Hello there! I hope you don’t mind (or if I’m not bothering) but is it possible to request yandere headcanons for Fire bird? Oh! Also, thank you for your amazing works (remember to take care of yourself!) and I hope you have a wonderful day!
Not at all, dear, I am more than happy to!
And thank you for the considerate words. You do that, too, alright?
(A Yandere AU of Lobotomy Corporation where I made a mythical creature from Slavic folklore into an attention-seeking pretty boy. OOC and fanon are to be expected.)
"Nothing brings this Abnormality as much joy as a good hunt would, especially when the prey being hunted is him."
⸸ Imagine...he was once a bird of legend. A volucris of such beautiful plumage that thousands of men died because of their greed for his feathers.
⸸ If he were to soar the skies in the dead of night, he would shine over the world like a second sun.
⸸ But now, his feathers had become so black, they look no different from the void in space. The only remainder of his former legendary status was the weak flame of his heart. It is burning just bright enough to show that he is alive...but not living.
⸸ People had long stopped believing in him. No longer do people consider his feather a sign of good fortune, nor are they willing to go on dangerous quests to hunt him down.
⸸ So, is there really still a point for his existence?
⸸ As would be expected from someone who craves attention, O-02-101 detests Insight work. Their poor darling who is only doing it because it is their job would have to endure the full brunt of his tantrum.
⸸ No, he will not lash out or speak up about it. That would be too indignant for someone magnificent like him. He isn't a savage like those Birds. Instead, his darling would have to realize what he wants on their own.
⸸ While they wipe away the beads of sweat rolling down their face, they fail to realize that the reason why the temperature is so hot, is because O-02-101 is fuming.
⸸ Because how dare they pay more attention to that funny machine on the wall. Was that thing more intriguing than him? Said funny machine is actually his containment unit's thermostat, and the poor agent is trying to adjust the room temperature.
⸸ He may consider himself better than than the other Abnormalities, but he wouldn't be classified as a WAW for nothing.
⸸ On the not so rare occasion he is upset about his darling, his containment unit's temperature would rise by one degree (in Celsius) for every line they cross. The normal room temperature is 10 degrees, which may seem cool enough...until one realizes how easily triggered he is.
⸸ To make matters worse for his darling, he is also triggered by positive treatment.
⸸ Just to list the few ways Agent N provoked him:
Not paying enough attention to him
Paying him too much attention
Complimenting his appearance
Rejecting his EGO gift
Mentioning Abnormalities, O-02-62, O-02-56, O-02-40, and F-01-37
...and the list goes on.
⸸ He doesn't mean to burn or hurt his darling...but he would be lying if he said seeing them struggle because of him doesn't bring him pleasure. He enjoys knowing that even like this, he is still a challenge to deal with. No one wants to look easy now, do they?
⸸ Rest assured, he would never let his darling die. The moment he sees them collapse, he will use his flames to regenerate their wounds, both physical and mental.
⸸ And as the Manager (and everyone else) would eventually realize, his concern for the agent is the only way to prevent him from trying to burn everything down. His sadism would naturally produce a high number of PE boxes, but his Qlipoth Counter level won't drop if he's too preoccupied with his beloved's wellbeing.
⸸ Though this shouldn't be abused because if their Darling truly does die, a single burning room will be the least of the Manager's problems.
"For the sake of the facility, it is better to sacrifice Agent N to avoid a department-wide fire by O-02-101."
⸸ The rule of thumb is: don't let him feel unnoticed or unappreciated. But remember to not stroke his ego too much that he feels confident enough to breach.
⸸ In the event that he does, he will most likely just be following his beloved agent around. The facility's temperature may rise dramatically, but this is nothing lethal compared to what he will be provoked.
"O-02-101 may love to be sought after, but that doesn't mean the Abnormality won't pay back kindly in its own way. Unless the facility has enough fire-extinguishers, do not suppress it."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anon, your request inadvertently opened up a lot of ideas for me.
⸸ Elsa's Snow Queen/King's headcanons
⸸ Firebird's rivalry against the Birds of Black Forest and SQ/K
⸸ Or maybe said birds begrudgingly 'sharing' their darling
i was working on ur request and got side tracked. thinking about yan diluc and how bad he wants his captive little darling.. jerking off to the thought of them, moaning their name, so so frustrated and he aches with want. and reader. reader hears it every time, sometimes is witness to it. how desperate he is, how obsessed he is. maybe reader is sometimes awoken by the sound of him while he sleeps next to them. maybe he does it in front of them because he won't hurt you but please, please let him look at you? holding you down while he jacks off, eyes clenched closed so he can pretend it's in you. steadily losing his resolve bit by bit. ohoho my mind is running rampant.
every day. EVERY DAY i think about yan diluc. i am so sorry to my followers but i see a pathetic aristocratic repressed man and i go AHJDVNJKFVDJNKFVkjn.
cw: kidnapping, non-consensual touching, yandere, reader wears a nightgown, diluc's saviour complex. (bondage and being fed in a Non Sexy way) dub-con/non-con.
He makes you sleep in his bed.
It's for precaution, he insists, his crimson gaze not quite meeting your own; to ensure that you're safe. He just feels more comfortable, more assured that you are sheltered from the dangers of the world, if you slumber beside him - if he slips in late at night after whatever business he attends to that has him come back smelling of blood and burning, and sees you peaceful beneath his own coverlets.
You hold your tongue; bite back the insistence that you would be safer if you were not a captive in the house of a madman, if you were permitted your freedom, if he wasn't so selfish and disgusting and monstrous. You have long since learnt such protestations mean nothing to Diluc; he simply bows his head, face anguished, and makes a quiet noise of agreement that he is a monster.
("It is worth it, though," he says, and you see the vision he wears at his hip glow for a moment, "to know that you are safe, beloved.")
One falls quickly into routine when routine is all that one is allowed to partake in. You are permitted only the smallest freedoms; most of your time is spent under Adelinde's watchful eye, trapped in the four walls of the winery, wishing you had appreciated the freedom of Monstadt when you were still able to partake in what the Anemo Archon blessed you with.
And your routine, now, includes . . . slipping on one of the expensive confections of frill and lace and chiffon that Diluc buys you to wear in bed. Spraying some of the perfume that he brings back from his trips, in the vain hope that it will drown out Diluc's own particular cedarwood and vintage wine and iron scent. Slipping beneath the covers and hoping that sleep will come easy to you, that you will not be woken by the inevitable--
You always are. The feel of the bed dipping down beside you; the soft sigh that escapes Diluc's mouth, as the covers are pulled down and you are revealed to his hungry eyes.
The nightgowns are modest; innocent, even. They are all frills and fanciful creams and ivories, georgette sleeves that drape over your shoulders, ruching and delicate lamp-grass embroidery and little ribbons in Diluc's favourite colour (red, it's always red). That just seems to rile him up more.
