legs parting unconsciously.

     Miko nipped at Layla's gold-capped ear. "Good, isn't it? You're so cute."

     Drawing back, Miko returned her fingers to Layla's clit, circling it like a predator would its prey. Yet, Layla seemed to feel anything but fear, her slumbering cries and bucks of her hips only drew the fox in. 

     Perhaps, in her chronic exhaustion, Layla yearned for something, no- someone new. Letting Miko see her and touch her at her weakest moments was nothing like she had ever done before. Even still, the kitsune made her feel safe, keeping her in her embrace.

     The lingering hunger and dissatisfaction that plagued Layla ever since she parted ways with Miko came back with full force, her body moving to meet the Guuji.

     "You're close aren't you, Little Layla?"

     The lilt and melodic tone Miko always had almost seemed to move in time with her Cryo chime, as Layla was left to do little else but feel Miko's fingers move faster.

     Miko was winding her up, finding that weakness that she sought to resolve. With each pass of her fingers, the noises that left Layla grew ever more greedy and breathless, her hips flush against Miko's palm.

     The burning in her core melted, and Layla burst, crying out as she awoke to a warm embrace.

     "Shh…you did good."

     Blinking, Layla smiled up at Miko. "Thank you."

     "Think nothing of it, little one."

[grabthathorn]

Belated Rosabarb Halloween drabble (18+)

when the dom drop hits

cw: choking

     The two of them had snuck away early in the evening, knowing the rest of the city would be alight with candlelight glow and the wish of keeping the city free from horrors. No one, not even the Grandmaster, would notice two members of the clergy gone, even if one of them was the famed Deaconess of Mondstadt.

     Now, Barbara was pinned into a pew by the neck, whining out as she felt the frigid cold of Rosaria's fingers pump into her without mercy.

     Rosaria watched closely as Barbara's eyes rolled to the back of her head, her neat curls coming undone with each chase of sensation. Barbara was still breathing easily, her keening voice made that clear. It was Barbara who requested something new, after all.

     Yet the nun still felt uneasy, the thrum of Barbara's pulse against her fingers suppressed, yet not constricted.

     Though she attempted to remain focused, Rosaria's mind flitted about until landing on unwanted memories. Memories of warm skin turning cold beneath her palms, of a knowing smile accepting the end. Of a twisted sort of familial love ending, just for a chance to let her live.

     Rosaria pulled away, uncaring of her wet fingers as she sat, leaning back against the pew.

     She could still feel Barbara's heartbeat beneath her fingers while her own drummed loudly in her ears. She wanted to keep that vitality unhindered, wanted to be sure that it would never fade beneath her hands.

     "Rosaria…?" a meek voice called, still slowly getting used to an unimpeded blood flow.

     "I'm sorry," Rosaria sighed. "I know you wanted it but- "

     A warm, light weight landed on her lap and another pair of subtle flames cupped her cheeks. She hadn't even noticed how tears were being cleared with the gentle swipes of Barbara's fingers.

     "It's alright."

     The nun opened her mouth to speak, yet shut it when she knew that only her lip would quiver. She grit her teeth, burying her face into Barbara's chest, free from its usual frills.

     Barbara kissed the top of her head, whispering, "We don't have to do it again."

     A shift in weight, and Rosaria looked up at her lover, searching for any semblance of pity. She found none, and her chest deflated with a sigh.

     "I want you." Rosaria confessed, bringing her wet hand against Barbara's thigh. "I just don't want to hurt you."

     The Deaconess smiled down at her, pressing a little closer and kissing her briefly.

     "That's okay with me."

     "We can try- " Rosaria began, gently holding Barbara's thighs. "We can try another time. Not tonight."

     Barbara nodded, leaning back down for a kiss as cold fingers turned warm during their crawl clloser to her core. It was always an exciting feeling, whenever Rosaria was about to pleasure her. The kind she had grown addicted to, the kind she wanted in every form.

     When Rosaria's fingers finally met where Barbara wanted her most, she leaned deeper into the kiss, opening her mouth to let Rosaria in. To let her in, and to find safety from within her.

     The two parted as Rosaria pushed her fingers in, witnessing the bloom of a thousand roses scatter across Barbara's cheeks, the smaller woman's hips moving to meet her every move.

     "I love you," Rosaria whispered, pressing her lips against Barbara's with a curl of her fingers.

