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#zhongli/you
glimmeringtwilight · 2 years
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After Hours
Modern AU Zhongli fic for the follower celebration! Took me fucken long enough... Not edited (or at least not as much as I'd like).
CW: Implied drugging but not explicit, light yandere themes, heavily implied imprisonment, unhealthy relationship dynamics, boss/worker relationship. Overall this one's actually pretty tame, all things considered.
Word count: 3.4k
There’s something weird about the look in your boss’s eyes when you come in to deliver him his coffee. 
It’s a little ritual you’d started, something you thought would be nice (and maybe you want to suck up to him, just a little bit), bringing coffee to your boss. You made sure to bring coffee to some of the coworkers you liked as well so they didn’t tease you for your harmless habit, and if you were in a really generous mood, you’d bring some to the coworkers you didn’t always get along that well with. It was nice seeing them smile at you for once, even if it came from coffee bribes. 
It didn’t stop all the teasing, though. Appeasing your coworkers with coffee only goes so far. Still, they were careful to only tease you about your little crush whenever Zhongli wasn’t in the office, out on business trips or important meetings. 
You stopped arguing with them. You were a terrible liar, anyway, and it’s not like you’re the only one in the office with a crush on him. He’s handsome. You’re sure even some of your married coworkers have a crush on him. 
And bringing him coffee is harmless, anyway. His assistant used to do it every morning too, before he’d delegated her to something (assistant stuff, you don’t know what it is she does, exactly) that demanded her attention each morning and she no longer had the time. 
But lately, your boss has been giving you odd looks whenever you step into his office, coffee in hand, setting it on his desk in front of him before wishing him a good morning and returning to your own duties. 
You wonder if you did something wrong. Does he not actually like coffee? You assumed he did, asking his assistant for his coffee order so you could surprise him. He seemed pleased with it, at first. He always smiled and thanked you… What changed?
Maybe he was just humoring you before. Maybe you got his order wrong. Or you mixed up his drink with someone else’s… But nobody else complained about the coffee you’d bring them.
Today was another one of those days. 
Zhongli’s already poring over the reports from yesterday when you come into his office, pen quietly scratching against the paper as he writes. 
You set the coffee against his desk and he glances up from the papers to you, then to the warm cup. 
“Oh, thank you.” His tone is polite, but there’s that look again. You wish you knew what it meant. It’s not… anger. Or annoyance. If it were either of those, at least you’d know. You’d quit while you’re ahead, and stop this silly routine. 
But it’s not. And you don’t know what it is, so until he says something, you’ll pretend it isn’t there. 
“You’re welcome, sir.” You’re careful to keep your voice pleasant, avoiding his eyes. 
He doesn’t say anything else. He’s still staring at you. 
“...Well. I should get to work.” It’s awkward, like the smile you force before you turn on your heel to leave his office.
Zhongli calls your name and you stop dead in your tracks. Oh fuck. 
“Before you leave for the day, would you mind stopping by my office to help me with some of these reports? I’d like to borrow your eyes, if you don’t mind.” Oh. That’s it? Your shoulders slump with relief, and you don’t know when you’d hitched them up. You’d briefly wondered if he’d fire you over coffee, as silly as the worry seemed. 
“Sure thing, sir.”
You look over your shoulder to see a small smile on his handsome face, and you wonder if he knows this– knows how handsome he is, knows it’s part of the reason you’d started bringing him coffee every morning as an excuse to linger around his office longer than a simple “good morning” would permit. 
“Thank you.” He looks like he’s about to say something more, hesitating on the word resting still on his tongue. Then, he blinks, looking back down at the papers on his desk, and it’s gone. 
You turn and leave without another word. 
The rest of the day drags on, dulled by the prospect of getting to spend time after work with your boss. Sure, it’s for work stuff, but still! 
It drags on, but eventually 5:00 rolls around and you get up from your desk, not bothering to collect your stuff just yet before making your way to Zhongli’s office, knocking on the door. 
“Come in,” His voice rumbles from behind the door, and you step inside quickly, shutting the door behind you as you do. 
Zhongli’s sat at his desk like this morning, except now his coat is draped over the arm of his chair, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You try not to gawk at his arms, pointedly looking at everything but him until you stop in front of his desk. 
He takes two stacks of papers, handing them to you. “I’ve already finished with these, I just want you to look over them and make sure I haven’t missed anything.”
You nod. “Sounds easy enough.”
He smiles, motioning toward the seat beside his desk, and you try not to linger on how close it seems to him, even if there’s a few feet between that chair and his own. You take a seat, thumbing through each stack of papers. It’s just reports. Nothing interesting. 
Zhongli goes back to work, and so do you.
You fall into a routine with him. Every day, when you come into work, he asks you to stay late again and help double-check his work. It’s a little odd, you realize. Why you? Why not his assistant? Your job description doesn’t even cover this. You just work in IT. 
Still, you don’t complain. You get the opportunity to spend time with your hot boss after work. You’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. 
It still unnerves you, the odd look on his face when you deliver his coffee. And sometimes you catch him staring at you out of the corner of your eye. But whenever you look over at him to catch him in the act, he’s poring over paperwork as usual. 
You don’t mind the routine, but… It eats into your social life. You find yourself only having time to spend with your friends on your days off, and even then, not always that. Work starts calling you in on your days off. You have to cancel plans more and more often. Your friends begin to drift away. 
It goes on like this for a month before you confront your boss about it, stepping into his office  like any other morning, coffee in hand. 
Your hand shakes when you set it down. He notices. 
Zhongli sets down his pen, focusing his attention on you and frowning when you shrink anxiously away. You know you need to have this conversation. You need to set boundaries, let him know he can’t work you to death like this, but…
It still makes you nervous. You’re scared he’ll fire you if you put your foot down, and you really, really need this job. No other employer pays as much as he does, and with the cost of rent where you live now…
“What’s wrong?”
“I..” Your throat dries up, and you swallow. “I wanted to talk to you. About my hours.”
He raises a brow, motioning for you to continue.
“I don’t mind staying a little bit after to help you look over reports and all, but I need my days off. I can’t keep doing this without a break.”
Zhongli looks confused. “I wasn’t aware. I noticed you’ve been here on a few of your days off, but I didn’t realize it was becoming a frequent occurrence.” 
You nod. “Well, it has.”
“Your department manager is the one who’s been calling you in, correct?” You nod again. “I’ll speak with him.”
Your shoulders slump in relief, thanking him as you slip quickly out of his office to let him go back to work. It’s a relief to know that he’s understanding, and a bigger one to know that he wasn’t aware you were so overworked. Even if he was the reason you were being called in (and not… whatever it was your manager was calling you in for. You’ll have to speak to him about it later), it probably wouldn’t have come from a place of malice. Everyone knows the boss is a workaholic. He probably doesn’t realize that not everyone practically lives in the office.
You get your days off that week, no calls from work. 
The next week, as you’re doing your daily routine with Zhongli and poring over papers beside him (at some point the chair you’ve been using was moved next to his own so you could share the desk, not that you’re complaining), Zhongli abruptly looks up from his work, setting down his pen. You look up from your own stack of papers, curious. 
“I’d like to take you to dinner.” What. You stare at him, dumbfounded, so he continues, “As thanks for your help these past few weeks.”
Ah. So not as a date. You try not to deflate. Still, it’s not like you’d want to pass this up. Free food is free food. And besides, it’s not a good idea to date your boss, no matter how handsome he is. 
“Sure!”
It’s harmless. Just dinner with your boss, a small “thank you” for your hard work. You see nothing wrong with it. So when he makes a habit of inviting you to dinner, you don’t think anything of it. 
You try, at least, not to drink any alcohol on these dinners, wanting to avoid making a fool of yourself in front of your boss. It’s not that you have a particularly low tolerance to it, you just… Never learned to take small sips, instead downing your drinks as quickly as possible. Besides, agreeing to these outings was questionable enough, you don’t want to get drunk around him too and end up doing something you regret. 
But after a few weeks of this routine and a particularly stressful day of work, you give in and order some wine for the two of you. 
“I didn’t know we shared the same taste in wine,” Zhongli remarks, examining the label after the waiter sets it down on the table and leaves. “This is my favorite kind.”
You try to look surprised, as though you totally didn’t interrogate his assistant earlier that day. “Oh, really?” 
It’s not creepy. You only really chose his favorite wine so you’d feel less guilty for spending his money on it– even though he insisted on paying for these dinners. You were also curious to know what it tasted like, anyway, having never tried it yourself before. 
There’s a knowing look in Zhongli’s eyes, and you feel an embarrassed blush creeping up. “...I just thought it sounded interesting, honestly.” A half-truth. 
He pours you a glass and you drink it quicker than you probably should. Hey, at least then you can pretend the flush is just from the alcohol. 
You’re three glasses in when you realize that you’re definitely drinking way too quickly. Zhongli’s hardly made a dent in his own drink, making you wonder if it’s a stronger wine than you first thought. 
It was.