The feel of a hand, grazing atop of the fabric - his hand searing heat even when he does not fully touch you. The soft little groan of your name, so longing and wanting it almost makes you sick. And then . . . the sound of Diluc's own nightclothes, being displaced. The wet shlick of skin-on-skin, as he touches himself to the sight of your helpless body, whilst he thinks you're sleeping.
You have lost count of the number of times you have woken to the sounds of Diluc touching himself. Your name, gasped out through clenched teeth in heated hisses - praise for you, calling you his darling, so good for him, so beautiful and lovely . . . Calling you his. Mumbling to himself about how pretty you are, how soft and warm and tight he's certain you are as he imagines he is rutting his cock into something other than his fist.
You keep your eyes squeezed shut. You can take this; you can live with this. You can bear it, if all he is going to do is lie beside you and fantasise. You hear the whine when he comes, feel the way his back arches, the way he pants and pants and how the rhythm of his hand and the slick sounds change a little--
He always touches you with those hands, afterwards. Always pulls you against him spoon-fashion. Always drops hot kisses along your throat and drags you against him in such a tight hold you think he fears ever letting go, with his own come drying on the sheets and messing your nightgown.
(It doesn't bother him; he does not do his own laundry, and Adelinde looks at you in the mornings when she comes to strip the beds and gives you an encouraging smile. She had told you, once, when you had been new here and still railing against your imprisonment--
"Master Diluc is lonely," she'd said, sighing, "I have not seen him so happy as he is in your presence for many years."
As she had checked the tightness of your ropes, sharper eyes than one would expect of a maid had met yours.
"I don't need to tell you how much of Monstadt rely on Master Diluc," she says. "On the business of the Dawn Winery? Do you not think that a little unhappiness may be your responsibility to bear?"
"It's barbaric!" You'd snapped back. "He wants me to be . . . some imprisoned bird in a pretty cage!"
Adelinde's face sets like stone. Diluc was away that night; when she had brought up a tray for your dinner, the soup had been stone cold.
"Do you know how many natural predators birds have?" She'd asked you, a falsely polite smile on her face as she ladled the cold soup into your mouth and you had no choice but to swallow it. "Why, I've seen Master Diluc take several out with a single arrow. Perhaps a songbird ought to be glad it is ornamental enough to be spared that fate.")
You should have known that Diluc would not be satisfied with merely lying beside you, having you so close and yet not doing anything about it. The first time his other hand had crept to your thigh, pushing up the lacy hem, your eyes had snapped open.
"Diluc?" You had whispered, softly, into the night - hoping that your voice may be soft enough and persuasive enough to make him ashamed of it. "Wh-what are you doing?"
A ragged voice had answered you.
"I just . . . just let me look at you, darling. Just let me . . . touch you a little--"
Burning hands on bare skin. Diluc, shifting, so he lay on his side - big wine-dark eyes seeking you out in the moonlight filtered through the curtain as he groaned out your name.
"So pretty," he'd said, as he'd pushed the nightgown higher and higher. Bare thighs. bare stomach. The place between your thighs. A soft groan had escaped him at the sight. "Spread your legs for me. Please."
"Diluc--"
"I won't-- I won't hurt you--" He practically tripped over his tongue in his urges. "Please. I just want to look at you, darling, beloved, angel--"
. . . Just look. Just gaze on you. You sleep in the same bed, but you are - now at least - trusted to do such personal matters as bathe and undress on your own. Adelinde had helped, when you were still bound . . . but you had been good, and you had earnt your freedoms. A sob hiccups in your throat as you bare yourself to him. Your cheeks heat at how hungrily his gaze devours you.
"So beautiful," he whines, hand going to his cock - the first time you've seen it, properly. Pretty - thick, long, with a flushed ruddy tip and a gentle curve, soaking precome as his fingers wrap about it. "Please stay like that. Hnn-- Just . . . just let me think about how you feel, I won't hurt you, I promise I promise I promise--"
But just a little turns into more far quicker than people expect. At first it just just looking at you - and then--
"Just let me touch your thighs," Diluc whispers, his breath hot against your cheek as he lavishes the warmed skin with kisses. "Ahh-- hnn, they're so much softer than my hand . . . Is this what you'd feel like . . . inside?"
"Just let me settle between your legs," Diluc begs you. "Just . . . let me hold you by the hip, let me imagine I'm inside of you, darling, please, I need to--"
"Hold my other hand. Please."
"Just . . . against your thighs. Let me rut it against your thighs. I'm begging you, beloved, if you don't I think I shall simply die--"
"Kiss me--"
When he presses it against the cleft of your sex and whispers;
"Just the tip - I promise, my darling. I would never hurt you. Have I ever? Please . . . I simply need to feel every part of you--"
. . . What else can you do, a captive ornamental bird in a fine cage, but accept it? Spread your legs wider and welcome him in?
It was always going to come to this.
It is still a better fate, you suppose, than being shot down in flight.
ᵔᴗᵔ . . 𝗮 𝘁𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝗺𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗰𝗶𝗻𝗲 !
ᴖ.ᴖ . . fem!reader ⁝ wc. 1k ⁝ reblog
𝘀𝗰𝗮𝗿𝗮𝗺𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵𝗲 [𝘄𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝗲𝗿]
as was foreseeable, you were more bitter than a radish over your lover’s affairs in sumeru; with the pesky follower he met in the midst of his search for godhood being the victim of your ire. she should be grateful for your show of mercy to spare her life, or else you would’ve jumped on the chance in a heartbeat.
it could’ve ended well if he didn’t dangle the idiot leech of a researcher’s devotion over your head, using it to his heart’s content to keep you obedient. “haypasia would not dare to behave so insolently,” and “haypasia would’ve done what i asked without question.”
haypasia this, haypasia that.
Keep reading
About: General headcanons for when they work together to secure - and share - your love.
Warnings: General yandere traits such as obsession and manipulation, along with the idea of trapping you by binding you with them. Crosses into suggestive content a little, but nothing explicitly NSFW.
Pair: Xiao & Venti
Future post: may do a Zhongli & Childe or Kazuha & Heizou version later on, if there is interest.
Only 18+ readers, just as a safety precaution - my Genshin works may cross into suggestive territory, but TWST will remain SFW due to the setting of students and minors.
Keep reading
𓍢 summary. taking away their cuddling privileges for a month after a fight had happened
𓍢 cw. grammatical mistakes may occur, having to reject their cuddle sessions, usage of call signs
𓍢 includes. childe, diluc, albedo, scaramouche, kazuha
part two
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Title: Clingy.
Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.
Pairing: Yandere!Wanderer x Reader (Genshin).
Word Count: 5.0k.
TW: AFAB!Reader, Modern AU, Non/Con, Blood, Intimidation/Threats of Violence, Toxic Relationships, Emotional Abuse, Slight Financial Abuse, and Codependent Behavior.
