I'm going to start rambling about Dispatch more on my blog because I have quite a few rambles that I did in Tiktok comments sections, so here's a short rant I did after reading Comic 6 of the Dispatch comic series in a Discord server(copy and pasted directly from Discord with some extra re-formatting to make the format of the text match the original Discord messages because the Discord formatting shortcuts unfortunately don't transfer over to Tumblr):
!!!Heavy Dispatch Lore/Backstory Spoilers Ahead!!! Ramble under cut
Omg. There's another mini comic to the Dispatch series telling why Elliot became Shroud and why his name is Shroud ToT Basically, Eli was mad at Mecha Man Astral/Robert's dad/the previous Mecha Man/the leader of the Brave Brigade for canceling the vote that would allow Eli to join the Brave Brigade, so he challenged Astral in a fight, and if Eli won, he would get to join the Brave Brigade. Eli used his augments to make himself stronger and told Astral to get in the Mecha Man suit so that they can fight, but Astral was basically like, "I don't need the suit to beat you, you aren't worth the energy it takes to flip the ignition switch," then proceeds to throw a rag on Eli's face to blind him, punch him in the face, and destroy some of his augments, then Astral says word-for-word, "Let's lift the shroud so you can see this one coming," before lifting the rag off his face and winding his arm back to deliver the winning blow. However, Chase/Trackstar stepped in and saved Eli from being decked in the face again, being like "What the fuck, man?" Those were Chase's exact words btw. Anyway, yeah, so Astral's disrespect for Eli and his "Let's lift the shroud so you can see this one coming" line was why Eli became a villain by the name of Shroud
(Extra note: The rant above was before I finished the comic so I didn't even know THE HALF OF IT, so here's me liveblogging my crash out about what happened in the second half of the comic)
HOLY SHIT
THAT'S HOW ROBERT'S DAD DIED AT THE HANDS OF SHROUD???
I THOUGHT THAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED LATER AFTER SHROUD BECAME AN OFFICIAL VILLAIN, NOT RIGHT WHEN HE DECIDED TO BECOME A VILLAIN
OMG AND CHASE WAS RIGHT THERE IN THE ROOM WHEN IT HAPPENED, HE TRIED TO SAVE ASTRAL BY OUTRUNNING THE BULLET AND BLOCKING IT WITH HIS HAND, BUT THE BULLET WHEN STRAIGHT THROUGH CHASE'S HAND AND HIT ASTRAL IN THE CHEST
Chase was trying to call for help while Robert's dad was dying in his arms, knowing that if Astral dies right here, right now, Robert would have to take up the role as Mecha Man at the age of 14-16
THE AMOUNT OF GUILT CHASE MIGHT HAVE CARRIED AND COULD STILL CARRY BECAUSE OF THAT BECAUSE HE WASN'T ABLE TO SAVE HIS DAD
Maybe that's partially why Chase recommended Robert to Blonde Blazer to be the dispatcher for Z-Team after hearing about Robert stepping down as Mecha Man after the explosion because maybe the explosion would never have happened if Chase managed to save Robert's dad and apprehend Elliot before he got away...
I really can and will blame the 9-5 for everything. "We're in a loneliness epidemic" well, we have to spend a third of our day interacting with people in a professional way that makes forming real friendships difficult and then we're peopled out by the time we're done. "People are eating more and more unhealthily" people have to spend more than a third of their day doing work related tasks and they don't want to spend their tiny amount of free time making food. "People aren't involved in their local communities" after spending more than a third of their day doing work related things people are tired and also all those community events take place during normal working hours. "People need to get more hobbies" after spending more than a third of their day working, people are TIRED and don't want to do anything that takes yet more energy. "Literacy is dying" to maintain your critical thinking skills you need to read/watch things that make you think and after spending more than a third of your day doing work related stuff you are TIRED and don't want to expend even more brainnpower. "People need to get outside more" People. Are. TIRED. Because they have to spend all of their time working or preparing for work or recovering from work or doing all the chores they couldn't stay on top of because of work. I can blame fucking anything on having to work, it is truly the root of all fucking evil.
Hey OP, love your scalding take here; don't forget about commutes.
Once you factor in commute times (which even for short distances can be grotesquely inflated due to the fact that so many people are all commuting at the same time, but that's a different conversation) many people are actually devoting upwards of 10-12 hours a day on "work related tasks."
Ada Wong, I'm so sorry that your character is so often watered down to only your looks. Ada Wong, I'm so sorry that Capcom refuses to put you in a game unless Leon is there, despite the fact that the vast majority of the work you do occurs outside of your relationship to him. Ada Wong, I'm so sorry that there was literally a hate campaign against your voice actress from the RE4 remake because SOME fans thought her performance wasn't "sultry" enough. Ada Wong, I'm so sorry that you are viewed only as a male-manipulator, even though espionage and therefore lying is literally your job, and every time you have lied to ANYONE on screen it has literally just been because you were doing your job. Ada Wong, I'm so sorry that people refuse to acknowledge your moral and emotional complexity because you hurt a guy's feelings one time. Ada Wong, I'm so sorry that you are so rarely depicted having positive relationships with other women. Ada Wong, I'm just so sorry tbh
Vote Ada! Her treatment by fandom has historically been...not great, and she desevres so much better!
When meeting Linnea for the first time you couldn’t help but notice the crystal-like marks on her body.
After some time, when you two become closer friends, you couldn’t help but ask her about the marks.
-”Oh those? All Faes had some kind of marks on their bodies!”
This one sentence made your thoughts wander towards a certain Ratnik.
You know he pretends to be human, you wouldn't be surprised if he normally has ears like Linnea but changed appearance to mingle among humans. But the most important thing for you right now is…
Does he have marks like Linnea as well?
You visited Final Night Cemetery to check on Flins and also as a way to ask him about marks without worrying anyone who shouldn’t learn his real identity would hear the conversation.
-”(Y/n), I couldn’t help but notice that something is bothering you. Is the tea not to your taste?” Flins asked, smiling politely.
-”Huh? Oh no! The tea is great! I just… “ You looked at the cup you were holding. Still debating if it’s really okay to ask him about it.
-”If there is anything on your mind you can always tell me, I won’t judge. And if there is a problem bothering you I can offer some solutions to it.” The Ratnik responded, his eyes watching your every move and expression.
You sighed and then with a serious face you finally asked.
-”Do you have crystal marks?”
-”Pardon?”
-”I mean… Linnea is a Fae and she has those crystal marks and when I asked her she said all Faes have such marks on their bodies so I was… curious… about yours…” the last words you muttered, feeling a bit embarrassed for asking him that.
Flins only chuckled, putting his arms on the table and propping his chin on his hands, looking at you with amuement in his eyes.
-”Are you that curious?” You nodded with hesitation. “Then how about we come to my room so you may check your theory? I don't mind baring myself to you, if that's what you wish for."
His smile was innocent compared to what he just said. You got up, slamming your hands on the table.
-”F-Flins!! Don’t say things like THIS!?” your voice broke from embarrassment.
-”I merely jest.” Flins chuckled, clearly enjoying your reaction.
-”You’re so mean…” you pouted.
-"But I dare to say I feel honored by your interest in me, my dear (Y/n)." He took your hand and placed a kiss on it.
Your heart skipped a beat, feeling shy you turn your head away.
-"I-I mean we are frends! It's normal to be curious!" Flins smiled at that.
-"Friends, hm..." Before he could countinue teasing you, you changed the subject.
In the end you still don't know if he has Fae marks on his body or not.
He is the only one he sees the courting, for the rest of the world is just him bein g his ussual gentlemen and chivalry side.
He always listens to you, about anything and everything, he takes pleasure in trying to help you.
He always asks you if you could let him accompany you to your house so he can reassure that you get safe and sound.
When he sees you on the shadows, he always uses his lamp to brig you to light, even when its just to distract you from something or someone.
You always get hypnotized looking at the blue and purple flames and he is more than flattered of it, like you are making him the best compliment ever.
He is a practical man and his definition of love is doing things for the ones he loves, so for courting he is always asking you what you need, doing it on advance or even doing stuff you didn't even know you needed.
He collects flowers you like cause he thinks it would look great of your apartment.
He buys some of your groceries cause you've been complaining about how you hadn't found time to do them.
Also, he takes you to walks into all kind of places in Nod Krai, especially if you aren't from there. he would give you the whole tour.
If you are already from there, he would ask you to acompany him on his lightkeeper duties.
He is also a little cryptic and deep so he always chooses his words to be a message of his profound love for you.
But you don't get it cause he is too deep and cryptic, and he doesn't realize it so he gets a little frustrated about it and complains to Lauma, who always laughs.
Lauma is the best advisor he could get to start being more obivous about his intentions and even though he still isn't clear about it, you start noticing things.
At some point, he realized that his courting didn't go anywhere and it doesn't work anymore.
This is a somehow modern world and he already has showed you up all his heart, if you don't like him, then no courting in Teyvat would change that.
He takes you to a special place, most probably the cemetery and takes you to the top of the light house to look at the night sky.
He would have your favourite flowers, chocolate or whatever gift he knew you would like, cause he always listens to your tastes and knows what you would like for the perfect asking out date.
He doesn't stutter but he made a really long speech about his love for you and with the nerves he cut a lot of stuff while talking, but you didn't know that.
Of course you say yes, and he has a big smile on his face, he can finally breath and peace and kiss your lips like he has been imagining for months.
in which you wonder what to get your beloved for his birthday, and Diluc Ragnvindr expresses that he only wants you, again and again.
warnings: fem reader, fluff and smut, reader is a teacher, established relationship, reader visibly blushes, reader is also shorter than Diluc and gets carried, alcohol mention, lingerie, dryhumping, piv, creampies, multiple rounds. 4k words. thank you to @takaholic for being my beta reader!
♡ HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY STRAWBERRY BOY MY HUSBAND…DILUC RAGNVINDR! I LOVE YOU WITH MY WHOLE HEART :’)
Diluc remembers the day he saved you.
Luckily it was not too fearful of a thing, his vigilante persona still tucked away when he spotted you shakily making your way down the cobblestone steps in the middle of Mondstadt. You were carrying stacked flower pots, empty but still heavy with the great weight of their stone makings, and your footing was clumsy as you tried to peek around the hefty pile in your arms. He could see, very plainly that you either were about to fall and injure yourself, or you were going to drop everything and create a mess that would not be easy or discreet to clean up.
He is a swift man, Diluc, when he rushes to you and grasps the flower pots in your arms and lifts the load easily. With strength from moving wine barrels and heavy carts at the winery, to swinging a massive sword with practiced ease. Your head pops out from behind them to beam at him with sincere surprise and gratitude.
“Mister Ragnvindr! Thank you, I suppose it was silly to think I could wrangle this all myself huh?” you laugh, allowing Diluc to hoist the entire stack out of your arms. You glance down at your dress, covered in dirt and your cheeks redden as you quickly wipe the front of your skirts.
“Diluc. You can call me Diluc, remember? And it’s quite alright, just, don’t be afraid to ask for help.” he nods, noting your eager nod in agreement. He can only clear his throat to deter whatever just occurred in his heart of hearts at your cute grin, and asks where you need the pots. You lead him to Flora — where you grin at her and thank her for her beautiful flowers, and for lending you the pots. You plan to transfer the flowers into a larger garden box in front of your classroom window, at the school where you work. It’s all trivial small talk, but Diluc cannot find himself moving away from the conversation. From you.
Flora steps closer, and blinks at Diluc behind you.
“Did Mister Diluc help you?” she inquires.
You glance back at him. His expression is not easily read now, but you still smile.
“He did! He if anything, saved me today. I almost made a mess.”
Flora beams, and skips over to Diluc to hand him a sweet flower. He takes it in surprise, seeing his cheekbones run a soft pink, and you giggle quietly into the back of your hand.
“That was very kind of you, Mister Diluc.” she says.
“It was nothing. Have a good day.” he nods at you and the child politely, holding the flower to be twirled in his gloved fingers. The yellow sweet flower is vibrant, but he can’t get the brilliance of your thankful smile endlessly given to him.
And now, a long while later even after love confessions, you’re perched in his lap. Straddled thighs clinging around his hips comfortably in the Angels Share, feeling a little silly from your wine and nuzzling your face against his jaw. The tavern is closed, clean, and locked up. Your shoes are discarded somewhere behind the bar as your lover finishes up some quick numbers before likely carrying you home.
“You’re so warm Lulu, I could fall asleep here.” you hum. Diluc warms at the cute nickname, something you call him when it’s only you two, and he turns his face to kiss your nose.
“You’ve fallen asleep on me before, my love. It certainly wont be the last. Please rest, I’ll get us home shortly.” he promises, smelling of cinnamon and clove and a soapy aftershave that you love.
You wiggle in his lap, kissing his jaw.
“I never said I was tired.” you murmur against the skin.