Those three glasses hit you hard, and even drunk, you still have the mind to feel ashamed. Ashamed isn’t the only thing you feel though, as Zhongli leads you back to his car and you take the opportunity to hold onto his bicep perhaps a little less innocently than you should. 
He’s unusually silent, so you assume you’re being slick when you squeeze his arm a little, feeling the firm muscle through his dress shirt. You’re being helped into the passenger seat, a little reluctant to let go of his arm, but you forget your reluctance when he has to lean across you to buckle you in. 
He smells like sandalwood, and… something else you’re too drunk to place right now. You’re not even sure if he actually smells like sandalwood, only placing the scent from candles you remember liking the smell of in bookshops. 
The car rumbles to life. Zhongli must have gotten into the driver’s seat while you were busy trying to dredge through your memories of scented candles and soap shops and bookstores to place what his cologne smells like. 
His car smells like him, you think absently. The radio plays at a quiet drone, too soft to really act as more than just background noise. Your eyes flutter shut. 
You open them again when you feel something jostling you. Zhongli murmurs an apology to you as he lifts you out of the car into his arms. You can hear his heart beating steadily against one ear, and the warmth of his arms paired with the gentle thump of his heart lulls you back to sleep. 
The next day, you wake up in a bed that’s not your own. 
You panic, sitting up. A sharp pain throbs behind your eyes at the motion, making you wince, but you force yourself to stand and step out into the hall. The marble tile is fucking freezing against your feet, biting through your socks, and you wonder what happened to your shoes. 
Hopefully, waking up alone means that nothing happened last night. That you just fell asleep drunk. That you didn’t fuck your boss, effectively throwing your career away in one fell swoop. 
You find Zhongli in the kitchen (after a few minutes of wandering around the halls– his house is fucking huge), already nursing a cup of coffee. It’s bizarre seeing him in such a domestic setting, dress shirt swapped for a black turtleneck. 
“Good morning.” 
“Good morning,” You glance around. “Um… Where are my shoes?” Smooth. You should write a book. Social Etiquette for Dummies. 
Zhongli, at least, doesn’t seem offended by your half-awake brusqueness. If anything, he looks understanding.
"In the foyer. I set them by the door." He pushes another mug your way, filled halfway with plain black coffee. “I’ll admit, I don’t know how you take it, so I figured it best to leave to you.”
Your hangover is both a blessing and a curse, distracting you from the awkwardness, but the throbbing of your head is killer. The light hurts your eyes, you feel nauseous… you regret waking up. 
“...How are you feeling?”
“Like shit,” You mumble, taking a sip of the black coffee he gave you, too hungover to care about the bitterness. At least it tastes like it’s quality coffee instead of whatever ungodly imitation of coffee seems to manifest in the breakroom at work. You’re convinced your coworkers just restock the breakroom with the worst “coffee” known to man as a prank.
Zhongli stands up, rummaging through some cabinets before you hear the rattle of a pill bottle. He comes back with two pills in hand, dropping them into your palm and returning to his seat. “Take the day off.”
“Sure.” Like hell you’ll look that gift horse in the mouth. You take the pills offered to you, downing the rest of your coffee with it and praying it kicks in soon so you stop feeling nausea swelling in your gut with every sudden movement. 
The two of you sit in comfortable silence as he finishes his own coffee, and you feel the pain slowly ebbing. When he finishes his cup, he takes yours and sets both in the sink before turning to you. 
“Do you remember when you first joined the company, what I’d said to you then?” He asks suddenly. 
You try to blink the lingering tiredness from your expression. “Er… no?”
Zhongli’s gaze turns distant, tipping his head up to look at the ceiling as he recalls, “‘You are a cut above the rest.’ Even then, I’d known you would do well at the company. Your past spoke for itself, and you’ve more than proved yourself enough with your work ethic.”
Where is this coming from? Why is he talking about this now? 
“I was a little disappointed when you turned down my offer of making you my assistant. I realize the job description is a little… lackluster, but it paid more than the position you applied for, and with your set of skills I thought you were perfect for the position.” Ah. You’d forgotten about that. He’d only offered once, but he looked understanding when you turned him down. You thought he’d forgotten too, honestly. 
“I remember,” You start, unsure of where this conversation is headed, “I just didn’t want to change my mind at the last minute and end up with a job I’m not motivated to do… No offense. I just… I had my heart set on the position I applied for.”
“I see.” He looks like he’s weighing your words carefully as he chooses his next ones. “And is it what you wanted? Is it your dream job, as it were?”
You laugh. “Well. No, honestly.”
“Then, what is your dream job?” There’s a slight bit of dread beginning to form in the pit of your stomach. It’s like he’s fishing for something, trying to coax a certain response out of you, but you don’t know what or why he’s doing it. 
“Well…” You humor him. You ignore the trepidation beginning to pluck at your nerves. He’s just asking simple questions, he’s not doing anything wrong… “To be honest, nothing. I’d rather spend my time traveling, seeing the world, learning new skills. I guess I could technically be a freelancer in that sense…?” 
“And are you happy, working with the company?” 
You should lie. You should lie and say yes, beyond the shadow of a doubt. What spills from your lips instead, is: “It has its ups and downs.”
Zhongli motions for you to continue.
“It…” You feel hot. “It’s… boring. But it pays well. And my coworkers are nice enough. Mostly.”
“Mm.” He taps his fingers against the countertop. “But are you happy?”
“I’m not unhappy. My job is fine.” 
Zhongli stares at you. You can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. It’s sweltering in here suddenly, and his sudden strange line of questioning is not helping. His eyes hone in on the way you shift uncomfortably, tugging at your collar. 
“Are you feeling alright? You look… unwell.” That look again. The one he’d give you when you bring him coffee in the mornings, but it’s gone again when you blink. 
“I- I’m just a little warm, is all.” You excuse quickly, moving to stand. The room spins concerningly at the movement. 
He’s at your side the second you sway unsteadily, taking ahold of your shoulders to steady you and placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “You’re running a fever.” 
You interrupt him as he begins to guide you back to the room you woke up in by digging your heels against the tile (as ineffective as it is). “S-sir, I should really be heading home now.”
“... I’m afraid I’ve been pushing you too hard, lately. Please, just humor me and rest here a while until I can get you something to help you with that fever.” Zhongli’s stopped almost dragging you back now, but he gives an insistent squeeze to your shoulder. 
It feels less and less like a request as his grip on you tightens with your silence. 
You concede. “I suppose that’s alright…” 
“Wonderful.” You’re practically swept back up into the bed once he guides you into the room, toeing the line between appropriate and… something else. Zhongli’s expression is neutral, unreadable, and he pulls away when you settle back against the sheets. “I’ll have to run to the store to pick up something to help with the fever, just rest here until then.”
You… feel like you’re sat in the mouth of a predator, its jaws slowly closing around you. You nod. The room spins with the motion. 
Zhongli casts one last glance over his shoulder at you before shutting the door, and you belatedly realize what the look in his eyes was. Obsession. 
The lock on the door clicks, the jaws snapping shut.
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blueparadis · 3 months
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when you sit on his lap, legs spread apart from each other, folded and glued along his thighs your dragon!boyfriend knows that it is time for some "instinct inspection" or as you like to put it but he knows that it will eventually end up being much more than that; it always does: either end up him getting hard when you are done or you hurt yourself spilling blood in drops. tsk, what a waste!
but today, it is going to be more than that. . .
"Say ahh," you would order, just like other days, before grazing your index finger against his fangs. At first, it does not grow, you just feel the sharp edge of his fangs on your supple skin. what a tease you are! It grows when you pull away your hand and adjust on his lap for a better grip and angle.
"Bad manners," you would say whenever you spot him letting go of his human form. he even remembers hearing that when he lowly growling in front of strangers who were following you the other night but at times like these, when the whole world is busy, when no one is looking at you two—he can let go of it; that carefully crafted camouflaged self to fool your kind and let his dormant side take over.
"It is just a bite," he would say after sucking your blood from your wrist as he held your arm by the wrist. But it is kind of frustrating, don't you think? how you are sitting on his lap, checking if he has hunted any animals or eaten your kind or not. And when you see he has been such a good boy, slowly learning to control his habits and instincts, don't you think it's a little unfair when you don't reward him? He licks the trickling blood along your hand from up your elbow to your wrist; you can see two dots, fairly distanced and round but somehow it does not hurt.
To think that you would teach him about 'control' and 'instinct', what a naive human being you are.
Even though you are still sitting on his lap, one of his hands holding yours from where he freshly sucked your sweet blood and your other hand is holding his yet you feel something tightening around your belly. You do not stop him as his tail wraps around your body, his eyes slowly getting to glow, his skin changing, shining but before he changes completely you kiss him, kiss him with full might as if you will do the moment your lips part from his.
And when you pull away, he just takes deep breaths and says, "One more time," gulping he adds, "Please," now how could you turn that down even though he has been quite rebellious.