On your third date, your boyfriend-at-the-time demanded that you give him a spare key to your ‘shitty shoebox of an apartment’, despite refusing to so much as let you into the penthouse Ei had leased for him while going to a university a hundred or so miles away from the multi-story, marble sculpted, beachside mansion he’d reluctantly flown you out to when he got sick of listening to you ask why he still hadn't introduced you to his moms eight months into your relationship. That probably should’ve been your first red flag, but somehow, you’d persisted. He brought out your competitive side, like that.
He made you want to dig your nails in, plant your teeth in your neck, and refuse to let go. It wasn’t good for you, but nothing he did was good for anyone. That never stopped him from doing it, though.
You could only assume that this – Kunikuzushi, your boyfriend of eighteen months and your ex-boyfriend of one, splayed across the couch in your living room, the keys he’d never given back dangling from his ring finger and the phone you’d forgotten when you left for work that morning in the other – wasn’t going to be good for you, either.
You didn’t say anything at first. It was all you could do to groan, to shake your head, to pretend you didn’t see him or didn’t care long enough to throw your messenger bag onto the nearest chair and tear off your jacket. He’d clearly made himself at home. A textbook was open on your coffee table, a drink from the cheap, trendy café he’d always whined about having to take you to sitting half-empty next to it. He wasn’t looking at either, though, his attention entirely centered on your phone. You didn’t have the energy to pretend to be surprised. He used to like to go through your conversations and delete the contacts he ‘didn’t trust’ when you were together, too, but you’d been more willing to write it off as the cute-but-concerning tick of a jealous boyfriend, back then. You must’ve fallen out of practice after your breakup.
You opened your mouth, but he was ultimately the one to break the silence. “You know Ajax?”
You crossed your arms. “Why are you here?”
“I mean, I know you’re in the same microbiology course, but c’mon, him? The fucker couldn’t tell a proton from a nucleolus. Honestly, I’m surprised he hadn’t flunked out yet. Give it another semester - he’ll be gone by spring, I promise.”
“I didn’t say you could come over.”
“I texted you last night. Did you try to block me again?” You’d blocked him, then reported his number, then changed yours when he’d started using burner phones to drunk dial you in the small hours of the morning and leave disjointed, rambling voice mails about how well he was doing without you, how much time he had now that you weren’t pestering him, how many people he’d slept with since the last time you'd seen each other. All of it was bullshit, obviously, but it was his bullshit. Somehow, he always knew just how to get under your skin. “Scratch that – I’ll take care of it. I should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to get through a month without my help.”
You grit your teeth. Swallowing as much of your anger as you could, you stepped in front of him, snatching your phone out of his hands and retreating before he had a chance to take it back. You were tempted to look at what he’d been scrolling through, see which conversation had gotten him so upset, but you forced yourself to turn off your phone completely, to set it down on the far side of your coffee table and think about something else. It’d take hours to fix the damage he’d done, to unblock all the acquaintances he didn’t approve of and the apologize to all the friends he'd insulted under your name. You’d rather get rid of him first, then try to fix everything he'd already started to tear apart. “Get out.”
He scanned over you, his eyes lingering on the wrinkles in your button-up shirt, the cheap material of your dress pants. “Y'know, if we were still together, you wouldn’t have to put up with that shitty job. You could just quit and finally move in with me.”
Once, you’d let him buy you a new laptop when yours gave out in the middle of the semester and you didn’t think you’d be able to scrape enough up for another before you next exam. It’d been a used model, already a few years out of date, and you swore up and down that you’d pay him back when you had the money, but he’d held it over your head for months, smirked and gloated and taken every opportunity to remind you how grateful you should be to have a boyfriend so willing to spoil his oh-so-unfortunate partner. He hadn’t let you pay him back. He hadn’t let you pay for anything until he’d gotten tired of playing savior and went back to acting like a brat, too desperate for your attention to care if he was in-charge. You doubt he’d be any more bearable if you actually moved in with him, if you lived in his house and relied on his good-will. If you actually depended on him.
But, rather trying to say any of that in a way he’d understand, you sighed, clenching your eyes shut. “It’s an internship and I need it for my major. Get out.”
His scowl wavered. “When did you get so bossy? This isn’t going to work if you think you can tell me what to do.”
“I’m not bossy, you’re just a prick. Get out.”
He sat up, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Cut it out. I’m not going to want to get back together if you keep acting so immature.
“I don’t want to get back together with you.” And then, gesturing towards your door. “Get. Out.”
If nothing else, that seemed to shut him up.
It took a few seconds, but eventually, he responded. There was an airy laugh, a thin smile, a certain air of hurt disbelief as he sat up. “You really aren't kidding, are you?”
You didn’t indulge him with a reaction. Rather, you watched with a pressed scowl as he pushed himself to his feet and stepped toward you. He was in his usually ‘too cool to try, but too bored not to’ get-up – ripped jeans and long sleeves striped in black and violet, half a dozen rings and bolts pierced into the curve of each ear and a belt from a brand you couldn’t name, but knew you were supposed to tacked on to further feed into his ego. He must’ve been here all day. His short hair was more disheveled than he usually liked it to be, and you could see more irritation in his dark eyes than you were used to, paired with a certain type of frustration that only ever slipped out when you managed to keep him waiting. You hadn’t, technically (you couldn’t be late to meet someone who you didn’t want to see), but you didn’t bother trying to point that out.
“I thought it’d be nice to see you after… How long? Five weeks?” He glanced down, starting to toy with something in his back pocket. “I thought we could order lunch, talk for a while, maybe watch a movie or something. Then, I don’t know…” His smile took on an apologetic lull, almost pleading. “Kiss and make up? It’s not like any of this is new for us.”
He wasn’t wrong. You’d been together for a year and a half, and most of that had been spent caught up in ear-splitting, tear-inducing, world-ending fights. He’d burn the notes you borrowed from your classmate, and you'd refuse to talk to him for a week. You’d decide you were over his constant mood swings and go on a date with the cute guy from your calculus class, and he’d mail a slab of raw meat to your best friend because, in his own words, ‘you couldn’t come up with such a stupid idea by yourself’. It wasn’t balanced, you would never be able to give as much as he took, but still. When he started yelling, you did too, and when he showed up at your door a few days later, his eyes still bloodshot from crying, you always took him back. Because he was Kunikuzushi. Because you loved him.
Because you knew he’d make your life hell, if you didn’t.
Which was exactly why you couldn’t just… kiss and make up, this time. Not if it’d mean swallowing your pride and letting him get everything he wanted.
You sighed, but kept your arms crossed, your expression stern. “I’m tired, Kuni. I don’t want to do this anymore.” You paused, bit down on the side of your tongue. “It’s not good for either of us. We’re not good together. I don’t want to pretend that we are.”
His smile wavered, but didn’t fall. “What do you mean, babe?”
“I mean,” You braced yourself, shut your eyes. “I think you should leave.”