Dilucs pen stops, and you shift again on him — a dangerous rock of your hips and a flirty glint of your lips while he exhales slowly. You sit up in his hold, blinking slowly at your red headed lover to cup his face in your palms as he keeps his arm around your waist, his pen clatters atop the desk as his fingers gently pinch your chin.
“Are you feeling like being a little troublemaker? Is that what you’re implying?” Diluc muses, pulling you to him for a kiss — a gentle, teasing warning you’re familiar with.
It makes you wet. You giggle, not from the wine, but from Diluc, whose eyes go half - lidded as he kisses you again while your hips buck sharply, feeling him growing hard between your legs. He grunts into your mouth, a slow roll of his own hips coming up to meet your clothed pussy under your skirt. A flicker of a flame, the candles in the corners of the tavern are playful to illuminate the scene while you rub your clit, the soaked fabric of your underwear stuck to it, against the fat head of his cock straining through his pants. The length of him is evident, an outline that you drag your folds against while Diluc kisses you harder and your manicured nails sink into the hair on his scalp.
“Don’t stop, Diluc.” you gasp, his hands coming to the globes of your ass, your dress lewdly hiked up over your hips. He squeezes them in time with a low, salacious groan, dragging you and rocking you against him. Your face is flushed with pleasure, dizzy and drunk on his intentional and intense movements that keep your pussy pressed tight against his hard and twitching bulge. He’s going to cum and make a mess of his pants.
“My beautiful girl, so naughty. But I often give you want you want, yes?” Diluc huffs, long strands of hair falling in his face and eyes smoldering as you whimper.
“Yes! I want to…want to cum.” you gasp, warbled and clipped as the petals of your pussy are split even through your sodden panties against his clothed cock.
“Spoiled little thing, sweet thing. Archons, you’re so precious.” he says through a clenched jaw, watching with sharp owl eyes at the bow of your body as you ride and bounce on him with a shaky squeeze of your thighs around his waist. His vision starts growing faded at the edges — your sweet, soaked bliss rocking against his straining bulge bringing him hurtling towards the edge.
He moans brokenly against your shoulder, feeling you shake in his arms. Your quivering thighs and jerky movements slow as you climax with your head thrown back and your hands still in his hair. It’s hot and wet, a cloying feeling of all sticky need and love made manifest in the quiet tavern. Diluc’s heart hammers in his chest when you look at him with swollen lips and a dreamy chuckle. You wetly kiss him, all soft and wanting.
“Diluc….” You breathe, still hot to the touch as your lashes flutter closed and you rest against him once again, “what do you want for your birthday?”
Diluc laughs softly, kissing your dewy temple. He thinks about how he wants to get you home, to make love to you properly. And then a bath for you both.
“All I want is you, dearest.”
You blow an anxious, dramatic puff of air from your nostrils, glancing at all of the magical, unique wares of Marjorie’s store. She’s always getting new things in, and for the last week or so you’ve been coming in daily, searching for something to get Diluc for his upcoming birthday.
You know not to make a spectacle — your dearest Diluc not particularly one for dazzle, but he also has a certain flair to him whether he admits to it or not. His reputation that goes beyond Mondstadt and to the different corners of Teyvat. He’s got a gentlemanly charm to him: exceedingly handsome and wanted by the ladies of Mondstadt (even with you very, very clearly being his significant other.) Carries himself with pride that both instills confidence in some and intimidation in others — as well as a strong imposing presence that lets everyone know Diluc Ragnvindr is there.
He is not one to go unnoticed, unless he’s patrolling at night, of course.
So, for his birthday, which is now one of several that you’ve celebrated with him, you’re confident in what he does like. But the problem is, Diluc is a man of vast wealth and thoughtfulness. He’s truly not one to really meddle with baubles and such , besides some sentimental pieces from family members, (and from you, of course.)
You leave the store empty handed with a small frown on your face. You go over the possibilities of what to get him, of how you selfishly wish you could get him anything that his kind and brave heart desires. You’d do anything, pay any price, just for Diluc to be reminded of your love and devotion. How happy you are to be his, and for it to be a gift to celebrate his dearness to you.
Later in the evening while you rummage around, and finishing getting ready for bed, Diluc appears with his arms crossed and leaning against the doorway. You know his softened footsteps, much quieter than what you would expect from his boots. You smile at him over your shoulder.
“So, you’ve been to Marjorie’s every day this week. Something you’re on the lookout for?” he muses.
“Okay, creepy Master Ragnvindr, have you been watching me that much?” you quip back playfully.
Diluc snorts.
“I tend to keep tabs on my favorite person, perhaps you could fault me for that.” he returns, walking up behind you and encircling your waist with his arms and a kiss to your cheek.
“You’ll have to forgive me for merely being curious.”
You hum, a smile growing on your face as your head leans back to rest on his shoulder. He presses kisses down the side of your throat.
“Well if you must know, I’m still thinking about what I’d like to get you for your birthday.” you lament slightly, turning to Diluc.
He sighs in endearment, placing his hands on your shoulders with a slow squeeze, “Darling, I have told you, really there’s nothing I could want for my birthday this year.”
You make a noise akin to a childish whine, your body flouncing in exasperation.
“But Diluc!” you frown. Diluc laughs, shaking his head and kissing your forehead.
“Really, silly girl. All I desire is to be with you if you’ll have me.”
“I just. I want you to feel special.” you reply petulantly. Your bottom lip folds out in an exaggerated pout, which Diluc kisses right off your face.
“Being yours is special.” he leans in closely, pressing another kiss to your cheek as you blush. He hums in quiet satisfaction as you blank for a moment. Then he wraps his arms around you and carries you to bed, your feet happily kicking up behind you as he chuckles against your temple.
You curl up next to him a bit later, after he’s thoroughly kissed you and had his head up your nightgown — his calloused fingers now tracing your spine. You feel ridiculous for your earlier tantrum, about wanting to spoil him with things. He’s very patient and gracious with you. You rest your chin on his chest and look up at him.
“Do you ever wish I was more like you? Quieter and less…excitable? Not so much of a ridiculous woman?” you whisper.
Diluc frowns, “Never. That would be boring. I love you. I fell in love with who you are. You’re never ridiculous. Except perhaps ridiculously charming, or kind, or thoughtful, or ridiculously cute.” Diluc says with a rub of the tip of his nose against yours.
Your eyes flash something of a sparkle in the low light of the bedroom, feeling him kiss your mouth again as he settles you in his arms before you drift off to sleep.
Soon enough, despite your overthinking, the day of his birthday arrives. Another year in the books of getting to celebrate with Diluc, another year of reminding him of how far he has come, how loved he is, how good of a man he truly is, and how so many find him to be an important and beloved figure in their lives.
You kiss him awake, watching him stretch like a great cat as the sun shines through the curtains. You giggle at his sleepy yawn, crawling over him whilst pushing his hair from his face, and then giggling when he suddenly grabs you at the waist in his burly arms, and pulls you close beneath the sheets.
“It’s your birthday, Diluc.” you whisper, grinning at him exhaling a laugh through his nostrils.
“I suppose it is, hm?” he smiles back, pulling you close for a kiss and a hum.
“I do hope that you didn’t run yourself ragged about getting me a present.” he adds.
You smile, with a slight shake of your head.
“I suppose you will have to find out!” you muse, kissing the bridge of his nose before hopping out of bed like a mischievous little rabbit.
Your lover is curious, and perceptive, but you know that you got him exactly what he wanted this year.
The evening comes and the Dawn Winery is modestly (or as modest as such a beautiful home could be) decorated with floral arrangements and a few strung lights, a stunning cake topped with dried fruits and candied flowers. Diluc, is as always, trying to hide his genuine smile — heartstrings tugged fully when Addie cups his face in her wrinkling hands, when Elzer pats him on the back, and even when Kaeya wraps an arm around Dilucs shoulders and wishes him a happy birthday. It’s nothing over the top, but Diluc feels loved. You can tell he feels grateful, even if he still sometimes grapples with whether or not he deserves such love.
Kaeya leaves towards the end of the evening after talking and swiping extra frosting from the cake all night with a bottle of dandelion wine.
“Isn’t it supposed to be my birthday? While here you are leaving with a gift.” Diluc quips, making Kaeya throw his head back with a hearty chuckle and a wink sent your way as he turns on his heel. Diluc throws a seemingly unnoticed smile towards his brother before closing the door, but you see it from the corner of your eye as you wave goodbye.
The fireplace is lit, as in April it still does get a bit chilly at nighttime. You and Diluc are sitting together on a few blankets gathered in front of the fire. Soft furs and heavy quilts lay in enticing piles for you to rub your bare feet upon and to watch the flames dance in Diluc eyes as he sips his favorite grape juice, his hair undone from his usual ponytail. All of the staff retired to their quarters, and now it’s just the pair of you in the quiet, save for your low laughter and Dilucs recounting of certain fond, childhood memories that you hold dear to hear from his very lips.
The fire crackles, your lips purse thoughtfully, “Diluc, would you like anymore dessert?”
Diluc looks as if he’s mulling things over, reaching over to take your hand and rub his fingers across your delicate knuckles.
“You know, I’m not sure there’s anything I could have that’s as sweet as you.” he smirks lightly. Your heart pounds at such flirtation from a man such as himself, even if you’re used to his occasional quips that leave you breathless and giggling all silly like. You remove your hand from his touch and he watches as you stand on the blankets.
“Funny you should say that.” you laugh softly, your cheeks growing ruddy as your fingers move to the buttons on your dress.
Your dress is your favorite color, because according to Diluc Ragnvindr, when you wear your favorite color, that’s his favorite too. You could cry at how he can be such a softie, if your heartbeat wasn’t currently in your ears. You slowly unbutton and untie, opening the garment and allowing it to fall to the floor as Diluc looks up at you with adoration.
Upon your figure sits a lingerie set, a brilliant red color that’s as vivid as it is soft and silky clinging against your body. Sweet tied ribbons set as bows go across each breast as well as another one on the backside of your underwear, framing your ass. Your dearest Diluc has seen you in lingerie, in lacy and fussy things that he grasps and touches and kisses over, and every time he’s stunned by them. By you.
You stand up a little straighter, pushing your tits out while chuckling softly down at your lover who can only stare for a moment before his hand wraps around your ankle, bringing his lips to kiss the front of your shin.
“Oh darling, you’re beautiful. Come here…” he breathes, stroking your ankle bone sweetly as you kneel down and his hand slides to your hip.
“You said you wanted me for your birthday, did you not?” you say softly, breath puffing shakily against his face. Diluc’s eyes are aglow with his ever ignited passion for you.
“I did, and how lucky I am to have you.” he says in return before capturing your mouth in a soft kiss.
His hand pulls at your waist, coaxing you to lay down on the blankets as he continues to kiss you. Your eyes flutter shut as he lays kisses down your throat and across your décolleté, open mouthed and wet and growing more ravenous for you as he goes. He holds himself up on an elbow, just far enough from you that his hair is down and flowing behind his shoulder and you can feel his breath on your cheek as his free hand glides across the bows on your chest. The globes of your tits are visible under the ribbons, your ribcage alight with butterflies as his fingers tug at the material.
“Unwrap me, birthday boy.” you laugh giddily, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as he does so, pulling the silky bow apart easily and exposing one of your nipples. It’s pert and achy, only growing more puffy when his hand moves to squeeze your tit and his thumb grazes roughly across it. Diluc groans deeply before he leans over you and sucks your tit into his mouth, and immediately laves over the nipple with the flat of his tongue. You keen, mouth dropping in delight as he sucks hard and releases it with a hefty pop, before nosing over to your other breast like an animal, nipping at the fatty part of your tit and goes ahead to untie that ribbon as well. He fully pushes himself over you, kissing and lapping and sucking sloppily onto your tits, your chest wet and swollen and arched every time he pinches a nipple or moans with one in his mouth.
Your thighs have been endlessly rubbing together, but now, with Dilucs wide frame settled between them, your hips seek out the hardness in his pants, erect against your inner thigh. Your hands scramble to undo his belt, Diluc suddenly aware of your fingers and the clink of his buckle. He helps instead, sitting back on his haunches and swiftly pulls his shirt from his form, bared to you all of his rugged scars and deep worn muscle, and a thatch of deep auburn down his belly. Diluc pulls the belt from their loops, watching you wiggle restlessly. Your eyes stay on the bulge of his crotch as he unbuttons his slacks and pushes his underwear down enough to fall under his ass and for his cock to fall out. It hangs between his muscular thighs from the hard and heavy weight — fat, taught balls hanging. You could scream with how badly you want him to fuck you.