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averaillisa · 1 month
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ceniwen · 3 months
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zhongli please stop cosplaying as a human your adeptus has social anxiety and can't cope
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qiinamii · 9 months
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"Xiao does things" (and friends) twitter log
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yaekko · 23 days
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  TO THE HILT
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⋆ wriothesley, zhongli, neuvillette + fem!reader.
 ⋆ mdni. knotting for the first time, breeding kinda, creampies, lots of pet names n praising like baby, sweetheart, darling, good girl, my love, wife ( zhongli,,, we all act surprised ), pussy drunk neuvi. no proofread ;(
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WRIOTHESLEY
the first time Wriothesley knots you it almost happens like an accident, the duke, —too lost in the warm and tight clutch of your pussy around his cock, continuously smacks his hips against yours, the sound, filthy and wet resonates through the walls as his balls slam on your ass; that, or at least you think it’s his balls until they start to push in, a tiny bit with each thrust into your cunt.
“W-wrio?!” you gasp, genuinely terrified and quickly raising on your elbows to watch the engorged base of his cock, red and swollen, pulsing in need to release.
“t’s alright, baby, I got you, relax” he huffs back, sweat trickling down his forehead and sticking the dark locks of hair against his skin, “is just my knot..., you’ll take it, yeah? it’ll feel so good, I promise”
“I-i don’t think it’ll fit...” you squeal, thighs spread wide and hooked from under by your boyfriend’s strong muscular arms, spreading you wider for his hips to comfortably slot between yours for what was about to come.
“yes it will, sweetheart” it’s almost imperceptive the tiny hiss Wriothesley let’s out at your words, cock throbbing inside your dripping walls, continuously spurting precum that messily connects your bodies, “trust me, alright? i’ll take care of you” he grunts, eyes about to roll back from the sheer self control he puts on himself as not to fill your tight hole with his knot at once.
steadily he begins to push it into you, a thumb finding your clit and rubbing in right circles, helping you ignore the continuous stretch “fuck!, your body is so responsive” Wriothesley groans, eyes drifting between your pleasure contorted face and the way your cute pussy struggled to take him whole, fluttering wildly and gushing slick.
like a tidal wave, your orgasm takes you over hard, eyes crossing and back arching the second a soft 'pop' was heard and Wriothesley’s knot was fully wrapped by your quivering walks.
“good girl” he rasps, raising your thigh to push just a tiny bit deeper, enough for the air inside your lungs to get knocked out and Wriothesley’s cum to coat your insides, “told ya it’ll feel good” it comes as a whisper against your neck, followed by the warm and wet feeling of your boyfriend’s tongue under your ear, “i’ll knot you every time we fuck” he promises, “until you get used to it”
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ZHONGLI
at least with a warning beforehand, you knew what to expect as soon as Zhongli was balls deep into your cunt.
“breathe, my love” he keeps you grounded, a hand on your mound, gently and kindly rubbing your clit until you’re impossibly wet and slick to ease the pain of his knot, another in your nipples, pinching and tugging for your moans to turn into high pitched whines.
“you’re doing so well, my beautiful wife” Zhongli murmurs low, almost an exhalation as his hips start to pick up his pace again, gently pushing the engorged base of his cock inside your pussy, covering your whimpers with his fleeting kisses.
“that’s it, i’m almost done” always so reassuringly, even though you can barely stutter out his name through the pleasure daze, it’s surprising how much control Zhongli has on his own emotions, maintaining that calm facade although his brow often twitches and cock throbs between your folds.
“Zhongli...” you manage to croak, throat hoarse from the intense screams and moans of his name slipping past your lips.
“yes, I’m here” he breathes, leaning down to brush his lips across your jaw, yet his hands continue their assault on your sensitive spots, one extra rough tug on your nipple and his knot is tightly snuggled inside of you, “there we go... so good, my love”
“can you feel me inside your pretty pussy? i’m so deep, my love, I need to fill you fully as you cum on my cock, can you do that for me?” Zhongli whispers, so tenderly and a whole lot opposite to his lewd words.
and you really don’t need much to cream around his cock, a few humps into your sensitive and overly stretched pussy and you’re screaming his name, body convulsing and milking him for every drop of cum directly into your womb.
“my gorgeous wife, you did an amazing job” Zhongli murmurs between ragged gasps, a low hum of satisfaction brewing from the depths of his throat as he finally stops coming inside of you.
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NEUVILLETTE
something you expected was for Neuvillette to be eager to please, what you did not expect, was for the man to completely and utterly lose his mind as soon as his name came out of your lips like a prayer.
you feel exposed, slightly embarrassed by how tightly Neuvillette keeps his grip on your waist, maintaining your arms steady on both your sides as he plunged into you from below, the bed slightly creaking under the shared weight and inhumane movement.
“my love, my beloved” he murmurs, lost in the sensation of your tight pussy clenching around his cock, keeping him flush inside your walls like he kept you against his sweaty chest, “you feel divine” Neuvillette moans, eyes closed and diving into the sensation, he always got this way, lost in pleasure, drunk in love with you and the squeeze of your cunt.
“i need to be fully inside of you” it comes like a breathless whisper, almost a beg, “will you allow me?” he swallows, “to claim you inside and out?”
you can only nod, way too quickly and barely register the meaning behind those words, but Neuvillette’s eagerness picks up, loudly smacking his hips against your own, the sound muffling your own screams and his grunts.
his tongue comes in contact with your nape, licking a fat strip across the skin of your shoulder and softly nibbling on it, slightly turning you around so you’re now laying on your side with a thigh spread and above his own.
“Neuvi... please” you cry out, nails digging into your palms in frustration, but the beautiful sound of his name coming so desperately from your lips is enough for the man to allow you to move, freeing your hands and instead, coming to hold your hips, rocking you back and forth against his cock and knot that slowly sinks inside of you.
“hold onto me” he rasps and you try, sobbing onto the pillow as your hands reach back, fingers wrapping tightly around Neuvillette’s wrists in an attempt to ground yourself.
ever since the first time you had sex with your lover, you were aware of his dragon anatomy, and how desperately his instincts kicked every single time he was balls deep in your dripping cunt, so at least, the surprise wasn’t that big as your breath hitched and hole fluttered impossibly fast, attempting to swallow his knot.
it seems like all coherent thought leaves Neuvillette as well, since his continuous mumbling of praises turned into groans and moans as his cock coated your insides with thick cum, messily, — much against his usual composed self, humping your pussy, attempting to keep you stuffed and satiated as the last tremors of your orgasm subsided.
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toasteaa · 23 days
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Everyone loves the Boyfriend Jacket, but what about the Husband Coat?
Diluc draping his coat across your shoulders because you forgot your own? Immediately looking the other direction to hide the heat coming to his cheeks when you settle into it?
Zhongli's thinly veiled swell of pride when he sees his coat around your shoulders? Savoring the scent of your perfume as long as he can for days after you've returned it to him?
Wriothesley's little half complaints about the chill in his office after you've taken his coat? Hiding how much he actively enjoys the sight of you utterly swamped in the fur and bulk of fabric?
Neuvillette having removed his mantle and stole in order to drape his robes across your sleeping form? His inability to completely focus back on his work after he sees how immediately you curl into it with that satisfied little hum he's come to enjoy so dearly?
Just...husband coats...
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angelltheninth · 2 months
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Genshin Men + When You Lean Up to Kiss Them
Pairing: Kaeya, Itto, Dottore, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, teasing, height difference, princess carry, biting, kissing, sitting on his lap
A/N: Yes, I'm short, I will need to stand on my toes to kiss them.
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Kaeya smirks as he crutches down and gets on eye level with you, his hands on your hips before he scoops you up into a princess carry to kiss you. As he puts you down you have to balance on your toes to not break the kiss. It becomes a battle of who can keep kissing the other longer. There's no real winner.
Itto has the hugest, most heart warming smile on his face when he sees how you wrap your arms around his neck and look up to him. When you ask for a kiss he doesn't have to bend down if he doesn't feel like it but who is he trying to fool? He can't say no to a cute girl like you.
Dottore thinks it's cute how you want to kiss him but you know the rules, you need to ask properly and no amount of batting your lashes at him will do the trick. You need to either say it or to climb onto his lap and take what you want. He knows you can, you've spent enough time with him, you should be able to be a bit more assertive.
Neuvillette leans down and rubs his nose against yours before bending into a full kiss. It wasn't often that he had to do this before he met you, he was rather happy looking down on people actually, they weren't worth the time. But you are, you're always worth coming down to for a kiss.
Wriothesley almost lets his tough mask slip when you cup his cheeks and start leaning up to kiss him. He doesn't want you to notice his ears getting red so kissing you is the perfect way to distract you from that. The funny thing is that he could easily carry you but he finds it cute how you brace on his shoulders just to kiss him.
Zhongli pretends that he doesn't see what you're trying to do. Pulling him down doesn't work so you decide to stand up as much as you can to kiss him, only he responds by biting your lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth. You weren't the only one wanting a kiss, he just wanted to see how far you'd go for one.