At least he seemed to hear that. You watched with as little sympathy as you could manage as his grin cracked and fell away, as his shoulders slumped downward, as he let out an airy chuckle that cracked halfway through. “You’re breaking up with me?”
“We broke up a month ago.” And he’s been insufferable ever since. “And we’re not getting back together.”
Parted lips, glassy eyes. He raked a hand through his bangs, doing what he could to blink away the tears slowly forming in the corners of his eyes. This wasn’t new, and yet, you still found yourself struggling not to break, not to embrace him and mutter soothing nothings while he sobbed quietly into your shirt and wrapped his arms around your waist and, inevitably, ended up on his knees, his face buried between your legs as he made you cum until you forgot why you’d been mad at him in the first place. “Fine. That’s fine. Honestly, that’s great. I don’t know why I’d ever want to be with such a heartless bit—” His voice broke before he could finish. He made a half-hearted effort to wipe at his eyes, but that only drew more attention to the tears starting to roll down his flushed cheeks, only made you more tempted to pull him into a kiss and act like this had never happened. “Fine. If you’re really that sick of me, I’ll go.”
He pushed past you, starting towards your door. That was what you wanted. Kunikuzushi gone, your apartment empty, your life just a little less fucked than it always seemed to be when he was a part of it. You should’ve let him go. You should’ve stood there until he was gone. You should’ve let him leave.
But you heard another hitched sob, a string of muttered swearing, and something in your chest broke open. With a shallow sigh, you dropped your arms to your sides, forcing yourself to speak through clenched teeth. “…do you want a hug before you leave?”
Kunikuzushi glanced over his shoulder. “A hug? What do you think I am, a toddler?”
“It's the only thing I'm putting on the table. Do you want it or—”
You never got the chance to finish. His arms were already around you, pinning your arms to your torso as he buried his face in your shirt. You choked back your protests, forced yourself to fight the instinct to push him away, and in a few excoriating seconds, his hold on you loosened, his back straightening, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder and his lips pressing into your neck. There was a lingering8 kiss laid onto your jugular, then another to the corner of your jaw, but you didn’t bother to try and push him away. Instead, you only shifted in his arms, nudging at his chest. You’d gotten yourself into this, called him back when he was a few steps away from leaving. You only had yourself to blame. “I didn’t say you could—”
“I knew you’d change your mind.” A hand fell to the small of your back, the heel of his palm pressing into the base of your spine. “You always do. You always make the right choice, in the end.”
You opened your mouth, ready to remind him that you weren’t taking him back, but you hesitated. He was always weird, just a little too hostile, just a little too desperate to keep you close to him, but you didn’t trust the levity in his voice, the way his smile pressed into your skin despite how close he’d come to crying a few minutes ago. “I think…” You trailed off, bit down on the side of your tongue. “I haven't changed my mind. You have to—”
Something flat and stiff pressed into your back – the blunt edge of a switchblade. His switchblade, you realized, dredging up hazy memories of bandages wrapped around thighs and hollow promises that he’d be more careful, next time. You heard his nails drum against smooth metal, felt something cold and sharp cut into the skin above your shoulder blade, and you froze, your mind instantly going blank.
He laughed, the noise cracking and airy. Warm breath fanned over the crook of your neck, and he melted into you, nuzzling into the curve of your throat. “I love you.” And then, pressing the blade into your flesh. “Say you love me too.”
Automatic, robotic. The only thing you could spit out through grit teeth. “I love you.”
Another laugh – more giddy, this time, more eager. If he noticed your reluctance, it clearly didn’t bother him. The switchblade was pulled up to the nape of your neck, then drawn in a loose arch to your collarbone, the tip never leaving your skin. “I mean, yeah, obviously. That’s why we get to stay together, even when we’re at each other’s throats.”
He paused, burrowed into you. In turn, you were dragged further into his chest, but pushed away just as quickly, allowed to get just far enough to make it possible for Kunikuzushi to raise his free hand to the collar of your shirt and drag you into a clumsy, rushed kiss – too rough and too forceful for anyone but him to enjoy. His teeth scraped against your lips, his tongue dragging over yours, but he pulled away with a breathy groan, his pale cheeks flushed and his eyes still glossed over. “…you didn’t get with anyone while I was gone, right? You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”
How could you? He hadn’t given you room to breathe, let alone get past anything more than a first date with someone new. Even when you’d been together (actually together, not fighting or on a break), he’d been so suffocating, so possessive, you’d never been able to get any further than heavy petting, oral, his body on top of yours and your legs wrapped around his waist before he said something you couldn’t brush off and the night devolved into something... less romantic. It was hard to be with someone like Kunikuzushi, someone who acted like they’d rather give up the air in their lungs than a second of your time. Even after a year and a half, it was hard to let your guard down around him when he seemed so willing to give you every reason you ever could've needed to keep it up.
You guessed you should’ve expected this, looking back on it. He’d was bound to get tired of waiting for you to trust him eventually.
This was just his way of letting you know that he’d never really needed you to, in the first place.
Stiltedly, you shook your head, and he let out a relieved sigh. “Perfect. That’s why we’re supposed to be together.” He kissed the corner of your lips, then your forehead. “You’d never hurt me.”
He didn’t give you time to respond. Instead, he took you by the hand – his fingers intertwining with yours as he turned and tugged you forward, moving to lead you further into your apartment. The switchblade left your skin, falling momentarily to his side, and for a few brief seconds, you considered trying to get away, jerking yourself out of your hold and running as far away as you could get from him and his fucking issues. You made a passing effort, but Kunikuzushi’s grip turned crushing as soon as you began to shift, and you gave up before he could break something more vital than your heart. He was between you and the door, you and your phone. He had a knife, a weapon. He had you, and until he decided he was done, he wasn’t going to let you go without a fight.
With little ceremony, you were drawn out of your living room and into your cramped bedroom. Kunikuzushi let go of your hand, but you didn’t have time to run before you were being pushed onto your unmade bed, before he was straddling your waist and pinning you to the center of the mattress. The knife was brought back to your neck, but quickly plunged lower, slid beneath your uppermost button and used to separate thread from fabric. Somehow, annoyance managed to overshadow your panic, if only for as long as it took for one rational thought to be followed by another. This was your nicest shirt, one of a handful you’d splurged on for your internship, but it wasn’t like Kunikuzushi would ever understand anything like that. It wasn’t like he’d ever tried to, before.
The tip caught on the slight dip below your diaphragm and you winced, a few dots of red immediately seeping into white fabric. You winced, beginning to protest on reflex. “Kuni’, that—”
“I’ll take care of it.” Absentminded, only half conscious that he was speaking at all. He reached the hem, pulling his switchblade free and letting your dress shirt fall away from your chest and over your shoulders, as useless as it was embarrassing. “I’ll take care of everything when we’re done. Just sit pretty and keep your mouth shut for a while.”
