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#In The Eye of the Beholder...or Whatever (My Art)
finemeal · 3 months
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Title: Outside the Manor
This is my DPxDC Steven Universe style piece I did for a game in the @haunting-heroes-creative-games server! Hosted by @noir-renard, we played Guess the Artist: Through the Screen. I had so much fun drawing the manor (and the low quality Danny lol), and it took me a total of 7 hours and 3 minutes.
So this is in the Steven Universe style but I don't think this is in the Steven Universe world if that makes sense. I do think that art/fics in that universe would be cool, but that for sure wasn't what I was going for here.
A lot of people interpreted this as Danny being sad, hesitant to go inside. And honestly? I love that interpretation! I had no thoughts about it other than, "Okay Wayne Manor and ... let's have Danny floating outside of it!" So any interpretation of this art piece is valid and a great one because I just wanted to draw an architectural piece and have a lil Danny there as a treat to myself.
I looked at a lot of Steven Universe background's and some low quality Steven's for reference on the trees, building, and color choices. I don't remember which version of the Manor I looked at specifically, but I do remember that I looked up "Wayne Manor" for the architectural decisions.
(If you're in the server, I'll be sending all of my in-process sketches and such so if you're interested in that well ... you could always join us in HH <3<3<3)
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demento-mori · 5 months
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when youre being mean to me this is who youre being mean to btw
*(he/she/they)
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bonkersdbobcat · 1 year
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~~whatever you’re doing, he’s not impressed~~
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darknight3904 · 6 months
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You're a Liar
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅɪꜱᴄᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴏɴꜱ ɪɴ ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ' ᴄʟᴏꜱᴇᴛ.
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ / ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ / ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴄᴏʀɪᴏʟᴀɴᴜꜱ ꜱɴᴏᴡ (ʜᴇ ɪꜱ ʙᴀᴅ ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ)
ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏɴɢ. ɪ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴍʏ ᴄᴏʟʟᴇɢᴇ ꜰɪɴᴀʟꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴀʟʟ ᴏꜰ ɢᴏᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴛᴅ ꜱᴏ ɪ'ᴠᴇ ʙᴇᴇɴ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ᴅᴀᴇᴍᴏɴ/ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ ᴛᴀʀɢᴀʀʏᴇɴ ʙʀᴀɪɴ ʀᴏᴛ.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The way the sun just barely peaked through the curtains and shimmered its way across the bedspread made your shared room with Coriolanus look simply divine.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The delicious scent of bacon and freshly cooked pancakes wafted through the mansion and under your closed door. The promise of fresh orange juice and perfectly hot coffee was enough to rouse anyone from their slumber.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. Coriolanus is still asleep beside you. Curly hair is splayed on the pillow, free from whatever styling gel he put in it. His face is relaxed and peaceful as you run your fingertips across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. The stress of being president is gone from his face when he sleeps and that's how you know, mornings are your favorite time of day.
"I can feel you staring at me."
His voice was still muddled with sleep, deep and scratchy as he batted at your hands trying to keep them off his gorgeous face.
"I'm appreciating the art in front of me," You smile as he finally opens his eyes.
"Your hands on my face are making my nose itch." He says grabbing your right hand and gently squeezing it as he sits up beside you.
You hum a tune of acknowledgment and take in his appearance. Coriolanus' pale skin was a wonderful sight to behold as the blanket slipped and fell into his lap.
"You're staring again." He says playing with your fingers
"An incredibly attractive man seems to be missing his shirt, can you blame me for staring?" You state a playful smile pulling on your lips.
Coriolanus lets out a snort and gets out of bed with a grunt. Long red scratches adorn his back as you watch your fiancee walk across the room towards the bathroom, ready to scrub last night's activities off himself.
Yes, mornings were your favorite time of day. You had warm sunshine, delicious food, and Coriolanus by your side.
But, most of all, mornings were your favorite because you weren't alone.
Coriolanus never truly wanted to leave the bedroom he shared with you. Even now as you groaned and begged him to just lounge around the mansion with you, he wished he could go back to when he felt your soft fingertips brushing the bridge of his nose. He had woken up beside you, cleaned himself, and eaten a wonderful breakfast, now the next step was simple. The next step was attending to his duties as the President of Panem and leaving you to your day in the south wing of the mansion. Despite the tempting idea of staying with you, he knew you'd be eagerly awaiting him, tonight at the dinner table, ready to listen about his day. It was the perfect daily routine and Coriolanus never wanted it to change.
He could feel the press of your lips on his lingering hours later as the newest Head Gamemaker listed detailed plans for the games that were two months away. Dr. Gaul's death had been a blow to the way the Hunger Games functioned as a whole. Now, Coriolanus wasn't sure if the new man chosen for the job was truly the correct choice, he didn't have any of the ruthlessness Gaul had. Sure, he could've stepped in but how would he run the country and dream up deadly traps and mutts for tributes. Sure, he probably could've but that meant so many hours of overtime and leaving you to sleep alone in those overly soft sheets you had hand-picked for your shared bed. This new game maker would just have to do, he didn't want to imagine your sad little face if he didn't sit down for dinner with you each night.
The hours after Coriolanus left you at the breakfast table were terribly boring. There wasn't anything for you to do anymore.Sure, you could've gone shopping or gone to a local park but you hated doing all those things alone. Coriolanus had convinced you that running your Father's weapons company would be overwhelming for you and managed it in your name. As far as you knew it was doing well and was providing many jobs for people in the districts. Everything else in the mansion was tended to by an army of maids and butlers, who were ready at the snap of a finger. So, here you sat in your sunroom that Coriolanus had built as a special place just for you.
You had taken up painting nearly a year ago but your long days of solitude had caused you to quickly run out of inspiration. Now, the paints and easel sat, awaiting your touch but your creativity was gone. You missed Coriolanus and he wouldn't return for another hour. Surely dinner was nearly ready and you wished you were sitting with him, listening to whatever he had spent his day doing. Perhaps you should start a new book before he returns. That'd give you something to tell him about when he did come back.
Maybe the extensive in-home library here would have a book about a lonely woman, wishing for her lover. Maybe there'd be a book all about her and how she spent her days without him and how to pass the time. Maybe, there'd be a book all about her mornings with him and how she never wished for them to come to an end.
It was during these long days that you felt like the loneliest woman in all of Panem. Moments like this made it feel like you were a delicate china doll, only removed from her case to be admired for a few spare moments before being placed back on her shelf.
Two Years Later
Watching. It was something you had gotten good at over the past few months, especially since Coriolanus stopped allowing you to leave the grounds of the mansion. You watched as the boy you grew up with and danced at countless galas faded from view. You tried to welcome the man who sat across from you eating his dinner but it was had more and more difficult as the weeks bled into months and months turned to years. Coriolanus even seldom kissed you now. It hurt even though you knew it was for your own safety. He had admitted it one night in the darkness of your room as he lay beside you. Poison had created sensitive sores in his mouth. You wished he'd stop using it, surely there had to be other ways to do away with enemies.
You felt as though you were withering away, your days were so tedious and you often found yourself eagerly waiting at the dinner table for Coriolanus. Your long days were spent in isolation and you rarely spoke to the staff of the mansion. That didn't stop you from racing to the dining room when the sounds of Coriolanus' return sounded through the halls. Some days it felt like you were a child waiting to tell their parent about their day.
Tonight, it was like your words were falling on deaf ears as Coriolanus was paging through a book while nibbling at the food that had been placed in front of the two of you. Your engagement ring was a dazzling silver as you played with your fingers, wishing he'd look up from whatever knowledge that book might've held.
"Coryo..." You began
"Yes?"
His tone wasn't what you had hoped for. He was annoyed that you were interrupting whatever was on the page in front of him so you didn't elaborate on what you had wanted to say.
Watching. It was something you had gotten good at since there wasn't anything else for you to do.
It was raining the day you found them. You had spent most of the day lounging around and working with the wedding planner Coriolanus had hired so you wouldn't have to do all of the work yourself.