     Barbara could do little to respond, her moans muffled by Rosaria's tongue.

     With time, Barbara crested and crashed against Rosaria's fingers with growing intensity, a tempest against the nun's shore. She braced against Barbara, yet felt her soul get lulled in with every whine and cry of her name. Even as the celebrations roared outside, Rosaria could only hear Barbara grow closer and closer to her release.

      It was comfort, a lifeboat in the uncertainty Rosaria felt whenever she pleasured Barbara.

     Like a siren's song, Barbara's climax came with a heady cry, the Deaconess grabbing wildly at Rosaria and hugging her close, grinding against delicious friction and heat. When the last of her orgasm had taken her, she slumped against Rosaria, frail and small, exhausted.

     "I love you too," Barbara whispered, pecking the side of Rosaria's neck. "But you knew that already."

     With a knowing smile, Rosaria couldn't help but roll her eyes, hugging Barbara's sweat-soaked body close.

[grabthathorn]

Dehyarzad (18+) [3.2 Spoilers!]

someone's a little energetic now.

     "My lady…?"

     Dawn had barely broken into the sky when Dehya awoke to warm hands and lips caressing every inch of her body. Though she knew that Dunyarzad had recovered, the Homayani's returning energy manifested in rather interesting ways.

     Dunyarzad's lips pressed against her neck, as her hand pushed up the dress Dehya slept in.

     "Thank you for saving me." she whispered, nipping at scarred skin to mark it.

      "My- " her voice silenced when she felt Dunyarzad's fingers shift back and forth against her clit.

     "Thank you," the noble repeated, cupping her lover's face and capturing her in a kiss.

     Dehya chose to return it with fervor, her hips idly meeting Dunyarzad's hand. As much as she was the feared and awe-inspiring Flame Mane, she was also the woman that unwound easily at another's touch.

     Especially if it was Dunyarzad.

     She felt something settle against her thigh. It didn't take a Sage's wisdom for her to realize that it was one of the many purchases she accompanied Dunyarzad for the week prior.

     The noble kissed behind Dehya's ear, murmuring a small, "May I?"

     Dehya nodded quickly, trying to shift closer into her lady.

     After some gentle preparation, Dunyarzad slipped her strap in, inch by inch, until her hips were flush against Dehya's.

     By now, Dehya's clothes were pushed up, revealing her abs. Dunyarzad had no choice but to grip the latter's torso for leverage, occasionally digging her fingernails into the hard muscle just to listen to Dehya's whimpers.

     And though it was early in the morning, it seemed that Dunyarzad's pace far outpaced the exhaustion usually reserved for this time. Her hips pounded into Dehya, forcing the strap as deep as it could go while making the mercenary bounce against her, even rocking the bed they slept on.

     Dehya's hands gripped the headboard while her legs locked her lady in. With Dehya's hair splayed out like a mane of sun rays and her eyes scarcely focused, Dunyarzad smiled down at her.

     "So beautiful…" she trailed, huffing with another thrust.

     Dunyarzad's nails scratched a light pattern against Dehya's abs.

      "My lady," Dehya whimpered. "I'm- "

     The noble moved her thumb to circle around Dehya's clit, igniting a flame in the mercenary's core. Dehya looked to her once again, begging with her eyes when her voice had failed her.

     Dunyarzad leaned down, muffling Dehya's voice as she came, writhing and bucking up into her. 

     When they finally parted, only Dehya's pants could heard.

     "Stay." Dunyarzad whispered. "Let's just stay here today."

     Dehya nodded, silently using her legs to press Dunyarzad deeper inside.

[grabthathorn]

F!Chief/Cinnabar (18+)

a certain ex-mercenary is not as compliant as you'd think.

     Chief…

     The title was blared out through worn-down TV speakers, the only sound in the room outside of heavy breathing and patient hums.

     Despite the usually large stature Cinnabar boasted, with her arms tied behind her back, she seemed awfully small. Much less when she tried to hide her face in the chief's padded shoulder, trying her best to muffle the noises that escaped her.

     It didn't work.

     Even still, she bore a handsome charm, the hard line of her jaw pressed into the chief's shoulder and her orange suit undone to reveal hard lines of muscle from years of work. 

     "For as compliant as you've been…" the woman began. "You've gotten into quite a habit during your alone time, hm?"