Really, you could only wonder why you hadn’t dumped him sooner.
Your pants were next, slits carved into the material over your hips and ruined fabric torn away. He moved to cut off your boxers, too, but seemed to hesitate, to linger, to find the strength to pause just long enough to drag two fingers over your clothed slit and press the pad of his thumb into your clit. You hissed at the friction, but Kunikuzushi only smiled, dipping his head low enough for his lips to ghost over your collarbone, then the midline of your chest, then the tender spot just below your navel. The last was accompanied by a slight groan, throaty and deep. You did what you could to block it out. This would be better if you didn’t think about it, if you just imagined he was trying to win you back after a fight, that there was a wilting rose in his other hand and not a knife already stained with your blood.
It was almost a mercy when his hands finally slipped under the hem of your boxers, doing away with your last layer of protection with only a slight laugh and a lilting smile. You did what you could to relax, to lean back and close your eyes, but Kunikuzushi’s weight was an ever-present anchor to reality, only made worse as he shifted lower, as he pulled your legs apart and threw them over his shoulders. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into the inside of your thighs, his teeth ghosting over tender flesh as he sucked harsh bruises into whatever he could reach. This was his favorite part, by far. He’d always been clingy – possessive to the point of total, nail-biting, jaw-locking paranoia. At first, you’d been able to write it off as a sort of overeager enthusiasm that came with a new relationship, but he’d never stopped. He was always ready, always desperate to dig his teeth into your skin and leave as many marks as you’d let him – or rather, as many as he possibly could before you were able to pry him away. Even then, you’d tried to think of it as cute, just one of the quirks of your immature-but-loving boyfriend. Now, all you could do was hope it’d be over soon.
It took him full minutes to actually reach your cunt, for his tongue to lave over your slit. Instantly, you stiffened, clenching your eyes shut and attempting to ignore the heady sounds of his whimpering moans, the feeling of his tongue tracing patterns in your entrance. It was sloppy, messy, all drool and teeth and clutching hands, but warmth flooded into your core as the bridge of his nose ground into your clit, as his hands wrapped around your hips and dragged you that much closer to his mouth. Everything he did was dirty, but he knew you, knew your body, knew that you’d have to spread your legs as soon as his tongue thrust into you.
You arched your back as two fingers slid into your entrance alongside his tongue, scissoring you open while his attention shifted to your clit – his lips sealing around the sensitive bundle of nerves while he sucked gently. If he hadn’t been so vocal, it might’ve been more bearable, but no, he couldn’t seem to stop whining into your cunt, to stop sending waves of those awful reverberations from your clit to your core every time he whimpered or grunted or moaned. Before you could stop yourself, your hips were rolling weakly against his mouth as he nursed you through your sudden climax. When you fell limp, his mouth fell away, but his hand still cupped your pussy, his fingers still curling and thrusting inside of you.
He didn’t slow down, didn’t let up, not until you were crying out and clenching around him, not until you could feel the slick running down your thighs, soaking into your sheets. He didn’t stop until you were babbling – spitting out incoherent pleas for him to slow down before the overstimulation turned from overwhelming to agonizing. You were forced to endure another kiss to the inside of your thigh, the wet sound of his tongue running over his fingers, but he pulled away in a few seconds, finally letting you have just enough space to breathe. Even that was temporary, cut short by his lips crashing into yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, as little as you wanted to. You could feel him panting against your lips, and it was all you could do not to scream.
He pulled away abruptly, grinning. “You’re a virgin.”
It wasn’t a question, but you found yourself shaking your head, denying it on instinct. “I never—"
“You didn’t have to.” There was a peck to the corner of your lips, another to your cheek. “I know everything about you. Your parents were too strict to let you date in high school, and none one’s ever lasted more than a couple of weeks with you before me. Since you wouldn’t so much as take off your shirt around me before our three-month anniversary, I’m going to assume you weren’t a total slut before we met.”
You narrowed your eyes, shoving gently at his chest. You just needed space. You just needed him to get away from you. “So?”
“So,” he leaned in, his smiling growing that much wider. “I’m going to ruin you.”
It was something about his tone, the dark glint in his eyes as he leered over you. Your heart dropped in your chest, and very distinctly, something very large and very sharp began to crawl up your throat.
You started to shake your head, but he was already edging jeans downward, already freeing his cock – the flushed tip leaking precum in fat, white pearls. His weight was enough to keep you pinned down as he aligned himself with your entrance, as he traced the head over the length of your slit, and his eyes never left your face, your expression painted with heavy strokes of horror and disbelief. He never wavered, never blinked, even as he thrust inside of you, bottoming out in a single uninterrupted motion. Even as you cried out, the sound more pained than anything else. Even as you felt a single, warm teardrop fall off of his cheek and onto yours. You hadn’t realized you’d shut your eyes, not until you forced yourself to open them, not until you found him cloudy-eyed and grinning above you.
He was crying, again.
Huh.
You thought he would’ve given up on that, by now.
He wasn’t gentle. He’d never been delicate with you, but right now, it felt like he was trying to be rough, to pin your legs against your chest and split you open every time he moved his hips, every time he found a way to hit something deeper and more sensitive inside of you. You tried to scream, but your voice caught in your throat, strangling itself into something more akin to a cracked whine and a few broken whimpers. The stretch, the pressure was more than you could take. You couldn’t stop yourself – going rigid underneath him, your eyes rolling back as your mouth fell open in a silent, agonized cry. Your reactions, however involuntary, only seemed to spur Kunikuzushi on, his pace growing more erratic and his breath now coming in quick, shallow pants. No matter what you did, it just made him worse.
You could hear him talking, distantly – little mumbled tangents forming between thrusts. “You’re just so—” He cut himself off with a long, wordless moan. “We’ll do this every day, until— until you know you don’t need anyone but me. Then, you’ll love me, and you’ll never have to—” He thrust deeper into you, letting out a fracturing laugh. “And then, I’ll rip out your tongue and cut off your legs if you try to leave. We’ll always be together. No one will ever, ever take you away from me again.”
You weren’t with him. You didn’t want to be with him. If it wasn’t for his immaturity, his manipulativeness, his fucking knife, this wouldn’t be—
His knife.
Both of his hands were on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh, keeping your knees pressed into your chest. He wasn’t holding it. He couldn’t be.
Without daring to look away from him, you groped around the mattress blindly, your fingertips eventually brushing against something cold and metallic – his switchblade lying abandoned on the edge of the bed. You took it up before you could hesitate, gripping the handle tightly enough for the sharp corners to bite into your palm, for your hand to cramp and go numb by the time you found the strength to actually lift it up. You didn’t aim. You didn’t have time to, not unless you wanted to think about what you were doing, not unless you wanted to let Kunikuzushi win. Not unless you could—
The curved tip just barely made contact with the skin above his collarbone before you faltered, before he had time to catch your wrist in an iron-clad hold. You tried to let go of the switchblade reflexively, but his hand shifted to wrap around yours, to keep the blade pressed into his chest – applying just enough pressure to break the skin. “Do it.” Soft, drawn out, too eager to mean anything good. “I’d let you carve your name into me, if you wanted to. All you'd have to do is ask.”
