V i g i l
A/N: Here is the Kazuha angst, sweeties :')) I wrote this with my prepared angsty playlist hehe- I.. well, my heart cracked..
✤ She/her
Words: 3.9k
"Text in this format means dialogue in flashback!"
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
The memory of peering into the crib with excited blabbers remains fresh, untarnished with the passing of time.
It feels like it’s just yesterday when your mother reached for the wailing baby laying inside to hand him in your caring touch.
“This is your little brother, [Name].” you squealed when the boy clung unto your finger, “His name is Kazuha. Be a good sister for him, understand?”
“Yes!”
Ah, that did feel as if it was just yesterday.
“Nee-chan!”
Dropping the basket of laundry, you frantically looked around.
“Nee-chan!”
“Kazuha-!?”
He was sprinting, arms flailing as tears spilled past his eyes and panicked exclaims left his lips. His friend was chasing him from behind, laughing as he waved an undercooked fish—your brother’s worst nightmare.
Comedic but understandable.
“Tomo’s making me eat it!” your younger brother mumbled behind you, pointing accusingly towards his friend who sheepishly spluttered excuses at your stern gaze.
Taking the skewered fish in Tomo’s hands, you hummed, patting his and Kazuha’s heads.
“How about I cook something for the both of you, instead? How’s that sound?”
“Yes, please! Nee-chan’s cooking is the best!”
You can never get tired of cooking for the two of them, even if your sibling eventually asked to be taught, you find yourself still taking over cooking duty. Lovingly whipping up dishes is your forte.
It stuck around when the household eventually lost the attending servants following the fall of the Kaedehara clan. It even stuck through the grim times of your parents’ passing.
Kazuha had went through so much at a young age, changed little by little—and you aren’t oblivious to it. With his growth, you are a witness to his budding shell of maturity.
Single years fold into a decade and all of a sudden, the mirthful silverette who doesn’t last a day without calling you ‘big sister’ has grown up.
Far too quickly, to be honest, but who are you to hold him back?
“You don’t call me ‘nee-san’ nowadays,” you laugh jokingly, “My, you’ve grown so much, Kazu!”
He stares at the plates of food you set on the dining table, his sigh small and feeble as you continue gushing. Albeit he has a smile on his face, it appears tight. Forced.
But you turn a blind eye to that—you’ve always been doing it.
Now, however, it seems that your brother has grown tired of humoring you. It has been going on for too long.
“I’m not some child anymore..” his monotonous voice is so unlike him—it’s as if he no longer is the person you grew up with.
Having him address it bluntly prompts you to pause, the only sound being the sizzling of unagi meat, frying to perfection. The richness of its color, however, dulls when you process what your sibling has mentioned.
As if its vividness is an illusion meant to shield you from present-day reality.
Still, you shake it away, keeping the smile on your face as you set the fried meat on a new plate, turning to put it down on the table beside the other dishes.
“Oh, Ka-“ you stop, seeing the look in his eyes.
The way his carmine optics bore against your [c]s is foreign.
It’s scary.
It’s different. It’s new.
You sit down in front of him, trying not to show how restless you’ve become. Such an attempt is futile, of course, since you’re in front of the person you’ve been with for years.
“Kazu-“
Thud!
Silence zips your lips when he lays his chopsticks down. It isn’t by any means a slam—but someone like Kazuha doesn’t need to be outright with anything in order to express a negative opinion.
“So please refrain from initiating unnecessary coddling,” he cuts you off with a swivel as he leaves for the door. “I have grown up now, sister. I... need you less.”
What?
A multitude of emotions hit you at once, all coming from his sudden statement that feels like it can tear you apart. But oh—who were you kidding?
You know that this will eventually come.
The very day where he admits that he is capable of being alone. Without you.
The opening of the door causes you to stand from your chair, “Wait!”
He does as you said but doesn’t look back. His hand remains on the handle of the knob, unchanging of his decision to leave.
You tug the black and red scarf from your neck, inching close to the man so you can wrap it around his neck. “It’s cold outside.. won’t you at least eat something?”
It takes him a moment to respond—but his decision does not change.
He detangles the fabric on his neck and, without looking you in the eye, sets it in your hand, rejecting your offer.
“Later.”
And he’s gone.
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
Nothing changed much after he left with that declaration.
Often times he still returns in the dead of night, a smile on his face. It will only ever droop when you come in the room greeting him a lovely evening, and he will sigh.
“I told you not to wait up for me.”
He will depart for his room before he can hear your explanation.
It leaves you hanging, hollow with bitter hope and refusal to believe that you both have reached that time in life where he doesn’t need you as much.
Each time he turns his back, you are filled to the brim with sorrow you didn’t know you’re capable of holding.
Retreating to the upper floor of your home, you will stay at the balcony sighing your concerns away to the stars. To the place where you believe your parents are staying, listening to your bouts of frustration and worry.
“Was I a good sibling for him, mother? Father?” you’ll sometimes mutter as you play with your silver locks, the only thing you share with your sibling other than the forgotten name of a once esteemed clan.
And as you vent all these to the stars, you remain oblivious to the lone figure hiding by the shadows in the adjacent room. His frown is tiny. Sad, but not guilty.
Kazuha will leave once again before he’ll hear his sister’s frustrated cries.
Sometimes, he will chew over it when he is wandering Inazuma—thinking, pondering if perhaps there could’ve been a way to say it without hurting his sibling. But as he contemplates over and over, he finds that there is no easy method to admitting the truth.
His friend Tomo, albeit not being told anything, is naturally cognizant of the things revolving around the silver-haired siblings. The older sister’s presence has been diminishing and he can count her appearances at Kazuha’s side getting less.