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azullumi · 9 months
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“his habits during it” ; genshin men
warning — nsfw content ahead but nothing that graphic or explicit (seriously i tried my best to not even mention the word sex and the genitals)
summary — there’s one thing he loves to do whenever the two of you get in bed together.
characters — diluc, kazuha, ayato, kaveh, alhaitham, tighnari, cyno, zhongli, and wanderer (w/gender-neutral reader) ; no specified anatomy nor even mentioned parts
tags — kind of fluff, nsfw, not proof-read (wrote this while i was irritated and needed something to pour my attention to) ; headcanons
words — 1265
note — hey siri, how do you say they’re fucking without saying they’re fucking
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handholding
DILUC — (i have already said this before) diluc likes, no, he loves the intimacy the simple act of holding one’s hand has even when two of you are just walking together side by side or when his skin is pressed against yours, lips colliding against one another, and he’s whispering words of affection to your ears—a mere distraction and a sense of comfort, grounding you and keeping you with him. it’s just that effortless gesture of intertwining his hand with yours, locking fingers, as he indulges in the way you feel around him. he squeezes your hand in the middle of it all and oh, how he melts so much when you also squeeze his own in return. he could never tell you how much you make him so soft and weak with just the slightest hold.
eye contact
KAZUHA — “don’t look away now,” he coos at you, seeing how you shy yourself and avert your gaze away from him which he obviously didn’t like. he likes seeing you coming undone while you try to remain eye contact with him—it pleases him seeing your features contort into into what you are currently feeling—, likes teasing you every time you try to look away from him and hide your expression, likes saying such remarks that gets you embarrassed most times just so he could see and watch the change of your expressions every single time. he just loves looking at you, adoring you with his eyes, especially more so when you also do the same and keep contact, gaze nailed on each other.
praises and talking dirty
AYATO — he’s a talker, both outside the matters in the bedroom and inside the sheets, so it’s no wonder that he always shower you with praises in every chance that he gets even if you’re not in the right mind to respond or even comprehend what he’s saying. he conveys most of his affections through the words that falls out of his lips, finding it so easy to say such things and teasing you with it, he can’t help it, can he? how could he not when you look so pretty—not only outside the bedroom—or beautiful, or handsome, or lovely, or anything that he could think of right at that moment when he sees you naked? Even if he had held and seen you with nothing to cover your skin so many times, he still gets mesmerized by the sight of you like it was his first time.
playing with your hair
KAVEH — he plays with it, he tugs on it, pulls on it, and everything. and though it gives him some sense of control especially when he pulls on it, it also grounds him and helps him realize the affection and love being shared between you two in this intimate moment. sometimes he only dances his fingers on your head, treating you softly and tenderly with the delicate hold of his hand on your hair, which could often provide a huge contrast to what he’s actually doing, the rough treatment he’s giving you which makes you roll your eyes and see spots in your vision. “you look so pretty like this, my love,” he would say before tugging your hair back to take a good look at your face or to tilt your head in a way that gives him more access to your neck.
lots of kisses
TIGHNARI — gently laying you down the bed? kisses you while doing so. sliding your clothes off your body? presses his lips against yours before trailing down, tracing your jaw, his mouth making its way down your neck, and resting on your collarbone. asking you consent? he kisses you before he speaks. he presses gentle kisses of adoration all over you as he pushes himself into you, your bodies becoming one in the process, providing comfort and easing you as he could feel your nails digging deep into his skin and possibly, leaving marks and wounds but he didn’t mind. his fondness and desire murmuring into you, helping you breath and regain yourself. it was clear that his way of affection was simply just kissing you.
giving orders
CYNO — he doesn’t always take the dominant position but perhaps it was the sense of authority, the power whenever he does it. he has the habit of giving orders and commands whenever you two are spending a passionate moment and seeing you willing to follow him ignites something in him—however, if you disobey him, then that’s a different matter altogether (it’s not like he hates it however. deep in him, he likes it as it gives him the pass to do more things but with your consent, of course). you’re so vulnerable, so obedient to him and it fuels his excitement further when you follow what he says. it makes him wonder, a question pondering his head, how could he have someone like you, someone as lovely and sweet as you, so good to him?
restriction / holding your hands together
ZHONGLI — no, it is not the act of locking your fingers with his as he pushes himself into you just like diluc, this one is completely different. he has big hands, we all know that zhongli’s hands are big and one of it just enough to bind both of your wrists together—he is well-aware of that fact and abuses it. he likes seeing you struggle, tugging your hand against his but his hold wouldn’t budge, at all. although zhongli hasn't explicitly told or mentioned it, he absolutely loves the way you look so helpless and weak whenever he holds your hands together, whenever he restricts your movement. oftentimes, he would have a silk ribbon—it has to be a silk ribbon—tying you up just so he could rest his hands on your hips and hold you.
hands always touching and roaming around your body
ALHAITHAM — he just loves to feel you, in general. he loves the softness of your skin underneath the tip of his fingers as he glides his hand all across your body, the warmth of you seething into his touch and being buried in his bones, and he is obsessed on the way he could feel the sweet trembles of your body underneath his hand, could sense the small shiver when he finally touches you, and he adores it and he doesn’t hesitate in conveying his affections to you, often accompanying his caresses with his words of praises and compliments. perhaps it overwhelms you, not knowing where to focus yourself on, and he loves seeing you in such a state, pushing you more and more further to the edge with his hands and mouth alone.
biting and leaving marks
WANDERER — the line between pain and pleasure soon blurs into one as he bites into you while, and one could say it serves as a distraction but it isn’t, it’s not even close to being a distraction, it’s simply something that adds to the stimulation that you are feeling, overwhelming and effectively bringing you into some sort of space. he takes joy in the sounds that you make once he buries his neck on the curve of your neck, hard but not hard enough to draw blood; he takes pride in seeing the bruises and marks that he left on you, looking at you like you were a work of art carved and sculpted into something more than perfection with his own hands.
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© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.
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anantaru · 3 months
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EYES OF GOLD AND SAPPHIRE — ZHONGLI
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zhongli is still learning on how to control himself around you. wc. 750
・✶ 。 warnings — feral zhongli, size kink/size difference, fem! reader
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"you're s-so breathtaking,"
without delay, you find yourself spellbound under zhongli's famished glare— and you notice how his warm palm was slowly scattering along the slopes of your frame as the other tightens around your hip to keep you pressed against the mattress.
your fingers tighten in his hair, and your tongue swipes along his bottom lip as his hot breath pans against your doused skin, his hips thrusting up to meet your own when he suddenly stutters in his thrusts.
zhongli feels lightheaded at the sopping clench of your hole snatching his attention away, his cock aching to bury itself to the hilts of you when he ultimately decides against it.
instead, he clutches one hand on your hips to reduce his tempo, "z-zhongli," you sob out, dreamily as you catch your boyfriend's gaze shift to that of a much softer expression, your hands squeezing roughly at the skin of his biceps as to show your desperation for him, "faster.. please," you continue, "—like earlier," your words are so breathless and needy that it causes his cock to thicken and throb in you as your arousal soils the fabric under your moving bodies.
"you could get hurt," he whispers angel alike, tugging at the origin of your pleasure as your body litters with goosebumps, sweat clinging to your skin. in this moment in time, you let him hold you for what felt like a couple minutes before you begin to ruffle his hair a bit, his cock continuously throbbing in your cunt although not moving.
zhongli wasn't certain on how long he was able to keep himself like that, but he find himself flushed at the feeling of indulging in your warm, soft cunt milking his cock— it's in a momentary trice but it was passionate enough to manifest a warm whirlwind down his spine.
"you won't, i trust you," it's like an echo the way zhongli groans deep into his chest when he heard you say it, "please," you whine, "i just need you, please," you affirm him, and there's a throb between your thighs that coaxed a whine from the tip of your tongue, amplified by a couple wet kisses on your cheek as his hips leisurely begin to rock back and forth again.
you squeeze around him tighter, "you will tell me?" zhongli feels his lungs convulse with each exhale from the sudden rush of excitement when you wrap your legs around his narrow waist, the flicker of lust in your eyes undeniable and practically sweeping him off his feet.
it's heavy to have him only move just a little and zhongli knows, but the impact of each thrust left you dizzy despite the intensity being on the softer side— although your exhaustion was clearly visible and partially his fault, the experience zhongli had would always leave you speechless, until your tummy would feel so heavy and crowded that you wouldn't be able to lift yourself up off the bed even if you tried to. 
"I will tell you, baby, i will, i will—," zhongli nods in response before placing your legs over his shoulders as he pulls his weight against your chest, and you're breathing so heavily from him claiming and caging you, your breasts squeezed as he moves his cock out of you only to drag his entire length back with one swift snap of his hips, knocking the air off your lungs.
the impact of skin on skin was turning your vision entirely white as if you were purposely staring right into a lamp for far too long.
you moan as you fail to control the tremble under his looming body, his hips again and again, pressing in deep and fast, in fact, so deep that you were now repeatedly full of him, your walls smoldering over his thick shaft as he crowds your pussy that it made his pace stutter before he reaches his previous tempo.
a grunt leaves his throat at the lewd sight of your erected nipples and tits jumping in tandem with his hips rocking you up and down the mattress, that's when you finally get a good look on him, his eyes focused but needy— a tint of red lace on his cheeks, something dark with an unique sense of lust pooling in his golden gaze as his cock twitches when he hits that saccharine-platted spot in you, forming you into a puddle of satisfied mewls and desperate cries.
