Hello! Could i ask for yan kazuha and venti with a reader who came from another world like the traveler? Gn pls :)
summary. venti and kazuha with an otherworldly darling
warnings. manipulation, unhealthy relationships, general yandere themes
venti ;
like the traveler, i think you ended up somewhere in mondstat, but unfortunately for you, it was venti who found you instead of amber.
from the very moment he saw you picking sunsettia in whispering woods, he was absolutely mesmerised. venti's a creep and a disgusting pervert, he can't help but stare when he finds someone attractive. and you, goodness, you just looked so delectable. your shirt lifted when you lifted your hand above you, exposing a bit of your tummy for him to view as he pleased. within just a few seconds, he was already hard, and his thoughts ran rampant.
he hid in one of the trees just a few yards away, watching intently as you stood on your tiptoes trying to reach a sunsettia that was too far up. he found it amusing the way you huffed, nearly falling over after attempting to jump up and grab it. you were adamant about getting that fruit, and venti saw it as the perfect opportunity to get acquainted.
he approached you with a friendly smile on his face, asking if you needed any help — to which you frantically said yes. he used his anemo powers to push himself off the ground and into the air, just high enough to grab the sunsettia you so desired. you were in complete awe when he landed and handed you the fruit. it nearly fell out of your hands when you jumped in his face asking how he did that.
that's how he found out you weren't from this world, and he took complete advantage of that fact. he told you a lot of lies, and you obliviously ate them all up without a second thought 'cause you trusted him fully. even if you were a bit hesitant about some things, there really wasn't anything you could do about it 'cause you knew absolutely nothing about the world of teyvat.
kazuha ;
kazuha saved your life, that's how the two of you met. during his travels in liyue he saw you surrounded by a pack of hilichurls, holding a mere stick as your only defense. kazuha's a gentleman, he couldn't just leave some helpless person to die when there was a possibility he could save them — so he did.
you thanked him profusely, telling him that you'll forever be indebted to him. he smiled politely and told you what he did was nothing, that anyone would do it. he was intrigued though. why would someone with little fighting prowess be so far out from liyue harbor where countless dangers lurked?
he kept his curiosity to himself, instead offering to stay with you in case you were attacked again. it wasn't till later when you learned he was okay to trust that he found out you were from another world. you told him you were all alone and scared cause you didn't know where you were or how you got here, but he comforted you.
you two got quite acquainted on your travels together. he loved hearing you talk about where you came from, but whenever you mentioned going back, he felt a twinge in his stomach that made him want to throw up.
he didn't want you to go back. you couldn't just leave him when he was there for you, protecting you from all the dangers of teyvat when you were all alone and helpless. it just wasn't fair, how could you even think about abandoning him like that? he got moody and withdrawn any time you said you wanted to go back, and poor, clueless you had no idea what was wrong with him.
he'll use manipulation to keep you with him — reminding you that you owe him your life for saving you. it makes you feel so guilty. but kazuha would do absolutely anything to keep you with him, even if that meant hurting you a little bit in the process.
+ f!reader. he calls you angel. cum, cum, cum. xiao overstimms himself. dacryphilia. unprotected. praises. not proofread. xiao got me in a chokehold this 2.7 so have this lil drabble of the best boy <3 minors do not interact.
—
continuously rutting into you has left xiao’s cock raw and sensitive. his slit starts to twitch, wet with his precum and your arousal. yet, he can’t stop the pump of his hips, he can’t sever the connection between you. not when you look so pretty under him, clinging onto his neck to kiss his lips.
“xiao…” you gasp, head bleary from his sloppy thrusts. you can feel his cock stretching your velvet walls as if preparing your womb for his release. “xiao…”
“i’m here,” xiao grunts, gritting his teeth before pressing his lips to your cheek, gasping achingly as your pussy clutch around him again. “right here, angel. ‘s alright, i got you.”
“xiao… you feel so good,” you sob, blurry eyes and all. “feel so good…”
his pumping has turned more erratic, an automatic switch as he hears your praise. xiao embraces you, stuttering hips pistoling his cock through your cunt greedily. he captures your lips, drools slipping out your mouth as he kisses you.
