there’s a special butterfly in my stomach for particularly devoted, blue-collar men…
the type of man who, despite having just worked twelve-thirteen hours straight, making sure those little nails of yours stay manicured, will still come home and fuck you to sleep.
sure, the plant has his back sore and aching, and sleep rings under his eyes in dark circles, but he could just never resist how sweet you were about it.
greeting him at the front door in your pink, prissy pajamas. the ones he took you to the mall to buy. your nails painted a pretty color and your hair all done up. haven’t worked a day in your life, thanks to him, and you scream it too.
maybe you’d cooked him a meal or maybe he’d brought somethin’ good home, but after eating and showering, he was all soft and complacent in bed. well, more than he already is.
he’s driftin’ off the second he feels your body sink the mattress, pulling you into him like second nature. the only thing that gets him out of his stupor is your soft, almost shy whisper: “baby, i need you.”
no matter how tired or how grueling of a day he’s had, he’ll give you what you ask for. prone-bone, doggy, cuddle-fuck, whatever you prefer. he’ll pull his ragged body up, take care of your’s just right, and then enjoy the sleep-inducing orgasm that follows suit.
it’s always worth it, in his opinion, when he gets to watch your bliss-filled eyes roll back again and again.
I'm glad a book has finally brought to light that bisexuals are more than only perverts, but rather people who feel everything FUCKING deeply.
Do we make up for it by wanting to screw half the world? Yes, but so what? When we fall in love, it's like jumping off a cliff. Ilya is there to prove it.
dainleif is scared of forgetting you, he would traverse the cursed plains of the irminsul to remember you. — cursed grounds that belonged to one of those damned archons just to remember you. his curse now includes you as well. im gonna be honest and tell you straight up idk how the irminsul or dainsleif work and whether or not this is accurate to their lore, i just want to write a devoted lover dain who’s willing to beg to the archons for reader like that one questline. also!! reblogs and follows are very appreciated as it lets me know you guys enjoy my writing!! . (reader x dainsleif) oct. 15 2023 part one (?)
dainsleif is too ashamed to admit this aloud but he finds himself forgetting you. who once was his most precious, his beloved; your voice, your laugh, even your smile. — the gods are merciless but were ‘kind’ enough to spare you from turning you into the hilichurls doomed to wander the earth, loyal only to their most primal instincts. they were ‘kind’ enough to spare you from the curse of immortality, the pain of living and unable to die. he wonders which fate would have been better for the both of you, but he does believe death has been the most merciful outcome.
the only thing he has of you is the memory of your name, the love he can’t forget, and the dreams you’ve left with him. — but they’re not immune to the weathering of time. he finds himself slipping, forgetting the little things that complete your image, the treasures he salvaged from the remnants of his home broken down with the centuries that came with immortality and the dreams you held with him now seem blurry as though he couldn’t fathom to sleep and dream without you. it’s been eons and yet he still hasn’t gotten used to your absence beside him.
when fate is kind enough to grant him the time to paint, his mind goes over to the idea of you and he seems to get the gist of your frame, your figure but your face only seems to be drawn as a mixture of swirls, indescribable and indistinguishable from the fog that surrounds the memory of you.
as much as he hated to admit it, he was slowly forgetting you.
but he’s not ready yet, to forget you is to let you die once and for all. he’s the only one who holds the memory of you and if he forgets, you’re gone forever. — amidst the false gods, their endless pride and the heavens; you were the angel that almost made dainsleif believe in divinity.
he’s desperate to maintain that memory of you, to keep you alive and beside him to the best of his ability for forgetting you might doom to an eternity of restless living cursed only for vengeance.
dainsleif was desperate enough to keep that memory of you that he was willing to trek onto the irminsul, the ‘sacred’ grounds of the dendro archon that records say remembers everything. the memories stored within the ley lines that have touched all of teyvat, the ley lines that rooted itself deep beneath the grounds; roots that listened to every drop of rain, whisper and wind. — he was willing to traverse and resort to the divinities he loathed just to remember you. whether it’s be by force, or if he had to kneel, beg and grovel at the archon’s feet just to be welcomed into the dreamlike plains; he would do it for his pride was nothing next to his devotion for you.
the only obstacle now was whether or not the archon, buer was willing to let a khaenri'ahn survivor step foot into the holy grounds. — or if he could even ask for help from the traveler..