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©2023 anantaru  do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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dragon-ascent · 3 months
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Imagine Zhongli accidentally showing you his dragon form for the first time, as you'd never witnessed his non-human side before. He's worried you might be scared of him, but boy, does he turn out to be wrong.
It happens unexpectedly, when you come home much earlier than anticipated - only to find a big brown dragon idling about in the garden. When his golden eyes swivel to you, he takes in a deep breath. So it's time for this, hm.
"Darling...it's me. Zhongli. Your husband." Zhongli slowly approaches you, cautious as to not startle you. He purrs softly as he comes to a stop before you. His gaze on you is unwavering, and he's ready to back off at the slightest hint of discomfort on your end. You're the type to get startled by bugs and mice and lizards, and well...in this form he's basically a giant lizard, right?
So of course he's surprised when you barrel into his fur, squealing in delight while attempting to cuddle your big dragon husband. "Eeeeee you're sooooo coooool!" you exclaim, "you're like a big puppy! I've always wanted a puppy!"
Puppy?
Turns out you're not that far off, for Zhongli finds his tail wagging immensely at your happiness. You're planting kisses all over his scaly body, and his purrs grow louder.
He chuckles as you bury yourself in his mane, his laughter growing when he finds that you've properly entangled yourself there in all the hair. "Oh oh darling, let me help."
But you're least bothered by it - you're grinning from ear to ear as your husband gently disentangles you with his teeth. "Eeeeee!" You squeal again, your attention now on those large, sharp teeth. Before he can react, you've poked your head into his maw. "Wow! You should eat me!"
Startled, Zhongli pulls away, a part of him concerned he might actually close his mouth on you.
You let out a big "Aww man!", but then carry on with petting and cuddling the heck out of him, all the while cooing about how cool and cute he is.
Zhongli thinks his beloved is a strange one, but he loves you nonetheless.
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glimmeringtwilight · 2 years
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The Lone and Level Sands Stretch Far Away - Prologue
Here we gooo, the fic I've been sitting atop for weeks. I abhor tumblr editing and it's already deleted this post three times so I'm half-assing it now. Crossposted on AO3 HERE. Masterlist: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five |
CW: Graphic depictions of violence, murder, domestic violence, misogyny, reader is a woman in the prologue only (future chapters will be gender neutral), attempted SA. As with all of my fics, read at your own discretion. This IS a yandere/dark content blog.
Snow crunches under your bare feet, long turned numb and red from the cold. You know if you keep going like this, you’re going to lose them. You should go back inside, warm your limbs, fight the frost creeping into your body. 
Instead, you keep walking. Eyes hardened, searching and following the droplets of blood trailing ahead, further into the biting cold woods. An unforgiving wind gusts past you, through you– when did you get so hollow?– but you hardly feel the chill. Rage burns beneath your skin like a wildfire, keeping you plenty warm. 
“Leave me be, you psycho bitch!” A terrified voice yelps out between the trees. You break into a jog, and the trees towering over you lean in, ever voyeuristic. The woods are still and quiet, save for your quickening, eager breath, and the moans of pain you’re drawing in on. 
If your past self could see you now… They would be heartbroken, to see what they become. Hardened and bitter and jaded, unwilling to love and be loved. Your inner child died tonight, and you held their cooling body in your arms as something finally broke in you. 
It started last year. Actually, more truthfully… this was a poison that had been brewing in your soul your entire life. But there’s always a straw that breaks the camel’s back. Nothing is infinite, not even suffering. 
You’d always been a people pleaser, bending over backwards to suit the whims of anyone and everyone. You wanted people to like you, you wanted to be needed. If you weren’t doing everything to help others, no matter at what expense it came to you, you weren’t earning your place in this life. 
This led to… many toxic friendships, people who would use you, hurt you, manipulate you for their own gain. And each one stole a part of you, left a small hole in your heart that yawned wider with each betrayal, with each heartbreak, with every bridge burned. 
You moved on, cradled your bleeding heart, carefully crafted a mask so you could hide your suffering. Friends came and went faster than the seasons. If they didn’t want to hurt you, they’d drift quietly away, move on, live their lives elsewhere. You, meanwhile, stayed in the village that raised you, unable to move on. 
It was a small town, painfully rigid and entrenched in tradition. Women were expected to marry young, bear children, and spend the rest of their lives serving their husband, raising and having kids at his whim. Quietly, you disagreed. Quietly, a voice inside you seethed, bitter and angry. I don’t want this. I want my own life. You drowned it with the rest of you. 
At 20, you were married to the fisherman’s son. It was an arranged marriage, between yours and his parents. He had mentioned to his father offhandedly that he found you cute, and like that, your fate was sealed. You were bought and sold, passed off to the first man who asked. 
It… wasn’t so bad. He was cute, polite, even if he sometimes seemed to regard you more as an object than a sentient human being. You didn’t blame him. It was just how he was raised, how you both were. Even still, your heart bled, and bitterness coiled in your soul like barbed wire. And you, for your part, shielded the parts of you that were still soft, cradled them close, clung to the last vestiges of gentleness and love. It was all you had left, the last thing between you and the hate sown in your heart. 
Lee, your husband, was doting. At first. Entrenched still in the tradition you were raised with, he was more patient and understanding than you expected him to be. He tried to respect your wishes, your discomfort and your boundaries. 
The first few months after your marriage, you agree to just enjoy eachother's company. Still strangers, still unfamiliar, but he didn’t push you to be intimate with him, and for that you were grateful. You could see yourself falling in love with him, raising a family (even if that wasn’t what you wanted), if he loved you. If that’s what would make him happy. 
You spent the summer and fall happily growing steadily closer. He was your best friend. You could fall in love with him. You could. Maybe you already had. 
Winter came and never left. The crops never came back. A famine sank its teeth into your village, slowly but surely, and the reserves each family had saved up for the winter bled dry quickly after the ground was supposed to have long since thawed.  
Your husband started working more, trying to catch more fish to feed the mouths left hungry from the crops dying. To his credit, it worked. But only for a few months. Soon, the fish dried up too. 
Your heart ached, seeing the state of your village. The population thinned, and you watched your neighbors, faces you’d grown up alongside, tearfully pack their bags and leave. 
You stayed. Your husband was in the same boat, stubborn as you were. The two of you thought if you just toughed it out, stuck around to help your neighbors and friends who stayed, things would get better. With less mouths to feed, at least, things began looking up. You entertained the glimmer of hope growing in your chest. Things would get better. 
Then, your husband began drinking. It was innocuous, as first, as all things are. A few drinks on the weekend, then a drink every day after work. Just one, he said. Just one, then none ‘til tomorrow. That “one” turned into two, then three, then four. 
The liquor brought out a different side of your husband. He became touchier, more insistent, less respectful of your boundaries and your protests. You still hadn’t been intimate with him, and while you no longer considered him a stranger, you didn’t want to sleep with him while he was like… this, and definitely not until you could reliably feed yourselves. He didn’t understand, and you had fewer and fewer opportunities to try and explain this to him while he was sober. 
It came to a head after a week of heavy drinking, particularly grim yields from the rivers, and longer days spent out at work for the both of you. He came home drunk, which wasn’t unusual, especially as of late. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. 
“I want to have a baby,” He slurred, “A son.”
You tensed. “...I don’t think now’s a good time, Lee. How would we feed him?”
Lee’s arm’s tightened around you. “We’ll figure it out.” A sigh against the shell of your ear, then hands roamed down to tug at your pants. 
Icy panic shot through you. “I don’t want to.”
Lee hummed, but didn’t stop. You don’t know if he was too drunk to hear you, or was ignoring you on purpose. When a hand slipped beneath your waistband, you panicked, shoving him away, hard. 
For the first time since marrying him, the expression on his face scared you. Shock gave way to fury, his face twisting into an ugly scowl. You blinked, fell to the floor. Your cheek stung. Lee’s hand was still raised, clenched into a fist, when you looked back up. He… he hit you. He’s never done that before. 
You didn’t even hear the insults he spat down at you, trembling with barely contained rage. Your ears were ringing, your elbows, which you were using to prop yourself up, threatened to buckle. Eyes fluttered closed. You half expected him to continue, to force himself on you anyway, but he stormed off in a rage. 
“Why did you bother to come crying to me? You are an ungrateful wife.”
The insult stings, you wring your hands painfully to distract yourself. The hateful beast inside of you seethes and spits. You drown it out, quietly, and carefully slip into the mask of neutrality you’d spent a lifetime crafting. 