He has implied several times to make up with the female even if they had no outright argument, and when faced with a baffled question of ‘why’, Tomo only smiles.
“Because you’re family.”
So simple and yet—when Kazuha thinks of the matter a minute longer, the taste in his tongue becomes acrid.
“What upsets you?” his friend questions as he coos over his white feline, “You’re not the Kazuha who’s always crying for big sister, heh.”
The silverette cannot even find it within him to send a retort. His silence, to others, is a message that typifies a want to be alone—but to Tomo, who has known him since they’re both children, that silence is different.
With a hum, he stretches his limbs, yawning as his cat rolls around the grass.
“You know, [Name] won’t hate you for wanting it,” he starts, “You want to wander, don’t you? But you feel like you’re tied down. You’re grounded—because [Name] is here.”
Kazuha flinches and his friend snickers.
Spot on.
“I’m just going to repeat what I said because I meant it, Kazuha. Tell her the truth. She’s literally the most understanding person I know—it’s not like she’s going to despise you for wanting something.”
“… I’ll think about it.”
Tomo sighs. It’s not what I was hoping for but it’s a start.
Remembering something that moment, Tomo lets out a loud scream that nearly sent his friend toppling in the nearby stream of water. Kazuha looks on with slightly wide eyes as the other man jumps to his feet, violet eyes gleaming.
“Oh, right! I plan to initiate another challenge!”
Another challenge…
Kazuha closes his eyes with a hum, “I do hope you’ll last another. You’ve been faced with the worst of the worst.”
The chuckles that leave his friend’s lips are excited and sort of expectant.
“It’s going to be the ultimate one of all! So if you’ll excuse me~”
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
Perhaps a talk with your brother will do you both good.
You’ve both been acting like strangers walking on eggshells underneath the same house and it is driving you insane. He’s not even looking you in the eye anymore!
Given his quiet personality, confrontation will be difficult, but he’s a cooperative person. Besides, he always hears you out.
There isn’t any reason for him not to when he knows that this will be done only for the betterment of the future.
So, with a nervous disposition but eager heart to settle things right, you lift the basket from its place with plans to head over to the market. It’s an hour or two before dusk, just the perfect time to shop for dinner.
“Mm.. some dry-braised salted fish for tonight sounds lovely.” You muse, remembering how the dish is your brother’s favorite.
Ah, the number of tries he takes to perfect and stylish it into his own can’t be forgotten.
It doesn’t take too long to cook it, but you’ll be making tons of other side dishes and dessert, so it’s best to start early!
You exit the abode, the smile on your face present as ever even when you’re greeted outside by a couple of Shogunate Soldiers. Their features appear sterner, their hold on their naginata rock solid.
“Are you Kaedehara [Name]?”
Hm?
“Yes. Can I help you?”
The soldiers lunge forward, spears falling to a position pointing at you from all possible angles, cutting any means of escape as you furrow your brows. “What’s the meaning of this?”
“Your brother has defied the Decree of the Shogun and was hereby declared a criminal. Going against an Imperial Decree results in punishment inclusive to his immediate family.”
Your basket falls to the ground.
Thud!
Kazuha’s feet create a loud sound following his landing, a breath of panic expelling past as he rushes away.
The warmth in his hand escalates to a scalding degree, burning and searing like the fading power of Electro held within the golden casing.
To think that that was what Tomo meant.. !
He does not feel anger, no, just the burn of desperation and want to hide his friend’s Vision because he doesn’t want it to be taken away—to be placed in that statue that displays the lost ambitions of many others.
He’ll be damned before the Shogunate can take it… !
The criminal evades those at his tail, making swift maneuvers on rooftops and alleys without a second thought. His limbs are answering his every command, be it to duck, to jump—or to even draw his blade.
He is still ways away from the port but getting there won’t prove to be too complex for someone like him. He’s cut down plenty of the samurai in his escape from Tenshukaku,
Tomo…
“You’re family. Tell her.”
Family—
“This is the first one in a long time I’ve heard of it being extended-! To whom again? The clan that has lost its prestige a decade ago, right?” he almost trips in his sprinting, darting to an alleyway so he can further eavesdrop.
Did I hear that correctly?
A relieved sigh escapes when those chasing him run past his hiding spot.
Sucking in his breath, the silverette tightens his grip on the faded Vision of his best friend as he listens in the hushed conversation.
“Be quiet!” someone hisses, “If someone overhears us, what next? Still, I do feel bad.. they lost so much already. I can’t believe they’d drag an innocent person into it, too..”
“Well, there’s nothing we can do. The Shogun issued the penalty to immediate families, right? As far as I know, there are only two Kaedeharas left—”
Kazuha feels his heart stopping. Kaede..hara?
There’s no mistaking it.
But why—?
Why would a punishment meant for him extend to her?
She’s innocent!
Going off-course, he sprints in the direction of his house. The house that he lives in with his sister who takes great care of him—the same sister he’s willing to leave in favor of chasing what he wants in life.
He’s willing to, but he doesn’t.
Because perhaps—perhaps if he stayed and buried his desire, then he will amount to the same greatness she has done for him. But he cannot stand it, either. As patient as he is, as kind and ‘gentle’, [Name] can always see through his face.
He’s always been antsy—always itching to wander and he’s stumped that his sister is well-aware of that fact. Still, she’s always playing the ignorant one, pretending not to care- still coddling him as if he’s little and he’s had… enough of it.
But now that the situation has pinned this misfortune upon them, the ronin realizes that she’s only pretending for his sake, as well.
“Cut that out, I don’t need it. I fear that.. you will only embarrass yourself.”
Wasn’t it him who refused to tell her of his want to roam free in the first place?