Not forgetting about the sweet bow that decorates your ass, you roll yourself to your belly, your doll like lashes blinking at him over your shoulder with a playful wobble of your hips. Diluc groans your name, hunching himself over to kiss and bite at your shoulder blade. His cock grinds against your ass while his hand finds the ribbon and pulls it open, the underwear otherwise only made of that except for the amount of material to cover your mons. Your butt pushes up a little, bowing your back and your pussy puffy with want, drooling slick from Diluc’s kisses and attention to your tits. Even just seeing his freed cock made you flutter and leak. Although a gentleman, he nearly rips the underwear off your body. He then cups your cunt, middle finger prodding at your slit while you keen.
“My beautiful girl, all of this is for me, hm?” he rasps, pushing his finger all the way in to his last knuckle. He pushes and pulls it inside you before retracting his hand to use your dribbling slick to lube up his aching shaft.
“It’s no wonder I said I wanted you for my birthday.” he muses with a chuckle.
You believe him about to enter you, a soft piteous whimper as you lift your hips. But instead Diluc pulls at your waist, rolling onto your back once again. Your knees automatically fall open, butterflying out for your pussy to spread and drool, clit under its hood throbbing rapidly. Diluc crawls over you to crash his mouth against yours again, and how even in those short moments you have missed him so, missed his lips moving wildly and entrancingly until your tongue and his are nearly tangled from such vivacious kisses. Whilst kissing, he presses against your pitiful hole, yearning to suck him in. The more his tip rocks forward, the more the petals of your pussy flower open and stretch for him.
Diluc presses his forehead to yours, hips angled forward as he sinks in, every vein and ridge of his girth raking against your insides.
“My love, fuck, you were made for me. Do you hear me?”
Unused to Diluc using such filthy language, you choke on his words and the way he splits you deliciously, nodding and babbling his name as he starts a thudding rhythm of his cock punching at your insides. Diluc cradles you in his arms, kissing and swallowing in your whines and cries like you’re the most delectable of drinks that he dare not let even a drop escape — your knees drawn up and squeezing high around his waist, joined bodies a heap on the floor before the fire. Sweat dapples your bare skin as you push Diluc’s hair out of his face and cup his cheeks while his panting grows more and more frantic, hips punching upwards to feel his hefty cock at your most spongey and sensitive spot within your walls.
You know you’re going to cum — watching Diluc, who keeps his heavy gaze on you even as he licks his thumb to bring down between your legs to swipe at your clit with hard and messy strokes, fucking you as you shriek and startle at the way your orgasm crashes over you. He watches with his sweaty hair stuck to his neck, moisture dotting his hairline, as you lock up beneath him beautifully, and cum.
Your pussy clenches so hard around him that he winces — the hug of your sodden cunt keeping him from moving as wildly as he selfishly wants to, balls slapping your ass as his thrusts fade into slower, deeper ones. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you’re creaming around his cock, and when Diluc glances down to see the frothing ring around the base of him, sticky gossamer threads of your essence clinging to his pubic hair and your clit puffy, pussy split — he crumbles into your arms with a husky moan. His broad, muscular figure presses you into the blankets as his mouth groans low and ragged into your ear, his cheek pressed to yours as his hips buck sharply once, twice, three times and then his hips are so aligned with yours that you feel his cock kick over and over inside you, and the warmth of him filling you.
You’re lost beneath him, breathing heavily and muscles twitching, still feeling the dull thud of your climax between your legs. His hair flows all around you like a curtain as he shakily holds himself up so he can see your face, teary eyes and a sheepish giggle from such bliss as you pull him back for a greedy little kiss. Diluc smiles against your mouth, slowly pulling himself out of you with a moan as you whine, truly from such a loss that is his fat cock. His thick seed pools under your ass, and Diluc gazes in near awe at the gape of your pussy.
“It is your birthday you know.” you croon, blinking up at him with doe eyes that are anything but innocent, “And I am your present.”
Diluc hums in good humor, want still clawing at his chest as it always does for you, and nods his head in agreement. His cock throbs, and soaked with your combined release. A large hand comes to your hip to roll you over, and suddenly your ass is in the air, your face pressed into the blankets. You giggle in delight when you feel him hover over your back, and he whispers your name across your skin ‘till it goosebumps.
Awhile later when you’re both covered in sweat, depleted of what feels like all fluids as you shakily kiss Diluc and he strokes at your bare thigh, you grin up at him, all sleepy and full of love but still mischievous —
“So, what shall I get you for Christmas?”
Diluc laughs, undeniably and always charmed by you, his gift. He kisses your forehead as he pulls you closer,
“I think I have an idea, actually.”
♡ SUCH A CORNY ENDING HAHAHAHA! thank you for reading! please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it is very appreciated!!
Finally a hand sewing tutorial on a hemline that isn't just the ladder stitch! the ladder stitch disappears when you tighten it, but it's not meant for hemlines because it breaks really easily! The overlock stitch is more stable, so it holds much longer, and it won't pucker or warp the fabric!
when you take off your wedding ring during an argument [genshin men]
⋗ ft. alhaitham, ayato, baizhu, dottore, kaveh, pantalone, zhongli
⋗ ~0.6k | fluffy angst | gn!reader
Alhaitham
“-what does that have to do with the issue at hand?” Alhaitham breaks off his sentence in the middle, his eyes narrowing. And right now, you have half a mind to believe it’s only because he’s mad he didn’t finish his thought.
The ring sits heavy in your palm; the weight of the promises it symbolizes. The memories of you and him. He stares at the band in your hand, his thumb touching the matching ring on his own finger. For a moment you feel like he might take it off too, despite how out of character that would be for him, and your heart feels like it’s gonna crumble on itself. You bite your lip.
“Do you need a moment?” he asks in a tone much softer. For the first time since you began fighting his voice isn’t the same as it always is.
“Yeah,” you admit. More words form and die on your tongue. You don’t even know where to begin - to spill your arguments now that you have the chance, or apologize? Part of you just wants to scream and cry.
Alhaitham gives you space. You can hear him in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of water, while you sit down in the armchair and stare at the ring still in your palm. You forgot what it looks like removed from your finger. It looks so foreign, and not in a good way. You slowly slip it back on your finger. There’s guilt gnawing at your conscience. You shouldn’t have done that.
And so you stand up and join him in the kitchen. Before you can speak, he slides a glass of water towards you. Maybe the fight was pointless. Just a little bit. You drink the whole thing.
“Better now?” he asks, voice still careful. You nod. The lump in your throat only dissolves when you see the ring securely on his finger. It seems he looks for yours too. “Do you want to continue discussing that?”
You need to remind yourself that this is Alhaitham. He’s only asking. He’s not mocking you, not blaming you.
“No,” you shake your head. You put the glass back on the table, rounding it to stand closer to him.
“I explained my side,” he says, but he doesn’t push, “It’s more productive if you tell me what you think now.”
You suppose it would be. You know it would be. He’s right like he always is.
“Can we revisit it later?” you suggest, “It… I feel tired.”
It’s almost hesitant, the way he nods and opens his arms for you to walk into. Still you do, without question. The longer he holds you, the more you think about whether the fight was worth it. Was this really that important to you? Was he so mean that you had to do that?
Your thoughts are brought to a standstill by a hand prying yours away from his chest. Unsurprisingly, it’s just him. Just Alhaitham taking your hand, intertwining your fingers and resting your hands above his beating heart. Your rings press against each other. It’s not much of a difference, but you feel him relax. His eyes reflect on the shiny surface of the rings. You’ve never seen him look so relieved, and you don’t think it’s the metal distorting the image.
After a brief hesitation, you look up. Nothing changes, Alhaitham looks exactly like his reflection on the silver mirror. His thumb strokes the side of your hand.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you say quietly.
“I’m not letting you,” he smiles, careful. But the smile can’t hide how serious he is - not that you’d want it any other way.
Ayato
How can he just stand there? Calm, impassive, as if this was just another diplomatic negotiation. Perhaps it is, perhaps you should think about it that way too but-
“I’d think about that some more,” Ayato’s voice raises, “If I were you.”
You should. You definitely should. But him pointing it out makes you not want to, gets on your last nerve and so your fingers wrap around the band on your finger and tug- Try to.
There’s a patient hand, though really not so patient now, preventing you from moving. His touch isn’t rough, but it certainly isn’t the gentle, reverent touch you’re used to. How did he get to you so fast, you have no idea, or why it feels like there’s nothing you can do to break free from his touch. The candlelight paints shadows that make it feel like he’s towering over you.
“I know you’re upset, my love,” he speaks slowly, not much of a difference from how he’s been talking the whole night but there is a barely noticeable strain to his voice that makes you reel in any attempts at pulling your hand away from him, “But what you’re about to do is playing dirty. And you know I’m more than capable of stooping to that level too.”
You swallow. Of course he is. And he’s not threatening you, you know, not yet. He only reminds you, you think, of the previous times where he didn’t play fair in way less serious situations, where even playful teasing ended up hurting you. Though naturally, it wounds him too to cause you pain. You don’t want to force his hand.
“I’m sorry,” you say, then quickly add - albeit softer: “For this, I mean.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I wouldn’t get the wrong idea,” he chuckles. Before he frees your hand, he brings it to his lips to kiss just above the ring.
Yet he doesn’t let you go. Instead of your hand, he now holds your waist. It’s grounding, both his embrace and his proximity. Maybe this whole argument getting so severe could be avoided if you talked like this. You can dream.
“It seems to me we won’t reach an agreement,” Ayato sighs.
“No,” you admit as much as you don’t wish to. Unresolved conflict only means repetition later on, in some form. “Not with the way things are.”
You let him wind his arm around your waist and bring you closer. You, too, embrace him, resting your head on his shoulder. The argument exhausted you.
“Then we both need to put in more work,” he hums, “And continue at a later time.”
Maybe. It’s the only thing you can do, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it. Perhaps you should go pray, there must be someone who could grant you both what you want without the other losing their chance. He’d laugh if you suggested it, though.
“I hate how efficient you are,” you let go of your final grievance for the night, making him chuckle.
“Years of experience, darling,” he reminds you, “With higher stakes - which of course doesn’t mean I’m calling our marriage insignificant.”
You only roll your eyes but nod. You know that’s not his intention. He’s right anyway, and to some extent you’re glad he can remain stable and unshakeable like this. Being able to always depend on him, that’s one of the reasons you married him in the first place, after all.
“But I must say,” he murmurs into your hair, “I’ve never been threatened so violently before.”
You laugh and shake your head.
“No sword, no polearm or a bow is as scary as seeing you without your ring, my dear,” he whispers, “Believe it or not.”
Baizhu
“What are you doing?” his voice cuts through the air. Amber eyes staring at you, wide and afraid, eyebrows furrowed and his lips twisted downwards.
You hold the ring in your palm, your gaze dropping to the band like you need to make sure you really did that. But you did and now Baizhu is crossing the room to cradle your hands in his.
“What do you mean by this?” his chest is still heaving but at least his voice drops into something softer again.
“We should stop,” you lick your lips, your attention is split between the warm ring and his cold hands, “We’re just talking in circles.”
He takes a deep breath, lets it go again. His touch is so careful, even though he keeps distance between you. His gaze slowly seems to be warming up too the longer you silently stare at each other.
“Life’s too fragile to keep fighting,” Baizhu murmurs. Tension still holds his body in its grip. At the same time he looks like he really wants to let go.
“But this is really important to both of us,” you remind him, “Or we’d be better at making a compromise.”
He seems torn. Stuck between wanting to argue his point and dismissing the argument. It’d be easier to pretend nothing happened, but the core of the issue would just loom over your heads. He doesn’t come closer but his thumbs stroke the sides of your hands.
“We shouldn’t be together right now,” he sighs eventually. You nod. The pain in his eyes reflects your own.
“Stay here,” he suggests, cautiously, “I’ll go - but I’ll come back, okay?”
And so it’s agreed. You sit by the open window for the most part, taking deep breaths of the cool air in hopes it’ll clear your mind - it does. What it doesn’t do is magically give you a revelation as to what would be the perfect solution in this situation. Your anger ebbs and flows, even though it’s no longer directed primarily at your husband, more so at the circumstances.
And by the looks of it, Baizhu fares no better than you. He looks disheveled, as if he ran his hand through his hair the whole time he was out. Even his braid looks horrible, clearly having taken the most abuse.
Baizhu kneels next to your chair, easily intertwining your hands once more when you offer. With his other hand he reaches up to cup your face. You’re tired, you’re angry and you’re sad. You let him touch you, leaning into the familiar comfort.
“I’m gonna take the couch today,” you inform him. There’s no malice in your voice, only the silent understanding passes between you - you both still need time.
“I should be the one-”
“Let me,” you shake your head. You push some of his hair away from his face. “You take the bed and I’ll put the ring back on.”
He huffs, incredulous, before his lips settle on a softer smile.
“That’s a strong bargaining chip, are you sure you want to use it this way?” his thumb strokes your cheek.
“Mhm,” you give him a weak smile too, “You already know I’m yours.”
