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magicalbats · 6 months

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Kinktober Day 13: Size Difference

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7129

Warnings: Afab!/reader, size difference, noncon, abduction, bathing, aphrodisiacs, drugging, bareback, stomach bulge, gendered terms

A/N: okay, look … I’ve been deeply in love with the Daythunder Eremites since we got our first glimpse of them right before 3.0 dropped. Did I lose the plot a little bit on this one? Maybe. But I’m actually obsessed with this NPC. I even went around and marked their locations on my map with the little meat pin. ✋😭 I quite literally ran OUT of available pins because of it. Not one single person better question why I picked him for this prompt instead of Enjou (I was extremely tempted tho, trust and believe that xmdkxk)

⭐

It was quickly becoming apparent that you were in a bit over your head with this commission. Between the wailing researchers on the ground, the frightened Sumpter Beast making a lumbering escape for the near distant tree line, the attacking Eremites and the damaged cart that had inexplicably caught fire at some point, the situation was clearly spiraling far out of your control.

Gripping your sword so hard it hurts, you try to take stock of what was happening and regroup. There wasn’t enough time to fully process it though. The small stretch of road — if you could even call it that — had devolved into complete and utter chaos in the blink of an eye, and you have to lurch to avoid the incoming swing of a huge battle ax before you can make any sense of it. But if there was one thing you knew, intrinsically, it was that there were too many of them for you to take on alone. It was too much for a single adventurer no matter how talented or skilled you may have been.

You dance back, not even daring to breathe as you agily avoid the weapon swinging at you with so much force you not only hear the violent displacement of air but you can even feel it too. This was incredibly dangerous. One hit from that ax would shatter bones, possibly even crush organs, and you’d likely be dead before the day was through. You had to get away but — pivoting your body, you steal a split second glance at the helpless researchers. They were cowering at the feet of a girl, no older than yourself, who was holding them at blade point while the other Eremites quickly worked to unload the cargo before it all went up in smoke with the burning cart. You needed to get away but so did they.

Clenching your teeth, you duck to avoid the next swing and dive under that huge, muscular arm to hit the dirt. You feel him shift behind you, alter the momentum and start to bring the heavy ax down right on top of you. Bracing for the destructive impact, you throw yourself forward into a stiff roll seconds before the ground erupts in a spray of dirt and grass that showers you in grime even when you skid to a halt some few feet away. Your heart feels like it’s going to slam right out of your chest as you frantically stumble to your feet on jelly filled legs, almost dropping your sword in your haste.

You couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to avoid that hit …

With a choked, gasping wheeze, you force yourself into a dead sprint, ignoring the thrumming terror that threatens to debilitate you as you dart across the road right towards the Eremite girl. You may not have been able to save their precious research but you could still save them!

“Run!” You scream, making her turn. It was too late though.

Leaning your shoulder into it, you slam into her so hard both of you go flying through the air to hit the ground in a heap. It knocks the air out of you (and her, by the sound of it) but you quickly roll away and struggle to your feet once again. There’s so much adrenaline pumping through your system you hardly even feel yourself moving, numb to everything going on around you, but you’re still distantly aware of the resulting scramble when the two researchers jump up to make a break for it. Good. At least now you could worry about yourself.

But you don’t quite make it that far.

The huge man with the ax is suddenly right on top of you — you hadn’t even seen him coming! Your heartbeat stutters a surprised beat and you just barely get your sword up in time to block his next swing. Unfortunately the force of it knocks your blade from your screaming hands, sending it pinwheeling up and away at such a high arc you could never hope to snag it and he doesn’t stop long enough to let you watch it fall back to the earth.

One second you’re stumbling from the impact. The next he’s snatching a fistful of your hair to yank you towards him, and you collapse at his feet on your knees. Sharp, stabbing splinters of pain shoot through your body but it’s quickly overshadowed by the agony of him using his hold on your hair to pull you upright, damn near taking you right off the ground. Seething, you force your eyes open to glare daggers at him when he bends close and puts his face inches from yours in a clear, obvious display of intimidation.