“I understand that I am your brother—but there is no need to worry over me all the time. I can look after myself, [Name]. Do worry about something else, instead.”
Wasn’t it him who stuck around, still?
The bitterness in his tongue increases with each leap of his feet. He doesn’t even process the race of his heart as he’s carried through the same path that leads him home. To his family—to his only sister.
Everything seems to pass by slowly, in a blur, like the specks that decorate his vision the more his mind throws stacks and stacks of memories. This is madness.
Complete and utter madness.
He rounds the corner to see the figure of his only sibling, her back turned to him—she cannot see him, but he can see the armed soldiers flanking around her.
His throat tightens and certainly, he wouldn’t have been able to utter a word due to how it feels like his throat has been crushed.
“[Name]!”
Yet, the furious scream that tears past his lips denies all kinds of ‘impossibility’ the instant he sees the female falling to the ground, the sight of red splatter making him draw his blade.
Whoosh!
The summoned wind is opposingly gentle to the brewing storm in someone’s beautiful carmine eyes.
“[Name]-.. !”
That voice.. Kazuha?
Sometimes, the depth of emotion in Kazuha’s eyes is too deep for you to understand. Despite being so silent, he’s so, so expressive with his stares.
That even when he isn’t trembling when he lifts your torso, you know how much he’s quaking from within.
“What are you.. doing here? You have to go,” you cough red when he adjusts you in his arms, the sight of the fallen soldiers reminding you of the situation at hand. “Quick—before they.. catch you.”
He shakes his head,
“I’m taking you with me, I have a boat prepared, come, let’s—”
“Don’t lie to me, Kazuha.”
He pauses, flitting his gaze down to meet yours. You hate how you can’t seem to focus on him, though. Your sight is blurring in and out, only providing small intervals of clarity where you can see the panic in his features.
A sight you didn’t think you’d see on him until now.
“I know you made it for yourself. You’ve been planning to leave home, weren’t you? I’m not..” you’re not oblivious to his wish, “I’m not mad. I was only holding you back, wasn’t I?”
He sucks in a breath.
“I-I-“
What was he supposed to say?
Weakly tapping his arm, you start taking quick breaths—just to take in all the air you can while tolerating the gaping wound from being impaled.
It hurts. You want to scream. It hurts.
But you don’t—because you do not want to appear weak to your brother.
You promised mother and father that you will not cry when faced with problems—he mustn’t see, Kazuha mustn’t see. But at this moment, you just want to break apart. Disbelief is kicking in, you can’t believe this is happening.
When—where did everything go wrong?
“Besides, I’m not of use to you anymore. As if I’ll last the journey to Liyue-“
“Don’t say that!”
You blink owlishly, gasping out in pain when his hand presses against your wound, futilely attempting to hold back the bleeding.
“K-Kazuha?”
Your own hand shakily plants itself atop his own, helping him press—as if his hand isn’t heavy enough to stop the flow—it down. It will hurt, but you can’t say for sure. You’ve already grown numb and your head is swimming.
Still, you focus on him.
Still, you help him apply pressure even if you know—even if he knows—that it’s too late.
“Don’t say that. You’ve..” his voice cracks, “You’ve done so much, [Name], you-“
You took over the clan household when our parents died. You struggled to make ends meet for both of us. And yet.. all I do.. all I do is… !
Kazuha angrily bites on his lip, his hold on his composure beginning to slip as his mind throws in a reel of olden days.
“I’m leaving, [Name]. Please don’t wait up, I may take longer.”
“I’m grateful, but I don’t need that anymore.”
“Stop that, already.”
He dips his head with a muffled cry. All I do is wander and desire for a future where I can roam freely. I haven’t even thought of you..!
“You’ve grown, Kazuha,” he snaps back into this harsh reality when he feels the hand atop his disappear, presently moving to brush his messy locks.
He doesn’t know why all of a sudden his sight is becoming misty, but perhaps—perhaps it is because he remembers when his sister used to brush his hair the same way with a loving smile.
It is the same touch he flees from nowadays.
The same touch now—the same loving smile.
“As much as I hate to admit it, you’re right—you’ve grown so much.. and I’m still clinging onto the past.”
So lively, so beautiful and yet—
“You’re strong now..”
Yet it’s dying.
He presses harder on his sibling’s wound, almost sadistically—as if he’s hoping that it’ll ignite a painful reaction. “[Name], please, let me-“
Because if it hurt—then it means she’s still okay. She’s still responding.
“So capable.. so independent, you are.”
So why—? He almost chokes out a sob. Why are you not reacting to it!?
“Mother and father would be so proud of you. I am sorry if I was lacking in any way.”
“Please, [Name], you can’t do this.” He trembles, the composure he created so, so close to breaking as he gives up on endeavors that are pointless, to begin with. Instead, he tilts his head up, wishing to curse the heavens above.
For everything.
“I’m happy to be your sister, and.. I’m proud of you… Kazu..”
“Wait-“ he stumbles over his words, catching the falling hand of his sibling and registering how deathly pale she has gotten in a matter of seconds. “Wait, please—I-“
As much as he wants to voice out he’s sorry. For many things; for turning his back on her, for being distant when all they have is each other, he’s unable to find his voice when he sees the tears dripping out of his sister’s [c] eyes.
His strong older sister—weeping. It’s the first time he has seen her cry.
Her smile trembles—
“I love you. My nice.. little.. brother.”
—And her [c]s are then hidden forever.
The way she endearingly called him in her dying breath has him freezing, his heart pausing as if he had died along with her. But then the spark of pain welcomes him back to reality—to life.
And then he is leaning over her.
“[Name]..” breathless whispers escalate into panicked murmurs. “[Name]?”
