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i'm so thirsty i could drink an elf

ʙʟᴏᴡɪɴɢ ᴏꜰꜰ ꜱᴛᴇᴀᴍ | ᴅɪʟᴜᴄ ʀ.

After-hours inventory management takes an unexpected turn when you decide the boss has been working too hard. Diluc Ragnvindr is about to discover that some of his new hire's talents weren't exactly listed on their resume.

warnings : smut, blowjob, hints of dubcon, negligent display of power (employee-boss dynamic) he gets somewhat rough, deep throating, brat mention, kaeya mention, subtle slut shaming in the narrative, mean possessive luc :3

notes : luc might be ooc, this is my very first post (I’m open for constructive criticism). So sorry if my writing is cringe, thanks for reading 🥹

Two years.

Two years of you behind the bar. Two years of your mouth running at full speed. Two years of watching you charm his patrons and delight his brother and casually treat the Angel’s Share like it was your personal kingdom.

Two years of this.

Diluc leaned back in his office chair, one calloused hand tangled in your hair, the other resting loosely on the armchair. The door was locked. It was always locked now during the late hours after close.

The staff knew not to knock. The patrons knew not to linger. The whole city probably knew at this point because Mondstadt was a nest of vipers when it came to gossip, and you were not exactly subtle about the marks you occasionally forgot to cover.

Not that he cared. Let them talk.

His hips rolled up in a lazy rhythm, not quite thrusting, just... present. Letting you set the pace. For now.

You’re good at this. Of course you are. You are good at everything: inventory, customer service, defusing fights, making Kaeya actually shut up for once in his miserable life.

And this.

Especially this.

Your mouth was warm and wet and exactly where it belonged, and right now you were looking up at him with those dark eyes, that familiar glint of mischief swirling in them even with your lips stretched taut around him.

Fucking brat.

"You're being quiet," he observed, his voice rough. "That's new."

You pulled back just enough to speak, your breath hot against him. "Maybe I'm finally learning when to shut up."

He laughed. Actually laughed, a low sound that rumbled through his chest. "No, you're not."

"No," you agreed, and your smile was pure poison. "I'm really not. You know what Kaeya said? He said-"

Diluc's hips snapped up.

Hard.

You choked, a wet, surprised sound, your eyes widening as he hit the back of your throat without warning. Your fingers dug into his thighs, not pushing away, just holding on.

He kept you there. Counted three heartbeats.

Four.

Then he relaxed, letting you breathe, letting you gasp and swallow and glare up at him with tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

"You were saying?" he asked mildly.

You coughed, wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and grinned. It was a wrecked expression, half defiance and half want, and it made something dark curl in his stomach.

"I was saying," you continued with your hoarse voice, “that Kaeya thinks you've gone soft.

That l've domesticated you. Tamed the infamous Darknight Hero."

Diluc's grip tightened in your hair.

"Domesticated."

"That's what he said." You licked your lips, slow and deliberate. "I told him he was wrong. That you're just as much of a bastard as you've always been. You just have better outlets now."

Another thrust. Harder. You gagged again, and this time he held you there longer, watching the way your throat worked around him, the way your eyes fluttered half-closed. When he finally let up, you were breathing hard, your composure cracking just slightly.

"Better outlets," he repeated. "Is that what you are?"

"Mmhmm." You nuzzled against him, cheek rubbing against his thigh like a satisfied cat. “Your favourite outlet. Your stress relief. Your-“

He didn't let you finish.

This time he set a rhythm, rough and relentless, not giving you room to talk, not giving you room to breathe. Each thrust pushed you closer to the edge of what you could take, and each time you gagged, each time you choked, that dark satisfaction spread through his chest like warm wine.

You loved this. He knew you loved this. The brattiness, the mouthing off: it was all leading here, to this moment, to him reminding you exactly who was in charge.

Your hands had stopped gripping his thighs.

They were just... there. Resting.

He watched himself disappear into your mouth, watched the tears streak down your cheeks, watched the way your body trembled with the effort of taking him. Beautiful. Ruined. His.

"Look at me," he commanded.

Those dark eyes, glassy and desperate, fixed on his face as he fucked your throat with single-minded focus.

"You want to talk about Kaeya?" He hissed, his voice was ragged, barely controlled. "You want to talk about being domesticated?"

You couldn't answer. Could only make sounds: wet, broken sounds that sent heat racing down his spine.

He slowed. Just enough. Let you breathe, let you recover, let you think you had a moment to collect yourself.

"I'll tell you what domesticated looks like," he said, thumb tracing your plump cheekbone. "It looks like you on your knees. Every time you run that mouth. Every time you push too far. This is what you get. This is what you wanted."

You nodded. Or tried to. It was hard to nod with his hand fisted in your hair.

"Then take it."

He snapped his hips forward again, harder than before, and held. Held you there, pressed against him, feeling your throat contract around him in desperate, reflexive swallows. The sounds you made -gagging, choking, whimpering—were the most beautiful sounds he'd heard all day.

When he finally let you up, you collapsed against his thigh: gasping, drooling, completely wrecked.

And smiling.

"Fuck," you whispered hoarsely. "Okay. Okay.

Maybe you're not domesticated."

Diluc stroked your hair, gentle now, the contrast almost obscene. "Maybe not."

You turned your head, pressed a kiss to his knee.

"I love you," you mumbled against his skin.

"You're such a bastard. I love you."

Something in his chest shifted. Softened. He ignored it.

"On the desk," he said. "Now."

You laughed, that same bark of laughter from two years ago, and let him pull you to your feet.

The office door stayed locked. The tavern stayed empty. And Diluc Ragnvindr, the terrifying Darknight Hero, the brooding master of the Dawn Winery, spent the next hour doing things that would have made Kaeya choke on his wine.

Good. Let him choke.