“That was a stupid thing to do.”

“I’ll kill her!” The Eremite girl shrieks, scrabbling to get up. “I’ll skin her alive and put her head on a spike!”

You go stockstill, lungs constricting painfully when you feel her reach for you. But, to your squawking surprise, the huge man physically drags you away from her and closer to himself like you were little more than a toy they were fighting over.

“Wait, Siri. Not yet.” He warns, the low growl in his voice growing stronger, and you sway in his hold with a suffocating feeling of dread. What a terrible situation to find yourself in. “Let me have this one. You can play with her when I’m done.”

“Do you really think I want your leftovers?” She snaps, both of them completely ignoring the way you wheeze between them. “She shoved me onto the ground, Aziz! She’ll be lucky if that’s all I do! I’m going to pluck out her eyes and - -“

“Enough, you two!” A third Eremite barks over. Still panting raggedly, you carefully turn your head even when it tugs at your hair to find another towering man standing some few feet away with one of the salvaged crates clutched against his chest. Idly, you realize the cart was almost completely engulfed in flames now and rapidly turning to smoldered ash. The guild was going to get such an earful from you if you made it out of this alive.

“But - -“

“I don’t want to hear it!” The other man cuts her off again. “We need to get this stuff out of here. Now! Those two researchers escaped so we need to be long gone before they send in backup. Bring the adventurer if you want, I don’t care. Just get your asses in gear.”

Clicking her tongue in annoyance, Siri shoots you a quick look that is no less chilling behind the red cloth hiding her eyes before stiffly pushing into motion. You watch her walk away to join the others, your stomach cramping with nerves, and it only gets worse when Aziz tugs on your hair to bring your attention back up to him again.

“Looks like you got lucky today. In more ways than one, I’d say.” Pausing, he puts his head to one side to send the braid over his temple swinging, and you can’t quite shake the impression of being a helpless rabbit caught under a tiger's paw. He was so massive, and the way he looks at you ... “I admit, your swordsmanship was pretty good. You’ve got good instincts even if you don’t have the strength to back it up. Tell me, little adventurer. Where do you hail from?”

You draw a steadying breath and try not to regurgitate everything that was in your stomach right down to the bile. “Mondstadt. I’m originally from Mond.”

“I see. You’re a far way from home then. I hope no one there is going to miss you too much.”

~*~

They lead you into a camp, blindfolded and with your wrists bound behind your back, but you recognize the distinct sounds of daily life for what they are immediately. You can hear children shrieking and laughing, weaving in and out of your peripheral senses in what could only be play. There were women murmuring nearby, speaking so low you couldn’t make out what they were saying when the grizzled voices of older men seemed to drown them out. You can just make out what you think must be a dog snuffling around your ankles in a quick burst of sound before darting away when they drag you further in and, somewhere, a goat bleats.

There’s sand under your feet now so you knew you were no longer in the lush rainforests of Sumeru but, rather, the desert. You’d never gone this far west before, precisely because of the grip the Eremites had on the area. Having heard plenty of stories about just how cutthroat they could be in the harsh environment they called home, you had wanted to avoid crossing paths with them if at all possible but a lot of good that had done you.

The acrid, dry air seems to rob you of the ability to breathe and you stumble, gasping against the grit and oppressive heat, when Aziz shoves you through what must be a doorway. Abruptly you’re enshrouded in a blanket of cool that is so noticeably different from the temperature outside it actually makes you shiver at the sudden change. He doesn’t give you a chance to truly appreciate it or sigh out in relief though, simply pulling you by the arm even when you nearly trip over your own aching feet.

His hand feels impossibly huge on your neck when he finally palms the back of it and shoves you down to sit on the floor, forcing your legs to splay under you at an awkward angle. Panting, you cautiously shift to settle on your butt even as he reaches up to loosen the knot he’d tied behind your head. It falls away with a quiet slither of fabric, and you blink into the gloom of what you quickly realize is a tent. His tent? You couldn’t be sure, and you weren’t entirely certain you wanted to know.