He nods. His eyes fall to your lips before he, sadly, looks away. Now it’s your turn to make him face you with a gentle touch to his jaw. Your lips meet slowly, first a hesitant brush, then they melt together like it’s the first time. Baizhu soaks up the contact, drinking the reassurance from your lips. You think you could be convinced to forget everything, if only for the night.
“We’ll figure this out,” he promises, then he adds after some hesitation: “Together.”
And really, that’s all you’re asking. So you let him take your hand and guide you to the bedroom. Then you let him slide the ring back onto your finger.
Dottore
The ring slips off your finger to the very last digit, as if giving you time to reconsider. Dottore watches the action intently. Nonetheless, his words only stop once he’s finished his sentence - that, too, as if it was your chance at redemption. Despite the mask shielding his eyes, you can feel his gaze on you and swallow heavily. As passionate as he was about presenting his arguments, the energy is gone now, turned into cold tension.
You hesitate, the ring still gingerly held between the fingers of your other hand. Dottore doesn’t move, tense and silent, observing your next step. He doesn’t say a word. And in the wordless face off, you understand - he would let you make this choice. He won’t say he wants you to stay and put the ring back on. Sometimes you have to do the work for both of you. Your ego is not more important than him.
It takes effort to make a step forward. The fists at his side clench but he makes no move to stop you, his silence remains deafeningly loud. You walk on until you stand before him and offer him your hand, ring dangling on the tip of your finger. The mask allows him a lot of anonymity. He tilts his head, the lower half of his face offers no hints as to what’s going on inside his head.
“That was very irrational,” you admit quietly, “A lapse of judgement.”
“What do you want me to do about it?” he scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. You don’t pull your hand back. “I have no use for an unwilling partner. I believe I made myself clear about only giving one chance.”
He waves you off, disinterested. Even so, he purposefully moves in a way that won’t remove the ring barely balanced at the tip of your finger.
“Did I catch you off guard, doctor?” you ask, “Do we have no further use for each other? Is that what this is about?”
Dottore bristles. Perhaps it’s pointless, as he warned you it is, to attempt to persuade him that a relationship can work even if the parties have no vital need for each other.
“I need you,” you whisper, little more than a breath, “Why stall? If you had no need for me at all, you would take the ring back already.”
It might be a trick of the light, the moment it seems like he wants to say something. He doesn’t. Instead, he grabs your hand rather roughly and shoves the ring back down your finger. He doesn’t let go.
“So stubborn,” he growls, “Inefficient. If you just-”
“You don’t need me for the experiment to progress,” you sigh, “Why get upset with me beyond the way in which I wronged you?”
His grip tightens. His jaw is set, which is about all you can read in his face. From the tilt of his mask and his fingers lingering by the band now securely around your finger, however, you can guess where he’s looking.
“Have you never doubted your decision? I should be allowed to make the same mistake,” you reason. He scoffs.
“Mistake?” he mocks, then he huffs, “Perhaps.”
He swipes his thumb over the ring. His own rest hidden inside his breastpocket for safety. Not that it matters - it’s more important that his claim on you is clear for all to see. Above all - for him, Dottore himself, to see. As if the intricacies binding you together were not enough.
“I should find a more permanent way of branding you,” he mutters. No attempt to hide it. No need for the mask either - now you know well that’s looking at you, studying you.
You just smile.
Kaveh
You can barely see what you’re doing but you feel the empty space immediately, and perhaps more so the painful void inside your chest than the cold air on your finger.
The room goes deadly silent. Kaveh stares at you, speechless. His mouth opens and closes like fish out of water. A thousand different emotions flash across his face before they settle on anger.
“Fine,” he scoffs, “Fine, go on then!”
He’s supposed to be furious. Why does he look like a cornered dog? Too scared to see through his fears. You blink and the anger turns into hurt, as if he wore nothing else on his face before. It breaks something inside of you. He’s not fully sober, he’s not thinking rationally, the whole fight got blown out of proportion-
You jump when something lands somewhere in front of you and rolls away. His own ring.
“I won’t hold you back!” he keeps screaming even as he falls to his knees. He looks like he can’t believe what he’s done, what he said. Your heart breaks but… this is just too much. And you’re in the wrong too, you have no right to be upset with him - you took off your ring first. But it’s too much.
So you ignore him when he starts crawling forward to look for his ring. And because you’re hurting and emotions are high, you drop your ring too. The search should entertain him for long enough that you both cool down, you could take a walk-
You don’t get the chance. And maybe you should’ve expected it.
“Kaveh…” you sigh.
Looking down, you see exactly what you thought you would. It doesn’t matter, your heart still clenches painfully. His eyes glisten with unshed moisture, his cheeks burn red. His face is twisted in agony, suffering which only you may free him from. He’s holding onto your leg like a lifeline, clawing at your clothes to make you stay.
With another long exhale, your frustration dissipates into nothingness. Your hand falls to the top of his head, pushing his hair away from his face. He leans into your touch like a cat.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, looking much more sober now, “I’m so sorry. Please don’t go.”
Words would be pointless. They’re cheap and without substance Kaveh could latch onto. He rests his head against your thigh while you slowly keep combing your fingers through his hair.
“Let’s look for them together, hm?” you suggest eventually as you get down on the floor with him. He furiously nods his head.
It’s easier than you thought it’d be, with the light catching on the metal and guiding you to the discarded bands like the stars guide ships at the sea. Even so, Kaveh keeps looking your way as if still scared you’ll leave. The fear remains despite both rings resting in his palm, it lingers after you put them back on with shaky hands. Not long after you find yourself looking up at the ceiling.
“Please don’t leave,” Kaveh mumbles into the crook of your neck, lying on top of you after tackling you to the ground, “I’m sorry, I’m-”
“I’m sorry too,” you stop him from the inevitable self-depreciating rant. You hold him closer. “Let’s talk about it again after we get some sleep.”
It’s so easy to get him to agree. He always insisted that the bed you share is his only safe space, a sacred space he never brings work to. He sinks into the mattress with you, more like a snake than you ever imagined was possible for a human being. Sleep evades you. Kaveh holds you so tight it’s hard to breathe. You can’t say you mind, though.
Pantalone
The world narrows down to this moment - his office, his biting remarks, your voice hoarse after hours of this. Nothing else exists. Nothing beyond this room. And then Pantalone says another hurtful thing and you’ve just about had it. The ring tries to stick to your finger, truly it does. But you’re stubborn.
And then the click of safety being dislodged, the pull of a trigger - not enough to make the gun aimed in your direction shoot but close - rings through the room in the sudden deep silence.
You freeze, staring at him not quite in disbelief, but in cold clarity of what happened, the whole sequence of events. His usual mask is already back in place.
“Now now, be careful with that ring,” he says smiling. That calm, deceptive smile that fools nobody that ever made the mistake at displeasing him. Your palms start to sweat, goosebumps rise over your body. You think your body starts trembling. “It might be your only chance at survival should you leave, to sell it.”
Pantalone comes closer, quiet, slow strides. His hand cups your jaw to tilt your face towards him, holding you in place. Apparently, he needs to work on his temper and you need to work on your survival instinct.
“No pawnshop will buy it,” you argue. Because what else are you supposed to do than submit to him fully, to admit his full control over your life. You messed up, and Feofan is not a man easily placated. “And anyone foolish enough to want to buy it won’t have enough mora to do so.”
He smiles, looking almost proud as he leans closer to you. “And why is that?”
“Because only the smart survive, get rich and stay in business,” you answer, “And because they’re smart, they’ll recognize the ring. And they’ll know that you’d come for it. And that you’d make sure the word doesn’t get out and that there’s no witness.”
Pantalone looks most pleased, closing the distance between you to rub your noses together.
“Very good,” he murmurs, “So how about you make sure the ring is safe on your finger, hm?”
You don’t acknowledge the threat to you. That was only to be expected. You wounded him, or at least upset him, destabilized a favourable situation that is your relationship; naturally he’d lash out. You know better than most. The ring feels heavy on your finger. Less like a ball and chain locked around your ankle, more like a heavy winter coat around your shoulder.
Feofan can be incredibly sweet and attentive to those he cares for. He is. Unless given a reason not to be.
“There we go,” he whispers. Some of his smile is genuine, which is a relief.
He’s about to pull away but you’re quicker. It doesn’t matter much, whether he stays or not is entirely up to him. For a moment you don’t think he will, considering how coldly he regards your hand tugging on his sleeve. Then he indulges you, allowing you to even put his hands on your waist.
“I hurt you with my words,” he states, licking his lips. The haze of the argument must’ve left his mind. “I apologize.”
“I also apologize,” you sigh, “I shouldn’t have done that. You know how to be incredibly infuriating and I never know how to stop you and then act out of line.”
He chuckles, kissing the top of your head. “Yet you’re forgiven. A benevolent lover, am I not?”
You agree, with reluctance that remains privy only to you. Feofan knows how to be very benevolent, yet unapologetically cruel at the same time. You, at least, are protected by his fondness for you. Still you think you’d rather pamper him for a while, to make him forget your mistake.
Zhongli
You’d maybe prefer if Zhongli showed his emotions more. You’d perhaps appreciate more if he looked as worked up as you. This is going nowhere and it’s frustrating, he’s frustrating-
“Do it and you’ll have to face punishment,” he says, sternly, impatiently. Exactly the way you hoped he’d talk ever since your blood started boiling. Yet now you completely disregard his tone for sake of what he’s saying, or rather - those words with that tone make you forget what you were doing in the first place.
He closes the distance between you swiftly and you all but shiver when he takes your hand into his. However, his mood changes rapidly the moment his fingers brush the ring halfway down your finger. Zhongli’s very good at hiding his emotions, but when he lets them show, they’re painfully clear. And now the remorse consumes him completely.
“I didn’t mean to upset you so,” he murmurs, stroking over the ring now safely in its usual place, “I apologize.”
You take a deep breath, exhale slowly. He means it, of course he does, sometimes your tempers just don’t match well.
“I’m sorry too,” you mumble, then you swallow, “What did you mean earlier though, by the punishment…?”
You know better than to genuinely think Zhongli was suggesting what your body clearly seems to think, or maybe even hope for.
“We signed the certificates,” he says, slowly, almost carefully, the tone you know well because that’s how he always says what he’s half-certain might be upsetting to you without fully comprehending why, “Marriage is basically a contr-”
“Zhongli, I swear, if you call our marriage a contract I am resigning from it,” you sigh. Exhausted by the revelation so much that you can’t even get mad, let alone think about what you were fighting about in the first place, you let your forehead fall against his shoulder. He freezes for a moment in a silent contemplation.
“I don’t think of our relationship as a contractual obligation-”
“Zhongli, I know you think that’s comforting but please be quiet,” you stop him before he can get the rest of the explanation out.
“I love you,” he chuckles, settling for the safe option.
“I love you too,” you accept, a small smile blooming on your lips, “But don’t ever call our marriage that.”
He nods against your head, his arms wrapping around your waist. He holds you closer, rubbing circles into the small of your back. How easily does he undo you with his words - how easily you undo a god. With nothing but a simple mistake in the heights of emotion.
“I wasn’t planning to leave,” you mumble into his shoulder, “I was just so frustrated.”
He makes a small noise of acknowledgement. The longer he holds you, the more you feel like you’ve both calmed down. The golden light of the late afternoon casts a warm glow around the room.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he says, slowly, as if each word was hard to spell out, “I don’t like the idea of you leaving… our home, and me.”
His hand finds yours, squeezing, tracing the ring again. You have to appreciate he made the effort to not say breaking the contract. You reward him with a chaste kiss to his cheek.
“I don’t plan to,” you pull away enough to meet his eyes, “We swore until death do us apart, didn’t we? I’m keeping that promise.”
Zhongli cups your face, his thumb strokes your cheek. You close your eyes when he leans in. The kiss is enough, the tenderness of his touch. The god of contracts made his vow to you, he wouldn’t dream of breaking it.
So I have a request if it’s alright with you of zhongli x phoenix reader since zhongli is a dragon right and there’s a lot of story’s apparently about a dragon and phoenix being a perfect match and I don’t know if this is true or not they represent Yin and Yang
𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐮𝐬
A/N: I think I might make a continuation of this or something. I just love this idea, thanks for this, Anon! I did change Reader’s animal form from a phoenix to fenghuang since I feel is more fitting, so apologies for not meeting your exact request. And I’m also sorry for this ridiculously long wait, uni has been a pain. I don’t know how I feel about this piece, but I’ve kept it for months already and I think it’s well enough to post.
Fandom(s): Genshin Impact
Zhongli x (Adeptus)Wife Fem Reader
Summary: With the longest lasting relationship in all of Teyvat history, the union of Rex Lapis and Regina Lux is widely celebrated and respected across the seven nation than just Liyue. Even living as mortals now, your love remains, in story and present.
One-shot
Content: Reader is an adeptus fenghuang/phoenix sometimes mistaken for a firebird phoenix, romance, fluff, domesticity, Liyue Archon Quest, Liyue lore, Soft Zhongli, Retired/former Archon Zhongli, married Zhongli/Reader.