It was nestled in an old shoe box, covered in dust, perfectly hidden behind Coriolanus' clothes on his side of the closet. At first, you had thought it might have been more of Sejanus' things that Coriolanus never gave back to Strabo. Instead what you were met with was worse than a dead boy's things. There, wrapped up in a silky orange scarf sat a single golden earring and an envelope. You swore you could smell lingering perfume on the scarf as you opened the envelope.
It felt like your hands were burning when you finally looked at them. Surely they weren't real. Right?
Two pictures sat in your hands. One of Lucy Gray Baird on some unknown stage, a black guitar in hand. Her pretty dark curls were pulled back and behind her a small group of blurry faces were muddled together, unrecognizable due to the poor lighting. You felt a lump of anxiety and anger swell in your throat when you moved on to the next picture. It was taken as if the subjects of the photo had no knowledge of the camera. Lucy Gray sits on a dilapidated-looking couch with your Coriolanus beside her. Her face was partially obscured as she pressed her lips to his cheek and Coriolanus was smiling, his one arm wrapped securely around her waist.
How long had it been since he smiled like that at you? Perhaps it was even before the reaping that had brought her to the Capitol. When was the last time you saw a truly genuine smile from the boy you grew up with? You wondered how you had missed the way his boyish smiles had transformed into those cruel smirks he donned when things went his way.
Jealousy and sadness burned in your stomach as your mind raced. How long had it been since these photos were taken? It had been nearly 7 years since her games. Coriolanus' head was clearly buzzed in the photo with Lucy which meant it was after he was forced by Highbottom to leave the Capitol. How many times after his return to you had he assured you that nothing had happened between them? How many times had you believed him and his sweet words and actions? How many times had he lied and betrayed you all for another girl who mysteriously disappeared?
Betrayal is what you felt as you pocketed the pictures and slid the box back into its spot behind his fancy coats. Tears were pricking at your eyes as you dressed for dinner, Coriolanus would be back soon and you would confront him about the pictures once he was seated across from you at that dinner table you had sat at hundreds of times.
Dinner is silent as you pick at the cut of steak that was placed on your plate. Coriolanus is talking about how he's on the hunt for another head game maker and how annoying it is but you just can't help but not care. The table that separates you from him makes it feel like a huge ravine has grown between the two of you as you tune him out.
15 years is how long you've known Coriolanus Snow. In those 15 years, you had never dreamed of doing what you were about to do as you removed the pictures from where they sat hidden under your pretty skirt, a floral pattern Coriolanus had picked for your 27th birthday a few months ago. Your heart ached as you slid them across the table to him.
"I found these today. In our closet. Wrapped in your mother's scarf with a gold earring."
You finally have all of Coriolanus' attention as he swallows his food and stops his complaining.
"I thought you said it wasn't romantic. You promised me it wasn't."
Coriolanus glances down at the pictures and reaches out to brush his finger across the one with him and Lucy Gray on that couch.
"You promised, Coryo."
Your voice was breaking. Damn it, don't cry!
"I know I did."
He finally speaks. You wondered what was going through that ridiculously complex mind as he fumbled for his words.
"Then why did you lie? I would've listened if you had just told the truth to begin with." You honestly say.
It's true, you would've heard him out. Maybe you wouldn't have taken him back but you would have at least listened.
"I wasn't thinking straight, okay," He says " I should've told you. I should've gotten rid of that stuff years ago. I don't know why I didn't."
"Yes, you do." You sigh "You love her Coryo. Even now, you're looking for Lucy Gray. That's why you keep me here, you're scared I'll run off like her."
"No, no that's not it. I just...want you to myself." He reasoned
"If that were true you'd let me leave."
"Why do you need to? Everything anyone could ever wish for is right here in this home." He points out, you don't miss the way his fist is clenching, his nails digging into his skin.
"I haven't left the mansion in two years!" You cry, blinking back tears "I feel like some prize you've won and caged up! You don't even let me attend galas anymore."
"You hated those galas. All the nosey reporters and their questions were something you hated. Do you want me to apologize for doing you a favor? I won't. I've done nothing but make your life easier." Coriolanus says
"Yes, you have made my life easier, you've eliminated all challenges I might come across by keeping me here, like a doll." You agree, tone dripping with sarcasm
"Look, if you want you can go to the next gala with me. It's in a week I'll get a designer here tomorrow morning to make you a nice dress." Coriolanus sighed, clearly tired "I don't want to argue with you about petty things"
"Good, then we can argue about these photos." You say, ready to finally hear what he had to say.
"I don't love her. Maybe I did at some point but none of that matters now, I came back to you didn't I?"
Maybe I did at some point.
Hot tears fell from your eyes as you looked down at your feet. How could you be so stupid? Why didn't you see it sooner?
The sound of Coriolanus getting up and walking towards you had you wiping at your face and unattractively sniffing as you tried to fix your runny nose. You didn't want him taking your tears as a sign of weakness. He couched down beside you and pulled your chair out so you were facing him.
"Stop crying." He commands placing his hands on your thighs.
Another fresh set of tears falls from your eyes and Coriolanus brushes them away.
"You're a liar." You say, your voice barely a whisper
"I'm not...I want to be here, with you. I'll let you go back out on your little shopping trips and attend galas, shitty reporters and all."
It's tempting, to agree and let everything perfectly mend itself. But as you glance at the pictures that fell off the table and Lucy Gray's face stares back at you, you feel your heart sink to your feet again.
"You're a liar." You say, this time your voice comes out strong as you push his warm hands from your face
Coriolanus gives you a hard stare but lets you pull away from him.
"You can't even apologize for seeing her." You point out
Coriolanus looks guilty as he disgests your words.
"What happened between the two of you?" You asked
"She ran off, I think. I also had some personal issues after Sejanus was killed. She offered for me to go with her, I almost did." He says
You let out a soft hum of acknowledgment as Coriolanus remains in front of you, on his knees, fiddling with the end of your skirt.
"I don't think I ever really loved her. I think it might've just been the idea of possessing her that I liked." He admits, eyes on the floor
"And how is that different than us now?" You ask
Coriolanus' eyes snap up to yours when the question leaves your lips.
"It's different because...we're us...We grew up together, darling. You ate Tigris' cabbage soup and gave me lunch when I didn't have money for my own."
You swallow the lump in your throat and stand up. Coriolanus immediately rises, not interested in being so much shorter than you. You know what has to come next but you're not sure if you're strong enough to do it. Your actions will close the chapter of a book 15 years in the making.
"Coryo...I think I want to go home." You say looking up at him, fresh tears pool in your eyes.
"You are home. You're with me." He says reaching out and taking your hand in his
"No, I mean...to my family's home. I want my mom, I miss her." You admit, pulling your hand out of his.
Coriolanus' face is confused as you look down at the gorgeous ring he gave you at his proposal. It looked so perfect on your hand when you woke up just this morning but now it felt like a death sentence as you sighed.
"I think you should have this back too..." You say as you slip it off and hold it out to him, "I'm sorry about things ending like this, but if you can't even apologize, I don't think I can stay."
Coriolanus' confusion quickly morphs into anger as he looks at the ring in your hand.
"Put it back on. I'm not letting you walk away." He says, upset
"Coryo, don't make this difficult." You say taking the ring and placing it into the pocket that sits just above his heart in his button-up shirt.
You begin to walk towards the looming archway that marks the entrance to the dining room but you're blocked by an angry Coriolanus Snow, tears in his eyes, fists clenched, and his mouth set in a cold line.
"You're not leaving. I won't let you."
Part Four
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mrs-weasley-reid · 2 months
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Sweet Addiction
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Spencer Reid x bau!reader
Summary: Spencer always felt afraid you'd be too sweet for him. Turns out, you were just the right spice he needed.
Warning: Fluff with a pinch of spice.
A/N: an alternate narrative draft of my other published draft, Regrets Sting... enjoy✨
— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿
Spencer found you saccharine.
As a colleague, a friend, and... an enchanting woman.
He spent most of his days hypervigilant, careful not to fall for your tempting, bright smiles and witty jokes.
He watched you smile warmly to each and every family of the victims you'd ever encounter. Spencer would never stop bragging about his high intelligence, but somehow, he couldn't figure you out. You were a beguiling force to behold, an enigma of kindness and walking epitome of apricity.