His heart is pounding in his chest as he tries to shake her awake, like when he’d do when he’s eight and awake from an awful dream.
“Nee-san.. can I sleep by your side tonight?”
And although her [c] eyes are tired, she will still smile. “Okay.”
And she’d keep watch over him the whole night.
He’s reminded of it when he hopelessly shakes her awake, to no obvious avail. But he keeps grasping her arms, anyway, like he used to many years ago.
But things are different now.
“[Name]—[N-Name]!?”
He said it himself—he’s no longer a child.
“Please, don’t leave me- I- you’re all I have left!” The ronin’s composure finally breaks loose and his tears begin landing like a profuse waterfall. His uncontained sobs remain unheard.
This time, there is no one to wake him up from his nightmares.
“No—no, no- no, please..!” Kazuha weeps as he holds his sister’s cold hand, shakily pressing it to his forehead, imitating the sweet action she has always given him. A hand on his head, on his shoulder—or on his cheek if he’s tearful. “You can’t!”
She’ll tell him not to be sad because it’ll make her sad, too.
And he’ll hurriedly wipe his tears because ‘no! big sister mustn’t feel sad because of me!’.
Then [Name] will muster a smile as bright as the sun and hold his face in her warm hands, and press a kiss on his forehead. He’ll get red and thrash around, whining, ‘onee-san!’. And about how embarrassing it is so she mustn’t do it anymore.
Now, he is holding her hand in his own, trying to remember the same warmth it emitted just a day ago. Just a few hours ago. How long has it been?
And when he doesn’t feel the warmth—when he doesn’t remember the warmth, when all he feels is the cold and the obvious lack of love, Kazuha breaks apart.
His heart squeezes and his tears spill more, his lips parting to release the honorific he has dropped a long, long time ago. “Nee-san!”
“You don’t call me ‘nee-san’ nowadays,”
“Onee-san!”
“My, you’ve grown so much, Kazu!”
“Onee-san!”
I’m calling you. He cries, like a picture of misery. So why aren’t you waking up? Sister! He cries, like a heartbroken child.
The winds around him pick up, warning him of incoming men sent to apprehend and penalize him the same way they did to his sibling. It’s suffocating—maddening, even, and he wants to tear them all down himself.
But [Name] wouldn’t like that.
So, with a muted cry and bolster of willpower, he tears himself from the body of his kin, trembling.
He can hear the thundering steps of the samurai as he hurries to untangle the same black and red scarf [Name] has once attempted to give him. The same fabric he has rejected.
“I’m sorry.. I’m so sorry.” he hugs her with all his might, with his soul, and with his heart before he’s back up on his feet and running. I love you, too, nee-san.
“Get him!” someone roars from behind.
And although he wishes to turn and slice them away, he couldn’t—because he’d be seeing the fallen figure of the same person he had neglected to cherish. So, instead, he nestles the scarf around his neck whilst clutching onto the Vision of his friend.
Down the path, he runs.
Years ago, he will be accompanied by the people he loves, chasing a faraway future.
Now he is running on the same path alone, running after a dream that can now be turned into reality.
Far from Inazuma.
Far from home.
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
a/n: did it hurt-
‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾ Return to the Scrying Glass ☽༓・*˚⁺‧͙
≿————- taglist ————-≾
@lehra @melkxsh
heather
loading...dom subject 2 albedo x sub gn reader
summary: only if you knew how much I liked you but I watch your eyes, as he walks by. what a sight for sore eyes brighter than the blue sky. he's got you mesmerised with i die.
warnings: spoilers for shadows amidst snowstores event, smut, m4sturb4t10n, he is imagining all of this, unprotected s3x, or4l (reader giving), throatfking, rough s3x, penetration (reader receiving), dumbification, angst, I just realised this kinda has yandere implications but very very slight it's not meant to be read that way S2 isn't possessive/obsessive over reader but he does feel bitter over their love for albedo and wishes it was him so he vents it out I won't tag it as yandere but if what I described feels uncomfortable for you then you don't need to read it
(if I ever make a part 2 I'm gonna make it dom reader)
Alone in his hideout, deep within the mountainous Dragonspine, he lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls down his shorts. His eager hand cups the tent, palming his crotch while his teeth bites the glove off his free hand before tossing it aside. He repeats the motion with his other hand while his ungloved hand resumes the movement on his crotch. It dips into his underwear, pulling out his awaiting cock and wrapping his palm over it.
He wishes it was you. He wishes your soft hand was the one rubbing his cock. He wishes you were on your knees, looking up at him with needy eyes. He wishes you were here. But no. He doesn't have to wonder about your whereabouts. You were with him.
He saw the two of you today. That person was carrying you on his back. Fresh bruises and scratches littered all over your body. Goes to show how much of a failure he is. If it was him, he would have been able to protect you. He wouldn't have allowed anyone to lay a hand on a beautiful human such as yourself. He could have been better than that so-called perfect version of himself.
But your eyes weren't filled with disappointment or anger towards that person. Even with droopy half lidded eyes, there was a content smile on your face. The sight sickened him, filling his stomach with nauseating filth that made him want to throw up.
He first met you at midnight. By then most humans should have left Dragonspine. It was that day he discovered you weren't "most humans". You had mistaken him for Albedo — good — and chastised him for staying up late. You noted it would be too tiring of a journey for him to head back to his camp so you dragged him to stay the night at your camp. You cooked dinner for him, fussed over his unhealthy habits — Albedo’s habits more accurately — and asked him about his day. Never did anyone care for him as much as you did. But that blooming warmth was extinguished when he realised you cared for Albedo and not him.