“ah, fuck,” xiao pants— his own eyes almost rolling back to his skull, his balls getting heavy with his shaft sporadically pulsing. “‘m so close, angel.”
“you’re so pretty, xiao…” you murmur, lost in the feeling. you smile at him, pulling him closer to you. and that’s when he breaks.
“hah— so are you, angel,” he huffs out, “fuck, fuck—” his stomach clenches as his heart aches, squirting a thick amount of cum right into your fluttering cunt— and yet it isn’t enough. xiao grabs your waist, still pumping his cock into your hole while he continuously creams your pussy and folds all while deliriously sobbing out your name.
—
by 8kh. + masterlist.
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.”
Summary: Aemond protects those he cares about ruthlessly. You are no exception. So he will have the truth, or someone’s head. Maybe both.
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader
Warnings: NSFW. Overprotective Aemond. Edging. Orgasm denial. Oral sex. Breeding kink (implied)
Word count: 2k
“Do not tell Prince Ameond.”
“Do not worry, my lady. My lips are sealed,” Grand Maester Mellos bowed lightly, gathering his ointments and bandages.
“Do not tell Prince Aemond what?”
By the door frame stood Prince Aemond Targaryen, arms crossed, and a dangerously calm look on his face.
Maester Mellos knew better, and Aemond’s seemingly composed demeanor was not to be trifled with.
The old man froze in place, glaring at the young prince as if he’d suddenly grown a third arm.
Clearing his throat, he greeted with a bow. “Prince Aemond… welcome back.”
He turned his eye to you. “I’m waiting.”
You huffed in annoyance, knowing far too well that he would turn something trivial into an unnecessary ordeal.
Because as far as Aemond Targaryen was concerned, your safety was paramount, and he would not have it any other way.
“Thank you, Maester Mellos,” you smiled warmly, trying to ease his nerves.
He merely hurried to make his way out, but Aemond barred the door, eyeing the man in front of him with a deadly stare.
“Aemond,” you called out, shifting to sit on your bed.
The Targaryen prince clicked his tongue, eventually stepping to the side. “Hmm.”
The poor old man was now visibly shaking, and nearly made a run for it once the pathway was made clear.
“That was uncalled for,” you half-scolded.
The door shut behind him, and he came to take a sit by your side, his face twisted into a serious expression. “What do you not want me to know, then.”
But before you could reply, his eye landed on your hands and you could swear you saw a hint of rage crossing his face.
“Who did this to you?” Poison coated his low voice, sending shivers across your spine.
He took your bruised hands in his, closely inspecting the damage to your knuckles.
It looked far worse than it felt. “I was sparring with Ser Criston. Just for fun,” you revealed, meeting his eye. “It was nothing much. This will heal soon.”
“He did this to you?” he sounded uncharacteristically… calm.
“No.”
Aemond’s tender fingers wrapped around your wrists, anger slipping through the cracks. “Then who?”
It would be much easier to give into the pressure, but you knew fully well that if you were to reveal who had been on the receiving hand of your fist, he’d simply storm out, not caring that the short amount of time you had to spend with with would be ruined.
“Let's forget about this for tonight,” you said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I've missed you so much.”
Aemond rose to his feet, arching an eyebrow. “Should I go ask Maester Mellos, then? I’m sure he’d be much willing to talk.”
Rolling your eyes, you held him in place by tugging at his leather coat.
“Leave the poor man alone and fuck me instead.”
You pulled him towards you by his pants, slightly wincing as pain shot through your bruised hand.
“Tell me who it was.”
Deciding to ignore him, you parted you legs to accommodate him, resting your chin on his stomach. “Prince Aemond… I need you,” you pouted.
The hold you had on the young prince was such that had Queen Alicent fear that it might break her beloved son.
And nothing pleased you more than knowing you could bend him to your will with just the right amount of persuasion.
It didn't take long before he started panting lightly as you began caressing his crotch through the fabric, enjoying your touch and how you so skillfully and rapidly had his cock harden.
His eye fluttered shut, and he removed each layer of clothing from his body, until he got to his pants.
“Do not stare at me like that. I might lose it,” he groaned, bringing his thumb to caress your lips.
Your walls reflexively clenched around nothing, and you felt your clit swell in anticipation.