Spencer loves everything about you. He loves you. He was obsessed with you. Craved your presence. Greedy for your attention.
He was afraid that whatever feelings brewed in his chest were going to ravage you. Afraid that he'd ruin a beautiful art due to his impulsivity.
So he chose friendship. He had to, or else...
He became your motivator. Your stimulus. Your best friend.
He was there for you. He was there when a case became too heavy. He lent you his day off. He became your personal therapist, listening to all your vents in the hopes that it would stop the nightmares just for one night. He kept you company, reading a book to you until you drifted off to sleep but left as soon as he tucked you in.
And without you, or him, knowing, he fell for your addicting sweetness all over again. Spencer Reid was in love with you.
He felt guilty. Falling for you right after being in love with someone else because he wanted to avoid falling for you. Even Spencer couldn't make sense of himself. It was a mind-boggling conflict.
And yet, Spencer held himself back for as long as he could. He made himself believe that all he wanted was your friendship. Shoving his feelings into a box as if it were a dirty sin, he tried to keep a secret.
The deeper he fell for you, the more obvious it became to the team.
JJ figured it out first when Spencer put in too much effort to make you smile after a case that hit too close to home. You have been bland with everyone but not with Spencer. He managed to get you to laugh just by saying a couple of nerdy jokes. She knew, then, that you'd be the perfect match.
Emily and Derek noticed Spencer's smittenness at the same time. You were all on a case, and the unsub's victims disturbingly fit you. Spencer was protective of you and knew exactly how it'd make you feel. So he always kept you in his line of sight and insisted on working with you before Hotch had the chance to object. Of course, along with that was Penelope squealing about her suspicions that Spencer had a huge crush on you.
Rossi had a hunch. He saw Spencer's eyes light up every time you walked into any room, staring at you for as long as he could. One time, he saw Spencer organize your case file in the way you preferred: written detailed descriptions instead of photos. And he suspected that Spencer had done so since your first day with the team.
Hotch? He always knew but kept his mouth shut. Spencer went to him for any type of indirect romantic advice. Spencer was experiencing childish love, so who was Hotch to ruin it for the boy genius?
And so it goes...
JJ would ritually give Spencer new, interesting facts about you. Emily would become suggestive whenever you made Spencer his daily cup of sugar with drops of coffee. Derek would flirt with you whenever he caught Spencer staring at you, then report to Penelope about the progress in their project: get Spencer to confess. Rossi, at times, pulled Spencer back from his trance whenever he started to malfunction because of something you did that made his stomach flip. And Hotch was Spencer's go-to companion. Vaguely describing his feelings for you in hopes that the unit chief had some sort of advise in return.
So he could only imagine the heartbreak when you arrived one morning with an unfamiliar scent of shampoo and a giddy smile as you walked in with the precinct's detective.
He immediately expressed his disapproval. Of course, you were confused about it. What was worse was you didn't know why. And worse than that was Spencer couldn't tell you why.
Or so he thought.
"I don't understand why you're making a big deal out of this," You walked into an interrogation room.
"Just because Det. Lohan is an old friend of yours does not mean he can be trusted. You haven't seen the guy in years. I think it's safe to say that sleeping with him was not a smart choice." Spencer wanted to smack himself for his poor choice of words, but he'd rather you lecture him than spend more time with the detective that still lingered on your hair.
You laughed, not taking his words personally. "Spence, I'm a woman with two guns dangling on each side of her hips. I can take care of myself." You took his worry into account and yet made your decision clear.
Out of nowhere, Spencer pushed you by your hips against the door. You gasped out of shock, a dangerous sound that rang in his ears.
"Still think you'd be safe?" Spencer could barely look at you. He didn't know what he would do if he did.
"You're making him sound more dangerous than he is. This is clearly not about keeping me safe. What's going on? You know you can always talk to me." Your voice was like honey. It was sweet and kind. You had no doubt, no suspicion. You trusted him too much. You were too sweet on him.
Spencer released a sharp sigh. He really had no other choice, did he? "I'm in love with you," He muttered under his breath but loud enough to tickle your ear.
Your expression changed. You took time to read whatever his eyes could say, but you came up with nothing, "Spence... you already rejected me. You said we're better off friends. You said you weren't attracted to me." You kept your tone unfairly soft, filling him with guilt.
"I lied, okay?!" Spencer was losing his cool. How much you affected his mood was beyond torture.
"Well, that's not fair... I was in love with you. Told you how I felt." Your face was sullen. "And what? I'm supposed to just take you in my arms because now you want me?" You gently pushed him, looking down on your feet. "I'd like to be alone, please." You were firm with your words, hurt lingering under your breath.
"Was?" Spencer queried.
You looked back up, "What?"
He stepped closer, "You said, 'I was in love with you.' You're not anymore?" Spencer's eyes bore into your very soul. It felt like he was interrogating you with a different charge of crime than a few seconds ago.
"That's not the point," You barely managed to sound in control. His entire demeanor changed, focusing on one phrase.
"You don't love me anymore?" Spencer moved closer, leaving nothing but his breath between the two of you. He quickly glanced at your lips, then stared at you once more, making sure you saw what he just did.
You subtly gulped, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat. "What are you—"
"Say you still love me, and I'll kiss you," It was as if every restraint Spencer had finally snapped the longer he was alone with you. He has been restricting himself from every inch of you, after all, despite you being unaware of it.
You shook your head, lifting your chin up, "I'm really not in the mood to play games with you, Spence. Why can't you just leave the entire thing alone?" You hoped he couldn't hear how loud your heart was beating right in your ear.
Spencer's eyes soften. He drooled at the sight of your lips, leaning his forehead on yours. Spencer closed his eyes in desperation, "Please say you love me so I can kiss you..." He begged in a small whisper.
A lot of possibilities and doubts flooded your senses, but only one thing rang in your head.
"I—" You didn't get the chance to say it. Spencer's lips were already attached to yours.
Your mind went blank, and your knees turned weak. If he hadn't wrapped an arm around your waist, you would've long fallen on the floor and ruined the euphoric moment you were in.
His kiss wasn't anything like you'd imagine. Nowhere near the gentleness you've known him to be. His kisses were desperate and eager.
Spencer pressed your back against the two-way mirror, harsher than when he'd pushed you against the door. The loud thud echoed in the entire room. His kisses became hotter and hungrier by the second.
And just as his lips were about to trail down to your jaw...
"Uhm—"
You froze at the sound of the speaker sending feedback, lightly tapping Spencer to abruptly stop.
"Sorry... But, uh, the interrogation room's actually not empty. At least not on our side." JJ spoke from the speaker.
You bit your lower lip as you tightly closed your eyes, "I know I'm going to regret this, but who's with you?" Your voice cracked from utter embarrassment.
The speaker spilled a chuckle all over the room, "You got room for another, sweetheart?" Derek could barely hold his laugh as he spoke.
"Count me in, too," Emily chimed in, creating another horrible feedback.
Spencer squinted at the mirror as if he'd be able to see them the more he stared at his reflection. You were glad your back was against, or else they would've seen how red your face became.
"Uh... Can you leave? Please?" You looked up at the ceiling. You couldn't even look at Spencer's face from the embarrassment you were feeling.
"Just don't make a mess. We still need to use the room for the unsub later." Derek teased.
"No promises," Spencer grinned at you, making your face heat up more than it already was.
Emily's amused laughter echoed, "Getting a little too pride of yourself there, Reid." Her voice went one-eighth octave lower. "I won't hesitate to beat you up if you do some dumb shit."
You waited for at least a minute to make sure that they did leave before you collapsed on the floor with your hands covering your face.
Spencer squatted in front of you and took your hands, intertwining your fingers. "Regret falling in love with me yet?" A playful smirk danced over his lips.
"Right now? I do. I really, really do." But you were too sweet for him. So you rolled your eyes, groaning in indecisiveness, "I really don't."
"Yeah," Spencer couldn't help but smile, "You really don't." He grabbed your face by the cheek and stole another kiss.