“You don’t have to do this …” You whisper into the stillness, and he just scoffs.

“You don’t even know what it is I’m going to do yet. Be patient, little adventurer from Mondstadt. You might like it.”

You very much doubted that, but hold your tongue on the slim hope that compliance might see you through this in one piece. Even if your arms hadn’t been secured behind your back it was obvious you still wouldn’t have been much of a match against someone like him. He’d already thoroughly cemented that back in the forest. Because not only was Aziz incredibly tall, he was also filled out and thick with heavy muscle mass. Just one of his biceps looked like it was greater in width than your thigh and you fully believed he could crush you like a grape if he so chose. With no other option available, you grudgingly acquiesce when he turns you around to face him.

He was still wearing his own blindfold, that rich red brocade hiding his eyes, but you recognized the way he looked at you even without being able to see them. You’re not entirely sure how he — or any of the Eremites — got around as well as they did without the use of their sight, and a tremor tears through you when he sedately reaches out to touch the side of your face. Not so much as a split second falter or other sign of hesitation. It was like he knew exactly where you were, like he could see through the material, and a fresh curling tendril of unease snakes through you at the thought of his people having some divinely appointed sixth sense. Was that why their strongest warriors covered their faces?

“You’re filthy.” He suddenly announces, and you know it’s not just the grit of dirt and sand he’s talking about. You were thoroughly drenched in sweat from the trek out here as much as your earlier standoff with him, and it was now quickly cooling to settle a chill over your sore body.

Jaw clenching, you turn your face from him. “Is it really any wonder? You almost took my head off back there.”

Chuckling softly, Aziz drops his hand to rest on his bent knee where he’s knelt in front of you. “Sorry about that. If it counts for anything, Siri almost took it too.”

You send him a slow, wary look. Was that really supposed to make you feel any better?

He just offers up an indifferent shrug of his broad shoulders though, and then moves to straighten up. Watching him walk over to a big clay pot standing sentry a few paces away, you momentarily toy with the notion of running while his back was turned but immediately quash the thought. The grim reality of the situation was not lost on you. Not only did you have no idea where you were and even less of an idea how to get back, you also had no working knowledge of how to survive in the desert. Even if you could get past him and then all the other Eremites outside, escape the camp, what would you do then? No food, no water, not even any supplies or extra clothes to keep you warm when night inevitably fell. You’d be a sitting duck for any hungry predators out on the prowl if hypothermia didn’t catch up to you first. You’d heard how cold it gets after the sun sets out here, and you weren’t sure if you were brave enough to take the chance …

It doesn’t matter either way. Before you can even consider changing your mind Aziz returns with a shallow bowl and a rag which you regard suspiciously when he sets it aside. You could guess where this was going, but it still shocks you a great deal that he then reaches for the front of your clothes like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to be doing, and without so much as an ounce of shame to show for it either.

“Wait - -“

“Hush, adventurer. I won’t hurt you so long as you play nice and remember not to bite the hand keeping you alive.”

Swallowing hard, you numbly watch him take the front of your guild uniform in hand and casually pop it open with a sedate tug that sends buttons flying in either direction. They fall near silent across the worn tarp that serves as the floor of the tent, and you draw a slow, shuddering breath. Try not to linger on the way his heavy knuckles brush against your chest while he pulls the shirt open to expose the silk chemise underneath. Distantly, you start to wonder if he’ll untie your hands just to get you undressed, thinking you might have a chance to flee after all — but then he rips at the fabric, giving you a sudden jerk at the force, and your mouth drops open in shock when it simply tears from you in a ragged panel.

Realizing he’s just going to peel it off you in pieces, you purse your lips into a tight line to stop yourself from crying out as he shreds your blouse to tatters and ribbons that fall to the floor around you in a pathetic heap. He does the same with the chemise and then your long skirt, pausing only long enough to yank away your boots, hose and, finally, your bloomers. You don’t give up the last without a fight but he doesn’t even seem to acknowledge all your squirming and twisting while he easily manhandles you to relieve you of your final dignity some moments later.