     Cinnabar could barely force herself to glance at the screen, seeing her past self splayed out on her cot, cumming once, twice, innumerable times while calling for her boss. Her voice never croaked out loud enough to be heard in the halls, yet it was loud enough for the camera. 

     A camera Cinnabar was only vaguely aware of. 

     Yet, a part of her had always hoped that the chief would catch her - she always chose times when the chief wasn't on the floor.

     "I'm sorry, ma'am," the Sinner choked out, bucking her hips.

     The chief was never normally this cruel, but Cinnabar was always so obedient. She couldn't help but take advantage of the situation.

     After all, it seemed that this habit only arose after she had met Cinnabar's old superior. A father, of sorts.

     The pad of her finger idly drew circles around the mercenary's clit, refusing to press down, much to Cinnabar's well-expressed pain. Try as she might to spread her legs and buck into the chief's touch, her superior pulled away every time. It left the orange clothes and the couch beneath her soaked with little pleasure to show for it.

     She looked up at the chief with the glimmer of tears in her eyes, the groan of her ropes speaking for her frustration.

     "I'm sorry, I'm sorry- "

     Cinnabar wept when the finger pressed down.

     "Are you saying you would never do that again?"

     The mercenary seemed to truly contemplate her words, glancing between the hand between her legs and at the TV screen, listening to her pathetic groans and whimpers. She grit her teeth, hung her head, and dropped her shoulders.

     "If it made you uncomfortable, of course." Cinnabar whispered, guilt dripping from her words.

     A strained whimper echoed from the screen.

     A few beats of silence permeated the room.

     "Chief- mmh…" Cinnabar forced her mouth shut as her superior's fingers pushed into her with a kiss on the neck.

     Cinnabar glanced down between her spread legs, where the dim glean of the TV shone against the chief's hand, currently pumping into her at a relentless pace. Even the warm lips against her neck showed no mercy, as teeth pressed against her skin, undoubtedly leaving bruises behind.

     "You think," the chief whispered. "That you were forced to watch you fuck yourself because I was uncomfortable? While I touched you?"

     The mercenary's voice rang through the screen once more with another cry of, Chief!

     "I…"

     "How much can you take?"

     Cinnabar's jaw slacked as she panted harder, the fervent pace of her superior's fingers and mouth much too overwhelming after hours of scant touches. As tears welled in her eyes from the sheer overwhelming feeling, she leaned back and bucked her hips into the chief's hand.

     "Please," she groaned, her hips canting upward.

     She was so close.

     The chief pulled her hand away, watching as Cinnabar whined rather uncharacteristically, her hips finding nothing but the cool air. 

     When her mind caught up with her body, Cinnabar looked up at her boss, glassy and unfocused, flitting from one feature to another on the chief's face. Her mouth hung open limply with her pants, and her arms strained against the ropes, unable to touch herself.

     "Sensitive?"

     Cinnabar's brows knitted as she gave a faint nod.

     Brushing her thumb back and forth against the latter's flushed cheeks, the Chief shoved her fingers back into Cinnabar, her pace as unkind as before. 

     The poor mercenary's eyes shot wide open, her hips instantly attempting to meet her boss' touch. It nearly hurt, with how much she had been stimulated, and tears rolled down her cheeks. Even as she attempted to meet the Chief's gaze, hoping to prove herself satisfactory, she struggled to see through the blur.

     With a particularly harsh swipe of the Chief's thumb, Cinnabar cried out, her hips rolling sporadically as she chased that high at the hands of the woman she was loyal to. 

     What little energy she had left after her climax tore through her body was spent looking up at her. 

     "I'll be the only one to watch your cell from now on," the Chief whispered. "You've always been the most compliant, after all."

      Numbly, Cinnabar nodded, leaning into her boss' embrace.

[grabthathorn]

Pre-Tumblr Drabble Masterpost

Yeah, it's everything alright.

Note: If it feels like these are sparse, it's because they were written to be screenshotted to fit a phone, and were originally in size 9 font.

