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[deartoru]

crimson armor of loyalty: thoma

[deartoru]

Always n Forever ꕤ

a story in which, Morax has always had his eyes on you, one of Guizhong’s priestess — after a long battle and the succession of defending Guili plains, she allows him to have his way with you as a reward.

wc: 5.6k (sorry!)

contents+warnings: fem!reader, heavy breeding, mating presses, marking, overstimulation, cum eating, female!reader, monsterfucking, anal, vaginal penetration, use of aphrodisiacs, dubcon(?), size kink, slight spoilers(?), blowjobs, reincarnation. (This kinda follows the what if theory that Ningguang is the reincarnation of Guizhong.) HALF DRAGON ZHONGLI!

a/n: this has been sitting in my docs for about a month, posting it for @thicksimpx 🫶🏼 anyways, thank you to my beta readers: @manjiroscum @bubble4u & @gabzlovesu 💗

Men, women, children, and even adepti gather in the plains of Guili for this night of repose — gathering around the trees that were birthed from the earth while they sing songs of victory underneath the golden leaves as the gods sit high above.

“The Guili assembly has grown quite significantly,” Guizhong muses. There’s a smile on her face as she fondly watches the humans rejoice in victory below. Some of them were born here, while others sought refuge after losing their homes in the war — Guizhong loved them all the same. “And even though this victory is temporary, I wish all nights could be like this.”

And although Guizhong is talking, her companion, Morax, does not say anything. Instead, he takes a sip of his wine from his dish as he watches intently below — his gaze focused on the form of a woman, carefully stringing along her guzheng as children crowd around her.

From the corner of her eye, Guizhong catches a glimpse of Morax hunched over, his chin resting in his palms as he focuses on something other than her.

“Is there something on your mind? I’ve never seen you so focused,” Guizhong teases, taking a sip of her wine. “Or perhaps someone?”

Keep reading

[deartoru]

write ‘maybe’ in the tags and put the first tag that comes with it

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thank you guys sm <333 love you all mwah

[deartoru]

rambling again

i want zhongli to manhandles me while ruining my inside with his willy dong 😍😍😘😘😘 :3

[deartoru]

Do you ever eat popcorn out of the palm of your own hand with such ardent desperation that you feel like both a wild horse and the gentle schoolgirl feeding it treats to gain its affection 

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two characters who understand each other like no one else does and therefore hurt each other like no one else can

[deartoru]

reblog this and put in the tags what comes up when you type “die”

[deartoru]

⑅ ۫ . ෆ ˟ ໒꒱ KAMA SUTRA: PRINCIPLES OF LOVE it’s silly, al haitham thinks, how madly in love with you he is, how that love defies all sense of logic in his mind.

al haitham x sub!f!reader ౨ৎ . . . nsfw — mdni ໒꒱ ⋆˚✩. established relationship / clit kissies + dry humping / foreplay heavy! / praise + petnames / cervix fucking / creampie / al haitham is only a teeny bit teasing + vewy sweet / 2.7k wc. feedback + comments supa appreciated!

“you’ll never hear the end of it if kaveh catches you with that.”

you paw at the thick book al haitham has laid over the thigh that you aren’t occupying, shying into his neck at the image painted on the cardstock page he’s flipped to— one of a man and woman adorned in fine jewelry, gold silks tumbling off their limbs as they embrace each other in what appears to be a rather compromising position.

truth be told, you’re not exactly sure what led your lover— someone who has rarely ever indulged in the pleasure-oriented faculties of life— to pick up such a text about sex and eroticism as the kama sutra, but the mere thought of it is enough to have heat swirling in your tummy and your legs squeezing around the thigh you’re straddling.

“there’s far more to the kama sutra than just… fornication. it’s more so a guide to living well and the nature of love. a whole section is dedicated to finding a life partner—”

“awh, does that mean you’re gonna…?” you giggle, wagging your ring finger in front of his face playfully.

al haitham’s ears tinge red at your insinuation, but he carries on with the faintest of smirks on his lips that he’s trained to remain invisible. “— and there’s another chapter solely demonstrating when and how to commit adultery.”

and just like that— your toothy smile turns to a frown, nose twitchy as you anxiously toss your hair. “better not be reading that chapter, hmph.” you mutter into the warm skin of his neck, lips curving into a weak, half-hearted kiss that you lay over his pulse.

it’s almost amusing to him, the prettiest pout on your lips and brows knit cutely as you try to hide your disappointment from him, turning your head away from his when he attempts to face you. he blows out a sigh, chuckling sweetly when he catches you and lays a delicate kiss to your cheek. “never said i’d be paying that part any mind, sweetheart.”

when you respond by wrapping your arms tighter around his neck and bury your face in his shirt, he can only bring himself to smile and shake his head as he feels himself enter a bit of a daze that’s full of yearning and craving. unnatural, for someone like himself, but fitting, for someone madly in love.

and so, he gently spreads your legs to slot his hips between them, hiking a thigh over his shoulder before lowering his face to the crotch of your panties, skirt pooling flimsily at your hips. “when a woman reproaches a man, but at the same time acts affectionately towards him, she should be made love to in every way.” he quotes from the book.

the warmth of his breath reaches through the thin cotton and your cunt begins to weep, clenching and oozing out slick in a silent plea for his fingers, his tongue— anything to relieve the weight of desperation that settles heavy on your stomach. and before your hips can involuntarily wiggle against his face in search of respite, alhaitham is already tugging your panties to the side to place a sweet, lingering kiss on your clit. 

you tremble at the sudden heat, soft features overcome with a dazed expression as if that alone is enough to knock all the thought out of your pretty little head. “‘h-haitham, what’re you doing…”

“putting theory into practice.”

and then he’s licking up the length of your slit, collecting your sugary slick in the dip of his tongue before letting it dribble past his lips in a mix of saliva onto your swollen clit— giving it another kiss, and another, and then some— until your chest begins to heave with pitchy whispers of his name, candied with a burning behind your eyes from how badly you need more of him.

“patience, darling …” lips are replaced with a growing bulge as his face levels to meet your own, sapphire-tinged emerald dancing across your features, from the delicate pinch of your brows to the flex of your neck. al haitham presses into you deeper, your bare and puffy folds moulding to the shape of his cock through his slacks, drenching the fabric with your milky cream.

his crotch catches onto your clit and in an instant, you’re curling your fingers woefully into the linen of his shirt, puffing out hot air against his jaw as you sweetly keen into him— f-feels good, ‘haitham, feels s’good.

oh, what a pretty, tender, needy thing you are— clinging onto his bicep and painting his ivory skin with crescents of red, every slow grind of his clothed cock against your achy cunt drawing another eager, desperate whine from your throat. and you only fall more lightheaded as he nuzzles into your ankle dangling off his shoulder, kissing the bone before making quick work to remove the noisy anklet adorning it, because all he wants, needs to hear are the sounds he coaxes out of you; all the pitchy moans and cute little hums are the sweetest sounds to grace the earth, he’s absolutely sure of it.

“w-wan’… kiss…”

“what’s that?” he whispers against the inside of your knee, the swell of your breast, the hollow of your clavicle as he travels lipwards— covering every inch except the place you need to feel him most.

“i wanna kiss on my lips, ‘haitham!” you throw a tiny fit, and it’s nothing short of adorable when your tongue does a poor job of biting back your impatience. the uneven pout of your lips and the twitch of your nose have his veins aching with such a strong need to dote on you, tend to you until he rids you of the pain of your burning desire and all you’re able to voice is 50 different whimpers of his name.

