() THE WANDERER

(☂️) THE WANDERER

♡ ᵔ ᵔ) how to use: go to file = make a copy

♡ ᵔ ᵔ) mobile friendly and easy to customize! feel free to change any and everything, but please do not remove the credits.

♡ ᵔ ᵔ) you are free to distribute these for other people to use.

♡ ᵔ ᵔ) character is wanderer from genshin impact

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☂️ ﹒ THE WANDERER ﹨ SINGLE MUSE ✦ ₊

☂️ ﹒ THE WANDERER ﹨ SINGLE MUSE ✦ ₊

GUESS WHO JUST TURNED 20? (Any words of wisdom, oh wise one?)

-✨

Happy birthday!!

I'll be turning 22 this year myself so I don't consider myself very wise, but I do have a couple things that I always abide by.

Absolutely no matter what happens, no matter what you do, have at the very least $20 on you

Don't be scared to advocate for yourself in work, school, or even in friendships

Always use two soaps when bathing, especially if you like the smelly good ones. Those ones typically don't clean well and are rough on your skin, so use one that'll actually clean and another one with a scent you like.

Really dumb stuff, but those are Mai words of wisdom.

-Mai <3

Wanting to write more Wolf boy! Whitney...

Shy Wanderer who spots you at the Akademiya and develops a crush embarrassingly quick. You, a fellow student in another department caught his attention and suddenly his heart won't stop pounding, his mouth goes dry, and worst of all, his face turns such an obnoxious shade of red. He takes to turning his head down so that the wide brim of his hat covers his face whenever you're near, he'd rather not see you at all, than to have such an embarrassing expression be what you see on his face.

You think he hates you at first. The way he'll always look down or away when you're around feels like something you'd do to someone you don't like. But you constantly heard tales of the new transfer student, the one who's essays were causing a storm amongst the Akademiya and who's beauty was like that of a painting. Both of which were things you could never partake in, when you went to approach him, he'd turn his head down, covering his face with that gaudy hat, and excuse himself away.

He essentially avoids you like the plague, the way you make his heart beat out of control is an issue that he hates, yet he still finds himself drawn to places he knows you'll be at. The library in your department, the greenhouse where you gather medicinal herbs, the lab where you often experiment on the local fauna of the Sumeru. He always tries to be there to steal a glance at you before you can look at him, feeling oddly creepy by what he's doing, but not knowing what else to do.

Wanderer is doing his usual routine, finding you just outside of the classrooms with a book in your hand. You look incredible with the light of the large windows beaming down on your face, your eyes sparkling as they take in every word on the page. He looks at you and you take his breath away, you always leave him completely breathless with your beauty. When you feel the eyes on you and look around, he puts his head down again. Only this time, he does it too hard, too aggressively, too fast. His hat falls right off his head.

Indigo hair tousled and without his shade to cover him, he's even more flustered than before, unable to do anything to hide from your gaze now. He peaks up at you through squinted eyes, trying to gander what your expression is, but being unable to make it out. You step closer to him, finally letting him bask in your scent, you smell of confectionary and grass and your skin, he can feel the warmth coming off of it.

There's a silence on both of you as he feels himself wanting to slink back away from you. Why are you quietly staring at him like that? He curses his heart for beating so loudly, he can barely hear. After what feels like hours of silence, of you just taking in every inch of his blushing face, you finally speak.

"You really are beautiful,"

(Chiori Story quest) I'M SORRY BUT HE SERVING 👏✨

Initiate

Male (Pure) Sydney x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

TW: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, exhibitionism, chastity cage, oral (f. receiving)

An initiate who hasn't been seen in the temple in weeks, Sydney wonders what happened to you. Your visits to the church lessened and lessened, until one day you just stopped showing up. Your presence wasn't forgotten quickly, not just by him, but by all other members of the church. Whispers would flow through the walls, whispers of impurity, of falling into lust.

At school you were the pinnacle of kindness and popularity. Loved by all, and sweet even to those who aren't to you. He finds it hard to believe what the other initiates say. Yet you still never visited the temple.

Sydney knows it's wrong to follow you, he asked the goddess for forgiveness, but curiosity gets the better of him. What would keep someone formally so committed to the church away from it? And what it was, was a strange building. Only a few streets away from the shop his father had purchased, he watched you enter that unmarked place, the filthy metal grey door closing behind you. It was in an awful part of town, and sketchy as well. After hours went by, his worry for you grew.