His toned torso gleamed of a faint mix of warm colours that emanated from the candles spread around you, and you couldn’t help to place the softest kiss on the think hair of silver that spread below his navel.
Aemond undid his pants to ease the tension on his cock before tossing the garment aside.
“Will you not tell me?” he asked, slowly dropping to his knees as your eyes were fixed on his thick and leaking cock.
With both hands on each thigh, he further spread you apart, dragging the fabric of your chemise up your legs, revealing your most intimate parts to his hungry gaze.
You knew what came next, and readied yourself by leaning back, supporting your weight with your arms.
Aemond pressed soft kisses up your inner thigh until he reached your folds.
He was staring intensely at you. “Last chance to tell me, my lady.”
You could feel his breath on you. “What does that mean…”
“Who hurt you?”
Aegon had been the one to meet your fist after he decided it would be smart to badmouth his brother in front of you. Not even Ser Criston Cole moved to defend the future king. He had deserved it.
But the last thing on your mind was Aegon and his ridiculous antics.
Aemond did not answer your question, as he pressed a kiss to your folds.
“How is it so swollen already?” he growled, parting your folds to reveal your throbbing clit. “Do you like me on my knees that much?”
He had such a way with words that you reckoned you might be pushed over the edge from the sound of his voice and lewd words.
You bucked your hips into him as you felt his tongue prodding at your entrance for a brief moment before he dragged it to lick your clit.
The sight of having the young prince hungrily eating you was enough to ignite the coil in your lower abdomen.
His tongue slipped inside you, as his nose was pressed against the sensitive bud, teasing it with each slurp.
“Right there… Gods…” you threw your head back in sheer pleasure.
The pressure on your lower half was such that you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
“Aemond…”
Just as you we were about to plunge into blinding bliss, you felt him draw away from you. The immediate loss of touch earning a strangled cry from you, your clit demanding attention again.
At first, you thought it was merely his intent do shift positions, so he could be buried deep within you and having your walls contract around him from your release.
However, by the time he was on top of you, dragging the thing underside of his cock along your folds, yet refusing to enter you, that’s when you realised something was off.
“Please… please…” you nearly yelled, wrapping your legs around his waist to increase the friction.
But Aemond paid no mind to your pleas, and kept rolling his hips while sucking gently on your neck.
The moment he heard your gasps getting louder and breathier, he halted, kissing away the tears that had started to flow from the overstimulation.
He lifted his hips as to avoid his cock from touching you at all, and you felt the urge to smack him.
“What are you doing,” you cried out, vision blurry and chest heaving rapidly.
He pressed his lips to your cheek in such adoration, that your heart skipped a beat.
“Do not underestimate my feelings for you,” whispered in a warning tone. “I would start a war for you.”
Others might brush that aside as an overstatement, but Aemond Targaryen did not utter empty threats.
That revelation sent you pushing your hips to his, urging him to have his cock on you once more.
Suddenly, his lips twisted into a mischievous smile, as he suddenly pinned your arms above your face.
You eyes widened in utter shock. “Aemond….”
“It seems we are in a bit of a predicament, lady wife,” he purred, lips nearly touching yours. “You seek release, but I shall not give it to you until you tell me who hurt you.”
At this, you tried to wriggle away from his grip. “Oh… fuck you!”
“I want that, too,” he said teasingly. “But first, you need to tell me a name.”
He chuckled at the evident agony in your eyes stilling your hips with other hand.
“And you will not be able to have your release by yourself without your hands,” he said, giving your wrists a squeeze. “Your choice.”
Your clit throbbed desperately in between your folds, craving his touch, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek at the sight of his cock drippings strings of precum onto your abdomen.
He was just as desperate to have you, and you were perplexed that he had such self control.
Seeing that you refused to cooperate, he lowered himself into you, his cock pressed down on your clit as your folds enveloped it.
“Gods… just move…” you growled in despair, tugging at your hands in an attempt to break free from his grip.
Surprisingly, he did as you asked, rolling his hips slowly. You tried to mimic the motion just so you could get to your point of no return.
But Aemond knew your body too well. He knew exactly what made you tick, and how your body would respond.
He stopped moving at once, heaving a frantic wail from you as your release got put on hold once more.