Seething, you primly squeeze your legs together to hide your most intimate spot from him but it barely gives Aziz pause. One of those massive hands reaches out to clamp around your ankle and he none too gently drags you across the floor to leave you laid out on your back. Ignoring your incensed hissing, he shifts and settles into a cross legged position in front of you before reaching calmly for the bowl.

“You remind me of a cat, you know that?” He murmurs, dipping the rag into the water to soak it through as you struggle back up into a sitting position.

“One of the Rishboland Tigers, I hope.”

He outright laughs. “No. You are like a very small, very feisty kitten that hasn’t yet learned her place in this world.”

You stiffen at that, narrowing your eyes at him, but he pays it little mind. Squeezing out the rag of excess water, he stretches his hand out towards your face again and you stubbornly try to crane your neck to escape it. Aziz just follows you though, and you give a startled little squawk when he finally presses the cool cloth into your cheek.

“That’s cold!”

Softly shushing you, he drags the rag over your skin to wipe away all the sweat, dirt and grime coating your face. Much to your grudging dismay you quickly find that it actually felt rather nice and he was not near as violent or brutish about it as his appearance would have suggested he’d be. It’s almost gentle, in fact, and you slowly find yourself relaxing into it with a stilted sigh. You would be glad to be clean again, even if you had to endure the humiliation of being washed like a child to achieve it.

Cautiously roving your eyes up when he starts to work his way down your neck, you take a moment to really study him. You couldn’t say for sure if he was looking back at you or if the brunt of his attention was focused on the task at hand, but you try not to let that uncertainty dissuade you. After all, if he was bold enough to undress you like this then surely he could handle a bit of staring. And you think, with no shortage of surprise, that he was probably handsome under that mask. His jaw was smooth and well defined, housing a pair of full, kissable lips that purse slightly when he scrubs at a splotch of dirt on your throat. You still didn’t like him very much after he’d almost smashed you to bits with his giant ax and then kidnapped you, spirited away into the inhospitable desert, but you couldn’t exactly deny what was in front of you.

Maybe if you’d met under (vastly) different circumstances …

“Do you like what you see?”

You sniff and look away to take in the rest of the tent. “Hardly.”

Aziz chuckles again while he rinses out the rag in the dish before bringing it back to your skin once again. “Such a grumpy little adventurer … what are you doing so far away from home? I’ve heard Mondstadt is very different from Sumeru.”

“It is,” You relent, hating yourself for leaning into his touch when he caresses over a throbbing spot on your shoulder. You must have banged it on the ground rolling around earlier, or maybe it was from plowing into Siri. “We don’t have any deserts or great big forests. Well … none like what Sumeru has, anyway. No tigers to worry about, either. All we’ve got are wolves, but they don’t usually attack humans.”

He hums a quiet sound of acknowledgement, taking a moment to massage into the aching muscle under his heavy fingers when he sees the pinch in your expression. “You miss it.”

It’s a statement, not a question, and you sigh. “Considering where I’m at right now, yeah. It’s kind of hard not to.”

“Grumpy.”

You try not to scowl at that, knowing it wouldn’t get you anywhere even if you kicked up a fit and fought him tooth and nail. At least he was being nice about it. That was one good thing in all this, you think — only to suck in a quick breath as he drags his hand lower to wipe your chest clean. You know it’s coming but it still pulls a quiet whimper out of you when the rag passes over your breast, catching at the nipple to send a static jolt through your body. Shirking, you try to twist away from him but it’s useless with your hands tied behind your back and he just follows you. The way he kneads and squeezes at the swell of flesh under the guise of cleaning you up doesn’t escape your notice, and neither does your reaction to it. But it horrifies you more than anything else and, steadying yourself, you try to rein it in. If ever there was a worse time for your baser urges to start taking over, this would have been it.

But rather than lingering, Aziz soon switches to the other side which he gives the same level of patient attention to. A handful of groping squeezes, a brief pinch to the nipple and then he’s moving on again. Your breathing starts to pick up as he works his way lower, swiping the rag under your breasts to lift and nudge them against his thick knuckles. His skin is rough and calloused on yours wherever it touches, and you hate the way it makes you feel. Hot and flushed, and just ever so slightly sensitized in his wake. A shudder tears down your spine when he starts running the wet cloth over your stomach.