“but if i kiss you here,” al haitham teases as he runs a thumb over the dainty curve of your mouth, stopping it at the swell of your bottom lip before releasing a strained laugh, chest knotted up with half-pleasure and half-pain, for all he wants to do is kiss and suck and lick and nibble the soft flesh— feed on it, even— and with a generosity wherein you’re ready to offer anything, everything, he’s almost positive you’d let him. “i’m afraid i won’t be able to stop.”

“don’t want you to stop… never ever.” your eyes are hazy with the light of the stars and you’re looking up at him with so much ardour, busying your lips with soft suckles on his finger while he hastily frees his cock from the confines of his slacks. and his gaze stays on you all the while— because you look so pretty like this and your words settle in the deepest depths of his soul and he thinks he could just devour you whole.

“never ever, hm?” he muses, eyes warm with mirth. you shiver and twitch under his gentle hold, where he kisses the corner of your parted lips, nosing along your cheek to place another on your brow, a final one against the hot lobe of your ear. his breath fans over your neck as he teases your little cunt open with his leaking tip, and you feel him smirk against your skin when you obediently spread your legs wider to accommodate his size. “you wouldn’t be able to eat or drink anything ever again.” 

it’s almost tragic— the soft, dreamy lulls of your head, the cute whimpers of his name, the saliva that pools and spills around the thumb he pops out of your mouth— he’s barely gotten the flushed head of his cock past your tight ring of muscle and you’re already so complacent, pliable, perfect for him. 

“don’t care… s’long as i have you,” you sniffle, fingers grappling weakly at the tufts of platinum and sage that curl around his neck, trying to lean up and bump your nose against his. “please, kiss me?”

and it’s in the way you ask him: with dew clinging to your lashes and a timid quiver to your breath that makes him submit all at once, because what kind of a person would he be to deny his lover when she asks so sweetly?

and just as al haitham’s lips meet yours, he’s reprimanding himself for not giving you a kiss sooner. because on your tongue he tastes the spice carried through the sumeru wind and zaytan peaches and all the fluttering pieces of romantic prose you eat and gosh— alhaitham is the furthest thing from a poet— but surely, he doesn’t need any kama sutra to teach him about the love he holds for you in his heart.

he kisses you and kisses you and kisses you some more— smirking against your lips when you sigh happily and melt into the palms that smooth up your waist, shaping you into the pretty princess of his that you are. “pretty little thing, aren’t you?

“uh huh, wanna be everything for you,” bringing your other leg to rest atop his shoulder, you respond wetly through the spit bubbling at your mouth and the blood that flows straight to your brain as he begins to fuck you languidly with his tip, watching your slick drip and ooze around the bulbous, red head.

he shushes your sobs sweetly, the pads of his thumbs dipping just at the edges of your eyes to collect any tears before they have a chance to be shed. “shhh— f-fuck— s’okay, you’re doin’ so well— doing so well for me.”

you begin to pant against the hollow of his neck as he eases his full length into you, all the ridges and veins decorating his cock that you’ve come to memorize over the months perfectly snug against the tightness of your delicate walls. his head falls forwards and his forehead bumps against yours, a harsh, erotic groan escaping him when your little cunt begins to squeeze and clench around his cock, sucking him in further, further, all the way until he’s knocking at the sponge of your cervix and his pubic bone is flush against your clit.

your hips jerk at the sharp pulses of pain and pleasure that build in your abdomen as he grinds into your womb— the sweetest, breathiest whines of ‘h-haitham, ‘haitham, s’big flood his brain because he’s deeper than he’s ever been, with the backs of your knees sticky against the bridge of his shoulders and your body quivering under him from how full you feel.

he does all he can to wash away the aching pinpricks in your tummy— sliding a palm between the couch and the back of your head to cradle it, pressing hot kisses over the apple of your cheek as he continues drawing his hips back and forth, back and forth, maintaining a steady rhythm with his cockhead as it slides against the sponge of your cervix.

and he continues fucking into your womb like this, thumb sliding in the thin space between his crotch and your clit to rub sloppy stars on the puffy nub, and— oh, it feels like heaven.

“feels like heaven?” he’s asking, charmed by your guileless wonder as you wrap your arms around his neck and meekly tug his face closer to yours, rubbing your nose against his cheek like a puppy endeared to her owner.

“mhm, feel you here, ‘haitham… in my tummy,” you giggle in ecstasy, at the thought of his cock twitching wildly in you and his cum filling you up there, hot and sticky and oozing like sweet milk down your thighs— you want it so bad; you want it everywhere— in your womb, dousing your skin and in every crevice, in your brain. to have him mark you with his seed as a physical manifestation of his love, fuck, you think you might cry.

and you do, because you want him— all of him so, so bad.

you sniffle when you feel the tears rush down your face and al haitham can only groan at how overwhelming everything is: the wild pounding of his heart against his ribs and the starry night reflected in your eyes and your walls hugging his cock so tight like it loves it. 

“h-hey now, ‘m gonna cum if you keep sucking me in like that— f-fuck.” 

he’s worked you up to that soft, dreamy headspace— where you’re hiccupping on shallow breaths and your bambi eyes are glazed over with honey and the words come tumbling out of your pretty lips before you have a chance to think them through. “cum in me— pretty please, wan’ your cum in my tummy, wan’ it everywhere—oh!"

it’s all so much, and it’s all too fast, because it’s only been a short while but your words send a glow of mind-numbing pleasure through his head, down his chest to his cock— and then he’s cumming— thrusts jerky before he plunges into you completely, spurt after spurt of thick white ribbon filling your womb, flushing your limbs full of warmth. and you’re right there with him, as the head of his cock twitches and drags over that spot nestled deep in your cunt and his thumb continues its assault on your clit, gravelly voice spewing sweet nothings into your hair while you keen for him sweetly.

and it’s so pretty— you’re so pretty when you cry, so pretty when you cum— he tells you as he clears your face of any stray hairs before thumbing your tears away. the next few moments are silent and he takes them to admire you, the heave of your chest as your breath steadies, the almost doll-like pout of your lips, the precious way you suck your cheek in between your molars to defy the flustered grin that forms under the curious gaze of your lover.

“don’t hide from me.” he speaks to your lips as he gently tugs the skin free from between your teeth, the most tender smile gracing his face when you begin to giggle shyly, eyes beaming with starlight and mouth curved up like the softest of petals. “so long as lips shall kiss, and eyes shall see, so long lives this, and this gives life to thee.”

another passage from the kama sutra, you presume. the delivery of the line, words thick and dripping affection like molasses would’ve made you swoon if it weren’t for the mere fact that it was al haitham saying them. in a failed attempt to suppress the onslaught of laughter, you suck you bottom lip into your mouth, only for al haitham to tut you with a playful roll of his eyes and a shake of his head.