“Aegon! I threw a punch at Aegon,” you blurted out in between sobs as your sensitive clit throbbed against his cock. “He was uttering nonsense about you and—”
“You punched my brother?”
You opened your eyes to see surprised on his face, with a hint of amusement. He then released the grip on your wrists and brought one of your hands closer to his face, rubbing your sore knuckles with his thumb.
“That’s my girl,” he laughed, planting a kiss on each knuckle. “You should have told me right away.”
You rolled your eyes. “And you would have gone after him. I want you here… with—”
He immediately cut you off with a burning kiss, and just as quickly, he angled his hips to bury himself inside you.
The overstimulation and denied releases had left your body so sensitive that it was as if everything stung and you had to bite your lip hard to muffle your cries.
He ground mercilessly into you, breaking the kiss and removing the eyepatch.
“Look at me.”
You were met with the sapphire in place of his left eye, and knew that he was close the moment his arms faltered, and he nearly collapsed on top of you, speeding up and gripping your hips as he pumped in a final broken rhythm.
Taking your face in your hands, you had your lips caress the long scar, knowing fully well he had grown used to you showing him how much you adore every single inch of him.
“So tight…” he groaned.
You then watched in marvel as his mouth fell open in a quick hiss as he stilled inside you, filling you to the brim.
Feeling his cock twitching inside you violently as he spilled his cum inside, drove you over the edge until your vision blurred in waves of colours, tearing the room with a sharp cry of pleasure.
Aemond managed to regain some composure as he lifted your lower half and placed a pillow underneath your backside.
“Stay like this for a while,” he said, slowly sliding out of you.
Your breathing came out in erratic pants and you felt him gently pushing inside some of the cum that had spilled with his fingers.
At this pace, it would not be long before your belly would start to swell with his child.
He caressed your face with his hand, as he brought his lips to press a loving kiss to your sweaty forehead.
“Avy jorrāelan.”
Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could return the gesture, Aemond slid off the bed, rapidly getting dressed.
“Where are you going?” you asked, shifting to your side, a gush of cum spilling from you.
“On my way to behead my dear brother.”
You groaned in exasperation. “Aemond!”
tbh kuni being a tittie lover is so true and i stand by that
“Do you not understand that you have ascended in the top stratum of mortals with my offer?” The emphasis tacked on his words was hard to miss, along with the clear frustration etched across his face that seemed to deepen together with your incredulity.
“Do you know what I think? I think you need to sleep.” You tugged and spread the blanket over your legs, inching just close enough to the bonfire to keep you warm throughout the night.
In disapproval or disbelief, he groaned loudly and treaded heavily in front of you. “And how do I sleep?” He sneered on your face. “How do I sleep in this condition? Pray tell.”
You closed your eyes, humming to the tune of the sleep beckoning you closer. “Well, first and foremost, you need to shut your mouth and lay down.”
“Mortals surely are the daftest creatures that have graced Teyvat. They cannot realize a blessing when they see one. How absurd,” he droned on. His mumbling and murmuring went on for minutes, deliberately causing disturbance to a rather pleasant night under the clear starry sky.
Your nose flared in impatience that you bolted upright, grateful that the blanket did not fly to the nearest fire, before facing him. “And how is refusing you to touch my breast considered daft?”
Immediately up for the challenge, he crossed his arms over his chest and stared you down. “Ha! You do not understand the weight of your words, do you? You should’ve considered yourself fortunate.”
“I have allowed you ten nights to touch my breasts while you sleep because you said it was cold. And despite seeing no correlation between the weather and your hand on my chest, I have let you in your freedom.” You were face to face with him. None of you seemed aware of the mere inch that’s separating your faces. “Tell me, what makes you so addicted to it?”
“They are soft! And supple! And I like how they feel on my hand!” He was out of breath when he finished.
So were you, with the force of his confession. It was you who broke the eye contact first by stomping back to your place.
“You can say I have grown accustomed to them,” he continued. “Perhaps one day I shall see them for myself—”
“Stop talking,” you deadpanned before breathing deeply. At last, you looked at his direction. “C… come here.”
Against the fire, you would’ve thought that his eyes brightened up a fraction. But you knew better than anyone else how he liked to keep his emotions at bay no matter the circumstances.
“You can touch them,” you murmured. “But I have rules.”