You didn’t ask. You didn’t want to. You didn't want any of this, but Kunikuzushi pressed the blade in his skin regardless, letting out muttered confessions of love and loyalty as a thin red line formed in his flesh, as blood dripped down his chest and disappeared behind the loose collar of his shirt, blotting against the dark fabric. He guided your blade to his lips, next, making a small nick in the corner of his mouth before taking the switchblade out of your hand and tossing it onto the floor, out of your reach. It would’ve hurt less if he’d tried to hurt you, too, taken the blade to your skin after his own. If would've hurt less if he’d acknowledged that you’d tried to do anything at all.
You didn’t have much time to linger on that thought, though. He was already moving again, already making up for time lost by fucking into you like a man crazed. With no preparation, no warning, he jerked forward, his chest pressing into yours as he kissed you, as he forced his tongue past your teeth and smeared his blood over your lips. It felt like you were drowning in nickel, being slowly suffocated by some nameless, slick, oppressive force. It felt like you were choking, despite being able to breathe, to think as clearly as you’d ever been able to around him. It felt like you were going to die.
But, you weren’t. He’d never be so kind, he’d never let you have that kind of comfort, not when he was still grinding into you, not when his cock was twitching against the walls of cunt and he was groaning into your mouth without reservation. You could feel your poor overstimulated pussy clenching around him, your vision burning white around the edges as, for lack of anything more stable to hold onto, you wrapped your arms around his neck and raked your nails over his back, clawing into whatever you could reach. If he noticed, if he cared, it only worked to drag him that much closer, to leave him as deep as he could possibly be when he finally finished, when you felt something warm and vile flood into you.
He stayed like that for a long moment, silent and unmoving, his chest pressed into yours and his lips trailing from your mouth to your throat, settling just above your jugular. It was a small mercy when he finally pulled away and straightened his back, easing himself out of you and wiping the blood off of his face, his neck. You watched from a distance as he fixed his clothes, before pushing himself to his feet, never sparing you so much as a second glance. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Pack your stuff, and make sure you’ve gotten your shit together by then. I’m not letting a mess like you into my apartment.” He paused, lingered long enough to smile. With no sense of visible urgency, he walked to the side of your bed, retrieving his switchblade and kissing your forehead softly, gingerly, with a kind of tenderness you could only wish he’d found a few hours earlier. “I love you, babe. Even when you act like a fucking idiot.”
His grin pressed into flesh, cutting and cruel.
“And I’m so, so glad you’ve realized that you love me too.”
— In which their s/o gets kidnapped
Scaramouche | Diluc | Raiden Ei | Cyno
Tags & Notes | GN! Reader, hurt to comfort (?), a little angst. Reblogs and comments are very appreciated. Stay safe and healthy everyone! <33
Warnings | Mentions of torture.
Additional Note | The 3.1 trailer was honestly everything to me, Scaramouche’s comeback, Dottore’s first appearance in the game, Cyno and Al Haitham fight, and Candace <3
•─────────────────•
SCARAMOUCHE
“Find them! If I see one scratch on them, I will turn you all into corpses!”
He’s obviously not having any of this.
You said it yourself that you would be by his side no matter what and he let you in his life and now…
Oh, a fool he was to let his subordinates take care of this matter.
“On a second thought, I’ll handle this myself”
He’ll bring only a few to help him clean the mess he’s going to be making once he’s done with the people who decided to take his jewel away from him.
Keep reading
tw/cw: implied nsfw, 18+ only, marking, mostly fluff + yearning
SCARAMOUCHE can’t love you the way a human can.
he won’t tell you how much your presence soothes him, why he constantly seeks you out to give you inane orders, missions. he can’t tell you what he really thinks of you—you smell nice, your hand in his is warm, you make him feel something in his chest that he swore was long ago discarded. so he hides his kindness, his ever-so-fallible emotions, behind his lightning strikes.
“tsk, you’re such an idiot.” “are you really going to ask me a question you already know the answer to?” “get over here. don’t make me repeat myself.”
he thinks you’re a fool. it is one thing to love him as a god, to revere him and dedicate your life to him—but to love him as a man, in a human way? idiotic. absurd.
scaramouche is so used to people leaving him, discarding him once they grow bored or he loses his usefulnesss. he is not too much of a liar to acknowledge the fear exists in him: that one day you may do the same—leave him, discard him once you see how truly inferior he is to others.
it is hard enough to be a puppet whose strings were cut once, but to lose your audience too? it’s as if the world is crashing down on him once more.
but scaramouche wants so desperately to prove that he exists, that only he can bestow upon you the greatest ecstasy. that only he can fulfill you, leave his mark on you. he bites hard, he grips fiercely. he leaves a myriad of hickeys over every inch of you, marks you hard enough to leave purple splotches in the shape of his fingertips, angry red streaks down your back. when the marks disappear, he leaves more. and more.
they’re not going to fade like he had—you’re not going to forget him like his creator had. every day you should be reminded of how deeply he’s ingrained himself into you, how you’ll never be the same without him. he makes sure of it.
but he wonders sometimes if he should give into that softness that you awaken in him. when you’re lying bared before him, resting peacefully (something he never has to do). he likes observing you sleep, something so very human and mundane. something he would scorn to tell you if you were aware of it. brushing a strand of hair from your face, tracing patterns down your side, gripping the plushness of your thigh, he draws you closer to him this way.
in these moments, he thinks that if he had a heart, you would certainly have a tight hold on it.
that only makes him yearn for one even more.
I really like ur Kazuha x Reader x Xiao fic!!! Is there ever a time though where Xiao isn't there and y/n and Kazuha get time together or Kazuha ever get secretly jealous even though he's more so caressing and gentle?
It's been a while since I wrote for this poly ship (~ ̄³ ̄)~
(Kazuha x fem reader)
★ warnings: kinda possessive/jealous sex, unprotected sex, cumming inside, praising, bdsm, slight angst, some fluff, overstimulation
Yes kazuha does get jealous sometimes. Xiao literally clings onto you like a baby and it's sometimes frustrating.
He sometimes feels like he's not even acknowledged in the relationship. By both you and Xiao.
You know this as well as he does so that's why you try to show him an equal amount of love as much as possible.
But lately xiao's been hogging you for himself and having sex with you a lot.
It's a new morning and you've pranced downstairs to the kitchen, where kazuha currently was, with a cheerful attitude.
"Good morning kazuha! Kiss~" you plant a kiss on his lips and pull away with a happy smile but it falters when you see his disinterested expression.
"hi y/n." He mumbles before walking away.