“W - wait —“

He doesn’t wait. Doesn’t even so much as pause, and you try very hard not to yelp when he rather boldly swipes his hand from your bellybutton straight into the soft cradle of your thighs. Eyes widening in mute horror, you rock back and try to squeeze your legs shut to no avail. He just leans forward, invading your space again as his unoccupied hand comes up to wrap around the nape of your neck. You can’t quite believe it when he yanks you backwards and eases you onto the floor with perfect control that stops you from slamming your head back. It would have been quite impressive if only your heart didn’t feel like it was going to slam right through your ribcage and, mewling a desperate, frazzled noise, you make a last ditch effort to twist away. But he just holds you in place, keeping you pinned by the neck, while he bullies your thighs apart with the other hand.

A faltering, highly embarrassing sound bursts out of you when the damp rag presses firm against your cunt at last. He pauses there a moment to squeeze at you through the cloth, almost idly grinding his palm down and making you twitch, before finally dragging it further down to run along the slit in your body. Left wheezing in the aftermath, you just lay there and try to wrap your head around this confusing turn of events. You couldn’t make sense of it. Although you’d expected it on some level, wasn’t this still a little … strange?

The way he cleans you is almost so formal it seems to border on ritualistic. Like he was performing some kind of ceremony or rite. The horrifying thought that perhaps he was preparing you for sacrifice crosses your mind and you can’t quite stop from cowering when he pushes up to kneel on his knees beside you. But, to your squawking surprise, all he does is grab hold of your ankle again and uses it to pull you over onto your stomach like you were little more than an uncooperative toddler.

“H - hey! I’m not a child you know!”

“A great relief, I assure you.”

Flushing red hot, you force yourself to grow still and just lay there while he wipes across your back and arms, your sides, running down to your ass and then lower still to get the backs of your legs. It was an altogether humiliating experience and not one you’d like to repeat any time soon, but you couldn’t deny you felt nice and fresh by the time he finally finishes up a small eternity later. Squeaky clean, even. It’s a great improvement from your earlier state, at least, and you don’t protest when he hooks a hand under your arm to help you sit back up.

Deeply ruffled, you try to reorient yourself while he moves to dispose of the used water somewhere at the back of the tent. You once again consider making a run for it but … oh, it would be another matter entirely if they hadn’t blindfolded you! That was the only thing stopping you from trying. The very real possibility you’d pick the wrong direction and just end up wandering deeper into the desert without even realizing your mistake until it was much too late keeps you firmly rooted to the spot and certainly not because of the dull thrum in your cunt. Nope. Definitely not.

Aziz comes close again, snapping you out of your stunned trance, and you glance up as he kneels in front of you to warily eye the petite bone carved container in his hand. It was shaped like a flower, and something about it makes every hair on your body slowly stand on end.

“What is that?”

“A gift, for the little adventurer from Mondstadt.” He says, giving you (what you think has to be) a sly smile. “Are you afraid of oils and creams as much as you are of me?”

Your brow draws in uncertainty but you don’t get a chance to pick apart what he’s saying to find the meaning in it. Taking up the wiry bristled brush in his other hand, he unscrews the lid from the trinket and dabs the tip into whatever was inside. For a split second you think he’s going to put makeup on you for some inexplicable reason but then — the now smoothed brush looks wet when he reaches it out towards you, and you reel back with a gasp. He remains undaunted though, and you screw your eyes shut with a soft whimper.

Startled confusion marches through your mind when he just presses the brush into the side of your neck though, and your mouth immediately pops open at how sticky and cool it is. Before you can yelp about the sensation, he drags a harsh line down across the column of your throat, making you shudder so hard you think you’re going to collapse. But then the sweet, cloying scent of myrrh and lavender mixed together floods your nostrils and you snap your head back up in disbelief. Perfume?