Warnings: None.
Main List | 𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | AO3
Feeling the familiar stir of your rousing consciousness, you sensed the familiar touch of a hand caressing your head. Gently stroking your locks of hairs before rubbing a thumb against your cheek.
Blinking your eyes open, you’re greeted with the familiar face of your husband staring back at you, warmth and adoration in his gold eyes. The corners of his lips rising a little upwards. He always seems to look at you as if you were the most ethereal thing on this planet after all these years together. But you knew that if he were asked that very question, that was already going to be his answer.
“Good morning, my love.” Morax, now Zhongli, softly greeted, voice calm and deep. He pushed a stray hair strand away from your face.
Usually sleeping shirtless, the real colors of his arms were out in the open. A gradient of pitch black from his shoulders to a light tint of gold from his hands, some black scales peeking out. The gold symbol rune lines trailing over his whole arms gave a faint glimmer amidst the dim darkness of your shared bedroom. Or more like nest, where an abundance of pillows and blankets and a mattress as a base were scattered about that looked more like a makeshift nest than a typical bed.
Although he sticks to wearing gloves and long sleeves, Zhongli still finds it nice to have them off, which revealed his gold markings. Visible proof of his godly identity. You liked to trace them with your own hands, twinkling cosmic irises admiring their details.
“Mm, morning..” you sigh, moving to huddle closer to his body.
Zhongli welcomes your presence automatically. Wrapping his arms around your waist loosely as you’re pressed against his chest. Typically preferring to wear his own dress shirts to sleep, as they were big enough to be nightgowns on you. You commonly wore them when you were able to stay at home with your husband.
Zhongli lets out a deep purr within his chest, a sound that came straight from a beast, but its tone calmer rather than aggressive or of warning. He always adored when you’d wear his shirts, the dragon side of him pleased to have you basked in a mix of both your scents and the statement that you were his. His lover, his wife. His one and only mate.
A purr of your own responded back, soft and gentle. A different contrast to his more deeply masculine one.
Being an adventurer for the Adventurer’s Guild meant always traveling somewhere. Which can also be unpredictable about where you’re going to with commissions. Though it was possible to make a request for more local locations. Even as an adeptus posing as a human, you had to blend in with the habits of a mortal.
Of course, Zhongli welcomely offers his own assistance to accompany you when he was available. Another way to spend time with you.
Your husband hugs you a little tighter as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Brushing through your locks of hair and playing with some of the coloured streaks. “Shall we get ready for the day, little mate? We have time to spend together before I must meet with the Traveler in the afternoon.”
It was an endearing nickname he gave you all those centuries ago, with the size difference between you. Though not by vast amount, it was clear in any form your husband’s height was more than yours.
You hum in response, “I suppose we should..” you snuggle closer, taking in his warmth and his familiar scent that completely relaxes you. “I do prefer when we get ready together.”
Zhongli smiles so softly, “You had been away for quite awhile, and I am always affected by your absence.“
A small giggle escapes you, “I came back in time before the Rite of Descension, Mora. Especially to return your Gnosis.“
For a certain period of time, your husband gave his Gnosis to you for safekeeping. Even though he was fully capable of taking care of it himself, for who else would be able to steal from the Warrior God and eldest of The Seven. Though it wouldn’t be so hard to believe the Fatui could try something, their Archon made a contract with the god of contracts. He handed you the chest piece shaped power object to look after in his stead as another gesture of his unwavering trust in you.
You knew already that he trusted you without hesitation, but it was thoughtful nonetheless. Like how going on dates, giving gifts, and doting on a lover were among a list of acts in a loving relationship. To the both of you, this was just one of them.
“Yes, but you should already know, beloved, that when you must leave my side, I miss you every one of those times.”
Now a tint of pink blooms over your cheeks. Honestly, this man never fails to turn you into a blushing new bride all over again. Just like all those centuries ago when your Zhongli began to court you.
“And what is this old dragon to do without his beautiful fenghuang to complete him as his other half?” he chuckles.
“Maybe miss out on something meaningful.” you playfully teased before replying back “I always miss you when we’re apart, too.” and nuzzled his neck. “There’s no better company in this world than yours.”
Your husband looks on with adoration, giving you a light squeeze. “I can’t agree more, my wife. You have always been my blessing.“
The rosy color on your face didn’t escape Zhongli, who chuckles, a sound melodic and soothing. He had a habit of saying that. It was a common remark to describe you all those years ago by the mortals. Being referred to as such without personal connection left you indifferent towards it mostly. Which then changed when Zhongli courted you, and your relationship developed more intimately.
“Should I help style your hair, darling?” he caresses your locks spreading across your pillow. The little few coloured highlights flowing down visibly.
“You know I enjoy it when you do.” you kiss his jaw.
Walking around Liyue Harbor with arms locked together, you and Zhongli strolled over the lively bustling city, browsing over the stands and products of merchants and customers.
Before, the two of you were having breakfast in your own adeptal abode, taking in the scenery of the simulated sky, the ginkgo trees, and the lush green grass. And considering it was just the two of you alone, away from prying eyes, Zhongli guided you to sit on his lap, taking the one seat with a table of some Liyue dishes.
He had a habit of holding you close in private. Which came with the territory of having a relationship during a dominating war between gods. In all the tragedies and conflicts that passed for such long lifespans for both of you, holding each other was grounding, comforting, and reassuring.
“I wonder if the people will continue to celebrate our anniversary now that we’re gone.” you mused, fiddling with your marriage rings on your finger as your arms are between your husband’s from holding it. Sparkling starry eyes admiring some of the city’s traditional decor displaying the dragon and the fenghuang. The nation’s symbol of harmony.
“Lapis Lux is one of Liyue’s biggest festivals that predates even Lantern Rite. The celebration of the longest lasting love between us and inspiration for the people.” replied Zhongli, resting his bigger hand on top of your smaller one, where your glittering rings were worn. “With such a large influence to known to the other nations of Teyvat as well, such a holiday could never be dismissed.”
“Hm, that’s true.” you lean your head against his arm warmly.
Zhongli gives a chaste kiss to your temple, his own gaze drifting to the dragon and fenghuang symbols. He could tire of seeing them. “How does flying together sound after dinner, my Qingxin? Once I’ve settled my errands for today. We haven’t done that for some time.”
You perk up at that, flying together was always an activity you two loved doing since the beginning of your relationship. And while flying out in the open wasn’t option anymore after stepping down from godhood, you still had room to privately fly in your own sub-space home.
“Yes.” you smile. “I’ve missed those recently. We’ve both been a little busy. Speaking of…” you trail off, curious. “How goes the funeral planning? I’m sure you’ve been having a fun time, darling.”
It was ironically humorous and perhaps morbid to have the deceased be the one to plan their own funeral ceremony after all.
Zhongli’s amber eyes gleam with a hint of amusement and seriousness. “It’s been going smoothly. The Traveler has been a kind aid.”
The brunette had informed you of his own meeting with the Traveler and his floating companion as you talked about your latest visit to Mondstadt. Soon, it would be time to meet the Traveler again at Third-Round Knockout after previously settling things at Bubu Pharmacy.
You both did separate for a time for Zhongli to plan the Rite of Parting as part of his own occupation and duty.
“Well, it couldn’t have been easy for him. The Archon he had planned to meet next ended up dead before him the second he arrived.” you mused.
“Yes, while I do feel it unfortunate for him, the time for our departure from our posts had no better timing than now.” he replied. “After all, how dare the Geo Archon perish and leave his wife a widow? It goes against the very vows of their union. The most sacred of all of Rex Lapis’ contracts is with Regina Lux.”
Zhongli gazes at you with humour evident on his face. A teasing smile on his lips. “The whole of Teyvat may smite my spirit for such grievance.”
You gave a small laugh, “Of course, how could he?”
The performance of making both of your deaths in front of a crowd believable was a… unique experience. It went without saying that when Zhongli decided to retire his Archon role, he couldn’t leave you behind, especially to deal with the aftermath of the people’s attention on you because of it.
The Rite of Descension came with Rex Lapis descending upon his people for his divine predictions, while Regina Lux accompanied him with divine counsel for Liyue’s governing structure and measuring of time, seasons. Both greatly respected by their people for their eye for strategy.
And as your husband said, you both made a vow to be at each other’s sides no matter the unexpected circumstances. As the ultimate contract between you, in a mix of desire and responsibility.
“Hey, look!” Paimon says as she and Aether stopped on one of their walks in Liyue Harbor to meet with Zhongli when they spotted you together. “It’s (Y/N)! We only ran into her once in Liyue. And she’s with… Zhongli? Is Paimon seeing what you’re seeing..?” she blinked in confusion and surprise.
Aether gave a similar expression before calmly thinking aloud, “To be so close to each other like that.. Does that mean the spouses they mentioned to us before was each other all along..?”
“Let’s go ask! Paimon wants to know!” she urged with curiosity.
Hearing a familiar voice call out to you both, you turn to be greeted by the Traveler and his floating travel guide.
“Oh, hello Traveler, Paimon.” you casually greet with an easy smile. “It’s good to see you again.”
You first met the traveling pair at the Adventurers’ Guild back in Mondstadt. Recognized as a famous adventurer across the seven nations, your job naturally consisted of going to different places. The three of you made friendly conversation and good terms.
On your last day in the city, you spoke to the pair in meeting again in Liyue. You did run into them as you said when they came for the Rite of Descension, but hadn’t seen them afterwards until now.
Paimon only made a gawking face as she darted eyes between you and Zhongli. Mind still processing.
“Hi, (Y/N). We were about to meet up with Zhongli at Third-Round Knockout.” the blond reciprocated casually, unlike his pixie guide. Aether eyed the wedding rings on both of your left hands intriguingly. It very much complimented each other. Even the designs of your outfits bore similarities side by side, yet individually different; like your color palettes.
“That’s right, it was about that time.” Zhongli responds, hand on his chin.
“Wait-wait-wait! Hold on a second!” Paimon exclaimed with a wave of her arms. “The two of you are married to each other?!”
Your husband was unfazed as he answered her. “Why, yes. We’ve been married for a very long time now.”
Paimon seemed to finally calm down after the surprising fact. “When you guys were talking about being married, we didn’t think it was between each other!” she scratches her head. “And to think that we already met you both without realizing… Talk about a coincidence..”
You and Zhongli look at each other before lightly chuckling.
“Yes, that’s true.” you agreed. “It wasn’t meant to be a secret or anything. But it is a funny correlation.”
You smiled at them, “I also appreciate you helping my husband for the Rite of Descension. It’s a big task to handle alone, especially now.”
“Oh, we don’t mind.” she shakes her head. “It works out for all of us.” she then mumbles to herself, “Guess we know who does the finance in this marriage...”
“Paimon.” Aether lightly scolds.
Paimon immediately tries to correct her words, apologizing for running her mouth like that.
You only chuckle a little at her, Zhongli wasn’t offended and merely brushes it off, “In any case, since we’ve run into each other, why don’t we head to Third-Round Knockout now?”
You then let go of your husband’s arm, much to both of your reluctance. “That’s my cue then. I should be taking my leave anyhow. I have something to discuss with the Branch Master at the Adventurer’s Guild.”
“Sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt you.” apologized Aether, sheepish.
“It’s no problem.” you dismiss, unperturbed.
“I will see you in the evening, then, my dear.” Zhongli kisses your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.
“Mhm, see you.” you hum softly, squeezing his own hand before walking off, the long hem of the back of your Liyuen dress fluttering behind you.
Staring off after you for a moment, the ex-Archon turns his attention to the traveling pair; who tried to adjust to this sudden smitten side of him. “Let’s go then, shall we?”
Standing beside each other hand in hand again, you and Zhongli both watched down at the harbor as Osial, an old foe, rose from the waters, letting out a fierce roar echoing in the skies.
The Jade Chamber flew to the serpent god as the adepti and the mortals gathered.
together to stop him. Along with the Traveler’s aid.
“Now the real test begins…” you mutter, grasping Zhongli’s hand firmly.
“So it has…” he quietly replies. He then turns to you, “Although I’m confident in Liyue’s own strength, whatever happens from here on out, I’m happy to have experienced this mortal life with you.”
You smile at him lovingly, “For me, too. No matter what, I’m with you to the end.”
Zhongli brings you to his side, wrapping an arm around your back as you both observed the fight unfold.
When Osial was defeated and sealed away once again, proving Liyue’s independent perseverance. You and Zhongli were able to fully let go of your godly lives to mortal ones.
And when Zhongli went alone to Northland Bank to keep his end of the contract with the Tsaritsa for his Gnosis, Aether and Paimon had to adjust to the other surprising fact about your identity once realizing who Zhongli really was.