“Madness!” he was quick to retort. “You dare make rules?”
“Alright, then, good night.” You pulled the blankets over you again and prepared to lie down.
He sighed, long and ingested with patience. “Alright, alright. I will hear them: your rules.”
You raised one finger. “One, you should not speak anymore. Two, you shall not squeeze—” He gave you a stupefied look. “I’m serious. I cannot sleep when you do that. And those are my rules. How about that?”
“Shall not squeeze? You are merciless. Even I wouldn’t have thought of such cruelty.”
“Stop the nonsensical drama and lie down. Now. We have a long way ahead of us tomorrow and we shall get all the rest we can.” You tapped the space beside you, firm and solid on your words.
Surprisingly, he did not raise any more objections about the set-up. He positioned himself beside you, his hand crawling inside your shirt and finding the treasure there. Like a warm kerchief, his dainty hand cup your breast. It was only a matter of time after that before you heard him softly snoring. Again, for the 11th day, it would seem as though you were to sleep with burning cheeks and swirling stomach.
Tighnari -> breeding
content: nsfw, breeding kink, praise, mentions of pregnancy and creampies, Tighnari has a knot | reblogs & comments appreciated!
~0,7k words | kinktober masterlist
Tighnari was a gentle lover.
He was attentive and kind, always aware of what exactly you needed when you needed it; the pace with which he fucked you with was usually slow and deep. Sensual.
He liked to press his lips just below your jaw whenever he pushed into you, pressing loving kisses to your skin until he had bottomed out, and he made sure to make you cum at least once before he took you properly.
He had each of your preferences memorised perfectly; he knew whether you preferred him to lick or suck at your clit, whether you enjoyed having your nipples played with or not, and he never failed to make you absolutely lose your mind in pleasure, all your muscles turning to jelly.
Tighnari was a gentle lover, until he suddenly wasn't.
Unaware, dare you say naïve, as you were, you hadn't known about ruts, though they appeared to be quite a big deal if the way Tighnari was currently pounding into you was anything to go by.
His narrow hips slapped against your own, his nails were digging into the soft skin of your waist and you cried out sharply at a particularly hard thrust.
Your back arched off the bed, your eyes fluttered closed, and, God, you were almost sure that the head of Tighnari's dick was hitting against your cervix with how deep he was, with how full you felt.
“So good for me, aren't you?” His voice was raspy, lower than usual, and it sent a shiver up your spine. “God, you feel fucking perfect around me, so hot and tight. You're such a good girl.”
The praise earned him a needy moan from you, the noise high-pitched, and you couldn't help but clench around him. The sudden tightness caused both of you to groan.
“You're so pretty like this.” Tighnari's breath was warm against your neck; suddenly, he reached down to feather his thumb over your clit, and you whined, the noise breathy. “Gorgeous, really. And you'll be even more stunning after I've filled you up.”
Without even meaning to, you tightened around him, wet walls pulsing as heat rose to your cheeks because of words. This really wasn't something you had ever imagined but, suddenly, you found yourself unable to think of anything but him filling you, getting you pregnant.
Tighnari's chuckle had a mocking tone to it. “Oh? Seems you liked that, didn't you? Is that what you want, love?” A grunt as he pushed into you again. “For me to fill you up until you're dripping with my cum? For me to breed you?”
You whined in response, the noise utterly needy. Sweat dripped down your neck, arousal coiled heavily in your abdomen, and everything felt so damn hot — your clit was throbbing, your lips open as more high-pitched sounds fell from them. “Please—”
“So you do?” Tighnari huffed out a laugh, though his grip on your hips tightened. His next thrust had you all but keening; your sight blurred when, suddenly, your orgasm crashed over you without a warning. The constant stimulation of your clit was overwhelming. “That's cute, darling. I'll just do that then.”
Pain and pleasure mashed together into one confusing emotion as Tighnari kept fucking you through your orgasm, his pace unrelenting; you whimpered pathetically as your wet walls pulsed around his cock, all but sucking him in despite the dull ache in your abdomen.
“Please”, you eventually choked out, though forming coherent words seemed like a herculean task right now, “Please, Tighnari, fuck—, want you to knock me up, please.”