“You look surprised,” He murmurs, reaching for the other side of your neck to draw another stilted line over your pulse. “Do you know what this is?”

You shift, more than just a little uncertain and ill at ease now. “I … I don’t think I understand.”

With a quiet hum, he dips the brush into the mysterious substance again. “You will. Give it time, and you’ll soon come to understand everything.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what to make of that ambiguous statement.

Struggling to maintain your calm, you watch his hand stretch out for you again but this time it arims towards your chest. You think he’s going to swipe that goopy liquid over the swell of your breasts but, much to your jolting surprise, he drags it straight down over your pert nipple instead. Stomach roiling at the sensation, you make another blithe attempt to lean away from it but just like every other time he follows you easily enough and flicks that bristled tip over the stiffened bud again. Your breath hitches when it almost immediately starts to grow warm and tingly, shooting a disbelieving look down at yourself even as he reaches to do the same to the other.

“W - what is that — ahhn!”

“Relax. You’ll feel good in a moment.”

Somehow you didn’t believe that at all, and you start to tremble uncontrollably there on the floor. But it soon occurs to you that it’s not just nerves making you shake like a leaf. Your tits grow sensitive and flushed against the wafting air, curling to fine, tight points on your chest as the liquid quickly cools. It makes your blood pound harder, your breath come faster, and you can’t help but squirm at the almost painful knot that curls low in your gut.

Dizzy now, you issue a quiet whimper into the still tent when you sway in a deeply intoxicated manner. “Dear, Archons - -“

You cut off with a startled yelp when he pushes you down again but you no longer have the presence of mind to fight it. Laying there twitching, you tip your chin to dazedly watch that massive hand curl around the meat of your inner thigh and pull your legs apart. Suddenly your nudity seems so stark and arousing it makes you gasp, eyes widening when you realize you’re getting wet. No, that wasn’t quite accurate. Your cunt was flooding and you wail an incomprehensible protest when he leans over you to bring the brush towards your defenseless slit.

“Little adventurer,” Aziz croons, keeping your legs spread under his palm as he teases the tip of the brush over your lips. “You should have stayed in Mondstadt where they don’t have such big men and potent aphrodisiacs to turn your body against you.”

Sucking in a harsh, rasping breath, you weakly fling your opposite leg up as if to shove at him but you miss by a wide mile and it just smacks back down to the floor, completely useless. It was like you’d been robbed of your motor skills and mental faculties in equal measure. It was hard just to think straight.

“W — why?”

Chuckling, he drags his hand down off your thigh to press into the meat of your labia and spread them, fully exposing your clit to the air. “I had fun playing with you earlier even if your little sword was no match for my ax. You still put up a good fight so of course I’d want to keep playing.” The soft haired brush slowly presses into the pulsing cluster of nerves and you go ramrod stiff, mouth falling open as if to scream but nothing comes out. All you can do is lay there, violently twitching, while he sedately drags it up and down, and side to side to draw even more sticky slick out of your body. “Unfortunately you are a very small adventurer and I am much too big for you to take easily. This will help you adjust to my size and even make it less painful too. You should be happy I’m showing you such kindness.”

Your head positively swims at the explanation, neck lolling bonelessly on the floor of the tent while you desperately try to sort through it all and cling to your cognizance at the same time. It’s no use though. The effects of the drug sweep you up much too quickly and pull you under. You feel like you're drowning in it, your pussy thrumming and squeezing around nothing even when he finally pulls away from your throbbing clit some time later.

There’s nothing at all you can do, not even protest, when he finds his feet and then leans down to haul you up against him. Clutched to his chest, you hang there in a lifeless, moaning heap while he walks to the opposite side of the tent where he deposits you onto a waiting bed of pillows that gently cradle your body when he sets you down. Paying no mind to your needy, gasping moans, Aziz leaves you there and retreats back to the clay pot you’d seen him fetch water from earlier to clean you with. On a distant, hazy level, you realize he’s going to wash himself next and you know you should probably be thankful for that. Know you should try to take this moment to escape even if it meant running buck naked out into the desert beyond his tent.