Your heart sinks. He didn't seem all that happy...
After quickly putting two and two together, you figured you two needed to spend some alone time together.
That's why you talked to Xiao about going on a one night trip with kazuha. He was pouty and hesitant at first, obviously upset that he wouldn't be tagging along but he understood the situation and promised not to bother you two.
Now here you two were, in a fancy hotel room.
You flop onto the bouncy mattress with a content sigh before urging Kazu to join you as well. "Kazuha, come here."
He looks around the place before tossing his jacket onto a chair. "Y/n...why did we come here?"
You tilt your head. "Hm? To spend some time together of course!" You chirp.
He looks over at you in surprise before his expression turns somber and you can tell he's on the verge of tears.
In a slight panic, you rush over to cup his face. "D-dont cry Kazuha...I know Xiao can be clingy but he does care about you. And so do I."
Kazuha doesn't reply for a moment and just stares at you with fascination before smiling a small smile.
A wave of relief washes over you until you notice how his eyes darken, turning into something predatory. He gently grasps your hands before whispering. "I'll have to see if that's true."
"Huh-?" You blink until he suddenly hoists you over his shoulder, earning a squeal from you before tossing you toward the bed.
The landing knocks the air out of your lungs before Kazuha quickly crawls on top of you and grabs both your wrists to pin above your head.
You gasp while gazing up at him. "W-what are you doing?"
He pulls off the loose tie from around his neck before binding your hands. "I'm going to test and see who you truly think about when we have sex."
Your eyes grow wide as a new panic starts bubbling in your chest. "W-what?! B-but, I always think about you Kazuha-!"
"shh, if that's really true then you don't have anything to worry about," he reassures with a sly smirk before tracing down your stomach and unbuttoning your shirt as well.
Kazuha's actually pretty possessive despite not showing it.
It was sometimes frightening. in the state he's in right now, you didn't even wanna think about what would happen if you accidentally called out xiao's name instead of kazuha's...
Kazuha places a chaste kiss on your cheek before grabbing your chin. "I'm going to blindfold you too. So just relax."
Your heart pounds when a soft and smooth cloth is wrapped around your eyes and you're shrouded in darkness.
Kazuha's slender fingers trail up from the bottom of your calf all the way to your ass and he massages the flesh, earning a quiet gasp from you.
"let's take this off," he murmurs silkily before dragging your shorts down along with the underwear.
After tossing them aside on the floor, he leans down to grab your calf and sweetly kisses your ankle.
Kazuha's wet kisses trail up from your ankle to your knee. "I love you," he breathes.
"I love you, I love you," he mumbles breathlessly making you giggle from the ticklish sensation.
"I love you more." You whisper but kazuha suddenly stops and glances over at you.
"you love who more?"
Your chest suddenly tightens from the realization of what you just said and you shift uncomfortably. "kazuha, you know I didn't mean it like that—a-ah!"
A sharp inhale is sounded from you when kazuha gives a long lick up your puffy folds. He had moved on already. Yet you couldn't even tell since you had no sight of him.
He hums, sending delicious vibrations up your spine and making you moan.
"I love the way you taste. The way you smell." He groans while grabbing ahold of your plush thighs and prying them apart.
You squeak and flex your wrists against the tie, feeling slightly embarassed knowing that you were on full naked display for your boyfriend.
But it's nothing he hasn't seen before. You can't see him right now but you can hear him unzipping his pants.
"gonna make you feel so good," He pants before shuffling back and yanking your body down to the edge of the bed.
You yelp from the harsh pull until your legs are thrown over Kazuha's shoulders. He lands a harsh smack on your ass, causing you to cry out and flinch.
Why was he acting like this? This wasn't like him...it honestly seemed more like xiao's behavior.
Wait...is that what he's trying to do?? Act like Xiao to confuse you?!
That stupid jerk!
You open your mouth, ready to call him out for it but before you could even get the first letter out, Kazuha already thrusts in, filling you to the absolute brim.
A shaky moan mixed with a sob rips from your throat as you throw your head back.
Kazuha only tilts his head with a cheeky smile. He knows you figured it out. He observes you and Xiao all the time so he knows how to read you and act just like him.
That's why he's the one in charge.
Your breathing is shallow from the tingling sensation in your lower belly but your moment of rest is short lived since Kazu starts pounding away.
Electric jolts of pleasure are constantly shocking your body as you mewl and arch your back. "k-kazuha, kazuha, kazuha-"
"seems like you still remember my name. I'm impressed," he grunts while gripping your thighs.
"o-of course I remember-! Y-you're my ngh- my boyfriend," your words are breathy and barely voiced but kazuha hears them.
He continues to rut inside you, his eyes hypnotized on the way your beautiful tits bounce up and down. Your walls hug his length so fucking perfectly everytime he drags his thick cock in and out.
He sucks in a breath before running a hand up your side and squeezing. "Don't you have another boyfriend too?"
"y-yes! But I-I love them both! so much!" Your voice comes out high pitched near the end of your sentence since kazuha flicks your clit with his thumb.
His eyes soften as sweat begins to form on his overheating body. "I know. Such a good girl...our good girl."
He leans over to kiss your spit covered lips, gnawing playfully on your bottom lip. You meet it with equal passion and soon enough, your body starts to prickle with that familiar sinful buildup.
"ah, cum, I'm gonna c-cum Kazu," you mewl while relishing the way his tongue traveled around your earlobe then down your neck.
"I know. You deserve it baby. Cum for me," he whispers in a hoarse tone before grabbing your hips to keep you as close as possible.
His thrusts turn into frantic humping as your sweet juices and arousal flow down from where you two were connected.
Your pleasured moans turn into cries of overstimulation as you writhe and thrash around but as tough as it was for kazuha too, he kept going until you both reached your climaxes together.
Your legs go rigid and you grip the bedsheet once that lightning hot coil finally snaps. A broken sob slips past your lips when you shudder and float to cloud nine.
Your rhythmic pulsating walls send Kazu over the edge and he gasps before spilling inside of you, painting your insides white while beads of sweat drip down his face and chin.
He curls over your exhausted body before capturing your lips for sloppy kiss. You hum happily while bringing your arms to wrap around his neck only to remember that they were tied together.
Kazuha suddenly pulls away while out of breath. "Oh right...I almost forgot."
He removes your blindfold and restraints and you blink up at him before smiling with your chest heaving. "So..do you feel better now?"
He chuckles while caressing your face. "Yes. Thank you."
#ORGASM FEARS !
;feat. xiao, ayato, thoma, + gorou / afab!reader
;contents. insecurities, wet&messy, good bf content, hurt/comfort if u squint <3, specific warnings on individual parts
。˚ a/n. contrived from this abomination and also for @vyndior <3
✣ all characters presumed to be 18+
୨୧ minors do not interact. reblogs/comments appreciated!
requests are open!