You moaned as your words made his dick twitch inside of you, and your thighs trembled when liquid warmth filled you up moments later, his dick growing in width and, oh—, the sensation of your cunt being stretched even wider was overwhelming, indescribable, and tears welled up in your eyes before you knew it.
“Ah. I forgot to tell you about the knot, didn't I?” Tighnari's smirk was cheeky, his ears twitching. You merely whimpered in response. “Just be glad for the brief break you're getting. Once it goes down, I'll take you again and again.”
Your cheeks seemed to grow impossibly more hot as he leaned down, green eyes sparkling with mirth. “After all, we want to make sure it really takes, right? We'll have to go for quite some more rounds if you really want to end up pregnant. But don't you worry, love. I'll breed you properly.”
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Scenario: Sees another person flirting with you
Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Albedo, Childe, Zhongli, fem!reader
Diluc
Would watch from afar. Trusts you not to do anything stupid.
Starts tapping his foot when the guy doesn’t leave you alone.
People next to him or passing by him are wondering if the temperature rise is from his pyro vision or just the pissed off vibes emanating from him
Finally uncrosses his arms when he sees you walking away
Small smile when he sees you waving and approaching him
Smile disappears when other guy grabs your wrist
He did not just fucking do that
Appears next to your side in a split second, giant sword in his hand. Fire in his eyes.
Keep reading
— meant to be yours.
pairing: yandere!kazuha / fem!reader
genre: smut
wordcount: 2.5k (this was supposed to be short smh)
warnings: yandere, noncon, manipulation, misogyny (not a lot but it’s there), somnopholia, physical abuse, choking (not in a kinky way), non consensual drugging, mind break, dacryphilia, dumbification, creampie, oral (receiving), vaginal fingering
summary: when you met kazuha you’re immediately enamored by him. He listens, he cares, brings you gifts, he was perfect. At least that was what you thought.
Keep reading
Synopsis: [Commissioned Piece]
Your family threw you out into the world, helpless and hungry. It was only because of Scaramouche that you didn’t die on the streets. And now he has you, holed up in forced opulence, insistent that he’s going to marry you. But what of your family? And yourself? Follow-up to Just a Scrap of Time.
Word Count: 5802
Notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of starvation/neglect, forced marriage
You needed time to settle in. That’s what he told you. Or rather, what he told the servant woman who’d been preening over you for the good part of an hour. She relayed the advice so kindly, so nonchalantly, that you would have taken it to heart if you were here under different circumstances.
“Settling in” was for nervous soon-to-be brides who had arrived from home on carefully carried litters, women who needed time to adjust to their new surroundings and fortunes; the idea was not for you, a kidnapped villager of no repute, with guards posted at the door lest you try to escape again. You were escorted everywhere, even just a few doors down to his room, and watched constantly–by him, by the guards, and by the servant woman who barely left your side.
She spoke little to you, and her nervous airs kept you on edge. She took care of all your daily necessities, despite the protests you’d given that you could care for yourself, that you didn’t need to be dressed, her unfamiliar fingers always grazing your skin.
Though, when Scaramouche had disposed of all the clothes you packed from home, the simple things you’d been accustomed to wearing all your life, you quickly realized that being dressed by someone else truly was a necessity. The robes he’d given you as replacements were fine, layers of patterned fabrics that made you feel like some priceless doll. Fit to sit on the shelf of the governor’s mansion.
Is that how Scaramouche saw you? As a doll on his shelf?
Keep reading
𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗜𝗥 𝗙𝗔𝗩𝗢𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗘 𝗦𝗘𝗫 𝗣𝗢𝗦𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 !
˖˚˳⊹ their favorite sex position feat ayato : itto : kaeya : xiao : diluc : zhongli : childe : scaramouche : dainsleif x fem! reader
˖˚˳⊹ warnings: nsfw
standing up with ayato while he fucks you against a mirror, but you have to understand him! he's always so busy, even he needs some release every now and then. Good for him you're always by his side, completely unraveling against his touch whenever he wanted you to. "Open up a bit more, c'mon now." he whispered against your ear, gazing up at the mirror as he watched your facial expression knock to the other side, hiding your embarrassment that was written all over your cheeks. Though you obliged to his request, spreading your legs further as he seemed to approve, his voice low, barely a whisper as he continued to hum into your ear. Your whines set fire to his groin as the wave of pleasure hit your cunt so dearly, clamping down on his heavy cock which was dragging violently against your abused walls.