If Morax was said to truly be devoted to his wife, then there was no conceivable way he’d be with another. There wouldn’t be anyone else more committed to the contract of marriage than the god of contracts himself with the god of light, Alloces.
How, as the two gods fell from the sky to their end, their bodies twisted around each other in an interlocking embrace. Where the Lord of Geo held his beloved protectively even after their vessels were deprived of their divine souls.
You recalled when speaking with Cloud Retainer from a recent visit how Paimon had vocally mistaken you for a phoenix. With your adeptus form being a bigger bird from Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper’s, your bird form lightly glowed with the colour of gold and sunlight, end feathers shimmering like gold mist, some of your multicoloured hair streaks as feathers of red, blue, and green.
The female crane adeptus made a huff of disapproval at the mixup, wondering how many others outside Liyue would always make the misconception and ignorance of the spouse of the only married Archon, the only other god to rule Liyue alongside Rex Lapis being a phoenix. It humoured and intrigued you of this myth some people mistakenly believed.
While it was appreciable to see an old friend and attendant be of defence in your honour, there was amusement in seeing Cloud Retainer’s reaction to it.
There was also the small irony that you carried a fake Pyro Vision on you to blend in. You didn’t actually have the same compatibility to it like your husband, the master of his element, but your power and magic abilities could make them appear pyro.
Zhongli had suggested you could try Geo, but you thought it interesting to be of a different element from him.
“One would think after so many years has passed, the mortals would come to understand the keen difference between a phoenix and a fenghuang.” she says with disappointment. “Especially to the being who taught them the teachings and ways of the stars and light, who brought prosperity and counseling of Rex Lapis’s ascension as one of The Seven. Including the perfect example of marital union! Honestly, the ignorance..!”
“It’s all right, Cloud Retainer.” you assured. “They don’t mean harm or malice by it.”
“While that is true, your leniency is what truly comes out most, Regina Lux.” she responds.
“Well, it wasn’t something I had to worry about. And it’s not a common misunderstanding.” you take a sip of the teacup presented to you. “In any case, with the Qixing, Liyue may turn out just fine.”
Cloud Retainer shifts her gaze to the sky, still begrudging. “If it by your words, may your judgment be sound, Regina Lux.”
“You are not from this land.” A deep male voice spoke a few feet away from you.
Calmly turning your head, you look to see a man who was clearly not mortal. You immediately knew who he was, his reputation and appearance easily recognizable. A white hood over his head, gold rune patterns decorating his arms that traced as veins to gold coloured hands, dressed in interesting garments. In your observation, it glowed and symbolized power.
You meet his golden gaze with your starry ones. “No, I am not. Merely here to view the scenery in front of me.”
He tilts his head a little, gold eyes intense as he searches for anything to be wary of, the eyes of a beast. “Is passing through another deity’s territory common for you?”
“By harmless means, I bear no motive but to cross the lands soundly.”
The deity stares at you contemplatively, tone mildly rumbling and brutish. “Hm, you should exercise more caution next time, a god’s reaction is unpredictable with unfamiliar faces of another.”
“Fair enough.” You stand from your seat from the view of the sky and mountains. “Shall I not disturb you any longer, Lord of Geo? I am not ignorant of your strength.”
His eyes turned half-lidded as he took in the likeness of the night in your irises, “You are aware of me as I am of you, Lady of Light. A being untethered of followers, roaming over the lands. But never claiming, your presence doesn’t deter me.”
“Then I may continue watching the landscape from here?”
“I—”
“As I thought, you were here, beloved.” Zhongli’s voice calmly spoke from behind you.
Turning your head, you looked back to see your husband making his way towards with a sweet smile on his lips.
The hand that was playing with the rectangular diamond shaped Cor Lapis gem hung on the bottom front of your elegantly designed chocker now rested on your lap. The Qingxins around you lightly glowing white from its petals under the moon, blooming in full.
“Hehe, you know me so well.” you say in light amusement, looking fondly at him as he comes to sit beside you.
You both occasionally went to a cliff to gaze down at Liyue Harbor, like spectators of an artwork. Watching from afar to the pleasant view of the busy and prosperous city. Sightseeing from far away to look at how far Liyue had come to be what it is. How both of your guidances and co-rulership led to this nation of prosperity.
“Came to join me, did you?” you tilt your head playfully.
“Naturally so,” he wrapped an arm around you to rest on his side, moving the other to grasp the hand on your lap. “I was deprived of your touch.”
You smile, feeling serene and content as you snuggled into him more, head resting under his chin. “Better now?”
Zhongli hums, “Very much so, but don’t think I’ll be letting go now, dearest.”
A small laugh escapes you, “Oh, I know.”
Taking some moments of silence, the both of you watched Liyue. How the city lights glowed in the night sky, the peaceful atmosphere around you, it was everything you had hoped it would all be.
Taking a breath to sigh, you’re mildly surprised to feel the familiar trace of Zhongli’s hand brushing your cheek before you noticed him tucking a Qingxin flower into your hair, breezing pass one of your dangling noctilucous jade earrings.
Glaze Lilies were known to be a national flower of Liyue, for its appeasement to song and moon, regional from the land. You always had an affinity with Qungxins among the nation’s flora. While Glaze Lilies could be resided in fields where domestic ones were gardened by people, you found interest in Qingxins locating on cliffs and mountain tops. Like they were trying to reach the sky and view the land below.
Though you found numerous flowers across the seven nations to be just as wondrous. As someone who used to travel place to place without your own territory, your journeying spirit never left. After settling down from your marriage with Morax for the past thousands of years, becoming an adventurer as a mortal brought back this old side of you. But nothing beats the domesticity of marriage with your husband and the land you looked after together.
“You are radiant, baobei…” the ex-Archon gently spoke, lightly touching the intricate hairpin attached to your half-up bun. With the design of your fenghuang form on the back of the fabric of your slit skirt, with hints of his dragon-qilin adeptus form as well. It laid the hidden meaning of your identity and claim to your husband. Details intimate and hidden for both of you.
Credit to Menogias’ keen eye and sense of fashion. Who foound a hobby in coordinating your outfits together.
It only made this god of old before you pleased and content at the sight. Including the chocker necklace you always wore. With gold and silver accents and a rhombus shaped Cor Lapis gem dangling. Matching the rhombus pin on his tie and your ring. Hiding the faint traces of an inhuman bite and the Geo symbol imprinted on the back of your neck, along with another on your navel and an actual tattoo of his adeptus form. The dragon side of Zhongli always carrying a possessive and marking trait, but never against your own will. That also included having your fenghuang form tattooed on him underneath all his layers.
The tattoos themselves invisible to the naked eye unless revealed or with great elemental perception.
Gold amber eyes twinkling with warmth and love as he gazed at you, always able to melt and flutter his stone heart. “Throughout all these years together, I couldn’t have asked for anyone else to be by my side all these years.”
You smile adoringly at him as you press your body as close as physically possible against his, “I love you so much you know..”
Your husband strengthens his hold on you as his other hand sweetly rubs the exposed thigh from one of the slits of your dress and away from your thigh high boot.
“I always know, my sweet mate.” Zhongli leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “And I love you, much more than you are already aware.”
You smile very softly content over your husband’s shoulder. He then pulls you onto his lap sideways, making you wrap your arms around his neck as he pressed his forehead against yours. “You are the most precious treasure to me in all of Teyvat.” With both half-lidded eyes, he gazes upon your irises, that move and change like a reflection of the night.
“And I will never stop reminding you that I am yours for eternity, my wife, my love, my treasure. I dedicate my life, soul and heart to you, and only you.” he then pulls you onto his lap, making you wrap your arms around his neck as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Even when, one day, we reach the end of our time, we’ll be together.”
You lean against him as you both look upon the city and the landscapes you’ve watched over for centuries.
“To this mortal life of ours now.”
Zhongli smiles softly, “Yes, to this mortal life we have.”
Name References:
Alloces: Demon from the Ars Goetia/Lesser Key of Solomon, a Great Duke of Hell. Persuades immortality, teaches all mysteries and arts of the sky, astronomy, liberal sciences, and granting familiars.
what is the odds of having diluc’s wife as your patient- diluc r.
light angst
cw: diluc has a wife, u are his ex😭🫵🏻
The sterile white walls of the clinic felt like they were closing in, the rhythmic thrum-thrum of the fetal monitor the only thing tethering you to reality. You gripped your pen until your knuckles turned ivory, your breath hitching in the back of your throat as you glanced at the patient chart in your hand.
Mrs. Ragnvindr.
The name felt like a jagged piece of glass in your mouth. You forced a neutral, practiced mask onto your features, smoothing the front of your lab coat before pushing open the door.
Diluc sat in the corner chair, the leather creaking under his weight. He looked exactly as he did the day he shattered your world—sharp, poised, and devastatingly handsome in a way that made your chest ache with a dull, persistent throb. The memory surfaced unbidden, cruel and vivid: the coldness in his eyes when he’d said those words, “I don’t want to have a child.” You had spent months whispering hints of a future, painting a picture of a home filled with laughter and small, stumbling footsteps, only for him to rip the canvas to shreds in a single sentence.
"Doctor?" The soft voice of his wife jolted you back. She was beautiful, her expression radiant and filled with a fragile, hopeful warmth that you recognized all too well.
"My apologies," you murmured, your voice steady despite the storm raging beneath your ribs. You moved to the bedside, your hands slightly trembling as you adjusted the ultrasound probe. "Let’s see how our little one is doing today."
The room fell into a heavy, suffocating silence, punctuated only by the whoosh of the doppler. You worked with mechanical precision, your eyes fixed on the screen, refusing to meet Diluc’s gaze even as you felt the heavy weight of his eyes on your profile. You focused on the tiny, fluttering heartbeat—a miracle that existed here, but was denied to you.
"It’s a girl," you whispered, the words catching on a sudden, sharp intake of air.
You shifted your gaze then, and the sight nearly brought you to your knees. Diluc had stood up, his hand resting protectively on his wife’s shoulder. His jaw, usually set in that familiar, stoic line, was trembling. Tears—bright and unchecked—welled in his eyes, his gaze fixed on the monitor with a raw, unadulterated adoration that you had spent years desperate to see directed at you.
His wife let out a joyful, tearful laugh, reaching up to cover her mouth. "Oh, Diluc. A daughter."
Diluc didn’t speak, but he leaned down, pressing his forehead against his wife’s, his fingers tracing the curve of her belly with a tenderness that felt like a knife twisting in your gut. He was glowing, his entire posture softened by a vulnerability you had been told didn't exist in him.
You watched them—the picture of the life you had once built in your dreams—and felt a hollow, numbing realization settle into your bones. He hadn't been incapable of fatherhood; he had just been waiting for the right person to make it worth the sacrifice.
"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Ragnvindr," you said, your voice remarkably calm, though your heart felt like it was crumbling into ash.
You handed over the printout, your fingers brushing his briefly—a contact that sent a jolt of ice through your veins. You bowed low, using the movement to hide the sheen of tears in your own eyes. As they turned to leave, you caught his gaze one last time. You offered a short, curt nod, a silent acknowledgment of the wreckage he left behind and the life he had so easily chosen to build without you.
He lingered for a second, his expression unreadable, a flicker of something—regret? Recognition?—passing through his eyes before he turned away, hand guiding his wife out the door. The heavy click of the door closing behind them sounded like a final gavel strike, leaving you alone in the sterile silence of the examination room. You remained bowed, your head tilted toward the linoleum floor, waiting for the trembling in your hands to subside.
The weight of the realization crushed the last remnants of the hope you had kept tucked away in the back of your mind. For years, you had blamed his refusal on his own guarded nature, on his commitment to his career, and on his cold exterior. You had told yourself he simply wasn't the "family type." But watching him now—the way he cradled his wife’s hand, the way his eyes softened with a devotion he had never shown you—the truth was laid bare in the most agonizing way possible.
He hadn't been afraid of the commitment. He hadn't been closed off to the idea of a life shared. You let out a jagged, shaky breath, your chest hitching as the reality cemented itself into your heart: He is ready to build a future and a family, but not with you.
—————————————————————————
note: i plan to write this for scara but i change the whole story bcos i dont wanna give u guys another scara ansgt😭😭😭
a sigh left out of the girl as she shakes her head before putting her phone in her pocket. ‘right, go to mr. pulcinella’s office to receive the portfolios and the schedule.’
teyvat university, a unique university since these aren’t just normal departments, these are actually different universities merged into one large campus. It was a miracle from the gods above as what locals or outsiders commented if they were asked about teyvat university.
due to the fact that each department represents a different nation of teyvat—and with a student population comparable to that of a small country—the university administration quickly realized that a single student affairs organization would be impossible to manage effectively. after much deliberation, the founders and deans of the seven departments unanimously agreed to establish independent student affairs organizations for each nation, allowing every department to govern its own students according to its customs, traditions, and administrative style while still operating under teyvat University's central administration.
these organizations oversee student welfare, discipline, events, interdepartmental relations, and extracurricular activities within their respective departments, ensuring that each nation's unique identity is preserved while maintaining harmony across the university as a whole.