Your mother scowls down at you with thinly veiled disgust– or was that disappointment? It makes no difference. “If he wants a child, you provide him one. You’re lucky he didn’t do worse; he’s within his right to. Your job is to bear children, to serve your husband. You should be honored he chose you, excited for the chance to fulfill your purpose.”
“But-”
“No buts! I can’t believe I raised such an ungrateful brat! Be lucky he ever agreed to marry you in the first place.” Your mother turns her back on you, with that, and you watch her retreating form in silence. 
You should have seen it coming, really. This was the woman that raised you, she was the one who drilled these archaic traditions into your skull, forced you into this mold that hardly fit. But it still stung. She was still your mother. Quietly, you had hoped she’d be sympathetic, that she’d be enraged to see the bruise swelling your cheek, to know your husband had laid a hand on you. Weren’t mothers supposed to protect their children? 
But that’s the thing, isn’t it? You’re not a kid anymore. Even still, as your mother turns her back on you, you feel the creeping desire to cry. Something inside you cracks. The barbed wire in your soul coils tighter. 
The days get worse. Some nights, if you’re lucky, he’s too drunk and too tired to touch you, simply stumbling to bed and passing out. Other nights, you’re not. He touches you, tries to get you to sleep with him, you refuse, and he hits you, then goes to bed angry. Sometimes, it’s with an open hand, sometimes a closed fist, then he begins to throw things. Plates, bottles, food. 
Bitterness swells deep in your bones, quiet and seething but livid still. With every argument, every bruise, every shattered plate and shard of glass that digs into your palms when you catch yourself on the ground, part of you dies. That hole in your heart yawns wider, and the parts of you that were soft and loving and kind… slip through your fingers like sand. 
Tonight, he comes to you again. Drunk, angry, and something about the look in his eyes as he looks at you makes the sneer that threatens your lips all the harder to repress. 
Lee extends his arms in offer of a hug. You know better than to trust that. Never just a hug, not with him, not anymore. Still, you muster all the softness you have left, scrape up the last vestiges of love you have in your bitter, bleeding heart, the love you could’ve held for him in the tatters of your soul, and you shake your head. 
“I’m sorry.” It’s sincere. You are sorry, but his insistence and your mothers insults have not swayed you. His gaze doesn’t soften, it stays hard and unrelenting. You both know he expected this. It is as it has been for weeks, now. 
Lee says nothing, dropping his arms. Says nothing when he takes long strides towards you, matching your wary and hesitant steps back. Says nothing when he slams your head into the wall, hand winding into the hair at the base of your scalp as the other yanks your pants down. 
The love in your ragged soul dies, then. That voice is back, that vicious, angry beast, but you have nothing to drown it out, not anymore. It rages, screams, cries. Above that, your ears pick up on the sound of your husband wrestling with his belt, too drunk and uncoordinated. 
No… no, no, no no NO!
You scratch his face, Blood fills your mouth when he punches your jaw, slams your head back against the wall. Stars fill your vision. 
“Ungrateful bitch, I have been too kind to you, too patient, too forgiving-” His voice sounds underwater, fuzzy, far away, but you slam back into your harsh reality, like a bucket of ice water thrown over your head, when his hand yanks your underwear down. 
I’m going to kill you, you think, and perhaps you say as much, you don’t know. But something inside you shatters, and the anger and injustice you’ve harbored over the years breaks free, stepping over the broken remains of what you once were. 
Someone’s screaming. Someone’s screaming, and your thumb finds itself in one of his eyes, digging until something yields. He screams, and distantly, you realize, so are you. His is of pain, yours is of fury and anguish. 
Your husband staggers back, howling in pain. You stop screaming. You feel hollow, hot and cold, all at once. Cold and empty, hot and livid. 
“You- YOU FUCKING BITCH-” he doesn't finish his sentence, you don’t let him, grabbing the closest thing to you and smashing it against his nose. The oil lamp; it wasn’t on, lucky for him, but kerosene soaks his face. Blood drips from his face and glass embeds deep into his cheeks. You think you broke his nose. Your mouth pulls into a bitter smile. 
Something new. A new emotion floods his eyes. For the first time, your husband looks up at you with fear, not the other way around. Lee looks at you, truly looks at you, sees the emptiness in your eyes, the smile that paints your face, the first smile he’s seen in a long time… and it’s as you stand over him, your own blood staining your lips, his blood flecked across your hands and neck. 
He looks up at you, and your once patient, doting, understanding husband, gets up and flees. You give him 30 seconds before you give chase, slipping back on your clothes, then stepping outside. 
As you step out the door, you spot the axe he used to chop firewood still beside the house, embedded into the stump of a felled tree. Did he leave it on purpose? Does he, for all the pain he brought you, not want to kill you? …Does it even matter? You suppose it doesn’t, not anymore. 
You grab the handle of the axe, yanking it from the wood, keeping it in a white-knuckled grip as you follow the trail of blood and footprints into the woods. For once, you’re thankful for having such an isolated cabin from the town. It was a 15 minute hike to the nearest neighbor, and that thought once plagued you a few nights ago, as you lay awake in fear at the realization that no-one would hear your screams out here. You’re grateful for it now, because neither could they hear his . 
The snow crunches beneath your feet. 
You find him in a clearing, shivering and clutching his nose. He turns when he hears you, glaring at you with his one good eye. 
“So, what. You’re going to kill me, you fucking psycho bitch?” He sneers. There is still fear in his eyes, despite the venom spilling from his lips. Part of you can’t believe this is the man you married. The rest of you doesn’t bat an eye. It doesn’t matter. It wasn’t your choice to make. “Kill me then! It won’t change anything! You’ll still be a useless, ungrateful whore, an outcast, the spineless bitch who can’t even seem to manage a friendship, much less a marriage!” 
Distantly, his words sting. Your hands tighten around the handle of the axe, splinters digging into your palms. 
“Even when I’m dead, you’ll still be worthless. No one will ever want you again.” Lee straightens up, making himself look tall, trying to tower over you and not stare at the weapon in your hands. 
“I almost loved you, you know.” It falls from your lips before you realize it. Lee’s anger cools, slightly. “Almost. I let you have the part of me that was loving, and soft, and kind, and whole.”
“What the fuck are you-”
You cut him off, stepping forward. He takes two staggering steps back, raising an arm defensively to block a blow. “I trusted you with that. Do you know what it feels like, putting your trust in others, over and over again, being betrayed over and over again, being expected to smile through it all, to remain soft, and loving, and kind, and patient-” You’re rambling now, are you even making any sense? You don’t know. You can hardly hear yourself over the blood rushing in your ears, “-do you know how much it hurts to shield yourself from that, while still coming second to anyone else in your life, to feel the kindling of hope with each new friendly face, to feel the emptiness that follows when that hope is snuffed out?”
“What-”
You take another two steps forward. He takes three steps back. “And then, after years of pain, and injustice, and heartbreak, and suffering , you do it again. ‘ One last time ,’ you say. ‘ This is the one!’ And you let your guard down. You let your guard down, stop bracing for every hit, allow yourself to love and be loved, again. You let yourself be vulnerable with your husband, warm up to him, imagine falling in love with him…”
Dawning realization falls over Lee’s face. He takes a step back. You take two forward. 
Your voice shakes, and half of you worries you’ll cry, but your eyes are dry, and does it matter, really, if you do? “And then your loving, patient husband, kills that part of you that’s soft. Comes home drunk. Your body or your blood , it’s your choice until it’s not.” 
Lee trips and falls on his ass. Like a rabid wolf, you quickly close the distance to loom over him. He makes no move to get up, so you continue. 
“Our vows. Do you remember them? ‘Til death do us part. The woman you married died tonight, bled to death on the bedroom floor. I think it’s time you join her.”
Your husband’s lip trembles, pupils blown wide with fear as he looks up at you, standing over him like the angel of death, shrouded in shadow with only the faint ring of moonlight lighting your figure. “Why?” He whispers.
You pause, not expecting the question. He kicks your leg out from under you and reaches for the axe. Your hands wrap around it steadfast, and you clutch it to your chest like it’s a precious treasure. Lee cuts his losses and runs away again, further into the woods, closer to the village. Your heart skips a beat, the hollowness filling in with fire, indignant rage. Coward. Coward.
You give chase, shouting after him, “Run, then, if it soothes you! But know that you can never run from this, from me! You’re a coward now, then so too, in the next life!”
You’re gaining on him, your light body (in large part from the hunger) and the adrenaline running through your veins aiding you. For the first time, in a long, long while, you feel alive, and a manic laugh bubbles in your throat. In the distance, you see the lights of the village, but you don’t give up. You’ll kill him in front of your mother, your neighbors, his family, if that’s how he wants it. 
“Even if you get away, I will follow you to the ends of the earth, I will haunt the halls you call home!” The cold winter air stings your lungs as you pant, excited and exhausted and livid and empty. “You will never again know your own shadow, your own reflection- I am the greatest suffering you will ever know!”