against the wall with itto because he's always searching for a new opportunity to show you just how strong he truly is, his shirt sweaty and stretched tightly over his body while his biceps flexed, the roped muscles of his forearms rippled while he was thrusting upwards your sloppy cunt. "you're mine mine mine." he'll chant groaning in between thrusts, feeling how you grabbed onto his upper arms with your small hands, nails digging and leaving crescent shaped marks all over it while you hid your face in the nook of his neck. Your eyes shutting tight at the stretch his cock would inflict on you while it dragged against your velvety walls heavenly, speed higher at every moan bubbling over your lips, biting down on the tender skin as he fucked you harder until white blurred your own vision completely, making you see stars.
69 with kaeya because even though you‘re on top of him, he‘s still controlling every part of your body. If you even dare to tease him a little bit, he‘ll make sure to properly punish you afterwards. Don‘t think he‘ll ever beg, it‘s beneath him and not his style, though when you still decide to toy with his heavy balls, touching his angry cock with light brushes, he‘s going to lose it. "Fuck, just- do it already." he snarls at you, combined with a whine that sounded unreal, arching his back when you drop it past your lips, not stopping until you feel it bob against your throat. "Please." his voice, barely hearable but you could feel the desperation in it. The whining that came out of his mouth was making you see white. A small chuckle escaped you as the vibration of it went all over his gut. For a second kaeya doesn‘t move, exhaling trough his teeth when he decided to play the game better than you, dipping his face into your sobbing cunt, flicking his tongue over your puffy clit because he craves the dominance you tried to take off of him a second ago.
straddling with xiao because it‘s exactly how he wants it, you‘re so close with your arms around his head while he can suck on your nipples without a care in the world. Not to mention he can guide you up and down his cock, controlling the pace as he pleases. He‘ll put the mounds of flesh into his mouth, licking and lapping all around your bud while handling the other tit sensually. He‘s so in love with your boobs, it’s not even licking anymore, he’s slurping to his hearts content, rolling his tongue around the bud like a madman while you‘re riding him, chasing your climax like it‘s the only thing that mattered in this world. And once you reach over to bring your hands into his hair, tugging on his scalp, hard, xiao‘ll completely lose it. He’ll groan out through clenched teeth, letting go of your tit with a lewd pop as he dropped his hands into the flesh of your hips, slamming you back hard onto his cock until you're whining for release.
spooning with diluc in the morning is probably your favorite way of starting the day. He'd watch your body sleep peacefully next to him, small breathing and fine drawn twitches as you continued to slumber deeply. Though once you can feel him press himself against your ass, eyes fluttering open and whining out his name all tiredly, diluc certainly got more than a little hard by those tiny gestures that you'd make whenever he would wake you up, and archons how much he hated himself right now. The last thing he would want is to wake you from your sleep but he just had to have you right now, he couldn't go another minute without burying himself deep inside your cunt, it was just painful around his groin. He'll continue to rut against your clothed pussy before hiking his fingers around your waistband, slowly pulling down your underwear as you reached over to stroke him lazily. He helped you line himself up with your hole, feeling your cunt sucking him in the second he pushed himself into you as you laid back to rest your head against his shoulder. <3
mating press with zhongli because he loves breeding you <3. He will literally lose all his self composure and senses whenever he thinks about it. It's like turning to a complete different being whenever you let him paint your walls with white spurts of cum. And zhongli will never keep his eyes away from your sobbing cunt, not when his juices are spilling from your hole, pussy fluttering around nothing while he continued to fuck the cum right back into you. Normally he'd always have to go slow when sliding into your cunt, but because of you being filled with his seed to the brim, sinking inside of you is easily done without any problems. "you're so obedient." he'll coo, his chest rising and falling once he thinks about a future with you, swollen belly and it's all because of his seed. Spreading you open even more to see his cum flow from your hole around his cock and connecting the both of you even after he pulled out, will certainly drive him completely over the edge.