Spencer couldn't help it. You were his sweet addiction. And he'd keep it that way as long as you let him.
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sugusoneandonly · 2 months
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Quixotic - STSG - ch 1
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satosugu x fem!reader . ft. model!gojo & designer!geto
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!! do not repost/copy on any other platform !! if u do at least lmk where and give creds 😒 !! pls don’t tho <3
cw: power dynamics/imbalance?? ,, established!stsg (no cheating) ,, webtoon inspired & lwk self-indulgent 😞 ,, y/n may be unlikable idk ntm on her guys 🥰
exes to lovers (gojo) ,, one-sides enemies to lovers w geto ,, very feminine + slight meek reader??
a/n!! :: hi this is my first fic ,, have mercy <33
some prior info for now i will add more later (and clean it up)
- not much of an age gap, suguru is js very successful at a young age.
- takes place 2 years after their breakup (mc | satoru)
- y/n is currently a fashion major in her final year of college and fortunately lives near her college and the shadowing program.
- the general plot is y/n is shadowing (following around, studying, etc. not rlly working for him
- NOTTT really real life accurate 🥰
Had you known that coming across your biggest idol would come along with meeting your oh so beloved ex, you would’ve thrown away whatever dreams had clouded your ambitious mind. Yet lo and behold, in front of you stood one of the most renowned fashion designers in the industry with your ex-boyfriend hanging off of him as a price tag (a very expensive tag for that matter).
Suguru Geto stood with pride as his spine and extravagance as his feet, hair that could’ve been painted with the midnight sky half up while the rest cascaded down his back. With an arm on his shoulder, and hair that would make the moon had Suguru’s been the sky, stood Satoru Gojo, your beloved ex. Both men dressed to the nines, outfits that were worth your monthly rent each.
You had cursed the creak of the door that had announced your entrance when you saw them. Gojo however, remained unaware of the stress that climbed your body. Instead, his lifted his eyes to meet yours, blinking back yet letting a small grin tickle his face. “Y/N!” his voice had drawn Suguru’s eyes to follow his line of sight like a siren.
Now, you and Gojo hadn’t had a horrendous break-up (although it’s after affects on you weren’t quite so), in fact it was rather peaceful (while it lasted). Gojo had called your 2 years of love off when he decided that he wanted to pursue a bigger, grander, future, one that apparently hadn’t included you. While he had wanted to go out, meet new people, flitter about the industry, the strain of a relationship had left awkward stains on his work. Especially certain modeling gigs that made him some extra cash.
It was your final year out of college and as one of the top students in your major, you had been provided a shadowing opportunity with various fashion designers to mentor the new rising generation of fashion. However, the pairings were randomized and the last person you’d expect to be yours was one of the greatest and youngest designers, who was also rumored to be your exes lover. How romantic. You had come across Geto’s work originally in a magazine for your project, and had looked him up online. While doing your extended research, you had seen the bright face of Gojo on several of his posts wearing his designs. Immediately you fell in love with his success, ethic, and designs. Dresses so intricate and suits embellished, as if they had walked straight of the manhwas you read.
Geto’s brow had raised at the mention of your name, no doubt familiar with it and the story that may have came with it. His eyes pierced through you, a small hum and what appeared to be a shadow of discontent danced over his face before it went away. He had leaned closer into Gojo after a thorough inspection of you. the rumors hold true then
“Hi.” slipped through your lips at last, however, meek. You feel 12 again showcasing your painting to the old judges in an art contest. Not an ounce of professionalism. Perhaps it wasn’t to late to run out yet.
“Y/N? I heard lots about you” Suguru’s voice came out like silk drowned in a snakes hiss, anxiety bubbled in your blood. “Good things I hope..I look forward to working with you..?” His lack of facial response had you lost in which direction to move this conversation. Instead of a response he simply hummed at looked back at the paper in his hands. Gojo, just as awkward standing beside him.
I wanna go home
©sugusoneandonly 2024
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jujutsukgojo · 6 months
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The boy in art
gangster!Sukuna x reader
Chapter Two
Summary:
Minutes later you hear screams and more gunshots. None inside though. You peek around to see a group of men shoot others. Quickly, you turn around, so you don’t see anything. You don’t want to.
Tears stream down your face. This isn’t you! You aren't cut out for this. You did not sign up for all of this!
"You know you're my girl, right?"
a/n: Not the best but oh well. i was supposed to write something for Gojo because of his birthday yet here i am with sukuna i dont own jjk tw: implied violence, vandalism, implied drug deals, etc. fast paced! ooc sukuna (oh well :)) fast paced! characters: Reader, Sukuna, OC, Nobara, mentioned Megumi and yuuji, and a little mahito (sorry)
 
 
 As you are walking to your classroom, you hear swearing. The hallway is empty and brightly lit. You are the only one here now since you decided to arrive early for class. Entering the classroom, you sit your bag down. Much to your annoyance, the noises don’t stop. Curious, you get up to go to the source. 
  In the middle of the hallway is a window. You open it to see two men talking. Everything is normal until you see what is in their hands. You gasp, causing the two men to look at you. “What are you two doing?” 
“Mind your own business.” The one with pink hair and tattoos says.  “You can’t do that here!” 
“Get inside, little girl.” The other rolls his eyes at you and leaves. “There, you happy? It’s all over now.” 
 “Whatever you do in your free time is up to you. But you cannot do this here.” 
“You own this place?” He gestures the area.
“No, I take classes here.” He pops out a cigarette and lights it. You noticed that his ears move a little when he does that. “Then why are you so pressed about it?” 
“This is my school!” He looks around at the building. “That’s your name?” 
“Why would my name be “Community College”, dumbass?” The pink haired man shrugs. “The hell I know. What is it anyway?” 
“This is a community school that offers art co-” 
“Now look who’s the dumbass, you’re just as stupid as I am. I mean your name.” He interrupts you. You bite your lip and tap your fingers.
“(Y/n). What's it to you?” You place your hands on the windowsill. He laughs and walks away. “Nothing at all. See you later.” You slam the window shut.  
It isn’t your business, yeah, but it is around you. They can say whatever about you who cares. However, you don’t want that type of shit anywhere near you. With a goal in mind, you cannot afford to be bothered with that.  
  Over-achiever, prude, rude, and whatever else they say. Let them talk. It will be you who has a good, decent, life that is secure and stable. 
“He was cute though.” You won’t ever see him again. There is nothing to hold onto. 
---
Your professor points to the stack of papers on his desk. “For those who would like to, the papers are right here to fill out. Turn them in accordingly and on time.” 
This is what you have been waiting for. Your heart is racing. Finally, you got an opportunity for an internship at the art museum. With your good grades you should be a shoo in for the position. After class, you get up and grab a paper to fill it out. Since you have some time on your hands, you fill it out right then. It is not every day that the museum allows interns.  
With the final signature of your name, you turn in the paper. Leaving the room, you exit the school with a pep in your step. Lo’ and behold, there is the pink haired guy at the corner of the street. You roll your eyes and walk past him, mentally kicking yourself for forgetting your headphones.  
“So that’s how it is?”  
You shouldn’t acknowledge him. “What do you want?” 
He hisses as if you hurt him. “You’re not going to say hello?” 
Rolling your eyes, you ask, “Why the hell would I do that for?” 
He chuckles and leans back further onto the wall. “No reason at all.” 
 Scoffing, you walk away. “Sukuna!” He yells. You turn around and ask what he meant. “That’s my name, Sukuna.” 
“I didn’t ask you.” 
“Alright then, brat.”   
You smack your lips and leave. He's bad news. As pretty as he is, he’s no good. You have all this going for you, you can’t afford to be around him. With the possible internship, your part time job, to school, you can’t be associated with him.   
  You take out the store’s keys to open the door. A little bell goes off when you do. You set your things down on the counter and open the blinds. Nobara had been here earlier, so there was not much else to do. And by the looks of things, business was slow.  
  Even though it is a small shop, you don’t want it to close. You don't really see bookstores like this anymore. Unfortunately, closure may be soon since you, Nobara, and the owner are the only workers.  