“i suppose such poetry is unbefitting for me, huh?”

your legs slot under his arms to wrap around his waist more comfortably, heels resting against his back dimples and fingers tracing hearts over the dips and grooves of his biceps. he’s picked it up as one of your habits— something you do when you feel particularly endeared to him. “you should leave the lovey-dovey stuff to me.”

perhaps you’re right, he tells you through bated breath— perhaps he’s the furthest thing from a poet, a romantic, but there’s no denying how you make him feel like he could compose the greatest love story in all the universe— and it’s silly, he thinks, how madly in love with you he is, how that love defies all sense of logic in his mind. 

perhaps al haitham is the furthest thing from a poet, but if you were to tell him he was your world, he would tell you that you’re everything that makes the world good and beautiful and pure. tell him you’d die without him, and he’d tell you that he could still exist without you, but that’s all he’d ever manage to do. you can say that every day spent with him is like a story, and he’d tell you that you make him feel like he’s living in a fairytale— every second of every day.

but al haitham is a scholar, not a romantic, and such poetry is unbefitting for him. right?

from coco ๑‧₊˚ ෆ i squealed a whole lot while writing this .. my littl baby boy my prince my moon my sun my stars my everything ! i lov u so much so much so much so much foreva n’ eva n’ eva ;;n;; ! comments + reblogs + feedback of any kind ! r supa ! dupa appreciated !! thankies a billi for reading ໒꒰ྀི∩´͈ ᐜ `͈∩꒱ྀིა

[deartoru]

Quick question since I am genuinely curious. Who do you think is my f/o of the year

[deartoru]

thirsty thoma thoughts please if you have try time, if you have anything filthy I want FILTHY because I know that man would take anything you give him with a smile on his face

—WEAK TO YOU | THOMA

♡ tags ;; arranged marriages, reader is from an unnamed but powerful clan, unqualified genshin writing, handjobs + fingering (no penetration), fem + afab reader, reader is wearing a dress, thoma is a bit subby

♡ wc ;; 1.6k

♡ a/n ;; anon this got SO out of hand so sorry.

"We're going to get caught."

"So?"

Thoma's expression twists into something unreadable - hands gliding over your waist as you push him up against the wall. Your breathing has gone soft and even as you lean into him with force and purpose.

"Would you rather not?" You pose, innocent. His eyes widen. You both know the answer is no, the half-mast in his pants giving it all away. Still, you offer the suggestion earnestly. Curious on whether he'll indulge your whims or if he'll push you off in embarrassment. Neither idea makes you angry.

Rather, pushing Thoma's buttons in such a way is delightfully amusing. For someone so happy and amicable — responsible really, you would've never expected him to be so easily flustered. That he'd crumble like fragile glass over even the most innocent of gestures. Your fiancé is always surprising you.

The proposal wasn't your doing, but your parents. It's an old story. You, the child of a powerful clan, finally at marriageable age. Like other things in your life - your responsibility in regards to your position overshadowed most everything else. Whims of love and fleeting romances were nothing more than fantasies to idly muse at. Most men who proposed to you were threatened by your presence and couldn't look you in the eye.

While your mother encourages you with warm words of her own love story, you've never once experienced something even close. The pleasant emotions and giddiness seemed foreign Many have tried to incite it in you but none succeeded. They think you're sheltered—that you'll be swayed by sweet words and expensive gifts. Truly, you found most of them pathetic. How boring.

Soon it became tedious. You weren't looking for someone to love. Just someone who didn't outright disgust you. Handsome and capable. It should've been an easy request you think but apparently not so.

Thoma was a happy accident. When you went into Komore Teahouse to meet him, you were sure it'd be another fluke.

But he exceeded all your expectations in the first five minutes you spoke to him. Firstly, he had no issue talking to you as if you were normal. Probably in part to his connection to the Kamisato clan. Secondly, he was very handsome. His green eyes were striking. He was friendly and pleasant.

When coming on the question of why he agreed to such a thing since he has no family ties, he sheepishly told you his companion encouraged him. Ayato Kamisato, who had once been in Thoma's same seat. The two of you ended things mutually, though not because you detested him. Apparently Ayato thought Thoma would be perfect fit for you.

And he was right—because you were terribly charmed by Thoma indeed. You don't really understand your mothers musings of love. It was then you realized perhaps you had a peculiar taste in men. You didn't want someone like your mother described, you wanted Thoma.

You told him as much almost immediately, and thus you've been engaged been engaged for nearly a year. Your father approved so it's set in stone. Every once in a while, you ask Thoma if he'd like to break-up just to tease him, but by now he admantly rejects the even the though. Always asking sweetly if he's upset you somehow.

Maybe because it's your natural position. Your job in being always respectable, always polite, always upright—that Thoma is someone you want so much. Like a puppy, always ready to listen. Who doesn’t expect anything from you but affection.

You like it about him, and you like more how innocent he is. Up until meeting him, your sexual desires were fleeting. Things you took care of privately with no interest in losing your virginity until marriage, under the assumption that you'd marry someone you find decent.

You didn't know you were so lewd until you met him. Clumsy but persistent to fulfill a life-long set of dormant urges. You didn't know you were so sadistic either.

That's why you can't help but approach him like this. It's the first time he's been allowed in your room with you alone and he's played the part of filial son-in-law better than you expected.

It's unkind to be like this to him. You can't help yourself though.

"O-of course, but your father is home. And your housekeeper is outside the door—"

"You've been staring at my neck all evening haven't you?" You hum. You feel him shift under you, bed creaking as shimmy forward until your legs are on either side of his thighs. He's red in the face.

"That's..."

"Did you think I wouldn't see you? Your eyes wander every time I walk. Right at slit where you can see my legs, isn't it?"

"Please be merciful." He pleads, voice thick. You pout.

"Why should I when you won't even touch me? Do I not tempt you?"

"Love," He says, breathy and desperate. You wrap your arms around his neck, heart thumping. How handsome he is never fails to make you weak "Don't even joke about that"

"Since you asked politely." You shift your weight again until your core is pressed over the fabric. You let the material of your outfit slip down your shoulders - neck exposed and breasts nearly bare. "I've listened to your request, won't you listen to mine?"

His hand sneaks up under your dress, the flowy material swishing as he slides it up. Squeezing the back of your thigh, he guides your hips towards him with a harsh sigh.

"We have to be quiet." He says ragged. You hum.

"And?"

"N-no more than this until we're married, okay?"

"How chivalrous of you." You say teasing. It's a bit funny that he's considerate in this way. You can see how much he wants it but the guilt insists he draws this line. You've married him for such things as this "No more, of course."

"Then," He takes a deep breath, warm green gaze peering at you through blonde lashes "Let me see."

You let the rest of the material fall of your body until you're completely bare. Nipples hardened, Thoma's gaze immediately travels down. You stand on your knees to take off what's underneath too, but you leave the dress on just in case. The material bunches at your waist as you pull it up. Thoma takes to holding it like. Pussy bare, you spread yourself apart for him to see. A thin string of sticky arousal as you pull yourself apart.

"Oh, Archons, you're—I mean, really."

"Will you only look?"

His hands still manage to hesitate. A sharp inhale, he lets his fingers trace the outside of your folds. Soft and gentle as usual, you'll touch each other just like this. Almost out of habit, his mouth finds your chest. Kisses on your sternum where your breast bone dips, mouth sucking and biting wherever he pleases. You moan softly at the sensation, a wave of euphoria starting at your center and splintering off.

He rubs your clit with the utmost care, in circles - just like how you taught him. His eyes are heavy, blinking slowly and drunk. You feel yourself drip onto his fingers. Syrupy and thick. You want to touch him, to feel his cock weep against your hand.

"I want to touch you." You assert through a breath "Won't you let me?"