having you in a chokehold with childe because he doesn‘t really care how he‘s fucking you, all he cares about is how good his hand looks while choking you hard, feeling the way you desperately hiccup whenever he ruts into you. The sharp tone in his voice clinging through his teeth could tell you just how fucking needy he was for you already. And those whines you'd try to get out while he's choking you is music to his ears, you're so adorable in his eyes. He's impatient, pulling you closer to his body before he went to place one of his hands back on your neck, teasingly squeezing against your flesh as you rolled your eyes back in ecstasy. The heat in between your legs was almost unbearable to you, radiating through your body until you felt it in your bones, "archons, you're so sexy." he'll blurt out while sensually swiping his thumb over your abused lips, "come on now, don't give up on me yet, 'kay?"
doggy style with scaramouche because he'll always find a way to degrade you somehow, he needs to be in control and wouldn't want to give it away at any time, basically holding onto every single straw of control he could get. His thoughts haunted him for hundreds of years now, tainted with images and blood he wished he could shake off, though impossible in doing so. The only release he could get, the only way of him running away from his thoughts was whenever he was with you. He wouldn't be nice though, scaramouche doesn't know how that worked or how he should behave normally. Pushing you harder against the mattress while he pumps himself inside of you, bodies melting and sticking together from all the liquids pouring out of you but archons, you were so vulnerable in front of him. Marks visible to his possessive eyes while he continued to thrust sloppily into your messy hole while kneading the mounds of flesh on your ass.
reverse cowgirl with dainsleif because it‘s all in front of him, really. Your ass dropping down his cock and soaking his legs with your slick, he was so unbelievably sensitive and throbbing against your walls. "fuck- 'm gonna cum." he uttered while grabbing the flesh of your ass, trying to slow you down somehow but you wanted to make dainsleif cum so badly, he was always so good to you! the faster you‘d go, the more he would clench his teeth together just to hold out a little longer, arching his back only to gulp out harshly, adams apple throbbing against his throat in response. Though once he starts to wince and whine that he‘s going to release any given moment, you can‘t help it but clench around him even more, rolling your hips harder and those lewd noises, archons, skin slapping and dainsleif crying out screaming with his newly found aching voice which sounded so fucking erotic in your ear.
(heizou : kazuha : albedo version)
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Living for the doll au. Do you think having a Diluc and a Kayea doll at the same time would cause problems?
tw - possessive behavior, isolation, and slight codependency.
well... they might be a little hostile, at first. just for the sake of holding up appearances, i mean.
it's sorta difficult to say, just because Kaeya models are so rare and Diluc is known to be standoffish to other androids at best, openly hostile at worst. unlike some combinations (*cough* Ayato and Yae *cough*), they probably aren't going to tear each other apart, but they might bicker, make a few snide comments about a pre-programmed backstory neither seems inclined to let you in on, compete to see who can make you cum faster or moan louder whenever you find yourself pinned between them. Kaeya, especially, likes to make a show of being affectionate with you, of kissing you until you're panting into his mouth and all Diluc can do is glare, but Diluc has a petty side too - prone to bending you over as soon as you send Kaeya out for something and letting his artificial-rival come back to the sight of you cumming on his cock, even if he always says it's just convenient timing. They're both awful, willing to argue about anything from what they're going to make for dinner to who actually broke the coffee-maker, but they're not out for blood, and you can there's some kind of fondness there, if only by the way they seem to pout whenever one of them's powered down when the other isn't. they're a good pair, even if they don't want to admit it.
and, of course, they do agree on some topics, even if they do it behind your back. they agree that humans are delicate, easily bruised and quickly broken, and they're both aware that they don't like that you're gone all day, that you're too tired to pay any attention to them when you come back. they both know that they can do little things to keep you nearby, even if their safeguards limit them to hiding your keys and shoving their fingers in your mouth whenever you try to say you don't have time to play with them, and they both know that it'd be very, very bad if you ever lost interest in them, if you ever moved onto another pair of androids. Diluc tries to be more self-righteous about it, to justify his paranoia with platitudes about safety and servitude, but Kaeya's always been more honest with himself, even if there is a certain about of over-explaining he has to do to get about his programming. they can both agree they want you nearby, though, that they want to keep you close.
they can both agree that they'd rather keep you to themselves, even if they're willing to cooperate to do it.