These organizations are called by their perspective names, such as;
Mondstadt Department, Knights of Favonius Student Council.
Fontaine Department, Maison Gardiennage Student Council.
Natlan Department, War Council Student Affairs.
Shezhnaya Department, Fatui Organization.
Despite being in different departments, the department’s founders also created the Central Student Affairs Council. the CSAC serves as the bridge and communicates between all of the departments to each other whenever they need help from another department or a scene was made and needs the opinions of other departments to come to the final conclusion.
“mr. pulcinella! it’s me, (Name)!” she announced after knocking on her advisor’s office door. of course, every council has their advisor to guide its student council members.
“come in, child.” was the reply from inside of the office.
with a quiet hum, (Name) entered inside of the chilling yet warm at the same time office of pulcinella. the old man was there, sitting on his office chair while his desk was neatly organized with two portfolios as well as a laminated schedule for this month.,
“mr. pulcinella, i came here for the portfolios and the schedule for the seven nations festival preparation.” (Name) stated, knowing that mr. pulcinella would prefer going straight to the point.
pulcinella nodded, gathering her requested things. “I was wondering why you were taking a tad long time, child.”
“ah, i apologies, mr. pulcinella. I admit i almost forgot about it if it weren’t for father to remind me about it in the group chat.” she sheepishly admitted as she accepted the portfolios and schedule.
pulcinella mused, “and here i thought i should be forgetting things since my age.”
“mr. pulcinella..”
“kidding , dear child. kidding.”
“you don’t sound like it…”
it was late in the afternoon and around that time, lohen— vice captain of the knights of favonious, though he still wonders why he was even elected as vice captain by dean varka— was, as usual, lazing around in the k.o.f office after finishing a sparring session in the fencing club in mondstadt department despite being it earlier at around 2:30pm and he should have been checking around to inspect the preparations for the seven nations festival.
he should be working right now, or else jean— the president of the knights of favonious— will surely scold him about being a representative of the monstadt department and all that shaz sham but it’s only a tiny break, right?
“670… 671… 672.. 673..” lohen murmured, slowly but surely accepting his drowsiness.
a sleep break won’t hurt, no?
surely.
“her majesty’s nose is asymmetrical. shift the entire sculpture west!”
a sudden boom of a firm yet passionate voice being said in a megaphone was heard down the campus’ that resulted into lohen’s sleep bubble being popped and him being jolted back to the living.
“what the hell..?” lohen muttered, annoyed by the person who just woke him up from his deserving break nap.
he’ll surely ask for a spar with this person to teach them a lesson. annoying little thing.
“no, no, no! move it again going a bit towards north! i will not have her majesty’s statue bowing down to the anemo archon!”
that voice ordered again, quite frequently. as if the tsaritsa is watching their every move.
“by seven’s christ, just who is this person?” lohen wondered, rubbing his forehead.
with a sigh of exasperation, lohen approached the window, curiosity outweighing his frustration. whoever was making such a racket this late in the afternoon was about to receive an earful—if not challenge— from him.
or so he thought.
years later, he'd look back on that moment and laugh at himself. the instant he glanced out the window, his entire train of thought came to a screeching halt. his eyes widened, his breath caught in his chest, and the irritation that had fueled him moments before melted away, replaced by something far more dangerous.
there were beautiful people at teyvat university, yes. lohen had met plenty of them. but beauty had never been enough to make him stop walking.
she did.
it wasn't because she was standing beneath the winter sunlight, nor because the crystalline ice sculptures reflected in her eyes. it was because she stood at the center of absolute chaos as though she had been born for it. a single gesture from her sent dozens of people into motion. a single glance was enough to make someone correct their mistake before she even spoke. she carried herself with the confidence of a commander and the composure of someone who knew exactly where she belonged.
lohen had always admired strength—the kind that stood firm when everything else threatened to fall apart. and there she was, directing an entire festival with nothing but a megaphone, a blueprint, and unwavering conviction in her voice. before he could stop himself, a dangerous thought settled into his mind with alarming certainty: there she is. as if every path he'd taken had somehow led him to this exact moment. as if, without ever exchanging a single word, he'd already met the love of his life.
PRODUCER'S ENDING CREDITS!
first chap omg! so sorry for the long wait, dearies! i was getting use to the, like, smau things. it's my first time doing this but it's always fun to explore new things once in a while >w<!
also, why do some people i try to tag not get tag huhu
cw cheating, f! reader, reader is married to an older unnamed man, smut MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
He didn’t know at first of course, that you were married. He found you in Fontaine at one of his clients homes, arranging a small bouquet of rainbow roses in your arms. Meeting him was standard, cordial. Diluc is a gentleman and refined and polite, taking your hand in his with a small bow. You smile at his earnestness and tell him the master of the house is just inside. Diluc nods your way, but his gaze lingers on you before he turns.
A short while later when Diluc is speaking with his client, you walk in to join the mans side much to the redheads surprise, and he coldly kisses your cheek in a way that makes you sneak a wince. You then glance at Diluc with a demure smile as your husband introduces you to the Mondstadt mogul and then just as quickly he dismisses you, making a comment about how a woman like you doesnt need to be around business meetings. Your eyes flash something miserable, something lonely as your smile subtly cracks at the edges.
Diluc is an excellent businessman, securing a partnership with your husband easily. Though you chalk it up to him being old and eager for the money — even if Diluc is an honest person and does things the right way. You lounge in your sitting room, grand and opulent and built just for you so that you don’t bother your husband, and turn the page of your book. You then look up to see Master Diluc standing in the doorway, looking a bit lost, wringing his gloves in his hands.
You sit up straighter, asking him if he’s alright and if he’d like some lemonade. Diluc shakes his head and reassures you he’s quite alright, glancing around the space then back to you, commenting about how lovely your home is. You smile at his almost nervous speech, not the proud and confident man who was speaking to your husband.
Diluc comes and sits on the ornate little couch across from yours and apologizes for your earlier meeting. He did not know you were the wife of the home, of a client. Had he known he would not have been so bold and flirtatious with taking your hand in his. Your heart flutters, and when you laugh, Diluc almost aches deep in his chest at how lovely it sounds. You shake your head, telling him it was nothing to apologize for, and how it’s been a long time since anyone gave you such attention. Dilucs face warms when you sigh wistfully and your lashes flutter at him, closing your book and pressing it against your chest.
You stand and step towards Diluc, reaching out to touch a strand of his hair and musing about how his hand was so very warm, and rough — before you walk out. Your words pin him down for a moment and he smells your perfume, it sends a jolt of curious want through him. But also of something dangerous.
After that is when the letters start. Letters sprayed with your perfume that he tucks into his coat, and letters sent back to you delivered in secret by a clever little falcon who drops them off in the night. They’re innocent enough for a while, asking you what you’re reading lately or what your favorite flowers are. Then they venture into something else, like when you ask him what he thinks about at night (you) or if he’s ever taken a lover (never). It becomes thrill for you to open one of his letters in the middle of the night and seeing what he has written, every swirl of ink on the page proclaiming that he was thinking about you or that he was coming to visit your husband soon, to the point of your fingers dipping between your thighs to work tiny circles across your clit and softly whimpering Dilucs name while clutching his letter to your bare breast.
When he comes to meet with your husband again, you aimlessly stand off to the side like the silly little wife you are. Sipping tea and eating cookies and letting your hips sway where Diluc can watch from the corner of his eye when you walk into the kitchen for more. Your husband is none the wiser, bidding Diluc goodbye and heading into town to gamble and drink and leave you alone in such a big house, while Diluc uses his stealth to sneak around the back and rapping against your window softly.
You open it and grin, grasping his hand and pulling him in. Suddenly, it feels all too real, after months of letters and flirting, he’s back here in your arms. You shy away at him being so close and tangible, your face hot and heart thundering when Diluc cups your cheeks in his hands. He looks at you gently, with understanding, acknowledging that you don’t have to do this. He knows he’s a scoundrel for falling in love with a married woman. But before he can allow himself to leave for going further, you lean up on your toes to kiss him and the dam bursts.
He kisses you back, arms winding carefully around your waist but his hold growing tighter and more frantic as your mouth opens with a sigh for his tongue to explore you. Your knee glides up the side of him to anchor yourself against his hip, feeling him growing hard and pressed to your core. He allows his broad hand to latch to your thigh and hoists you up into his burly arms, your legs winding around his waist while you don’t dare part from his kisses.
It’s then he makes love to you on your marriage bed, desperate and deep and his fat, thick cock that makes your spine arch like a bow and presses your aching tit further into Dilucs mouth as he hunches over your writhing body. You’ve never climaxed so hard, tears bursting from your lashes as you leave sticky creamy rings around the base of Dilucs cock, tight and squeezing his girth until he can hardly move, and his cock is lurching in your cunt to fill you with his seed so hot it warms your womb. You kiss him in a dizzy, hazy flurry as he promises to one day make you his for real before you fall asleep.
When you wake to an empty bed, you weep.
It’s not the end however, secret rendezvous after your husband’s business meetings where you ride and bounce on Dilucs cock in your sitting room, to traveling with your husband to Mondstadt where you have Diluc eat you out on top of his desk while your husband gets drunk on dandelion wine, events and fancy parties that have you sneaking away and your dress hiked up while Diluc fucks you against the wall behind the Dawn Winery. Kisses and vows of love exchanged and you leave more and more of your heart with him every time you depart. Your husband who in his ignorance pulls you to him as you politely wave goodbye to Diluc for his thorough hospitality.
When your old husband coughs bitterly into his fist on the way home, you can’t help the way your heart leaps. Perhaps it will be sooner for you to be with your true beloved.
a/n: open ended for you to wonder if he’s just old and dying or something else maybe? >.> or perhaps i just didn’t know how to end this lmaooo
♯┆ Farmhand Varka has your whole attention and he wouldn't want it any other way
𝜗𝜚˚⋆ cw: mdni! fem!reader, pussy eating, creampie, semi public sex
♡ comments and reblogs appreciated ♡
Farmhand!Varka who woke before dawn every day, boots already caked in mud as he hauled hay bales almost twice his size.
Farmhand!Varka who tipped his hat with a slow grin whenever he passed you, voice slightly teasing.
Farmhand!Varka who fixed every broken fence and leaky trough with patient, callused hands.
Farmhand!Varka who helped you on and off the horses, big hands firm at your waist as he lifts you with ease.
Farmhand!Varka who often napped with his shirt unbuttoned in the hayloft where he knew you'd see him, golden sunlight highligting his chest and the trail of blonde hair disappearing into his pants.
Farmhand!Varka who kissed you behind the shed after the harvest dance, tasting like your favorite apple cider.
Farmhand!Varka who ate you out while you sat on a hay bale in the shed, tongue eagerly lapping at your cunt and swirling around your clit.
Farmhand!Varka who made sure to work you open with his thick fingers until you came onto his tongue before he even thought about his own needs.
Farmhand!Varka who let you ride him first, strong hands steady on yout hips as he watched you bounce on his cock while you wore nothing but his hat.
Farmhand!Varka who held your hips and fucked into you when your movements slowed down, skin slapping loudly in the empty shed.
Farmhand!Varka who praised you through your orgasm and pulls you against his sweaty chest as his cum leaked around his cock that was still buried so deep inside you.
Cw: Other than the smut, it's relatively tame, and the smut is brief I think. p in v and fem bodied reader too
(In which Varka is clumsy, and hot times turn into silly times?)
Strong hips slam into your own as your belly rubs against the soft blanket of Varka’s bed. His hands have your waist, though they travel every so often, the thumb of one hand between your thighs as he rubs circles into your clit, little sparks building in your spine.
It’s not the first round of course, a mix of your juices dripping down your thighs as he adjusted you just so, and then does it again a second later.
“The other way was better,” you pant, honest and desperate as you try to chase the pleasure he’s been building for you.
“Ngh-! Got it…don’t worry darlin’ I‘ve got it,” Varka grits out, strained for once. It’s unlike him to get winded so easily, so when you raise your face off the pillow, propping yourself on your forearms, you note a wince in his brow that shouldn’t be there.
“Hey, are you okay?”
The question is the only thing you’re able to get out before you feel the bed shake and buck and a pop nearly echoes as you’re left empty. You hear a whimper that doesn’t come from you before a yelp, though you can hardly believe it’s Varka.
The shock of the emptiness partnered with the heavy smack of a body on the floor keeps you frozen for a moment, catching your breath. Peeking over the bed, you see the illustrious Grand Master of Mondstadt sprawled on the floor in a heap as he rubs his leg furiously, groaning as he rolls into the same position you were in. He’s ass up face down, though you hope you look a little less pitiful when you’re in it than what you have now in front of you.