  After settling down, you flip the sign to ‘open’. Nobara didn’t finish putting the newly donated books away. Sighing, you check the books and push the small cart to the aisle so you can put them away.  
You hum a light tune until the bell dings. “Welcome!”  
Pushing the cart to the front, you greet the person with a smile. They tell you what they’re looking for in exchange for the bag full of classic books they give you. As mandatory, you study the books for any rips, stains, writings, drawings, and other signs of wear that would make the book ineligible to be donated.  
  Only three of them passed.  
  “Alright, you have a credit of five. You can use it now or later.” They frown. “I just gave you a shit ton of books?” 
“Yeah, but other than these three, the rest are too messed up for us to take.” Please, don’t argue. 
And of course, your prayers go unanswered as they begin to raise their voice at you. “Stop yelling. Please understand that these books here,” You push them towards the owner. “Are in terrible condition. I cannot take them.” 
  They really are. A giant coffee stain in one, a ripped page in another, and one of the covers are barely together. The three that passed inspection barely made the cut. They will have to be half price. 
“I’ll take my business elsewhere then.” Tired of them, you push the three towards them as well. “Here. Please go.” 
 They huff and shove all their books into the plastic bag. Grouching and complaining, they slam the door open and leave.  
It isn’t every day that this happens but lately it is becoming common. Ever since summer vacation is over, there have been a few students here and there looking for books. Mainly, textbooks. Unfortunately, not many people donate them. Even if they did, many schools tend to switch books frequently, which makes textbooks age like milk and practically useless.  
  Still, donations would be nice to those who still need those editions.  
  Rubbing your hands together, you put on a pot of coffee. If you are going to have to deal with customers, you should at least have a pot or so.  
The bell dings again. Your day is ruined by that one worm, so you don’t smile. Dramatic? Yes. Do you care? No. 
  The customer walks to one of the aisles and begins to search. You'll be of assistance if they need help. The pot of coffee is not brewing fast enough. It is about halfway done by the time the customer comes to the front. You face the customer and don’t quite know what to expect when it is that one pink haired guy from before.  
  “You stalking me, sweets?”  
“No, I work here! You are stalking me.”  
“If you say so.” He places the book on the counter. Quickly, you check it out, not wanting to talk to him more than you have to. “Hey, why are you so rude?” 
“I’m not rude.” You say in a matter of fact-tone. “Yeah, you are. I’ve been nice to you all day and you’ve been so snooty.”  
“I am not snooty.”  You cross your arms and frown. It is the condescending feeling he’s giving, and the fact that he thinks he knows you so well.  
No one knows you better than you.  
“What do you call all that then?” 
“Goal oriented.” He hums and runs his tongue along his teeth. “What are your goals?” 
You begin to check out his books. “Art. You?” 
You don’t tell him the ultimate goal, of course. And like almost every person in your predicament, it’s stability, security. You're tired of the unknown and the possibility of losing everything. Tired of caring for everyone and everything else because of someone else’s irresponsibility. 
You want to live and do it for yourself. 
 “Normal stuff.”  
You look up at him with an eyebrow raised. “ It'll be ten fifty, please.” 
He hands it to you in cash. His book is placed in the store’s bag. Before he can leave, you shoot him a question. “You don’t read, do you?” 
“Not much.” He leaves you. 
----
After meeting him, you end up seeing a lot of Sukuna. He comes by the store every day to bother you, teases you, and walks you to school. Lately you’ve noticed the crime rate going up, but not a single crime is near you. For a bit, the owner was scared for the shop. Fortunately, nothing has happened. Nobara, of course, is suspicious but you can’t blame her.   
  Out and about with Sukuna, you reveal that you take care of your baby sister. Even though Sukuna has become a constant in your life, you are still leery about them meeting. “You understand, right?” 
He carries the items you intend to buy. “Yeah, I’d be freaked if you were too eager.” 
“It’s just the damn crime rate’s up and we just met-” 
“And here we are.” 
“Shut up. Anyway, I’m being cautious.” Sukuna chuckles. “I know. You don’t have to explain,” 
  You smile at him. Talking to him is so refreshing. There isn’t pressure and you don’t have to watch what you say. The two of you come together so naturally.  
   “What do you know about the crime rates anyway?” You pick up a candle and smell it first, then have him smell it. Sukuna hums and gives you a slight, ‘gimme’. You place a candle in his large hand.  
“I know that they’re becoming more frequent. Way more violent, too. Not much as robbing as it is assaults and murder and drugs.” 
“Murder?” 
  “Yep. Just the other day, a guy was in an ‘accident’ and what did they find? A message carved on his stomach or something. It's crazy!” It was on the news. The accident is believed to be staged, obviously. You found out about it at work. Nobara and you of course had your theories and assumptions on what the message could have been and who the culprit was.
   “Well, don’t worry about all of that, alright? You're fine.” You side eye him as you put your items on the belt to check out. Immediately, he cuts in front of you to pay. “You don’t have to...” 
“I’m doing it anyway.” 
    Most of it is for your sister anyway. A coloring book and crayons, some fruit snacks, a toy that she’s been wanting for months, and a cheap pair of sneakers. The candle was something on sale that you picked up on a whim. 
  “Sukuna, you don’t have to. I'm serious.” 
He carries the bags. “Always this stubborn? You can’t even accept help?” 
“I’m used to doing it all.” You awkwardly laugh as guilt settles in your gut. It makes you so uncomfortable knowing someone else bought your sister’s things. You have been taking care of her for so long, it’s weird. 
   He stares at her little shoes. “You need to relax, sweets.” After noticing that you are still uncomfortable, he adds, “I enjoy it. Let me take care of you.” 
Your head is down so he can’t see how wide your eyes have gotten. The last time someone took care of you, you were a child and your sibling wasn’t thought of. Now, Sukuna, someone you met not long ago, wants to?  
After all these years, you don’t know how to handle that. 
You find yourself at another store trying on the cheapest shoes there. Sukuna comes up to you with an adorable pair of kid shoes. “What size shoe do you think I wear?” 
“They’re not for you, dumbass. They’re for the kid.”  
“She already has a pair, remember?” 
He rolls his eyes. “And now she has two. And these are better.” You sigh, giving up on explaining that she’ll grow out of them in no time.  
  “Here, put these on.” You sigh as he gently places a heel on your foot. It's black and with the finest leather and comes to a delicate point. “What am I going to wear this for?” 
Sukuna buckles the straps on your ankle. “For me.” You scowl at his smirk and laughter at your expense. “Here, look,”  
He has you stand in front of a mirror. “See how good you look?” You hum in response. They're pretty and make you feel pretty. You find them to be a pair that’ll fit for different occasions. “What’s not to like, sweets?” 
  You suck in your lips. “You’re right, fine. I do look good in them.” You would have been able to keep that mindset had you not seen the price point. “They’re hideous, put them back.” 
  “They’re yours.” 
“I can’t afford them.” He has already done too much. Sukuna rolls his eyes at you. “I can.” 
All the pairs of shoes ring up to a ridiculous amount. You can’t even look at it or Sukuna. He grabs your chin. “Stop it.”  
No matter what, the feeling of guilt and unease is too strong to just ignore. 
The next time you see Sukuna, you are at a park during your lunch break. In your bag are art supplies that you thought of bringing in case you got bored. Now, it is just up to finding what to draw.  
“Sweets, what’re you doing out here?” You shrug your shoulders. He sighs and sits down next to you on the grass. “Why are you still mad?” 
“I’m not mad. I'm just not used to it. I'm always the one taking care of things and you pop up taking my responsibility away...I don’t like it.” 
He plucks the blades of grass. “I will only say this once. So, fucking listen," He takes a deep breath and mumbles, "I’m sorry. I wanted to do something for you. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” 
  “You didn’t hurt me, Sukuna. You couldn’t.” Sukuna looks at the birds in the sky flying freely. In the silence between you two, you take it. With each stroke Sukuna manifests on the paper. The essence of peace and security is slowly being captured on the canvas.  
“What’re you doing you little brat?” He takes a peek at it. It is a rough version of him. It captures the serenity and beauty of him, though. “Hm.” 
“Do you like it?” 