You question him like this only because you know he's weak. Of course he'll let you. He stops everything to slide his pants down just far enough that his cock is free. Standing to attention, red tip already so achy. Seeing it makes your mind feel hazy, anticipation like a plague coursing through your veins.

"It'd be nice if we could marry sooner." You say smoothly. Thoma chokes, watches as you spit into your hand and wrap your palm around his shaft. "To feel you inside of me. I can't help but wonder. How would that feel? Of course I like your hands. They're much better than mine but—"

"Than yours?" He questions. You giggle.

"Did you think I were some pure innocent flower? I'm a lady with needs."

You do this in tandem. Your hands fisted around Thoma's cock while he slowly spreads you apart with his fingers. Gasping quietly when he intrudes, his palm up against your clit to give you the right type of tension. Desire swells in your stomach like a balloon when you hear him groan underneath you. You keep your movement steady.

"Than you...? To yourself?"

"Just with my fingers." He throbs in your hand. The faint redness in his skin suddenly becomes bright and his hands jitters in nervousness as he fucks you with his fingers. You roll your hips with a smile "Oh, I see."

"I like it better when you do it." You tease, feeling your core tighten as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. You can hear how wet you are. The flush in his skin and his desire for you turn you on "Y-your fingers are much better."

"Please. Please, I need you to—please."

He wants you to finish for him. He always waits for you. You moan as you clench around his fingers, the muscles in your body tightening as the knot slowly comes undone. Like the tension of a taut rope, you feel something your body snap. Heat crawls up your spine as you cum, hard enough that you tuck your chin and bit your lip to mask the sound. The postion has your thighs trembling. Re-opening your eyes, you glance down at his cock.

He looks out of it. Twitching so hard and so full of desire but keeping himself restrained patiently. How thoughtful.

"You can cum, Thoma." You say, sweetly. His head nearly knocks into the wall from where he throws it back. His adams apple bobbing. You use your free hand to cover his mouth, content it as he cums hard. Thick and white as it spills between your fingers.

When he opens his eyes again, he looks about ready to cry. You tilt your head.

"We were so loud." He says with a frown. You can't help but laugh at his reaction.

"Don't worry, darling." You coo, pressing a kiss to his hairline "I'd marry you even if my Father chased you out."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

[deartoru]

like you were written for me (ii)

summary: in which i read a lot of pretty things that remind me of a lot of genshin impact characters (back by popular demand, tysm for the support! you all own my heart).

featuring: albedo, childe, dainsleif, diluc, itto, kaeya x gn!reader (seperately)

cw: mentions of childe's real name

personal favorites: childe, dainsleif

a/n: i'm sorry for being mia!! school is killing me slowly hard. also,,, sorry for always giving kaeya angst. i don't even mean to, it's just so fitting for him. T^T ALSO! this is x gn!reader but please let me know if they are any pronouns slips that i may have missed :) enjoy loves!! <3

albedo k. — "from the base of her neck, to the arch of her eyelids, her beauty made a slave of me." adonis.

the air was unsettled as you posed against the rocky perch; a faint breeze working rosiness into your cheeks and goosebumps up your arms. to your back was the ocean blue and to your front was the white of your lover's hair.

albedo sat neatly in the green of the earth, his paintbrush dancing colors across the white canvas in front of him. painting was his passion, and you, his muse. like a true daughter of mnemosyne, you were an endless source of inspiration for him, a constant tickling of his senses and thoughts. he felt like a prisoner, the way your soul captured his own.

but just like he never thought of himself a genius, neither did you consider yourself a model. he almost found it funny, how you could spew praise but never take it. he loved that humble character of yours, but he also wanted to rid you of it. even if for only a moment, he wanted to see you fall for the sight of your image, like he did with each waking moment.

the belly of his brush maneuvered around the portrait, it's bristles staining the linen as it went. various pigments were quick to flood the piece, and it's whiteness soon drowned in the care of it. albedo delicately traced your features into the art, loving the way the brush spiraled over each curve and drifted over every detail. from the base of your neck, to the arch of your eyelids, your beauty made a slave of him.

"albedo, can i finally see it?" your eyes pointed to the eisel.

his lips curved into a soft smile, pleased by your eagerness. he extended his hand towards you, saying, "come here, love."

childe — "that's the trouble with loving a wild thing: you're always left watching the door." edith pattou.

you laid sprawled underneath the covers of your shared bed, cheek pressing against the pillow. though your body sat still, your eyes danced at the door.

ajax was always a busy man—that simply came with his job of being a harbinger. thus, most nights consisted of you under the covers, curtains sheltering you from the moonlight, awaiting his return. most nights, that return never came. but some nights, nights like this one, a certain red-haired loverboy would finally walk through the wooden entryway and join you in your reverie.

his arms were quick to consume you, gently wrapping around your torso. his head found a home in your neck, the tops of his hair pressing against your nose. his affections were typically more dominating, for he much preferred your head to be cradled by his chest, but the fatigue from his work kept him from caring. beggers can't be choosers, as they say.

and it's not as if he could claim to be uncomfortable either, the layering of your bodies was the warmth he needed on any cold snezhnayan night.

ah, snezhnaya. the land of his hearth and home that oddly seperated him from you, his strength and stay. he originally joined the fatui to quench his thirst for battle, to provide a wealth of challenges to test his might; but, it would seem the greatest challenge now was fighting on the battlefield knowing what waited for him at home. though he was still very much enamoured by the feel of his hand clutched around a weapon, the affection he harbored for you grew by the minute.

because who, even a battle-hungry tool like himself, could resist the care of an angel on earth? the warmth of your smile, the softness of your touch? even now, as you both lie together, eyes lightly lidded and minds half-asleep, he finds his self-control depleted and his senses consumed by you. and, though he'd never admit it, he preferred it this way. despite considering himself a weapon, he'd rather fall ill with your love than die by the blade of the enemy.

as you laid there entangled, you both wanted nothing more than to be frozen in time—snuggled so close you shared a heartbeat. but this world was a cruel one, and dreams didn't always come true. a ringing noise from the corner of the bedroom demanded your lover's attention, and he groggily got up to heed it's call. in no more than a minute, ajax's tired expression was off his face and his boots were on his feet. before setting off, he took your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of it, saying, "sorry, love. i'll be home soon."

and then he was gone, out the door in which he came. you were gutted, but it wasn't a new feeling. to be honest, this recurring sentiment kept you company longer than childe did. but you guessed that was just the trouble with loving a wild thing: you were always left watching the door, waiting for him to walk back through it.

dainsleif — "in the crooks of your body, i find my religion." sappho.

dainsleif was never a holy man, the word itself left a bad taste in his mouth. recently, however, he has found himself following someone like the apostles trailed the lord: you.

how he went from avoiding archons to making one out of you, he had no idea. for all he knew now was the sound of your voice and the way honey escaped your lips; the feel of his fingers between your hair and how he wouldn't mind getting tangled in it; the abyss that was your eyes and drowning in the depth of them.

not that he would ever want you to know that's how he felt. after the despair of his nation and the loss of his mortality, he doesn't want to lift you up only to make you fall. he knows the pain of that feeling all too well. so while you said "hello" like an invitation, he said "goodbye" like a promise. but just as the gods broke their promises, so did he.

the twillight sword, named for his victories in battle, moved so gently as he pressed his body closer to your own. he was a dichotomy of sorts, his own personal paradox, with his person splintered into the roughness of his past and the softness of his future. he slipped an arm around your lower back and brought his other arm to rest over your head against the stone behind you, effectively trapping you between himself and a statue of the seven.

even with the close proximity, the blonde moved nearer still, and his pale hair could practically frame your own face.