"You can take the bed tonight. I can sleep on the floor,"
"Why can't we just share the bed?"
Your bright face turned into one of embarrassment. "S-share? You...want to share a bed with me?"
He tilted his head. "Yes, isn't that sensible? Humans preserve their natural body heat when they huddle up together."
It's only rational. He didn't understand your hesitation. That is until you two were actually sharing the bed. He strokes his hardened cock, remembering the way your plush body pressed up against his. The way your hot breath brushed against his neck. The way you wriggled under the covers in an effort to spare some distance between you and himself. The way you bit your plump moistened lips and avoided his gaze. Fuck, those lips. What pretty, pretty lips. He wanted to kiss them until they bruised. He wanted to bite them and shove his tongue past them. Or maybe he could shove something else.
His imagination painted a painting of you still on your knees but with your lips parted open. You were trembling under his intense stare that bore into your skull. He was getting impatient, and he felt like he had to use all of his restraint to not give into the urge to stuff his entire cock in your mouth. He groans at the image of your dumbstruck face as you struggle to take his dick. But he rewinds that thought and decides to tease you instead. With a smug smirk, he imagines himself rubbing his cockhead against your moist lips, smearing it with pre-cum. Your eyebrows would furrow and you would force yourself to take all of him. It would be too much for you of course, so you would choke but stubbornly try to continue even when tears clouded your vision. Instead of easing, he would be rougher, harshly grabbing your head and taking control to just fuck your mouth like his own cocksleeve.
He hisses, speeding up his strokes. He wants to cum right now. He needs to cum right now, he needs to cum, he needs to cum he needs to cum he needs to—
White spurts out his cock, tainting the ground. In his imagination, a surprised sound slips out of your throat, muffled by his cock in your mouth. You would gulp, forcing yourself to swallow everything he gives you and he rewards you by patting your head. At last, he relaxes as he calms down from his high, returning back to the present where he is sitting alone on his bed, jacking off to you. So this is an orgasm…
The concept of sex is not completely foreign to him. He has read books about it, and he understands that it is not just for reproduction, but as a show of love and trust. Given your feelings for Albedo, you've likely had desires to engage in this activity with him.
In the days you've spent with him, he noticed the lovesick look in your eyes whenever you looked at him. Thinking he was Albedo, you followed him around like a clingy puppy, went out of your way to prepare meals for him and gave him little trinkets that you thought he would like. What a lucky bastard. To have people who accept him as one of their own, to have a family and to be loved by such a perfect human.
He'll take it all from him. He'll take his identity, he'll take his family, he'll take you the moment the opportunity presents itself. You'll be happy too. He'll profess his love to you and you'll happily accept. He would have you for himself and he'll finally be able to kiss you just like he has been longing to do. He would be able to savour your sweetness. He would be able to savour your body.
Wetting his cracked lips, his hand dips down once again. He adjusts himself to the centre of the bed, ridding himself of his undergarments so he could spread his legs freely. Sweat cascades down his features, his neck burning as he allows indecent thoughts of you to roam in his head.
You would be laying bare under him. He hasn’t seen you naked before but he knows from staring at your body for an ungodly amount of time — he claimed it was just an attempt to sketch you — that you would be fucking hot. He would be looking down at you, desire burning within his teal eyes that would threaten to light you aflame. A carnal flame that yearned to devour you whole.
He skips the foreplay; his mind racing to conjure up a stimulating scenario. Moans reverberated off the cavern walls that he calls his home, serving as an incentive for him to pound into you faster. He wrecks your hole, plunging in and out with such force that makes your eyes roll into the back of your skull. You’re choking on air, choking on your words as you try to call out to him.
“Hah– arghk! Ah–! Albe– mMH! Kkhn...Albedo!”
His daydream disrupted, he winches. Ah, that’s right he wasn’t given a name, was he? Well that doesn’t matter. Once he replaces Albedo he can wipe all memory of him from his mind. He can pretend he has always been Albedo. It would be his new identity, not that he has one in the first place. Although he can enact his plan – dispose of Albedo and take his place – and take you in the process, somehow it...hurt. It hurts knowing that whenever he sees those bright eyes full of adoration looking at him, it is aimed towards Albedo and not him. When you shower him in love, it's full of your love for Albedo and not him. Even if he replaced him, the one you love would always be Albedo and it will always be since you fell for him in the first place.
He grinds his jaws as he forces himself to return to his daydream. He imagines himself fucking your harder, harder, harder, fucking you so dumb that you can’t even talk. He doesn’t want you to talk if you are going to call out for him. He’ll get used to it one day. Maybe. But right now, the thought of you lusting over that disappointing failure his master calls a “pinnacle of creation” makes his fucking blood boil. You scream in pleasure, nails digging into the sheets as he buries himself deep within you. He’s the one making you feel this way. It’s him. Only him. Yes, if he keeps doing this, if he keeps giving you pleasure, you’ll realise he’s the one for you, right? You’ll fall in love with him right? You’ll forget about him, right?!
“Fuck, (Name)! Forget about– hgh– him... forget about him, forget about him! He is worthless, he is nothing! Hah, fuck…I love you! I love you more than he could ever! Fuck, fuck, fuck, (Name), I love you, I love you! Fucking take it!”
He violently slams into you one last time before spilling himself inside you; he’s marked you as his. You squeal, you greedy hole squeezing him and milking his cock. He pants, kissing your cheek as he pulls out. You hand cups his cheek as you return the kiss, smiling as you whisper to him.
“I love you,”
He opens his eyes, his hand dyed with cum. Sweat drips down his body, his entire body feverish and his hair begraddled. Gods, what have you done to him? He lets out a long breath, about to get up and clean himself off.