“Hm.” Is all he says with the slightest curve of his lips and tiniest hint of pink on his cheeks. Although this is also picturesque, you’ll keep this part of Sukuna for yourself. For your blessed eyes only. 
  Soon, the rough portrait is done. You are so focused on it, you don’t see the softness in his eyes, but you do feel the roughness of his calloused fingertips as they caress your face in adoration. 
------
“(Y/n), I'm just saying I saw him there. Not that he did anything!” Nobara exclaims after sipping her overly sweet coffee. 
“Well, it sounds like it.” The two of you have been going back and forth for about thirty minutes because Nobara saw Sukuna standing and acting suspiciously. And, well, doing what you thought he did when you first met him. 
Not that you’d admit it. 
“Damn it, Nobara. What were you doing there anyway?” You ask as you pour yourself a cup of strong coffee. You need something to distract you. Anything to deflect this.  
  “Don’t do that. I was passing by to go to the fucking station. He was out in the open.” After a moment or two of complete silence, she breathes. “I want you to be safe and know what you’re getting into.” 
  Immediately you scoff. 
  “You act like he’s some dangerous criminal ready to chop me up into little pieces. Would a criminal tuck my sister into bed? Or let me read to him? Keep my paintings and support me? Protect me? Or-” 
“Oh my God. I’m not saying he isn’t sweet to you. I am just telling you what I saw!” 
“Am I interrupting?” Both of you turn around to see a tall man stand there with his eyebrows raised. You suck in your lips and shake your head no. Nobara recovers quicker than you and smiles at the man.  
 “No, no, no! Just a tiff among friends. Y'know, friends who look out for each other and recognize danger.” 
Your eye twitches but you don’t retaliate. Not when there is a much needed customer.  
   “Have a look around! Let us know if you need anything.” You put on a smile for the man. He nods and looks around. There is something off about him. At first, you think the cold aura is in your head, but Nobara sticks close to you with the same thing in mind. 
He's dangerous. Something is wrong. 
What is he doing here? No way is he actually looking for a book. All he’s doing is looking at the walls and pretending to skim the novels. Nobara grabs your hand and squeezes. She's shaking and he hasn’t even done anything remotely threatening. 
Maybe it is the way he moves. Gracefully, like a ghost. Or the muscles that form his body that his shirt struggles to contain. It doesn’t look like he has a weapon on him. Perhaps it isn’t needed. 
  What is this heaviness around him? The chill you get when he turns the corner of every shelf. How he looks at you with a curious and studying gaze. Is this bloodlust? The hair on your arms is raised. Nobara, who isn’t afraid of anything or anyone, is scared. 
  “Is there anything in particular you’re looking for, sir?” You are pinching your thigh to keep a steady voice. “No.” 
  He grabs a random book that he didn’t even look at and places it on the counter. The nameless man says nothing when you ring it up. He pays with crinkled up cash and a wink in Nobara’s direction. 
   Once he leaves, she runs to the door and locks it. “Did you see what he did?!” 
“What?” 
She groans and explains that he checked out the store to rob it. “Why would he rob it? A bookstore of all places?” 
  “I don’t know...but tell me you weren’t scared!” You cannot deny it. There's something wrong. 
  Nobara goes out with Megumi and Yuuji to lunch immediately after. She makes you swear to lock the door and not let anyone in until she comes back. Lately, the usual busy time isn’t until another hour anyway, so it’s an easy promise. 
   You’re putting on another pot of coffee when the first shot happens. The bullet goes right through the pot that you’re holding and shatters the glass. A scream is caught in your throat. More bullets come through barely missing you. You duck and see the store’s merchandise suffer from the insanity.  
You grab your phone and in a state of panic, call Sukuna and tell him everything. He can hear the glass and the wicked noise.  
“Stay down, and crawl to the back hallway. I'll handle it.”  
It was the hallway the man didn’t see.  
  You do as he says and wonder if you should call the authorities. Maybe Sukuna will. You don’t know why you called him instead of the police. It was just a quick reaction. 
Minutes later you hear screams and more gunshots. None inside though. You peek around to see a group of men shoot others. Quickly, you turn around, so you don’t see anything. You don’t want to.  
Tears stream down your face. This isn’t you! You aren't cut out for this. You did not sign up for all of this. 
And yet, you don’t want to look outside and see what is happening. 
The police did come after Sukuna came in through the backdoor. He told you that the bad men were gone and for you to tell the cops that the shop was attacked and that you hid the entire time. You did as you were told. 
  Who they were, why they were there, what could have happened to them? You don’t know. You were hiding. 
  The shop keeper was furious but grateful for your safety. Nobara, too. But she knows better.  
-----
“What’d you doing now, brat?” Sukuna likes to bother you at work, home, and especially at the museum now that you got accepted as an intern. “Working!” 
  “That’s too heavy for you.” He grabs it. “Where do I put it?”  
“Here.” You gently guide him on where to put the sign. After, he decides to stick around and help you with the heavy things. Of course, you watch as his arms flex whenever he picks something up.  
   “Hey, Sukuna,” you start. The two of you are alone right now with nothing but the art witnessing the conversation.  
“What are we doing?” 
  He stops and furrows his brows. “What?” 
“Like, what are we?” Do you really want to know his answer? Then again, the rejection will make it easier to let go, you think. Or maybe you want him to release you? To push you away so you don’t have to think about that night anymore. 
  He comes up to you from behind. Sukuna's arms wrap around you and his chin rests on your shoulder. “I’d like for you to be mine.” 
  You scoff and try to step on his toes. Playfully, Sukuna bites your ear, causing you to shriek and laugh.  
“If you two are done now-” 
 You jump at the sound of your boss. “Sorry!” You grab your boyfriend’s hand and rush past her.  
Boyfriend...wow. 
-----
  
 You tuck your little sibling into the bed. After reading their favorite book in the character’s voices, she went fast asleep. Sukuna wished her a goodnight on the phone, too. The smile she had on her face was picture worthy. She seems to like him a lot. 
  Although, you couldn’t tell her the truth as to why he wasn’t there in person. So, telling her that he was just at work sufficed. 
   After putting away her new shoes and the dinner dishes, you rest on the couch. The museum has a big showing tomorrow. All the lifting and organizing took a lot out of you. However, you are excited more than anything. He doesn’t know it yet, but your drawing of him got a place in the local’s art section. 
   Right as you close your eyes, your phone rings. “Hello?” 
“Come to the museum, right now.” Your boss demands before she hangs up. Her tone gave you pause. Not because of how rude it was, but because of how stressed and worried. 
   Quickly, you put your sister’s shoes on and wrap her up in her blanket. Unfortunately, you don’t have anyone to watch her. Your mother is as useless as your father is.  
   “Where are we going?” She sleepily asks. “Sh, go back to sleep.” Immediately, she does.  
  Besides, you aren’t sure if you really want her to be awake during this. 
 
Your breath is taken away at the sight. Flashing colors of the police cars illuminated the night. Everything you worked at was completely destroyed. The museum walls, the art, and most specifically, Sukuna’s portrait, are ruined. 
   Your boss is tapping her foot as she is lost in thought. Suddenly, she notices you. “There you ar-” She stops when she sees the bundle you are carrying. 
“I didn’t have a babysitter.” 
She takes a deep breath. “Look around. Do you see all of this? The museum is totaled.” 
“I see that, ma’am.” She walks to you. “Your boyfriend’s picture in particular suffered.” She stops walking. “I need to know. Are you involved in this?” 
  “No! Not at all!”  
“I won’t press charges on you. But I do need honesty.” Your eyes are wide. “I am serious! I really don’t know!” 
You pray that she can hear the sincerity in your voice. 
 She sighs. “Ok, I believe you had nothing to do with it.” She looks down before she continues. “But I do not believe that you are ignorant as to why it happened. (Y/n), I’m going to have to terminate the internship.” 
Your breath is caught in your throat. “F-for what?! I didn’t do anything!” 
“You are a smart girl. You need to choose who you are around better.” She leaves you in the street, surrounded by darkness. 
Your arms begin to get tired from your sister’s weight.  