But you just can’t bring yourself to do anything except writhe and twist on top of the mountain of pillows, blithely trying to squeeze your thighs together and rub out the ache between them without the use of your hands. It’s no good at all. Just utterly hopeless when your body was pulsing so hot and so fiercely your limbs didn’t want to cooperate.

Idly, you think to try straddling one of the pillows so you can grind your cunt against it.

Weakly, you roll over and attempt to wriggle yourself on top of one — any of them, it didn’t matter, any would do when your need was so great — but you can’t quite seem to manage. All it does is drag your stiff nipples over the fabric and the stitching, and you issue a low, faltering groan when you realize it’s just making it worse. It was hard to breathe. You felt like you were going insane with the need to be stuffed and filled, and stretched and pounded into unconsciousness.

You’re so caught up in your suffering you almost don’t notice when Aziz finally returns to your side. You feel the pillows shift under you with the addition of his weight and you try to blink away the stupor at the same time that you abruptly realize you’re drooling. Grunting in surprise at suddenly finding that you were in such a state, you lift your head with an owlish blink.

The effects of the aphrodisiac were starting to lessen, receding at least enough to clear your head by a small margin …

Before you can celebrate, you feel his hands descend upon your bound wrists and the sensation of those calloused fingers on your skin punches an abrupt groan out of you. Okay, maybe the effects weren’t fading so much as your body was simply adjusting to the sudden, potent influx of endorphins but at least you could formulate a semi coherent thought now.

You cling to that small silver lining with every fiber of your shuddering being as he gets the rope untied, freeing your arms at long last, and then rolls you over. The room spins for a brief moment but when your eyes focus and you manage to look down they nearly pop right out of your skull. Not only was he completely nude, so massive and thick with muscle it startles a tiny squeak out of you, but he was also rock hard. And much, much bigger than you could have even imagined.

Somehow the fear of having that huge cock forced into your body seems to chase away a bit more of the muddled daze hanging over your head, and you bring your hands up in an awkward, uncoordinated rush to push at him. But when you jerk your attention up at his face, you stop dead in your tracks.

His mask was gone.

Aziz’s eyes were sharp and narrowly shaped to compliment the lean structure of his face, and his eyes … you suddenly forget how to breathe. You’d never seen irises so startlingly amethyst they looked like sparkling jewels.

He watches your reaction carefully, the intensity of that bejeweled gaze boring into you even as he crawls over top of you to settle between your legs. The demanding nudge of his rigid cock startles you back to reality, and you suck in such a frantic gasp of air it claws on the way down.

“No, wait - -“

His hand grabs under your chin and forces your head back so he can seal his mouth over yours and cut you off. You go ramrod stiff underneath him, eyes wide and wild even as you lift shuddering hands to weakly press into his chest. Archons, he was huge. The muscle bulges under your palms and tenses, flexing when he shifts against you to line himself up, and the full weight of what’s happening slams into you all at once.

Visciously, you tear your mouth from his with a warbling, intoxicated shriek. “Please, I can’t take it! It won’t fit!”

He issues a deep, rumbling chuckle and runs those thick, rough worn fingers across your flushed cheek to make you tremble anew. “You can. Do not fear it, little adventurer. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, didn’t I?” Pausing, he teases your entrance with the blunt head, making you wheeze at the feel of him so heavy and thick against delicate lips. You reel underneath him and try not to hyperventilate, but he just keeps you pinned and mostly immobile under his sturdy frame. Finally, at length, he says, “Shall I show you how far into you I’m going to reach and give you something to truly be afraid of?”

“Wha - -“

Jostling you when he pulls back, Aziz pushes up to put some space between your pelvis and his, and you almost sigh in relief when his cock retreats from your entrance. But then something fleshy and thick slaps down on your lower belly, effectively robbing you of the ability to breathe, and you slowly glance down at yourself in fast mounting horror. His cock stretches across your stomach, leaving a sticky trail of precum in its wake when he nudges his hips closer to line the base up with your cunt and settle into place.