“Albedo?” he freezes. “Is that you?”
doodles inspited by @pbeltarts titanic au cause i’m always a hoe for pretty ladies on period drama costumes
some after party kinda thing :^)
protective Dan Heng
✦ angst with no comfort, except for zhongli’s
i just really can’t see him saying something that mean i’m sorry
g/n reader as always!
y’all didn’t actually think i wouldn’t post angst for valentines day … right? enjoy <3
*note: there’s a slight mention of diluc’s past in his section that some might not know about. you can look here on the wiki to read about it, or skip it if you don’t want spoilers.
part one | the moment they fell for you with diluc, kaeya, childe, zhongli, and xiao
diluc can hardly even look at you. he needs to calm down, he can feel his rational slipping — but every time he pictures you recklessly running into the middle of a battle, an unbearable rage shoots through him.
“diluc, you’re being childish—“
“oh, i’m being childish? this is ridiculous, i can’t believe you,” he spits. “that was quite possibly the dumbest decision you’ve ever made. i don’t even know why i bother to bring you along with me anymore.”
you scoff, eyes narrowing. “you’re kidding, right? i’ve saved your ass on numerous occasions, sorry for the inconvenience.”
his jaw clenches as diluc struggles to keep his temper, shaking his head at your words. “what you did today was idiotic. had i not reached you in time, you wouldn’t be standing here at this moment.”
you continue to glare at him, eyes hardening as you say, “well, i guess we didn’t all have the luxury of training with the knights.”
he snaps.
diluc visibly seems to bristle as the simmering anger in his eyes begins to burn brighter. he takes a step toward you, not noticing the fresh fear in your gaze.
“how dare you?” he growls, voice growing louder as he continues to speak. “i have done nothing but babysit you ever since we met — i let you join me on my errands because i thought it would help you find a sense of worth, but i suppose it was useless. you’re nothing but a burden.”
you swallow before quietly asking, “is that how you really feel?” he huffs out a humorless laugh that only makes your heart ache more, the man standing in front of you seeming more and more like a stranger.
“why would i waste my time lying?”
you have no response as you stare back at him, the shock and hurt evident in your eyes. he drops his gaze.
“i think it would be best if you left,” he says, voice low and threatening. you’re quick to turn and briskly walk out the door, leaving diluc alone with his thoughts. his mind begins to clear as soon as he realizes what he said, an overwhelming wave of guilt washing over him. he quickly makes his way outside, sighing in relief when he sees your figure walking away from the winery.
he catches up to you, panic setting in when you refuse to look at him. “please, we should talk—”
“i want nothing to do with you,” you retort, trying to quicken your pace. “leave me alone.”
“i shouldn’t have said that,” he tries, stepping in front of you. you glare up at him, and diluc feels his heart crack when he sees the tears welling in your eyes. “please come back with me, we need to talk about this.” he gently tries to reach for your hand, eyes widening when he sees you flinch away.
were you scared of him?
“there’s nothing to talk about.” your voice is small, yet he can still sense the hurt in it. “let me go, diluc.”
“i—”
“move.” reluctantly, he moves to the side, watching hopelessly as you walk away.
diluc swears his world gets a bit dimmer when he realizes he might have lost you for good.
Keep reading
THAT PUSSY KILL BE SO VICIOUS
୨୧ featuring: welt yang, sunday, jing yuan, aventurine x fem reader
ଘ cw: smut, dubcon, dacryphilia, edging, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, nipple play, choking, manhandling, public sex, rough sex
୨୧ synopsis: keep your mouth shut and let him take his frustration out on you
ଘ wc: 2.4k
ʚ WELT YANG ɞ
Welt isn’t the type to get easily angered. It would be foolish to anger him, though. Depending on the situation, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to deal with it. There are times, however, when he is just beyond angered. He’s brimming with madness. And there is only one way to make him calm down and not pull a black hole on everyone, destroying everything in the immediate vicinity.
“Ah, Mr Yang!” You smile as you see him in the corridor of the Passenger Cabin, just outside of his room. “I was wondering if you could—”
Before you can even finish your sentence, Welt grabs your wrist and pushes you into his room, slamming you on the door. You turn over your shoulder to look at him confused and your eyes widen when you notice the shimmering anger burning fiercely in his eyes. You gulp, wondering what could have happened to make him so mad.
“Sorry, little one.” His tone is cold and dark. He takes his glasses off, leaving them on the desk on his right. His body pins you to the door, his hand choking your neck, as he grinds himself on your arse. “But right now, I need you to be a good girl and don’t make any noise.”
Welt is quick with freeing his cock from the confines of his trousers. He lifts your skirt to your waist and slides your panties to the side, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers. You bite your lip, squirming as he holds you in place. He kisses your neck, as he rubs his hard cock on your entrance. “This is going to hurt, but I cannot bother with foreplay right now.” He kisses your cheek, then covers your mouth with his palm. “Forgive me, little one.”
He thrusts inside you hard, going all the way in, before he starts pounding into you like a maniac. You scream against his hand, tears streaming down your face at the ferocity of his thrusts. You’re certain that if anyone were to walk by in the corridor, they would be able to hear the brutal slap of skin on skin.
Your back arches, as Welt pulls your head back. Still ravaging your poor little pussy, he looks into your eyes. Usually he would be angered by the rivers of tears streaming down your cheeks, but not this time. He still feels bad for hurting you right now, but you and he both know that it’s either you he takes his anger out on or the universe. And let’s be honest, you do enjoy yourself right now, despite the initial pain of his penetration.