"this seems rather sacreligious, does it not?" you breathed.

he gave a quick, indifferent glance to the anemo archon's statue pressing against your back. "i won't ask for his forgiveness. if anything, he would have to beg for mine." his words echoed in your ear and you could swear they were laced with poison.

"so you don't worship a god?"

he merely nodded in negation.

"what if i wanted you to worship me?"

"i would."

"you would?"

"yes," he held your body tighter, your gaze more intensely. "for in the crooks of your body, i find my religion."

in a final push against the stone diety, the knight closed the space between your lips; and, though he had never seen the inside of a church, his kiss was like a desperate prayer; fealty poured from his lips and your knees weakened with the taste of it. he kissed you like his life depended on it, like it was the only means by which he could achieve salvation.

his body consumed you—all you could sense was him. his scent tickled your nose; he smelled like sin. his taste flooded your mouth; he tasted like paradise. he was a cursed child of heaven and hell, and you wanted all of him.

diluc r. — "i could start fires with what i feel for you." david ramirez.

the hour hand was parallel and darkness consumed the sky. you didn't normally venture out this late, but you were struggling to sleep and desperately needed something besides laying open-eyed in bed to occupy your time. besides, the latern clutched in your left hand kept your vision dependable and your breathing even. did you really have anything to worry about?

yes. a lot of things, actually.

just after a few peaceful minutes alone, you heard crunching coming from behind, it's volume increasing in intensity as the seconds passed you by. it was a group of hilichurls beginning to trail you with their torches ablaze. you inwardly cursed yourself for your rash decisions and lack of preparedness and began your flee away from your pursuers. your heart beat acclerated with each step you took, the pads of your feet were stained with dirt and battered by tiny, loose branches.

you kept your face mostly forwards, only looking back to track your lead on them. but, as if it were someone's dying wish, your toes rammed into the edge of a rock portruding out from the ground and your face high-fived the earth.

with your unexpected (but not surprising) fall, you found yourself surrounded by a gang of fire-wielding hilichurls, all thirsting for blood. your blood, to be specific.

sighing in defeat, you slid your eyelids close and anticipated your end. or at least, a pain of some kind. but that feeling never came. hesistantly, you blinked your eyes open to find a man dressed in black swinging an enflamed claymore at your foes. with this man's sheer might, you kind of felt sorry for the little creatures, even though they tried to kill you mere moments ago. when the figure finished ridding the area of the hilichurls, the moonlight revealed his features as he turned to face you.

your mouth formed an "o" as you chuckled sheepishly, "um, thank you, diluc."

your relationship with the wine tycoon was...complicated. it could perhaps be best described as lot's of actions left undone and lots of words left unsaid.

his anger was tangible as he half-screamed, "why in teyvat are you out in the middle of the woods so late?"

"i couldn't sleep," your voice was barely audible.

though his anger was suffocating, you saw something else in his features besides fury. was it longing? desire? whatever it was, it looked alien on him.

silence was quick to consume the air between you, awkward glances and tense facial expressions the only communication ensuing. only with this quiet did you realize how close you were to him—so close you could cup his jaw with your palm. eventually, your mouth grew an itch that you needed to scratch. gathering confidence, you finally spoke.

"why are you looking at me like that?" your question was a whisper.

"like what?"

"like there's a flame behind your eyes."

"because i could start fires with what i feel for you." his reply was an oath.

he leaned in, lips touching lips, and all time seemed to stop. no longer did you hear the ticking of the clock, all that remained now was the beating of your heart and his. his kiss was heated in the way that made your toes curl and warm in the way that touched your heart at the same time.

he pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, asking, "and who wants to see the person they love mauled to death in the woods?"

as he brought his lips back to yours, you could feel his tounge slip into your mouth, a gentle yet insistent intrusion, and your body melted into his. you ran your fingers through his crimson hair, silently begging for more.

you were already so close—the pads of his fingers pressing desperately into your back, your legs wrapped around his torso, your scents mixing into a new genre of fragerence—but you wanted more. more, more, more.

itto a. — "his arms became a set of parentheses bracketing the sweetest secret phrase." christina lauren, love and other words

itto reminded you of the time old saying, a bull in a china shop. he was the notoriously clumsy harbinger of misfortune; but, while everyone else thought that to be a deal breaker, you found it to be an endearing part of the "arataki the-one-and-oni itto" package. some of your fondest memories with him were a product of his blundering behavior. one such memory was your first kiss:

waves rocked the wood beneathed your feet. you and itto had been taking a relaxing day trip on the ocean, simply cruising across the waves in each other's company. with the gentle dea breeze caressing your face and the sun's rays warming your skin, it was the most pacific day. until your lover spotted some fish, that is. with the weather as perfect as it was, it was not surprising that the purple-colored fish came out to play, their forms become visible as the neared the sea's surface. itto, his big arms and all, started paddling his palms through the water, thrashing about in an attempt to catch one.

"what in teyvat-" he couldn't see your face, but he could hear the smile in your voice.

"listen, you won't be laughing like that later when i catch you a new pet!"

looking back, he was kind of right—you certainly weren't laughing when this oaf of an oni fell overboard into the water and exclaimed, "help! i can't swim!" despite your shock, you curved your body over the helm of your small, shared boat and attempted to lug himback onboard. you didn't think you could do it, but, albeit arms straining, you managed to fish him out.

despite this feat, you soon realized that you can take an oni out of the water but you can't take the water out of an oni. since his eyes were still lidded even after slapping his face with the force of a thousand suns, you made an emergency decision: positioning yourself over his body, you pressed your lips to his, making your air his air. now, this wasn't as romantic as it sounds—you performed some wild chest compressions immediately afterwards. to your surprise, your rough first-aid skills did the job. itto's lashes slowly parted, revealing those two red eyes you adored so much.

between coughs, your lover exclaimed, "yo, i just had the coolest dream! we we're crusing on a boat and then some fish surfaced the water and then i tried to catch one and then i fell in-" his voice trailed when he saw the pair of humor and concern dancing in your eyes.

"i wasn't dreaming?"

"no."

"i almost drowned?"

"yes."

"you kissed me?"

"it's called CPR, you perv."

"well, could ya' do it again?"

laughing, you folded over the oni, your chest coming to rest on his. hands cupping his cheeks, you pressed a light and playful kiss against his lips. he moved his hands up to your shoulder blades and his arms thus became a set of parenthesis bracketing the sweetest phrase: you. fully trapped in itto's arms, your light pecks grew deeper with each passing second, leaving you breathless when you finally parted.

noticing your dazed expression, he gave you a smug smirk, saying, "told ya' you wouldn't be laughing later."

...you threw him back off the boat.

kaeya a. — "if you are intolerable, let me be the one to tolerate you." andrea gibson, lord of the butterflies.

a knock on the door stirred you from your slumber. flinging the duvet cover off your body, you wobbled towards to the front door of your mondstadt apartment. with a twist of your hand, the wooden entryway creaked open and revealed a pair of estranged brothers. the red-head stood steadily, acting as a pillar for his younger, highly intoxicated yet somehow concious brother.

"would you take him?"