It feels like the earth itself is opening up under you to swallow you whole. He’s almost long enough to touch your bellybutton, and that was to say absolutely nothing of his girth. His size makes you look small and incredibly petite in comparison, so much slighter than him in every way that you feel more certain than ever that it’s not going to fit. There was no way it would.

“Right here,” He intones, squeezing at the soft pouch around your middle and digging his thumb in for emphasis. “This is how much of you I am going to take for myself. Are you ready for me?”

A half strangled sob bursts out of your mouth. “No, no, no, no —“

Ignoring your mouse squeak protests, Aziz repositions himself at your entrance and slowly leans into you, sinking into the tight heat of your body one staggered inch of him at a time. You go still as a statue at the oppressive, suffocating sensation, your hands blindly flying up to brace against his broad barrel chest, but you can’t even find the wherewithal to cry out. All you can focus on is the gradual stretch of your body, the way he forces your cunt to spread and make room for him under that stilted pressure and … much to your gaping shock it doesn’t hurt half as bad as you’d expected it to. There was still a pinch of discomfort, your body unaccustomed to taking something so large, but the aphrodisiac seems to have served its purpose.

Not only were you soaked and pliant with arousal, but your guts were so soft now that he only needed to exert a small amount of pressure to ease further into you. There is no straining resistance, no tearing, no painful force necessary to claim your much smaller body for his own. It was staggering to realize how little struggle your cunt actually offers up and you stare at the spot between you two with nothing short of dumbfounded fascination.

Bit by bit, his length disappears inside you — a quarter, a half, two thirds and then … he’s seated in you straight down to the hilt, Aziz loosing a deep, hissing groan when his pelvis finally presses flush to yours. Whimpering, you spasm on his cock, disoriented and a little too shell shocked to do much of anything else. You’d never felt so full before. So stretched right to the limit and the total lack of pain sends your reeling mind spinning in an endless loop, just trying to grasp what was even happening. You never would have thought it was possible if you hadn’t seen it with your own two eyes.

“Watch, little adventurer,” He murmurs, drawing a piece of you out of your stupor when he bends close to put his forehead against yours, that loose braid swaying forward to tickle your temple. “Watch how I take you and how your body welcomes me in. You are mine now, and this is the proof.”

Meaningfully, he drags his amethyst gaze lower and, quaking wildly underneath him, you do the same, following his line of sight to look at where you’re connected. The muscles in his stomach flex, abdominals visibly tensing as he ever so slowly draws his hips back to drag against your inner sleeve. You very nearly go cross eyed at the sensation, so deep and unexpectedly pleasurable it almost sends you shuddering right over the edge, but you force yourself to keep watching. To watch how he pauses at the halfway point, his muscular waist swiveling forward to push back in, in, in, further and further until — the spot just below your bellybutton bulges up at the same time his pelvis meets yours again, and your mouth drops open in disbelief.

He really was reaching that far into you.

And you really had taken all of him.

Wildly clawing at him for something to cling to, you let out a series of frantic, bleating sounds when he slowly starts to angle back again, watching that bulge in your tummy recede and disappear with the retreat of his cock only to come pushing right back in a moment later. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from the spot on your lower belly where he keeps pushing up under the skin at an increasingly quicker pace, repeatedly punching the same spot into a soft, rounded bulge. A low ache starts to build deep in your body and somewhere in the back of your cotton stuffed mind you find the wherewithal to realize how sore you were going to be after this. The aphrodisiac would wear off eventually and you would be left in the aftermath to deal with the aching stretch, the throbbing reminder of how he’d felt moving inside of you and the lingering effects of getting pounded by something so big it felt like it was actively rearranging your guts.

This was in no way what you’d signed up for when you took on this commission, nor is it why you left Mondstadt.

It’s at that moment, when he’s working his hips hard and fast enough that a steady plap, plap, plap seems to dominate the space inside the tent that you realize you really did miss it. You missed Mondstadt and you wanted to go home. Soon. Immediately after he let you go.

He would let you go … wouldn’t he?

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #daythunder eremite #daythunder x reader #self insert bullshit

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