His free hand is holding onto your waist tightly, slamming your hips against his. Your legs shake as he brings you to orgasm within minutes. Even so, Welt doesn’t stop. He fucks you through your orgasm and eventually reaches his own, filling up your pussy with his seed. He doesn’t stop then either. He kisses your forehead as your muffled cries mix with his grunts.
Orgasm after orgasm, he’s making a mess out of the both you. It’s unbefitting of him, Welt knows that. But your tight pussy is the only thing that can purge the burning rage within him. He’ll make it up to you later. He always does, after all. But for now, he decides to act a bit selfish and use you as he pleases. As he bites down on your neck and dig his fingers into the soft flesh of your hip, after at least four orgasms, he does start to feel better.
For good measure, Welt wrenches two more orgasms from your body, before his thrusts slow down. He removes his hand from your mouth, knowing you’re too exhausted right now to make any sound. Your heavy breath echoes in the room along with his. A low moan escapes your lips when he pulls his cock out of your pussy, your mixed arousals dripping down between your legs.
You can barely stand, supporting yourself on the door. Welt tucks himself back in his trousers, then picks you up in his arms and carries you to his personal bathroom, carefully lowering you into the tub and running you a warm bath. You hum relieved at the warm water enveloping your body.
“So, what did you want to ask me?”
“I forgot,” you giggle.
ʚ SUNDAY ɞ
You know from the moment he calls you, barking “Come. Now” that Sunday is in an awful mood. You immediately drop everything and hurry to his office. You don’t bother knocking at his door and just open it. The whole room is a mess, papers scattered all over the place, fragments of a broken vase at a corner, you take note not to step on.
Cautiously, you approach him, who’s looking outside the window. “Sunday?”
He turns towards you, a small smile curling up on his lips. “Oh, you’re here, angel.”
“What happened—”
You scream as Sunday bends you over his desk without so much as a warning. He hastily removes your clothes, leaving you naked under his malicious gaze. He kisses your neck, shoulder and back, his hands cupping your breasts, groping them and pinching your nipples. An involuntary moan escapes your lips, making him smirk.
“No, talking,” he whispers in your ear, as he unbuttons his trousers. “Spread your legs for me, angel.” When you don’t immediately obey, he slaps your thighs apart. “Spread them,” he repeats in an authoritative tone.
This isn’t, of course, your first rodeo. It doesn’t mean that Sunday doesn’t make your entire body shudder as he thrusts inside your pussy. His thrusts are slow at first, yet violent, shaking the entire desk and forcing the air out of your lungs. And yet your greedy, masochistic pussy loves it, clenching around his cock so hard, he needs to put more force to move. It feels as if he’s splitting you in half.
Sunday picks up his pace, thrusting in and out of your now dripping pussy at a demonic speed, penetrating you deep, having you squirm underneath him. You can barely muffle your moans by biting your lip, but he couldn’t care less if you’re heard right now. All that matters to him is getting rid of all his frustrations.
You gasp when his fingers start rubbing your clit, your body tensing in his arms as your orgasm approaches. You’re so close to tasting the sweet nectar of bliss when Sunday slows down his pace, before stopping altogether with his cock buried in your pulsing cunt. You turn to look at him over your shoulder, irritation written all over your face and he can’t help but chuckle at your cute expression.
“You’re so adorable all angered, angel,” he coos, his dark gaze devouring you whole. He starts rocking his hips once more, hitting your g spot time and again to make you moan and whimper. He leans over your shoulder, his right arm slipping underneath your body to grope your breast. “But you’re not cumming until I say so.”
The thing about Sunday is that even if you’re not the one who has wronged him, you’re still the one getting punished. He will eventually deal with the real pain in his arse, but for now, the easiest and perhaps safest way to vent his anger is by punishing his little angel, namely you. Each whiny little whimper he draws out of you with each denied orgasm feeds his sadistic ego, pacifying his wrath.
Your mind is lost in all your denied pleasure. You’re so gone, you can barely complain anymore. And that’s his cue for Sunday to finally allow you to cum. If he’s being honest, he has calmed down for a while now, but you couldn’t possibly expect him to drop his little game with his favourite toy, could you?
When your orgasm floods your body, you scream his name so loud, you’re certain everyone in Penacony heard you. Sunday cannot help but smirk, marvelling at the way your body spasms from the intensity of your orgasm. He can never think of a better way to ease his rage than this.
ʚ JING YUAN ɞ
Everyone flinches as the General passes them by, his irritation heavy in the air. Nobody dares block his way nor talk to him. There is a high possibility of ending up dead if they do. Even Yanqing changes paths, thinking that he can always come back later to challenge his master in a duel.
Jing Yuan walks into his bedchamber and he’s thankful you’re already there. He wouldn’t be able to wait a moment longer. Immediately, he attacks you, turning you to him and devouring your lips, sucking your very soul out of your body. His hands grope your arse cheeks, his fingers digging into the fabric of your skirt.
He lifts you in his arms, carrying you over and throwing you in his bed, before hovering over you. He’s like a wild lion, out to torment a poor little prey because someone enraged him. And that’s exactly what he’s doing right now. When you try to wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer, he harshly pins them down the mattress, while pressing his knee on your clothed pussy, making you whimper in your kiss.
The next moment, Jing Yuan flips you over, pushing your face into the mattress, as he lifts your hips up. He rips your clothes to shreds, his hands hungrily roaming and groping every part of your body, relishing on your squirming form underneath him. You gasp when he pounds into you, stretching you out to accommodate his entire length. “Fuck,” he groans.
Each thrust is more vicious than the previous. You hug one of his pillows and bury your head in it, muffling your screams and whimpers, tears staining it. Jing Yuan couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. The feeling of sliding his cock in and out of your pulsing core is making him slowly forget about all the trouble that enraged him in the first place.