"why would i not?"

you and diluc gently exchanged the fumbling calvary captain, muttering quiet "goodnights" as you went. kaeya's weight shifted onto to your shoulders and you helped maneuver him to a seat at your kitchen table as the older brother took his leave. your fingers held his chin, forcing his face to look at yours. your eyes searched his face, spotting beads of sweat framing his abnormally pale face. knowing he was in need of water, you swiped your index and middle finger through the air, conjuring a stream of water with your hydro vision. you slowly funnelled the adam's ale into his mouth, letting him swallow every drop.

"would you like something to eat? some toast maybe?" you questioned him softly.

he shook his head in negation, but his eyes betrayed him. you knew he wanted something to munch on, so you turned to prepare him some toast; but, it would appear that even his inebriated reflexes were faster than your sober ones. his hands jumped to your waist, holding you in place between his legs. "you don't have to do that. you should go back to bed," he began, his voice hoarse. "i'll be-"

"fine?" you scoffed. "kaeya, you can't lie and expect me to not notice. diluc of all people just dropped you off on my doorstep like a lost kitten. no, you are not fine. yes, i am getting you some food."

"but you shouldn't have to work yourself up over someone like me."

"someone like you?"

"someone self-destructive and sardonic. a glutton, a gimmick. an intolerable individual."

you gave him a tender smile, "well, you must not be too drunk if you can articulate all those fancy words," you pushed the hair out of his eyes before pressing on. "darling, if you are self-destrutive, let me piece you back together. if you are a glutton, let me give you more to take. if you are a gimmick, let me see the real you. if you are intolerable, let me be the one to tolerate you."

holding his stare, your words echoed through the room. you only hoped it had echoed in his mind too.

begrudgingly, kaeya dropped his hands, allowing you to retrieve something from the kitchen behind you. you topped some sourdough with bananas and honey, serving them on a ceramic plate. you sat with him as he had, using your melody to distract him from the voice inside his head. the conversation was a simple as "is the food okay" and "how was your day," but you could see the tension leave his shoulders with every word that left your lips.

with his last bite, his nerves finally calmed. you prayed this peace would never leave him.

-> likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! <3

[deartoru]

𝐈'𝐌 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒, 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄... !

❝ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄. thought about how these genshin men would show their jealousy in public so here r some quick hc's

❝ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒. tighnari, cyno and al-haitham.

❝ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. written with female reader in mind; can still be read as gender neutral. slightly suggestive themes but still sfw. possessiveness. NOT beta read / proof read.

𝐓𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈

⌗ SHOWS HIS JEALOUSY THROUGH SUBTLE HINTS / CLUES, SUCH AS HOLDING YOU CLOSER TO HIM IN PUBLIC.

it was a rather windy saturday evening and you two were heading back home from an entire day of checking the multiple withering zones that recently appeared around the rainforest.

as you walked on the bridge in the gandharva village that headed towards tighnari's study room, you were instantly greeted by a familiar male figure.

your eyes widened the moment you figured out who it was. “you're..” you slowly mumble, trying hard to remember his name. it was right on the tip of your tongue before your thought process was interrupted.

“yes, i'm the man who you had saved from a group of fatui the other day!” his eyes are basically shining with admiration while he looks at you. “i came here to personally thank you for your courageous act.”

out of excitement, the man clasps both of your hands into his, closing the long distance between the two of you by stepping closer and placing your intertwined hands in the middle.

you shoot him a big smile in return before asking about his well-being. you were extremely glad to be able to reunite with him since you were worried about his safety all night long.

as you had your little conversation with the sumeran citizen you had rescued, you could feel tighnari's eyes burn holes in the back of your head. you had totally forgotten about your boyfriend as you were dealing with the other man.

tighnari wasn't much of a social butterfly. he usually stands behind you whenever you meet someone you recognize— patiently waiting for you to be done so he could continue his once interrupted conversation with you. therefore, tighnari only speaks when spoken to or when he has something important to share.

however this time it was different. he saw how the other man got close to you, thanking you with the biggest smile on his face - and the one thing that bothered him the most - is how the man continously held onto your hands.

your boyfriend understands that its his way of showing gratitude, but that was pushing it for him. his piercing eyes were focused on your hands, watching each and every slight movement as he held his own gloved hands behind his back.

it was hard to be polite to the stranger in such a situation, though that also didn't mean that he could just snap because of a simple matter. if tighnari were to tell the man to back off, maybe you would become dissappointed by his overprotective actions instead.

“they simply are amazing, aren't they?” tighnari finally makes his presence known to the man in front of you by joining the conversation. he slowly stands closer to your body as his hand travels along your back.

“i'm glad to hear that you are safe and sound, sir.” you could feel tighnari's hand holding you by your waist, just slightly pulling you towards his body in attempt to make it unnoticeable to the other person.

looking at your boyfriend's face, you could easily notice that fake welcoming smile he wore as he continued talking to the citizen in a kind tone of voice. not only that; his fingers toyed with the fabric of your clothes— pulling and twisting the material while he nonchalantly tried to get you even closer to him.

it was also the first time that tighnari was actively engaging into a conversation with someone that he just recently met via you. almost everything gave it away; from his body language to his actions: he is jealous.

𝐂𝐘𝐍𝐎

⌗ WILL LITERALLY SCARE PEOPLE AWAY WITH JUST HIS DEATH STARES AND PRESENCE IF THEY TRY TO ACT TOO CLOSE WITH YOU

you were heading towards the local market in sumeru city— basket ready to be filled with all the delicasies you could find. you were planning to surprise your boyfriend with one of his favorite dishes since he had been working hard to protect the peace in sumeru.

you know that he needs a break; it was futile of him to hide his fatigue from you. you could feel the tiredness radiate from his figure the moment he came home and collapsed on your own body on your shared bed.

“good afternoon! can i get four of these, please?” you point to a basket which was filled with tons of zaytun.

“ah, [y/n]! i haven't seen you in a while!” the owner of the stall greets you excitedly as he picks up what you needed.

“sorry, i've been too busy lately to stop by.” you giggle and gently grab the bag from his hands.

since there weren't many customers around, you both took the opportunity to hold a small chat. it was true that you hadn't had that much time to visit the local market. all the piled up work had been tough to deal with.

that's also why your little conversation was extremely needed; the relaxation you felt as you laughed and spoke about what had been bothering you to the man in front of you was indescribable.

however, what you failed to notice in the meantime was the intimdating aura that sneaked up closer and closer to where you had been standing. normally you would instantly recognize who it was, yet this time you were too late.

“u– uhm..” the owner of the stall coughs awkwardly; almost as if he was in panic due to who or what he saw behind you. “g- good afternoon, general mahamatra..!”

you blink twice while you slowly process what was said. “..cyno?” you mumble confused, turning around to face the person behind you.

“oh, it's really you!” your eyes widen as you see your boyfriend stand there, one of his hand on his hip as the other holds onto his signature weapon.

his gaze wandered from the young man standing there nervously and then back to you. his eye twitched a bit at the sight; he was just trying to hold his small break from work together with you, however instead, he gets slapped in the face with this situation in front of him.

you were happily engaging in a conversation with someone who cyno knew had some romantic feelings for you. it was noticeable the moment he had visited this specific stall with you for the first time a couple months ago. you were simply oblivious to the hints the street vendor dropped.

cyno hid his face a bit from you by holding his head low, letting his bangs cover his cold expression in attempt to calm himself down. within a split second, his head was up again— the intimidating aura and facial expression erased from existence.