“Lord, I am so tired...” You whisper in the night. 
  After this, you didn’t get another internship. Not with Sukuna’s mark on you. 
-----
You go to the park a few days later so your sister can play with the other kids. She wanted to call Sukuna and ask him to come. He never showed up even though he said he would. 
By the time dusk broke, you packed everything and went home to think. 
  After the museum incident, you got blacklisted by other museums around the city. Even private artists avoid you. Your professor, naturally, heard of the incident and lectured you about safety and how you should not have taken the internship for granted.  
It spread like wildfire. Your boss at the bookshop had a talk with you as well. Wanting to know if Sukuna was connected with the vandalism at the shop. You told him you didn’t know and that it was possible. He decided to let you keep your job, but you are on leave. 
Nobara filled the room with ‘I-told-you-so's. Though she stopped when she saw your vacant expression. 
  Everything you worked for is crumbling around you. At least Sukuna is looking for the bastard who did it, right? 
Sukuna kisses your cheek when he walks in. It's late and your little sister is already in bed. “I’m here. Sorry I'm late.” He settles down next to you, grabbing your hand and kisses it.  
“Sukuna, we have to talk.”  
“Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again. There was just a little hitch.” You shake your head. “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear about it, either.” You reply quickly with a snappish tone. 
  He looks confused at first then his face settles in a raised eyebrow. “Look, Sukuna, I can’t continue to endanger my sister and I anymore.” 
  Sukuna sighs. “You won’t be. I took care of it.” 
“I’m blacklisted and almost got fired. My boss is watching me tread on thin ice. I can’t lose my job or anything else.” 
  He says nothing but stares at you. “I think we should break up.” 
Pain shoots through your heart as the words exit your trembling mouth. You really, really, like him. Maybe even love him. “No.” 
  “Sukuna-” 
“I said no.” 
“That’s not how it works. I can’t keep doing this. I'm losing everything because of you.” 
“Me? You think I did all of this?”  
“No! You are connected to it! Everything all leads back to you!” 
  He grabs your face gently but firmly. “I took care of it, (Y/n). You’re safe with me.” 
“But my future isn’t!” You stand up. “I have dreams, goals, all of it! My sister does too!” 
“I’ll give you it all, for fuck’s sake!” He stands up too. 
“No, Sukuna. I'm not cut out for this life. Everything you do...it isn’t me.” 
“Thank God you’re not doing it then, huh?” You want to touch his face. To comfort him and take back everything you said. At the same time, you want to shake him into understanding.  “Sukuna, it’s over.” 
  He looks shocked. Like it is finally settling in that it is over, done. The lovely chapter is finished, and the page flipped.  
“I love you, (Y/n).” The air is sucked out of the room. Neither of you have said it before. You always thought you’d be the first one to admit it. “I love you too. God knows I do. But I am so tired.” 
  You worked so hard for it all to crash down so suddenly. Those nights of the attacks were a special breed of terrifying. You could have died that day in the bookshop. The internship is gone, your work unsalvageable. The bookshop put you on unpaid leave. 
   He walks over to you and presses his lips to yours. Despite what has just been said, you fall into it with passion. He presses his forehead to yours.  
   “You know you’re my girl, right?” You don’t say anything. “Give the kid a hug for me, will ya?” 
  He leaves. 
You cry. 
____
Two years later 
As it turns out, your gut feeling was right. The shop owner fired you when your weeklong leave was up. Nobara talks to you from time to time. You finished school quickly, too. Now, you have got a local factory job. Hell, you even sell a few art pieces here and there. It all pays decently but not enough to keep your old apartment. So, you had to get a smaller one in the less savory part of town. It’s alright as long as your head’s down.  
  You walk home with your sister in your arms. She talks about her school and her kindergarten teacher. Apparently, she does not like her and insists on calling her teacher a witch. 
  You try to pay attention but it’s hard to. Lately, your mind has been all over the place since the violence in the city has gotten a bit more frequent. From what you can tell, it is all due to one man: Sukuna Ryoumen. 
 At least, that’s what you heard. That he has gotten so big that the police won’t touch him and that this whole thing is just punishment for those who thought they could go against him. Whatever. It has nothing to do with you. 
That's what you have to remind yourself. Sukuna's dangerous. Not just to others but to you and your sister, no matter how much your sister says the opposite. That he was kind and that there was happiness. She isn't wrong about that part. But just because he showed you a part of himself, does not mean it's enough.  
 “Well, well, what do we have here?” You look up to see a man with scars on his face. Long grey hair and heterochromia add to his uniqueness.  
  “We don’t want any trouble.” You try to ease the situation and go around him. “That’s just too bad. I like the fight.” 
  “Ew.” Your sister looks at him with disgust. Just as he gets ready to take another step, you hear a deep voice from behind him. “What the fuck are you doing?” 
  “Kuna!” Your sister calls with a big smile on her face. The man steps aside enough for you to see Sukuna stand there with his hands in his pockets. He has more tattoos and is bigger now. He’s stronger and looks a lot meaner than he did when you knew him. 
  The man with the grey hair sputters. “Sukuna! Long time no see! How ya been?” 
“Ew.” Your sister says again. “Yeah, ew.” Sukuna agrees with her. Not that you don’t.  
    “I was just-” 
“Get out of my sight.” The guy doesn’t wait. He takes off down the street so fast. Something tells you he won’t get far, though. 
  Awkwardly, you say, “Thanks...”  
“You’re my girl, right?” He asks you. Your cheeks get warm at the question, but you don't answer. Not when the answer is obvious. Your sister jumps down and runs to him. Sukuna doesn’t hesitate to pick her up. He was always soft towards her. 
  “Come on, I'll take you two home.” A car pulls up, a model you can’t identify. He puts your sister inside and waits for you.  
  With a smile and warmth, you get inside. 
260 notes · View notes
loluzzz · 4 months
Text
Unwind before bed…
Cw: Insomnia, Handjob, Fdom!, Submale!, whimpering, begging.
A/N: not proofread. my head cannon is higuruma is most def a switch with a sub preference. that was my inspo for this 🤭
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art : @/gokutamani on x/twitter
You were already used to Hiromi’s sleeping problems. The weight he carried from all the stresses from work and the anticipation of what will behold him the next morning. You understood him. However tonight you were feeling very sleepy. The moment you thought you’d finally fall asleep you wake up from Hiromi’s tossing and turning, groaning, and the noise of him shifting the bed sheets around. It finally got on your nerves and you needed to say something.
“What’s wrong?” You said in an annoyed sleepy tone. Hiromi was using an arm to cover his eyes and the other was hidden somewhere under the sheets.
“I’m hard…” He mumbled in defeat. You were unable to hear him clearly. “Huh?” He became annoyed. He smacked his lips and lifted the sheet up.
You see his hand holding onto his throbbing cock. He finally uncovers his face. He was flushed.
“Fuck It’s so hard…” He said in a rough voice.
“Let me help.” You offered.
“I don’t want to bother you honey. It’ll pass.”
“Come on it’s okay…”
Hiromi felt conflicted. He felt selfish to ask for such a favour from you. You both had to wake up four hours from now and wouldn’t wish to ruin your sleep. However, if he didn’t get any release soon he’d probably keep you both up all night.
“You can just jerk me off. No need to go all the way…” He shyly asked. You nod then sit up behind him. Hiromi takes his hard cock out of his boxers. As soon as you grabbed it his cock twitched. He was extremely sensitive. You adjust your hand and grip it the way he likes. He takes a sharp breath and lets you do whatever you like. His whiney desperate moans began to escape.
“Just like that…mmph…” He whispered.
His whimpers grew louder. Seeing him so desperate and needy for relief made you feel so good. With your free hand you’d cover his mouth. Hiromi's eyes twitched before they rolled back into his head. He fully submitted to you at that moment. “Good boy…” You whispered in his ear.
His head leans back onto your shoulder. He continued to moan into your hand. You could see the veins on his arms as he gripped the bedsheets. You decided to joke around and let go of his cock as soon as he was about to cum. He groaned in annoyance. “Y/N don’t do this right now. Please touch me…” He begged. He lifted his hips upwards trying to get you to grab his cock again.