He feasts on your trembling form beneath him, spanking your arse just to hear your cute, surprised yelps. It’s intoxicating him. He lies on top of you, still making you go dumb on his cock, and wraps his arm around your neck, while the other grabs on your breasts. You come undone right then and there and he can’t help but smirk. “My cute little kitten,” Jing Yuan coos in your ear.
He nibbles the soft flesh of your neck, curving his mark, as he chases after his own orgasm. But just one time is not enough to quench his thirst for blood. Like a savage lion, he doesn’t plan on releasing you any time soon, holding you tightly in his arms, as he brings you closer to another orgasm. Even when you complain about being sensitive after three more orgasms, Jing Yuan relentlessly pounds into you, filling you up with all his seed until he’s satisfied.
In-between of his ferocious thrusts, he kisses your lips, showing you some semblance of gentleness, not wishing to break you too fast or else he will be in need of another target to vent. And there’s nobody who can satiate him as well as you. You can feel every inch of him as he’s now slowed down to delay your next orgasm. Yet you’re so sensitive that you’re on the verge of cumming once more.
ʚ AVENTURINE ɞ
You had the feeling that you’d end up like this from the moment the meeting began. You could just tell that someone would anger your superior and you’d be the one to clean up the mess. And you were right.
The moment everyone disappears from the meeting room, Aventurine motions you to approach him. His darkened gaze dares you to disobey. When you’re close enough to him, he sits you on his lap, your thighs on either side of his, as you look into his eyes. He takes your chin in his forefinger and thumb and crushes his lips on yours, his tongue penetrating your mouth without warning.
Your body arches to him, your breasts flattening against his chest. He slaps your arse, making your jolt and whimper in your kiss. Aventurine ignores it. His hand slides underneath your skirt, pulling your panties to the side and sliding two fingers inside you. “Oh, what’s this? You’re already wet? Did you fantasise about this during the meeting?” Of course you did. You knew it was coming and couldn’t help your mind wandering off down a dark rabbit hole.
Fumbling with his belt, you pull his trousers and underwear down. He strokes his cock, rubbing the tip on your wet folds before thrusting inside. His head falls back at the tightness and warmth enveloping him. Aventurine holds your hips as he slams you down his girth, his cock reaching deep within you, while you hold onto his shoulders to support yourself.
You feel a bit uneasy having sex in the meeting room, knowing that someone can easily walk in on you, but you’re more worried about your superior right now. Besides, if a fool does come in, they’re going to fall prey to Aventurine’s rage.
Aventurine tears your shirt apart, sending buttons flying all over the room. He doesn’t bother removing your bra and just pulls it down. Your breasts bounce in rhythm with your movements. He takes them in his hands, running his thumbs over your hardened nipples. He leans down and takes one nipple in his mouth, sucking and biting on it, as you move up and down his length.
When your movements slow down, Aventurine raises an eyebrow in question, tilting his head on your chest. His right hand delivers a harsh spank on your arse, the stinging pain making your pussy clench around his cock. “Did I tell you to slow down?” He doesn’t wait for your answer before he’s thrusting up inside you.
You cover your mouth with your hand, yet your muffled moans are enough to make him cum inside you. His warm seed fills you up as he continues fucking you time and again. Your little mishap results in Aventurine denying your orgasm till you have begged him enough. Seeing you so desperately pleading him for release lights up his mood. He doesn’t plan on letting you cum yet, wanting to hear you beg more, but he will, eventually.
© strawchocoberry — do not copy, repost, translate or reuse my work
I'm in love with him ♡
Good luck to everyone pulling on Zhongli’s banner, I hope he comes home for all yall! To those who may spend money on his banner, please spend responsibly and don’t be like Zhongli.
Flower crown, but I don’t know how to draw flowers👍
Also style experiment or whatever
cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, overstimulation, masturbation *not proofread, just pure horny
[It do be my birthday so here is milkman breeding session <33] here are some refs for you @smmy-winchster @partycatty
You should be glad he came at the time he did, otherwise you would've been caught a long while ago.
You're being pressed into your desk, your thighs closed tightly around Francis’ hips. The sound of your arousal was evident. There was a growing pool of cum coating your swollen cunt. Francis looked down between your messy thighs, watching how your pretty hole stretched around his length.
“So sorry for making you wait, my darling.” His cock throbbed again, more cum managing to spurt out of him. His low groans trialled into short whimpers, his sensitivity growing with each pump. His fingers dipped into your hips, realigning his hips back before pushing forward and pulling you down onto him. His cock speared you open, coating your walls in a sticky white.
“Easy my dear, I'm not done.” His words are a whisper against your skin, a promise of something more. His breathing is heavy, his cock pulsing within your warm walls. You pushed your hips down against him, meeting his thrusts halfway. Francis tugged your legs up higher, letting them rest over his shoulders. His hands held tighter on your hips, desperately pulling your soft body onto him.
You're lost in your own cloud of lust, only focused on the way Francis moulds your pussy to accommodate his length. The wet squelch reaches your ears too quickly, flustering you as you listen to how easily he slides in and out of your slick cunt.
His hands spread across the sides of your stomach before he trails one down, rubbing his thumb against your puffy clit. Your back bows, craving him harder, faster, and deeper. You can feel every vein and every pulse as Francis rammed himself inside you again and again.
He could feel his own cock twitch, swiftly pulling out to coat your messy cunt with another layer of white. He continues to stroke himself through his orgasm, slapping his tip against your clit.
“You can handle a few more, right? Be good for me and let me fill you up, yea?”
A walking joke that can't do shit but cry Names Mia, 18y/o artist , 🇲🇾🇲🇾, trying so hard atm
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