“good afternoon.” the general mahamatra responds swiftly. you cock your head to the right as you question why he was here; after all, he told you that he wouldn't be able to see you until late at night.

“there was a change in my schedule.” cyno replies while he still took quick looks at the vendor. almost in a 'get the hint and fuck off' type of way. “i was around the area and had been told that you were spotted at the market, so i decided to check in on you.”

you chuckle at his explanation as you throw you arms around your lover's neck— giving him a tight hug; one that you missed as much as he did.

“let's take a quick break together then!” you excitedly jump from one leg to another. linking your arm with his, you throw in a quick 'see you around!' to the friendly street vendor before heading off to the nearest restaurant.

as you chatted away about your plans, cyno turned around to give the young man one last sneaky death stare before focusing on you again. to your great surprise, your boyfriend gave you a soft kiss on the forehead while you were mid sentence; he surely wasn't the one to initiate such stuff in public.

when you asked him about it, cyno was quick to change topics. little did you know that that action of his was directed towards the street vendor— who had seen it all happen like your boyfriend had intended to.

𝐀𝐋-𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌

⌗ ACTS COOL ABOUT IT BUT "SUBTLY" TRIES TO AVERT YOUR ATTENTION FROM THE SOURCE THAT CAUSED HIM TO GET JEALOUS

an hour had passed by since you had sat down at your favorite spot in the puspa café with your lover, carefully listening to the storyteller who was non-stop talking about all kinds of rumors and such.

the man was good at his job; he knew just how to grab your attention with all the various and funny jokes in-between his stories.

al-haitham stared at the storyteller and then back at you, who sat on the chair right in front of him. he didn't expect this outcome when he asked you to go out today— to have you almost fully ignore his existence the moment the storyteller began talking.

your date started out great. al-haitham saw how much it meant to you; spending quality time together for the first time in a while. the happy expression you wore on your face ever since you saw him at your doorstep made your boyfriend's heart skip a beat. he missed you like crazy.

... thus exactly why the current situation had started to piss him off a little.

al-haitham didn't say anything the entire time; he didn't even pay any attention to the man in the center of the room— his eyes were only on you. he noticed every single change of emotions on your face while the stories were being told.

sure, your presence around him was enough to keep him satisfied, but not for long.

despite his feelings, he didn't want to ruin the mood by continously interrupting the stories with all kinds of questions or comments. if you chose to listen to the storyteller instead of him, then that's up to you.

he will tolerate anything that makes you happy, yet this time it was hard to do so.

he needed your attention on him.

suddenly, the whole room burst into a fit of laughter, which included you. it was the work of the storyteller as expected. the storyteller looked at you while he chuckled at the reactions to his joke and you were giggling while staring at him too.

that was the last straw for the akademiya's scribe.

“sweetheart..” al-haitham whispers while his hand gently holds onto yours. “your food is going to get cold at this rate.”

“oh! yes, thank you. i almost forgot heh..” you chuckle as you recall the joke. taking a bite out of your sandwhich, you finally looked up at al-haitham.

it was clear that something was bothering him, even though his facial expression didn't show much. you could still feel the slightly tight grip he had on your hand— it seemed like he didn't have the intention to let go.

“you okay?” you ask after swallowing the food in your mouth. you could see him secretly try to steal a glance at someone in the room and when you followed his gaze, you saw who he was glaring at.

“ah..” you bite your lip as you finally connected the dots. you felt guilty for not noticing it sooner.

“then! for the next story..!” the storyteller suddenly speaks up, catching the attention of everyone in the room once again.

al-haitham clenched his jaw as he slowly faced you, hoping that you were focusing on eating your food instead. his eyes slightly widened as he realized that you were staring at him this time and not the storyteller.

“..sorry, uhm, did you say something?” your lover sighs in relief, still holding onto your hand as if he was scared that by letting go, he'd lose your attention again.

al-haitham takes a quick sip from his tea to calm his nerves, however you were quick to notice his eye twitch before he fully closed them to savor the taste of the flavourful liquid.

“hmm..” you humm, leaning your upper body towards him. “are you mayhaps.. jealous?”

your whisper made the scribe almost fully choke on his tea. coughing, al-haitham slightly shakes his head. “w— cough— why would i be jealous?”

“oh, come on!” you laugh a bit louder while you watch al-haitham try his best to regain composure. “it's sooo obvious that you are!”

your partner couldn't look you in the eyes at the moment and that only confirmed your assumptions.

al-haitham always looks anywhere but at you whenever he's lying. it was a cute habit of his that you discovered rather quickly.

he doesn't have a problem with deceiving anyone else right in their face; holding eye contact while telling all kind of lies and excuses to them wasn't a hard task. although, the scribe was weak when it came to you.

“no, it isn't obvious.” al-haitham coughs one last time as he tries to hide the embarrassment on his face by looking down at the dishes on the table.

“oh? then that means that you don't deny that you are jealous.” you cackle, holding onto your stomach as it began to hurt due to the laughter. there were even tears in your eyes.

your lover opened his mouth to defend himself, however no words came out as he caught a glimpse of that joyful expression of yours.

the corners of his lips curled up into a small smile as he watches you try to catch your breath.

he'll let you have your fun by teasing him all you want tonight. at least this once you were laughing because of him and not someone else.

𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 + 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃!

❝ TAGLIST. @stygianoir @rysexblog @cirrustix @yanderewithvenom @solomons-cooking69 @inu1gf @bonehug @empatheticanimegodess @luvbladez @haithamuse @lemontum

++ @r-oronoa @squicksquak @godhatesyouandi

[deartoru]

Christmas with them i 🎄

streamer! xiao, dainsleif, diluc, zhongli, scaramouche, aether x reader

ft— xiao, dainsleif, diluc, zhongli, scaramouche, aether warnings—angst for scaras past??(but modernize it…) and angst for aether’s, they are dating, long. a/n— gn! reader, bro i absolutely LOVE and adore Christmas, like?!?!?! the presents, the Christmas songs, seeing people happy, the decorations make me so happy. i actually feel like crying because of how much i love Christmas LMAO, hope you enjoy this Christmas specialty! more coming too! and maybe a christmas with them but norm au. something is different about my writing and i hate it.

recommend listening to: all i want for Christmas - mariah carey(sped up) + december - ariana grande + last christmas - wham!

Keep reading

[deartoru]

tags: 18+ minors dni, fem reader, cockwarming, overstimulation, size difference hinted, sadistic zhongly my beloved, dacryphilia

synopsis: thinking so strongly of zhongli and how he loves for you to cockwarm him.

he keeps you in his lap, thighs at his hips and bare compared to his dressed form. even his hands are still gloved and his thumb stays rubbing at the pearl of your clit even as you whine and cry that it’s too much for you.

zhongli is a mercifully lover - compared to what he was like as morax but surely you can understand how pleasurable it feels when you cream around his cock? how you tightened and dripped down to the curve of his balls; how you hide your face in his neck only to moan, whimper and whine right into his ear?

“you can take it my blossom. my lovely beauty you can take all that i want to give you can’t you?”zhongli whispers into the crown of your head and all you can do in return is sniffle as you finish again around his veined shaft. the head of his cock presses dead on to the spongy spot of your cunt - you tremble upon him and his hand settles to keep you still, rings cool against the curve of your hip.

zhongli does not abandon his composure, pleasure feels akin to resting in a hot spring while he’s sure pleasure burns within you like wild fire. maybe there is still some morax left within him, the heat sadistically rises with each hiccuped sob of his name that you let out. it boils with each time you cum around his cock. he wonders if it will spill just as his seed does when pressed against your womb?