He stumbles, you swing. Metal tears into flesh, splinters bone. He howls, and you’re sure the village heard it. You bear down onto him, digging the axe blade into his shoulder with your full weight as he buckles to the ground, and you lean down to whisper in his ear, “Do you feel that? Right here, right now? You will carry this with you forever, into the next life, and every one that follows. This night will carry me with you until I find you again.”
Lee bucks up against you, and bitterness floods your mouth as you feel yourself losing balance atop him against his struggles. The cold of the night grips you fiercely, stronger than it did him, sapping the strength from you as the adrenaline wanes and can no longer carry you past it. He’s still in his work clothes, you in your nightclothes. Absently, a part of you realizes he’s going to overpower you. You’re going to lose, even after all this. You know this. The beast inside you wails, tears at the walls. You can’t lose, you’re so close, you can’t!
But you’re stubborn, and you mean what you promised him, you mean it in earnest. He’s bleeding profusely, and you struggle to wrench the axe free from bone, but he stills and howls in pain again when you do, buying you more time. Mimicking his actions earlier tonight, you lean down and breathe against the shell of his ear. “You will never dream again.”
You raise the axe in the air, just as Lee looks over his shoulder at you, throwing his weight up against you and knocking you off balance. 
Cold snow meets your back, soaking through your nightshirt. You don’t register the cold. His gaze is hard and angry again, but there’s a fire of triumph there now too. In this moment, you hate him with all your soul. His hands wrench the axe from your grasp. It goes easy, slickened by blood, your joints stiff and hands struggling to clench down hard enough around the handle. 
It’s not fair. You were so close, it’s not fair. But even as the axe slips between your fingertips, you’re oddly calm. There’s still a storm raging inside you, telling you you can’t, you can’t, you can’t lose. But something else smothers it, something new. Whatever it is, it isn’t you, for once. It isn’t over. Something tells you, you don’t know what, but its gentle reassurance is enough. 
Your eyes flit to the sky, briefly, before your husband’s shadow swallows your form and hides the stars from view. You don’t know what you expected to see, but the insistent nagging at the edge of your subconsciousness tells you what you need to know. That it was not just the trees watching with voyeuristic interest.
Lee glowers down at you, then swings the axe down into your side, through your ribs. You feel the bones give way, and blood fills your lungs quickly. He looks so pleased, so triumphant, so victorious . You hate it. You liked the fear in his eyes better.
He leans back enough so his shadow is no longer swallowing you, and you glance to the stars once more. They wink at you, knowingly, like you’ve been let in on an inside joke. Are you the joke, or is he? Does it matter?  
Your husband, your patient, doting, loving husband, smiles wryly down at you as you cough and choke on your own blood. “I almost feel bad for you. In the end, you really are useless. Pathetic…” He lifts the axe above his head, smile dropping from his face, “Any last words?”
You… laugh. It burns against your throat like boiling water, irritates the wound in your side, hurts like hell. But you laugh. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t know. Not yet. You think you know the punchline, now. The fear slowly flickers back into his eyes. “...What, what’s so fucking funny?” He spits. 
“Oh, lover mine… I told you,” You rasp out between your coughs and your laughter, “I will haunt you forever. I will never let you go.”  
Lee’s face twists into a terrified grimace, and he brings the hatchet down onto your neck.
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wolfiesmoon · 3 months
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When you wear their clothes
genshin men x gn!reader
characters featured: xiao, neuvillette, wriothesley, zhongli and itto
i've been dreaming about genshin a lot lately idk this game has possesed me or smth so i feel like i'm required to write this? Also DAMN im rusty with genshin characters so i apologise profusely for any ooc-ness
(also wrio's is kinda suggestive!!)
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XIAO is confused. Why on earth are you wearing his clothes? He isn't opposed to it specifically, but doesn't understand the appeal or the reason why you do it. "My clothes don't fit you properly. What's the point?" he asks, completely straight faced. You smile. "It reminds me of you when you're not with me!" He just scoffs and says he doesn't get your strange habits before moving on with his day. Somehow though, the image of you in his clothes won't leave his mind for the rest of the day. "Dammit..." he mumbles under his breath, barely audible when nobody's around. Don't bring up his pink cheeks in the evening when he comes back to see you, he will not elaborate.
Similarly, NEUVILLETTE is also confused. This must be another human thing that he isn't familiar with. What does wearing their lover's clothes mean to humans? "Oh, I just missed you... your clothes remind me of you, you know?" You explained when he questioned you on the matter. "Oh, I suppose that makes sense. Do you want more items related to myself for when I am absent?" He asks. While you do want to know what items he would bring you, you turn him down. "I like your shirts the most, because they smell like you and feel like your hugs." He doesn't know why exactly, but he has the urge to kiss you all of a sudden.
WRIOTHESLEY feels distracted when he sees you in his clothes from time to time. He gets busy a lot, so the moments he gets to spend with you feel extra special. But, what is he to do when you look so positively yummy in his shirt? "Hey, mind taking my shirt off? It's... sort of distracting." he admits, taking a sip of his tea. "But, wouldn't it be even more distracting if I took it off now?" you asked, feigning an innocent look. He almost spit out his tea. "I did not mean it like that...! Surely you're just teasing me." You just smiled mischeviously in response, taking a sip out of your own cup. "That's what I thought. I know that look."
ZHONGLI thinks you look odd in his clothes. Odd, but not bad by any means. You actually look quite endearing. "I'll make sure to commit this to memory." he says calmly, sitting down next to you on the bed. "You say that every time you're with me." you poke his shoulder gently, smiling up at him. "That's because everything about you is worth remembering, I suppose." Still, he thinks this specific memory is one he will treasure for a long, long time. "Oh my..." you felt heat rushing to your cheeks at his words, hugging his arm. Actually, he changed his mind, you're positively adorable in his clothes.
You're basically asking to get attacked with a flurry of kisses if you wear ITTO'S clothes in front of him. That's like, a show of affection! That you're totally his and no one else's! And that also means it's a cause for celebration! "Agh, Itto- Stop!" you try and fail to push his face away. "Hehehe..." he gives you a bright smile and places a big ol' kiss on your lips. "You should wear my clothes more often!!!" he felt proud of himself, puffing out his chest. "Ummm, whatever you say..." you're kind of worried that if you do that, your face will never escape his lips.
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averaillisa · 2 months
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jinkicake · 10 months
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Spring Is In The Air~
Something happens to them when the seasons change. 
Itto, Tighnari, Yae Miko, Zhongli x Reader
A/N: I wrote this like two months ago and never posted it... I’ve always wanted to try writing something like this so here is my pathetic attempt! It’s corny BUT, smutty!!! :-)
WC - 2,224
NSFWWWW // SMUTTYYY
~~~
ITTO
Itto is not subtle. Try as he might, the poor oni cannot learn the art of subtlety. His reactions always give him away to you within seconds. 
His struggle can currently be seen in the way he braces himself against the counter but still attempts to stand up straight to play it off. 
“Hey,” He sounds breathless, almost as if it is hard for him to breathe. You know he’s going to break any moment now, you can see it as his chest begins to rapidly rise and fall. His breathing quickens and all you can do is stare at his expanding chest. “I need you.”
Itto breaks every spring and putting him back together is your favorite part.
“Fuck me, fuck me!” Itto groans loudly and the sounds, one after another, fly off of the walls. He’s absolutely losing himself as you bounce on his lap, up and down while your thighs pound against his own. The pace is fast, quick, and your knees are not able to handle it alone. It’s entirely him, Itto uses the strength in his muscular arms to toss you around on his lap. His tongue hangs out of his mouth, eyes squeezed together shut all while both of your hands are wrapped around his throat. “Yes, yes, yes,” It’s almost pathetic, the way he is singing your praise and grinds down onto the mattress. He can’t get enough of the feeling, of it all. 
Itto is loud in everything that he does and he never shies away from expressing his desires. 
“I’m gonna cum so fucking hard,” He sounds entirely desperate, almost as if he is about to break into tears. You squeeze your thighs together and watch his every reaction as you clamp around him. His reaction is almost imminent. Itto’s hands on your waist squeeze you tightly as his bare nails dig into your skin as he cums with a drawn-out groan. The oni chases his high without stopping, still wildly thrusting up into you just as before. His pace then grows slower, impossibly slow as he slams into you a handful of times. There’s something final about this but, you know better. 
This is just the beginning. It takes hours to satisfy Itto, especially during the spring. 
You don’t even have the chance to catch your breath before you feel him twitching inside of you again, now hard as ever. His fast recovery is almost as quick as his reflexes. Itto pulls you off of him within a flash before mounting you from behind. 
“I’m sorry, just one more, one more, okay?” You can hear how his voice shakes in your ear but, you don’t have the chance to reply as he effortlessly slides back into you. In this position, you can hear everything, every puff of air that escapes his lips and every whimper that falls. Itto cries into your ear, tongue lapping at the surface as he moves his hips at a quick pace. “You’re fucking me so good,” 
You can almost feel him in your fucking stomach as you clamp around him but, his brutal strides feel so good. Each thrust against your bottom sends you flying and you end up face-first in the duvet. Itto keeps you still with a firm hand on your hip but, you can imagine how broken his expression must be as he groans above you. 