“Leg cramp,” he rasps as you watch him trying to stretch the muscles in his leg. No one would believe it if you’d told them, but the man in question has taken down perhaps thousands of monsters in his years only to be bested by what you assume is a product of dehydration.
“Oh my poor baby,” you coo, stifling a laugh. “Do you want my help?”
You roll off the bed with a groan, landing next to him and the look he throws you can only be described as severe sulking. “Thought I could power through it,” he chuckles, self deprecation clear in his voice.
“What do you mean ‘power through it’?! How long have you had it?”
“A couple minutes? ‘bout right when you soaked the sheets last,” he says as if it doesn’t both baffle and embarrass you to hear.
“Please don’t record time based on when I’ve finished,” you say dryly, helping him up. He limps his way around for a moment with your help, finally getting the movement he needed. “Y’know…this does mean you’re getting older. Gotta hydrate more.”
“Kicking a man while he’s down?” he snorts.
“You might be down, but something is still very much up. Are you a masochist? I’ve never seen you this hard before,” you gasp in shock now, your eyes widening in faux innocently.
He sighs, head hanging for a moment before your feet leave the ground and you’re very promptly thrown onto the bed again.
“Masochist or not, you aren’t leaving until I’m the one helping you walk around,” he huffs, the look in his eyes oh so competitive as he tries to crawl up you again, settling himself between your thighs with a grin.
It’s only a matter of minutes before he’s collapsing face first into your chest, once again plagued by another cramp.
“I told you-“ you laugh, watching him scramble to get back up.
we have varka who lets you on expeditions but how about varka who refuses to let you go at all? …and of course how about what he does when he’s out too long…
grandmaster varka who claims you’re his right hand, but “demotes” you to secretary every time an expedition comes around that needs him on it. mostly so he can rail you when he returns.
cw: p in v, unprotected sex. yearner varka. cumming inside… oooughhh big dihh varka. varka x fem!reader
he mostly does it to assure your safety, but also because it gives him a reason to get back home safe. his favorite lady in mondstadt, waiting for him to return.
he likes you. it isn’t hard to tell, and everyone knows. everyone does. they can tell by the look in his eyes when you pass by, or the way he leans in to listen to you talk. or, when in passing conversation, he mentions things about you that he probably shouldn’t pay enough attention to know.
he can describe your fighting style in detail. he pays attention. if someone asked, he’d probably be able to describe you perfectly.
he knows that you’d be upset if he was seriously injured and wouldn’t return. he’d be upset about that for you, too. so he doesn’t let you accompany him.
—
“varka, please. let me go with you. i don’t understand why you never let me.” you say, hands firmly planted on the edge of the big desk in the center of his office. you lean forward, making eye contact with him. there’s something in your eyes that’s almost pleading— but also a little demanding.
his eyes narrow at you. he leans back, tilting his head back as well. “why do you wanna come so bad?” he’s smirking, like you aren’t serious about this.
“because i want to help you,” you retort, tilting your head. “you say i’m good at fighting but you never let me put my skills to use. why is that?”
“you really don’t get it?” he chuckles, a smirk spreading across his face as he tucks his chin closer to his chest. he looks up at you, brows furrowing. his smirk fades quickly. “i don’t want you to get hurt. you’re good at fighting and i trust you with my life. but i wouldn’t forgive myself if i let you come with me and you got killed on my watch.”
“you think that would happen?” you ask, eyebrows knitting in surprise. he really thinks that you would get hurt. it’s a possibility, but you’re strong on your own.
“i don’t think it would. it’s unlikely, but the possibility is enough for me to decide against bringing you with.”
“varka—“
he shakes his head, cutting you off before you even have the chance of arguing. “no.”
—
your relationship is unprofessional enough. not only have you had sex before, it doesn’t help that he likes you a bit more than he probably should and ultimately that translates into him being overly protective. he leaves on long expeditions, leaves you on your own for ages and returns in the middle of the night. most of the time he slept into the next day, but one day, particularly after that argument, he drops in on you the same night he returned from a 6 week expedition.
—
he raps on your door repeatedly, standing in front of it with his shoulders tense and posture stiff. there’s something warm in his eyes. that and exhaustion in his bones and frustration in his muscles. you answer the door, rubbing your eyes with one hand. you’re dressed in deep blue robes which are tightened around your waist to protect you from the strong winds outside.
he says nothing. as soon as you look up and realize it is him, it is indeed varka, home safe and sound with seemingly no injuries, he pushes past you into your home.
“varka, are you okay?” you ask, confusion in your eyes as you shut the door.
immediately, he responds. “we lost a few thousand mora in gear, and countless more in men.” his expression is somber and his eyebrows are knit, set firmly in frustration that pools visibly in his eyes. his stature is tightly wound in frustration and you would be very afraid of this man if you didn’t know him.
he moves closer to you, his height leading him to quickly eat up the distance between you both. he leans down, tucking his face into the crook of your neck, where your shoulders connect. he breathes you in, finding your scent comforting after long hours of fighting where his sanity dwindled quickly. you lift your arms and wrap them around him.
you don’t say anything. you know varka enough that words won’t comfort him. words won’t do much for him in this state.
as he stands there, frustration winds throughout his body no matter how hard he tries to relax. so, he opens his eyes and tilts his head. his lips gingerly press against your neck, kissing upwards to your ear. you shudder, tilting your head to give him more access. this isn’t the first time he’s sought comfort in you and it certainly won’t be the last.
he guides you back and crowds you against the wall, resting his hands above your shoulders on the door behind you. he presses his body against you. his shoulders are wide, his arms are strong and beefy and the rest of his body follows that blueprint. thick, strong— built to fight and intimidate. enemies cower, but you… you just melt against him, content as to be perfectly swallowed by him.
“i’m sorry,” you murmur. trying to offer some comfort outside of what he’s been through. it’s obvious now, though, with the way his hips press against you, that he could care less about the numbers right now. your hands travel idly along the underside of his arms, squeezing comfortingly as he sucks dark hickeys into your skin. the bruises are obvious and stand out against the rest of your skin. not necessarily in color but more in flush. redder, like an unnatural patchy blush starting at your collarbone and going up to meet the angle of your jaw. he pecks the corner of your mouth, then arches himself down to kiss and bite at your throat.
your body shudders, heat going straight between your legs against your will, and your thighs part to accept his thick thigh as it lodged itself between your own. he grunts, feeling your warmth, your heat, your need. his hair is sticking up on the back of his neck and sweat beads at his brow and for a moment he feels a little insecure.
how could he, the grandmaster of the knights of favonius, barge into a woman’s home and push himself upon her? he wonders how you must feel, given he’s done this more than once. suddenly, he stops, breathing heavily into your neck. he must smell. sweat and musk and dirt…
he looks down at you, and you’re leaning against the wall, head tilted as if you’re waiting for him. you’re moving your hips a little too, breathing heavily and trying to soothe the ache between your legs. you stop then, glancing at him. “hm.. what?” you ask. his worries disappear immediately seeing how desperate you are. just as desperate as he is.
he smirks a little, and crowds himself against you more. he holds himself highly, follows his morals strictly… in the same breath he took being insecure, he reminds himself that it’s just as rude to deny a lady what she so obviously wants.
“nothing,” he mumbles quickly, moving his hands down to slide them under your robe. he goes back to kissing your shoulder, cupping your tits and squeezing them. the metal of his gauntlet is cold. you shiver, biting the inside of your cheek and pressing yourself against him more.
“you need something?” he asks. “i thought i was the desperate one.” he teases. he feels the tension leaving his shoulders. maybe it’s you, or maybe it’s the fact he has you beneath him.
“you still are.” you scoff sharply, but your back arches into his touch nonetheless.
“really? you’re not even a little desperate? you’re saying you don’t miss my cock at least a little bit? it’s been weeks,” he pouts. he withdraws, and abruptly flips you around to pin your front to the door. one hand lazily pulls your robes up, sneaking another hand between your legs and cupping your cunt. you’re warm, and a little wet already. he feels you jump when he makes eye contact and he smirks. “well, no words needed, baby. your body tells me everything i need to know.” he coos.
you shut your eyes and scowl. “shut up, varka.” you would say you felt his boner, but he wasn’t necessarily trying to hide it. “maybe i do miss it… a little. we wouldn’t have to do this every time you returned if you’d let me come with you,” you start to complain. he cuts you off by pecking at your cheek and kissing your neck to silence you.
between kisses, he explains. “i need to make sure you’re safe,” he kisses your neck, and spreads his fingers before slipping one inside you. you’re warm, and hot, and sticky and the feeling of you makes him groan. “…and maybe i like knowing i have you waiting. needing me. it helps. reminds me what i have to get back to.”
you whimper, tilting your head back to give him more access and pressing yourself back to get more. “i’m flattered,” you mutter shakily. he slides another finger in and you gasp. he scissors his fingers a little bit inside you, stretching your walls. “relax.” he says, shutting his eyes and groaning into your neck. his other hand holds onto your waist. “feels good?” he asks.
this… is already too much. you’re shaking already. maybe it’s the fact he’s so big in comparison to you, or maybe it’s the fact that he smells like dirt and sweat. it’s a smell mixed with something uniquely him. something you missed. your body trembles and suddenly, he withdraws his fingers.
you whimper in protest and your body jolts, but your disappointment is waved quickly when you hear him messing with his belt. “ready?” he mumbles, kissing your shoulder once. you feel his cock spring out and hit your thigh, the sheer thickness of it enough to make the fat of your thighs ripple. he moves his feet hand down between the both of you, wrapping it around the base of his cock to line himself up with you. his thighs are spread wide, pressed against the back of yours. he notches the tip of his cock against your hole and he feels you flutter against him, your slick dripping out and coating the bottom of his length.
you’ve had him before. it’s thick and long, curved slightly upward. it gets a bit thicker an inch past the base, and plugs you just right every time. it’s big enough to where you have to adjust. every time. not that you complain.
you nod slowly, giving him the green light… and so, he pushes his hips forward. he stops once he gets the tip in, and immediately you whimper. slowly he starts working himself inside you and you try your best to relax. each movement makes your breath hitch. but before you know it, he’s all the way in.
he pauses, breathing heavily and keeping his hips pressed firmly against your ass. he pauses for a second and so do you, before pressing back against him. you whimper as he wiggles his hips against yours, trying to get deeper if that was even possible. you feel him in your stomach, the girth of him spreading you enough so his tip hits the furthest part inside you.
“you like that?” he murmurs, lifting himself so he can grind himself into you but also use one hand to support himself against the wall. he shuts his eyes, his blonde hair sticking to his face and neck from how close he’s been to you. he groans quietly and you moan out softly, arching your back as his hips rock against your ass.
his free hand slides down your front, and you spread your legs, his hand finding purchase against your thigh so he can slide his middle and ring finger against your clit, rubbing tight uniform circles. the contact sends jolts of electricity through your body, accompanied by the little thrusts he’s been making to get you to relax.
“can you relax for me?” he asks, his voice soft and comforting but also raspy as he fucks into you. he speeds up, panting against your ear. he uses his thumb and pointer finger to roll your nipple between his fingers. his body is hot against yours, crowding you against the door and effectively pinning you against it. pleasure shoots through your body as he fucks you, little grunts and groans leaving his throat. the sound of his hips hitting your ass resounds through the room, and his stomach clenches as he changes the angle to hit even deeper.
he doesn’t even need to work that hard— he’s been gone for so long, deprived you of pleasure for so long that you’re already close.
“wait— fuck. please, don’t stop,” you beg. and he doesn’t. he keeps doing exactly what he’s doing. rolling your nipple between his fingers, rubbing circles into your clit and fucking his fat cock into you over and over again. you’re so full, you can feel him in your chest.
before you even realize you’re cumming, your walls clench down on his cock and your back arches and you cry out his name. pleasure melts your mind into nothing, and he buries his cock into you as deep as it can go… and he cums as well. flooding your walls with hot cum as his fingers stutter in their movement and fail. in the midst of his own pleasure he pushes you further against the wall, resorting to grabbing onto your hips to ground himself as he mindlessly grinds his hips into you. it doesn’t take you long to whimper and cry from overstimulation. he’s a bit lost in the feeling of your tight cunt, but not too lost as to ignore your cries.
he slows to a stop, and with a grunt pulls out of your pulsing cunt. he stands there for a second, breathing and letting you breathe as he comes down. he smirks a little— finding that moment well worth the wait. so, he asks.
“wasn’t that worth the wait?” he teases. “i don’t think i’d let you get any work done on an expedition even if you came… let’s keep it like this.”
you whine in protest, turning around in his hold and burying your face into his chest. “just don’t go… not for a little while, at least. stay. i think it’s time you do your fair share of work anyways.”
his pupils dilate, and he groans at the thought of doing anything but fucking you. he slides his hands up your front to distract you.
“come on… i can think of something much better to dedicate my time to.”
Estella Lucis Caelum @fml7113 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