‘well’, he thinks as amber eyes take in how fall apart on his lap for the third time, breasts heaving from your orgasm, ‘only time will tell won’t it?’

[deartoru]

MDNI 18+

Mikasa putting her hands on your hips, tip of the silicone cock pressed against your entrance. Your hands are pressed against the wall with your ass jutting out towards Mikasa. Legs spread apart as her lips kisses your neck.

Mikasa when she slides the tip of the strap on deep inside you, causing you to gasp and dig your nails into the wall. Mikasa smirks and feels your cunt gripping the toy, making it impossible for her to move.

You whine as Mikasa grinds her hips against your ass making the toy press tight against your cervix. You whine quietly and let your head hang down. Mikasa moves your hair to the side and kisses your neck, whispering about how you’re her dirty little whore that would do anything for her cock.

Mikasa with her head between your thighs, tasting your cum, soft lips sucking on your clit as two fingers move inside you, curling around that spot that makes you see stars.

“Dirty girl.” Mikasa whispers and lightly pinches your ass as her fake cock is buried deep inside you. “Gonna fuck your pretty little cunt princess. Gonna give you a better orgasm then any man has ever given you.”

[deartoru]

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥

++ 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: megumi x fem!reader ++ 𝘀𝘆𝗽𝗻𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘀 (of series): with an unlikely friendship set in place, the relationship is doomed to fail with both families in raging in conflict. ++ 𝘀𝘆𝗽𝗻𝗼𝘀𝗶𝘀 (of chapter): you are forced to attend a masquerade ball with your stepmother, but you find more than what you bargained for. ++ 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: slight fluff and angst idk :sob: ++ 𝘁𝘄/𝗰𝘄: violence, abuse (?), and smoking ++ 𝘄𝗰: 1k ++ 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: want to be added to the taglist? send me an ask or a dm! taglist is currently open. ++ 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: hey hey lovelies!! i finally had some inspo to write and i pumped out a chapter of a series i've been putting off for so long! i hope u enjoy and likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated !! <33 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 || 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗼𝘂𝘀 || 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 || 𝗮𝗼𝟯

Two clans, alike in status have always fought over something so insignificant you could never wrap your head around it. The Gojo clan and the Zen’in clan have always been at each other's throats for as long as they have existed.

And you were __ Gojo.

The half-blood of the Gojo clan; a disgrace to the family. An unsightly bug that walked the surface of the earth. The only reason you were allowed into the family register was the fact that you possessed six eyes and the ability to use infinity. It is not like you had much of a choice either way. You had nobody left outside of your paternal family, and your mother? Well, that is a story for another time. However, the power of the Gojo clan is absolute, and so is the Zen’in clans. You were dragged into the world of nobles, without any prior knowledge.

-

That’s why you were here, at this mundane masquerade ball. All nobles and high-class people were the same. The sound of glasses clinking and empty chatter filled the air and halls of the ballroom. You trudged through the ballroom, escaping the empty banter of those around you. Your head throbbed from all of the bright lights and the noisy ballroom. You find a terrace nearby and head there for refuge, shocked to see someone was already standing at the edge of the terrace.

You look at the person’s form deducing that they’re a young man around your age. You walk up to the edge of the terrace, grabbing a box of cigarettes from your pocket. Leaning on the terrace railing, you grab a lighter from your pocket. You lazily light up the cigarette between your lips, exhaling a puff of smoke shortly after. You turn to the stranger next to you.

“Would you like a cigarette?” you uttered, your voice barely audible.

He nods in agreement before taking one of the cigarettes between his slender fingers.

“May I use your lighter?” the man inquired before you handed your lighter over to him.

You both shared a comfortable silence before finishing your cigarettes.

-

“What brought you here to the terrace?” You ask, staring into the landscape in front of you.

“I don’t like parties very much” he mumbled, turning his gaze towards you. “Neither do I, they’re quite bothersome in my opinion.” You blatantly stated as you turned toward the man standing next to you.

“I only come here because I’m forced to go.” You added.

“It’s an annoying thing we must do, unfortunately.” He replied, you nodded your head in agreement.

“The night sky looks quite beautiful tonight, others may say it’s boring but I find beauty in its simplicity.”

His eyes lit up hearing this statement. From that moment forward you shared a fruitful conversation with him. You don’t know how or why but you clicked with him instantly.

-

Your conversation with him was cut short as a shrill voice was heard outside the halls. It was your stepmother. You looked around frantically trying to find where she was before bidding the male goodbye.

“May I ask for your name?” You asked the black-haired male. “It’s Megumi, and you?” “My name is _.

You dashed off the terrace before making your way into the hallway to meet your stepmom there. “Where have you been, you insolent brat?!” Her shrill screams fill the ballroom as she speaks. “I was only looking for the restroom-” A harsh sting on your cheek and ringing in your ears cut you off. The taste of blood seeping into your mouth, this familiar sensation, the one of being slapped.

“Stop lying to me! You’ve been smoking again haven’t you?!” You stared into the woman’s eyes, face remaining expressionless.

“OH! For goodness sake just say something from that damned mouth of yours for once!”

You remained silent, listening to her harsh words as you walked out of the building. On the way out and the car ride back to the estate, you didn’t dare to open your mouth. This was a regular occurrence. Your stepmother hated your guts, for reasons you don’t know. Keeping quiet and never showing emotion was the only way to survive in the Gojo household. Never talking back was the one way to be left alone. Never showing emotion was to never give them the satisfaction of truly winning.

-

As soon as you arrived back at the estate, you were escorted by your kind and loving maid, Marie.

“Young Miss! What on earth happened to your face?!” exclaimed Marie as soon as she saw your swollen cheek. “My stepmother.” You deadpanned before climbing up the stairs.

“I’ll run a bath for you while I fetch an ice pack,” she stated before escorting you to your room.

The sound of running water soon filled the room as steam surrounded you and left a fog in its path. You slipped into the balmy water, letting the warmth of the bath take over you. The warmth seeps into your bones as you submerged yourself in the water. The world turns black and it’s silent; you're at peace. The silence turns into ringing and the black fades into nothing. Your escape from the real world has always been by distracting yourself with trivial things.

Marie bursts into the room, quickly pulling you out of the water and placing the ice pack on your inflamed cheek. She scolded you for putting your head underwater, but all you did was nod in agreement.

After washing up, you change into your nightgown and sat outside on the balcony of your room. You get up and look for a cigarette before lighting it up in between your fingers. You place it between your lips, letting the nicotine rush to your head. A fuzzy warmth clouds your senses as you finish one after another.

You stop the nth cigarette, before flicking it out on the ground. You stare up at the night sky, remembering the brief conversation you held with Megumi. A slight smile is found on your face as you remember the exchange between the two of you. It wasn’t unpleasant, in fact, it was quite the opposite.

-

At the same time, a certain dark-haired male remembered you. He stared up at the blank ceiling of his bedroom, recalling your interaction with him. He wonders if he’ll ever meet you again, knowing that the chances are slim.

-

It would take something only short of fate for the two of you to encounter each other once more, but it seems like fate has something cruel twisted up in it’s pocket this time.