୭ XIAO
cw: punishment, prone bone position hehe, wet&messy, squirting, mean!xiao
xiao is finicky + everyone knows that + sometimes it feels like you’re one step away from setting him off + but he also doesn’t really know much about humans + so you always are careful with him, not wanting to anger him or confuse him + you’re especially unsure how he’ll react if you squirted ): + will he think u peed on him??? u don’t think u could handle that embarrassment + what if he hates the mess???? you’d feel so bad !!!! + so you resolve yourself to faking it + and thankfully he’s none the wiser + for a while at least….
“Why did you lie to me?” he asks, hand roughly tangled in your hair, using the grip to press your face against the mattress, “did you think I wouldn’t notice? Did you think I was an idiot?”
“N-No!” you squeal, voice breaking when he meanly snaps his hips forward, thick head of his cock prodding against the gummy spot near your cervix, “I-It’s not that, Xiao!”
“Then what is it? Hm?” he hisses, “Let me hear your excuses.”
“Xiao!” you sob, legs kicking up from underneath him, where you sits to pin you down against the bed, “W-Wait! I-“
“I’m waiting,” he snaps, dragging his hips back before rolling them forward, once again sheathing his length deep within your gushing cunt, “Tell me.”
“I-I’ll make a mess!” your voice is embarrassingly pitchy the closer you get to your high.
“And?” he grunts, hips never even hesitating, “You always make a fucking mess, human. You are right now.”
You feel your cheeks burn hot in embarrassment at his words. But you know he’s not lying. You can hear the slick sounds of your own cunt being fucked and can feel the way you’re dripping all over yourself and him.
You do your best to lift your hips, grinding back against his thrusts. Your eyes roll back in your head and you cry out his name as the pleasure grows and grows.
“I-I’m close!” you squeal, mindlessly reaching back to press against his hips as if that’ll stop his mind-numbing movements, “Xiao! Please!”
“Move your hand,” he snaps, grabbing your wrist in his hand only to use it for leverage to fuck you even harder, “Take it and show me how you make a mess.”
His words ignite something in you and before you know it, you’re cumming all over him. He doesn’t stop or pause, instead he speeds up his pace. You’re squealing and crying out as your high peaks.
You wail, drool slipping down your chin, helpless to do anything as he fucks you through your orgasm. It crests and intensifies until you’re gushing all over him. You hear him curse before his own body slumps over yours, trembling and wrapping himself around you from his own orgasm.
“Don’t lie to me again, human,” he whispers, slowly rutting his hips again, “I will find out.”
୭ AYATO
cw: clit play, “lord”!ayato, shy!reader
you’ve always cum so hard + even the simplest of touches on your clit are enough to send you into body-shaking, twitching orgasms + and it’s almost embarrassing + you worry about how your body reacts, the sounds you make, the faces you make + and you worry about what ayato will think + maybe he’ll think you’re faking it or he’ll just think it’s ridiculous that u get so dumb over nothing ): + so you’re always tense and anxious + but ayato is more than determined to get you to relax with him <3
Keep reading
𝗛𝗢𝗪 𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗬 𝗞𝗜𝗦𝗦 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗘𝗫 !
˖˚˳⊹how they kiss you during sex headcanons feat. itto : kazuha : ayato : kaeya : diluc : gorou : dainsleif : xiao : childe : zhongli feat. fem! reader
˖˚˳⊹ warnings: nsfw
animalistic kisses with itto because he's way too overwhelmed with the pleasure he's feeling right now. Unable to comprehend a single thing except his cock sliding in and out of you so fucking nicely while you're whimpering against his ear. It's more teeth than anything and he uses his tongue a lot, expect your lips to be wet as fuck once he's done with you.
passionate kisses with kazuha because of the love he feels towards your being and the act on itself. For him, it's all about communication and feelings, loves when you tell him how to pleasure you against his lips. Tends to nib on your lower lip while thrusting into you slowly and sensually. Uses his tongue most of the time because of its intimacy.
short pecks with ayato because he's way too focused on fucking into your cunt. Legs thrown over his shoulders lazily while he holds you down on your waist, gradually bringing the both of you to a breathtaking climax. If you reach your hands up to his face because you're in need of some ayato kisses, he'll gladly do it and place light kisses all over your face to coax out a smile from you. Though he isn't a big kisser during the act, when it comes to aftercare, that's a whole different story I still got to tell.
sucking on your tongue with kaeya because he's just a cheeky asshole like that. He's practically begging you to open up your mouth and stick your tongue out for him to admire. He's balls deep inside of you, throbbing hole grabbing him like a vice and once he's sucking on your tongue, he can practically feel you orgasm all over him. And he knows, he's an absolute natural at this, very confident in his abilities, just the right amount of tongue, saliva, and movement from our cavalry captain.
neck kisses with diluc because he's way too embarrassed to show you his blushed face. An angry red decorating his cheeks with such intensity that he'd rather die than show you his flushed out face, he's just way too adorable. Will nibble on your earlobe and use his tongue a lot on your neck, trailing wet kisses up and down your collarbone as well, knowing exactly on where to find your sweet spot. Neck kisses are connected with passion so expect a lot of that.
whiny kisses with gorou because the way you ride him is way too much for him to take, it's beyond him now, really. He'll reach over to your face to grab it so he can push you down to feel your lips against his own. It's not much tongue or anything, he'll whine in between kisses as he's chanting your name over and over again. You're running your fingers through his hair and graze his chin to calm him down while he's continuing to be a shaky mess, unable to get enough of you, ever.
breath kissing with dainsleif because the emotions he's feeling in that moment won't compare to anything else he has ever felt before. When you inhale, he inhales, matching your breathing as the both of you look into each others eyes, locking eyes while he's fucking you deep and slow. In combination with hands-holding and lingering gazes, all of that makes the kiss so much more electric when it actually happens.
bite kisses with xiao because sometimes he gets too caught up in the heat of the moment, completely forgetting that you're not unbreakable. He won't go overboard though, since he would never hurt you in any way. Expect a lot of tugging and sucking against your lower lip, biting down too but never too hard. Obviously uses his teeth more than his tongue because he's still not quite used to it yet.
licking your lips with childe because he's all about using his tongue a lot, there isn't anything that arouses him more than a kiss that's wet and filled with sexual tension. So fucking erotic in his eyes. Before he'd deepen the kiss, he'll lick over your lower lip sensually, slightly biting down so you'll open up your mouth, and once you do he's already pushing his tongue inside of you. He's careful with his teeth but will use his saliva and spit in your mouth but only if you're into it.
forehead kisses with zhongli while he's holding your hands above your head, sloppily fucking into your hole that's dripping wet, your juices coating his heavy balls that would smack against you while whining out his name to tell him it's too much. Once he's heard you whine like that he'll move down to your face, giving your forehead a quick peck and finishing it off with whispering against your abused lips that you can handle it.
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