“One more time, one more time,”
((It’s never just one time with him.))
TIGHNARI
“(Y/N), please,” 
Hearing the forest ranger beg is something you are not used to. Tighnari never begs or yearns for your touch and attention. If he wants something, he takes it with little hesitation. 
Except when the seasons begin to change. 
When the air grows colder, something primal shifts in Tighnari. You can see it in the way his eyes soften into pools of need and how he becomes much more sensitive to the slightest touch. If you even think about touching his fingers, over his gloves, he will drop whatever is in his hands. 
Tighnari becomes reactive all over. 
“It’s happening again.” He murmurs into your ear as he presses up against your side. His tail wraps around your thigh, squeezing over and over again as he ruts into your leg. “I need you.” When Tighnari gets like this, you know it’s best to just let him take. 
“You poor thing,” Your voice is full of sympathy, perhaps a bit condescending, and it makes the forest ranger whimper. His ears flatten against the top of his head as his eyes squeeze shut in concentration. Your quiet sighs and hums only make him more delirious, Tighnari burrows his face into the crook of your neck and simply inhales. His breathing gets heavier as his messy thrusts become erratic. If he had not been holding onto you so tightly, you’re sure you would have fallen to the floor by now. 
He cums with a gasp, one that sucks the air from his lungs, and he tries to hide it by biting on your shoulder. Tighnari grits his teeth against your skin as little whimpers leave his lips, his tail rapidly thumping against your leg. His weight becomes too much and you both sink to the floor under his passion. 
That first orgasm meant nothing to him, it’s merely a warm-up. 
Tighnari can’t even bring himself to guide you to your shared bedroom, he takes you on the floor. 
He can’t help the way that he spreads your thighs and licks, running his tongue along your slit. The poor man devours it all, spitting and lapping up at whatever he can reach. His harsh sucks make you shiver and squirm but, you can’t move under the tight grip he has on your waist. 
“Ah,” Whatever Tighnari planned to say is muffled by your cunt as he shoves his tongue inside of you. He thrusts the muscle as far as he can go, ears flattened in concentration while his nose grinds against your clit. It’s as if he has become utterly consumed by you, everything about you because all he can focus on is getting his tongue in you as deep as possible. 
But then, he suddenly pulls himself off of you as if it hurts to touch you.
In the blink of an eye, Tighnari is above you, staring down while his legs get situated between your own. 
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry but, I need it,” His breathing has become erratic, eyes almost feral as he begins to heavily salivate. With his primal urges brought to the surface, you know you won’t be able to leave this position and similar ones for a few days. “I have to- I have to fuck you.” 
YAE MIKO
With the amount of time you’ve spent beside Yae Miko, you know her exceptionally well. 
You know when something begins to shift within her, almost as if it is in the air. It’s seen in the way the other shrine maidens keep their distance and in the way Miko’s fingers dance along your skin as she grabs you at any possible opportunity. She makes sure that she’s touching your bare skin, her pink nails nearly breaking it as she stands behind you. 
“I require your assistance, pet,” Her breathy voice always confirms it for you and is the tell-tale sign of when her primal urges begin to show. She drags you by your wrist to a lone room, one decorated exceptionally well with everything you could need to last for weeks. Your lover’s touch grows lighter.
“You know what I need from you.” Yae Miko stares down at you as if she is truly looking down on you, her eyes hold little interest but you know better. You can see how her finger is nearly starting to tremble and how her lips have begun to part. “Come here,” She doesn’t even have to lift a finger for you to stand in front of her, within her grasp. 
Her lips are on you without another second to spare. Immediately, it’s all tongue. She parts your lips with tight squeezes of your sides before her hands move to paw at your breasts. While letting her tongue run over your own, shoving the muscle as far down your throat as she can, she towers above you. Her moans are low and entirely full of pleasure. 
You have a belief that her urges bring out something in you, something similar because you can’t help but want to be used by her every season. 
With heavy hands, Miko pushes you to the ground forcefully on your back. She slowly lowers to her knees, watching you carefully as you pathetically stare up at her. Your lips are still part and slightly swollen because of her previous ministrations. It makes her heart stop as desire stirs in the pit of her stomach. 
She spreads your legs with her slim hands and hooks one of your thighs over her own. Your underwear is discarded in seconds by her nails and her shorts are magically on another side of the room. 
Yae Miko’s lips turn slightly upwards, almost in a mischievous grin as she presses your leg to your chest and sits on top of you. She’s hot, the touch of her skin nearly makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. An immediate roll of her hips makes you moan loudly, the feeling of her sopping cunt against your own renders you speechless. 
“How funny,” She coos but, struggles to hide back her own shakey exhales. Desire takes the forefront of her brain and all she can think about is satisfying the demanding urge in the pit of her stomach. Over and over, she presses her clit against your own and rubs at the sensitive area while roughly thrusting her hips. This is only the beginning, you’re too aware of it. 
With the way Miko is squeezing your breasts and pinching your nipple, you can’t help but anticipate the rest of her plans with you. 
ZHONGLI
After spending lifetimes with Zhongli, you still end up winded when the seasons change. 
Your husband is a dutiful man and always gives you a fair warning, a notice before something ever happens with his body. However, sometimes a warning is not nearly enough. 
It’s been days since his insides have turned into a molten heat and Zhongli has not been shy about tackling this issue with you. You’re always so good to him, let him do whatever he desires just to satisfy the annoying urges. 
Day after day, he can’t help but grow stronger about his affections. He’s a selfish man and he desperately needs more. 
“Oh, you’re-” The words can’t even leave his lips as his head tilts back, a loud moan leaves his lips. Zhongli grits his teeth painfully, grinding them down as his hand tightens in your hair. He’s not being careful and neither are you. You continue to choke on him, around him, as your spit coats his entire cock. The cool sensation makes your husband’s thighs twitch as he grunts at the feeling spreading between his legs. 
You feel incredibly lucky that his primal form has yet to take over, perhaps it won’t even show this time around. It would be nearly impossible to satisfy him with another appendage hanging between his thighs. But, the thought still makes you moan wantingly. 
“My love-” Zhongli finds it hard to speak, his balls painfully tight and it only gets worse when he sees your hand hidden between your thighs. He focuses on your fingers moving against your clit and his eyes nearly turn into slits as he focuses on the image. The realization that this brings you as much pleasure as it does him causes a guttural groan to leave his chest. “Come here,”
His voice changes, it becomes much deeper, much more commanding. Zhongli doesn’t wait for you, he roughly pulls you up to your feet before pulling you into his lap. The way he manhandles you, forcing you to sit back on his face makes your entire being light up with need. 
“Morax!” You screech as your hands press into his abdomen, his tongue doesn’t waste a second now that you’re on him. The archon presses his tongue into your cunt, thrusting in and out before running the muscle over your clit. The stimulation makes it hard to focus but, you still reach for his heavy cock. 
You grip him tightly and lick at his slit, tongue digging into the area as you hum at the taste. Zhongli’s grip on your thighs becomes stronger and he fights back with his sharp nails digging into your skin. Had you been any more focused, you would have thought he had grown claws.
Your cunt pulses around his tongue and all Zhongli can do is continue to shove the muscle inside of you. He doesn’t shy away from rubbing against your walls, no, he has his own agenda. It’s almost sick how he coaxes you to gush around him, all so he can swallow it greedily to satisfy some gut-clenching demand. 
But, he can’t help it, he also can’t help how his skin begins to turn and scales spread across his arms. He can’t help but connect with his primal side when you satisfy the very deepest desires that he has. 
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kaeyas-beloved · 5 months
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a moment too late
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Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli
— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...
CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name
val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist
I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....
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Thinking about them not making it in time...
Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.
He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."
When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.
When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.
It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.
There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.
It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."
He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.
"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.
"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.
The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."
The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.
The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.
His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.
What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?
You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.
He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.
Silence.
"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.
The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.
For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.
For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.
That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.
———
Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.
It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?
Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.
When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.
By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.
With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.
In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.
“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.
“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.
The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.
The gods weren't in his favour.
Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.
The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.
He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.
It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.
"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.
The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.
Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.
And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.
You were alive, but at what cost?
———
Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.
Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.
The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.
Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”
A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.
Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.
Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.
At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.
He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.
And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.
"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.
The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?
His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.
Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.
He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.
When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.
From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.
It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.
———
Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.
The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?
Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.
As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.
How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?
The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.
Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.
It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.
You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.
You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.
So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.
But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.
———
Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.
By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.
Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.
He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.
"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.
You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."
"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."
Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.
There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.
“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.
They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.
Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."
His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"
Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”
He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."
You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.
It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"
There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.
The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.
One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.
"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.
You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.
Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?
Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.
Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.
Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.
You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.
So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.
From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.
"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."
It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.
———
Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.
It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.
It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.
Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.
Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.
Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.
The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"
When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.
"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."
The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"
“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.
It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”
The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.
Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."
Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.
"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."
"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.
All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"
He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.
Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.
"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"
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