First Arlebina Drabble

Arlebina Tension Practice (first part of this 18+ fic)

Ninglan Exes Tension Practice (Suggestive)

Shinosara getting high for Shinobu's birthday

Meihua dick sucking (18+)

Elymei angst dream sex (18+)

Eimiko virgins (18+)

Nilhya (Nilou/Dehya) Bodyguard Drabble

Nilhya Idol/Bodyguard (18+)

Dehyarzad being soft

Dehya gets railed (by Nilou/Dunyarzad/Candace) (18+)

Einsla Edging (18+)

Milf Ei + Miko nearly throwing hands with her son

Ei/Ningguang tease (Suggestive)

Beiguang are wild (18+)

Arlebina + Manipulative Columbina

Ningguang/Ganyu Massage

Ei (and dreams)

CEO x Gamer Eimiko Antics (18+)

Eimiko (when the Archon gets bunny features) (18+)

Knavelumi bratification (18+)

Eujean bratification (18+)

Ayalou (Ayaka/Nilou) First Kiss

Eimiko (Ei tops...for once) (18+)

Jeanlisa (does jean have mommy issues) (18+)

Yaesara domesticity (18+)

Focchino (Focalors/Arlecchino) moment (18+)

Any drabbles after this should have a post of its own on this site :)

[grabthathorn]

Morning Drive

(Ei/Miko, CEO/Gameru AU, 18+)

     "Mommy?" the voice whimpered, a hand reaching to ball up the lapel of Miko's suit.

     They were in the back of the CEO's limousine, parading about town with no particular destination. Before Ei stepped inside, Miko had only told her that they would take a well-needed vacation. After all, Ei had just broken a million subscribers on her streaming channel. 

     As for Miko…

     Well, Miko had spent too long in the office, and now that the fiscal year was done, she needed to let out all her frustrations on a certain streamer.

     Ei's skirt and panties were pooled at the floor of the limousine, leaving her in only her hoodie, pulled up above her stomach, riddled with black marker. The words scrawled across her were a handful of terms Miko had become fond of - whore, slut, hole. 

     The streamer never made any argument against them. For all intents and purposes, Ei was those very things for Miko, a result of the hefty pay she was awarded and because of her attraction to the CEO.

     "Hm?" Miko hummed, sipping on smoke from her long, narrow pipe.

     Miko wasn't staring at Ei. She was looking out the window, its tinted glass rolled down just low enough for Miko to peer and exhale out of, though not low enough for the average person to spot Ei.

     Ei, the poor girl, was trying to keep quiet, though her whimpers kept coming.

     The CEO moved her vibrating toy in and out of Ei's ass, moving far too slow to let the poor streamer actually enjoy herself, yet enough to keep the flow of noises coming. Ei was always rather sensitive, and this was no exception.

     Breathing in from her pipe, Miko looked down to Ei, watching her partially curled up form writhe from the toy. As her hips rutted into nothing, Miko watched as Ei's precum dripped onto the leather of the seat. Miko would usually find stains an inexcusable offense, but considering that the lube she was using on the toy currently in Ei was also staining the leather, she had little reason to complain.

     "Please, mommy," Ei whispered, inching herself closer to Miko without rising above the edge of the window. "I'm close."

     Miko exhaled. "Really, now?"

     Ei nodded, blinking through tears. "Please?"

     Miko took another drag, and pressed her lips against Ei. She exhaled slowly, though the hand holding the toy pumped at a brutal pace, ramming into Ei and pulling back its full length for but a moment, only to fill her back up.

     As Ei wept from stimulation, breathing in the smoke Miko gave her, she cried into the woman's mouth, her hips shifting greedily as she spilled herself onto Miko's freshly-pleated pants.

     The CEO pulled back with a knowing smile, slipping out the toy and wiping away Ei's tears.

     "Thank you…" Ei trailed, adjusting to rest her head on Miko's lap, licking away at the mess she made.

     "Such a good girl."

[grabthathorn]

hey guess who made this account just in case twitter goes to shit? i can't escape tumblr it seems.

(More info below the cut.)

This is Quinn, and if you know me from Ao3/Twitter, no need for introductions. If not, hi, I write raunchy sapphic stuff for Genshin/Honkai and maybe Overwatch in the future. Feel free to drop asks!

Tags:

#quinnrambles (non-writing thoughts, or whatever comes to mind)

#quinnsdrabbles (self-explanatory)

#quinnsfics (self-explanatory) | I also have a Google Docs with all of my fics listed.

#quinnreblogs (stuff that isn't necessarily related to a fandom)

#quinnanswers (answers to anons!)

[Note: I am not here for discourse, I write what I write and I'm a multishipper. If you don't like what I write, just block me or mute a tag I use.]