Grasping at his cross, Sydney followed you inside. He was met with an awful scent, similar to the communion wine, but stronger, loud pounding music, and worst of all, a plethora of people, none of them looking as if they had good intentions. In the middle of the room was a stage, and on the stage was you. In a state of undress, you were only covering your modesty with a pair of underwear. So thin it could barely be called fabric, more like strings on your groin, not leaving much to the imagination.

He flushed beneath his thick glasses, wanting to say something, but also finding himself entranced with the crowd of people. Your dancing was mesmerizing, your body…Sydney gulped and gripped his holy pendant tighter. Your body was heavenly, even as sweat soaked between every crevice of it. Your plush thighs gripping the pole in front of you, your heel clad feet making you twirl, showing off all your assets.

The voice in his head that's telling him to leave is drowned out by the feeling in his shorts. For the first time in his life, his chastity cage holding his cock is uncomfortable, it's too tight, it's painful as his hardening length presses against the confines. He tries to leave, but he can't. Not when you're on the floor of the stage dancing, money cushioning the hard wood as more wads of cash are thrown at you.

The people around the stage are like ravenous animals, hands clawing for just a touch of your skin. Their lips spew such venomous words of what they want to do to you, objectifying your body in ways he's never heard before. Some are even…fondling themselves. It's a sight that makes him gasp in shock, turning his head away before forcing himself to look back. Sure enough it's true, as you dance lewdly across the floor, they're touching themselves. It's disgusting. But he doesn't feel himself growing softer in his pants.

You sit with your legs open, already towards the crowd with a mischievous smile. Your finger dips inside your thong, hooking around the fabric. Slowly, tantalizing, you pull it down your body, down your thighs, down your shins, and last your heels. You hold the thong up with your legs still spread, your pussy dripping as you toss it out into the crowd, where they practically tackle each other to take it.

Up on that stage where you sit naked, body bare for everyone to see, money being tossed at you left and right, you finally lock eyes with him. It's be hard not to notice him, clearly out of place in a grimy area such as this, and still wearing his neat school uniform. A look of shock forms on your face when you see him there, shock and shame, but it's gone before any of your patrons can notice. You're back to being a temptress, an erotic dancer of the night, you curl your finger at him, beckoning him closer. Like his body has no mind of his own, he steps to you.

You ease yourself closer to the edge of the stage, the height of it meaning he's face to face with your dripping core between your legs. He's never been so close to something like this before, not outside the church. It's glistening beneath the flashing lights and only getting wetter as his hazel eyes look upon it. The smell is intoxicating, sweet like honey, he wonders if your nectar tastes the same.

“C’mon, lick it,” your voice so sultry it's like a song, you gesture for him to come even closer, until he can feel the what of your cunt against his face, “Give them a show.”

He looks around at the room of peopy, all eyes on him. They're hungry. They're ravenous. They're waiting patiently. With shaking hands he reaches up to spread your folds, begging the goddess for forgiveness once again. His hesitant tongue slithers from his mouth and he traces a reluctant lick all the way from your hole to your slit. The taste is…delectable.

Sydney pulls away from a second, thinking about what he'd just done, but when he looks up and meets your eyes, your cheeks flushed as you pant, he can't find it in himself to care. He dives back into your cunt, lapping away at your folds messily. His tongue finds it's way inside you, his hand reaching up to rub at your clit. If you're putting on a performance, it's a good one, moaning and squirming against his ministrations.

He can hear the way the crowd cheers, hear their filthy words and disgusting comments. He can hear it all, but if sounds like nothing to him. Nothing matters to him. Not when you're tangling your fingers in his hair and dripping down his chin, coating his face in that delectable, honeyed wetness. His glasses grow foggy, but it doesn't matter. His fingers dig into your thighs as he sucks at your clit, making your hips buck off of the stage.

“Ahh…yes…yes Sydney, just like that,” you moan for him, body trembling beneath his touch.

He'll have to stay on his knees for hours to pray for salvation and hope for forgiveness, it's only fair that he does. His chest heaving he looks down at his shorts, they're damp to the touch. He steps in an alleyway to the side to check on himself, opening his pants he sees his caged cock, covered and smeared in a white fluid.

You cum for him beautifully, a sense of pride filling him as you yank your body away from his touch to spasm on the stage. Your twitching cunt dripping down on all the bills below you. The crowds burst into cheers as Sydney’s mind looses it's cloudiness, as realization hits him. You pick up your clothes to leave the stage, but he's already rushing out the door before you can even dress. Out the door and down the street, he pants while wiping his mouth, trying to collect himself and think of what he did.