“Oh my…fuckkk I'm so close baby. Please? ”
“Beg.” You asked in a sultry voice
Hiromi whimpered desperately. “Touch me. Please just stroke my cock with your pretty hands. I wanna cum. Please please please.”
You went back to stroking him slowly. Your hands moved up and down his shaft as it twitched in excitement. He kept whimpering shamelessly as the pleasure became too overwhelming for him.
“So fucking good…hmmph~”
“Baby…oh my god baby please~”
“Y/N baby~ Stroke me. I’m so pathetic right now…mmmph~”
“Fuck I’m so close~”
You couldn’t help but give in by letting him cum. The way he begged for you, how he submitted to you so easily. He was such a good boy.
Your hand was covered with his hot cum. He was still leaking from his angry tip. You try getting up to get a towel to clean both of you up until you feel something tugging your wrist. Hiromi had a smirk on his face and went over to grab onto your chin.
“Sit down. You clean it.” His eyes glanced down at his cock.
Oh how the roles reversed…
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notroosterbradshaw · 1 year
Text
Heatstroke
rooster fam, avert your eyes. here’s some old-school Bucky smut. I didn’t think I’d publish Bucky stuff here, yet here we are again. Hope you enjoy x
18+, smut, fluff. Bucky wasn't much of a talker but when he puts his foot in his fat mouth, he has to make amends somehow.
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He’d heard you – you knew he had. The serum increased his awareness and blah blah blah, everyone knew his story by now and why you’d found yourself hidden behind the wall leading to the kitchen while Bucky intently studied his tablet, putting God knows what together at the bench.
You should have just stayed in your bedroom and messed around online, kept your laziness to yourself. It was safer than the situation you were about to walk into - of that you were sure. You needed another shower but the heat in the apartment would coat you in perspiration the second you towelled off anyway.
He’d heard your breathing and your elevated heart rate, he could probably smell the sweat of flight taking over as you debated whether or not to just miraculously appear and pretend not to have ducked back around the corner when you saw Bucky there.
“I know things are weird between us, but you hiding when you see me makes it a hellova worse, kitten,” he muttered. You let out an inward sigh, shoulders slumping as you turned and walked in, wiping your clammy palms on your sundress.
“Hey Buck,” you said quietly, taking to a stool across from him.
“What’s happening, babydoll?” he asked casually, not looking up from the herbs he was chopping – he was remarkable with a knife, you noted as he sliced and diced without abandon faster than any chef and much more precisely (you tried not to imagine how and when he learned the art form). You’d always found it strangely sexy when he had a knife in his hands and the precision that came with it – on missions and funnily, now in the kitchen. The smell of whatever was cooking was incredible and you hadn’t even seen what he had in the oven or on the stove. At recollection, it wasn’t his night to cook. It was…
“It’s my night to cook, could ask you the same thing.”
“Well, I know you hate cooking for Steve and me, so thought I might cover for you.”
“You don’t have to do that,” you said, a little defensive though maybe a little touched.
He shrugged, looking up, a dark wisp of hair falling into his stony eyes and pushing it away with his flesh wrist. “It’s fine, sweetheart. I enjoy it, relaxes me. Consider yourself off the hook.”
Sure I will, you wanted to reply. Everything was tit for tat in the apartment the three of you shared. Bucky would find a way to get an inadvertent favour out of you at some point when you least expected it. “Well… thanks, I guess,” you said instead, finally raising your eyes. You blinked as you noticed the smirk on his features. “But in the interest of your safety, Buck, why are you not wearing a t-shirt under the apron?”
He was a dream in his beige canvas bib apron – it worked wonders against his fair skin and the silver of his cybernetic arm. His biceps, you were pretty sure, had you salivating. His shoulders were broad under the thin straps rippling as he moved his arms to prep.
You fucking loved Summer. Even if the apartment was a thousand damn degrees and usually hotter with the body heat of yourself and two super soldiers who always ran at boiling point. But if Bucky felt the need to parade around half-naked, you weren’t one to argue. It was a true sight to behold.
“Honestly? Felt liberating to be naked,” he licked his upper lip, squinting at the recipe again before humming to himself in thought.
You peeked over the bench and noticed his bare calves and bare feet and had to scoff a laugh. “For fuck’s sake, Bucky. Are you wearing anything?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
“What if Steve comes home?”
“I’ll hear him,” he reminded you. “Just like I heard you.”
“And why did you think it would be okay if I saw you like this? You knew I’d come in here to start cooking eventually.”
He stabbed the knife into the wooden chopping back and grinned at you, his eyes locking with yours. “You’re the only one that has seen me in less, sugar. Shouldn’t be that much of a surprise,” he waved his cybernetic hand up and down his torso a little smugly.
You felt the heat rise from your toes to your hair, resting back on your chair and curling in on yourself. “I don’t think we need to bring this up now – ”
He rumbled a laugh low in his belly. “I’m wearing shorts, for fuck’s sake. What kind of deviant do you take me for?” he turned around and wriggled his toned bubble butt in his blue board shorts as you resisted a giggle. They were well hidden due to the length of the apron. “See?”
“Do we really need to go there?” you mumbled as he plucked the knife back up and continued his prep. He didn’t look up but you could see his cheekbones rise into a lurid smile.
“Anytime, anywhere, babydoll. You know that.”
You knew that very well.
You shook your head gently and started to push yourself away. “Righto – well, since it looks like you’ve got it all covered, I’ll leave you to it.”
Bucky hummed his disapproval. “Nuh-uh. You, stay. You’re not getting out of it that easily,” he paused to stop and point the knife at you. “I’m cooking and you’re gonna open this bottle of wine,” he said, handing one that was on the bench to you along with the bottle opener (you noticed it was one from Stark’s private collection). “And then we’re going to sit down to eat and talk. Clear the air,” he announced, opening the bottle still in his hands when you didn’t reach for it.
“We don’t have anything to talk about,” you said as he sighed and poured you both a generous glass of vivid Bordeaux red.
“Drink,” he repeated. “Then we talk.”
“Cheers to you too,” you muttered though credit where credit was due, Bucky had found a good one. He raised himself a glass and toasted you gently.
“Cheers, sweetheart,” he winked before heading to the stove to continue his assault on the kitchen.
“Where is Steve?” you asked, your second glass well and truly going down a treat, loosening you up considerably. You were in your usual seat as Bucky wandered in, now with a shirt and placed a plate before you and one for him at his usual place across from you.
“No idea,” Bucky shrugged.
You weren’t a complete idiot, he knew this. You assumed this is why he’d volunteered dinner and made sure the bottle of wine was on hand. It was discussion time and Bucky knew what you didn’t want to talk about.
You were resisting taking your relationship to the next level. He hadn’t pressured you, but everything had been pointing in that direction and it terrified you.
It was only supposed to be a joyous and mutually beneficial ‘friends with benefits’-type of arrangement. No harm, no foul to either of you until he mumbled that he loved you ‘so fucking much’ a week or so ago as he drifted off to sleep after a strenuous mission and recovery fuckathon upon his return home.
“It’s only us, isn’t it?” you sighed, taking the salad from the middle of the table and loading your plate up before continuing, “You made sure he’s out for the night.”
“Yeah,” he gave a small smile. “He’s at some bar with Sam and Natalia. It’s just us, babydoll,” he confirmed, taking a sip of his wine and watching your reaction through his dark lashes. He had to admit, he loved seeing you squirm. “I asked him to make himself scarce.”
“Of course you did,” you focused on your (argh, perfectly cooked at medium rare, fuck it) steak and piled it into your mouth as gracefully as you could. Bucky watched you, humoured.
“Well, at least you haven’t bolted yet,” he noted jovially.
“Don’t confuse me sitting here without me wanting to do that,” you sniped, ticked off he’d lulled you into a false sense of security.
“Look,” he delicately sliced his steak and took a bite, chewing as he continued, “I know I threw you, I’m real well aware I should have kept my fat fuckin’ trap shut. I just thought I wasn’t comin’ home to you, okay?” his voice suddenly low and eyes were paying very close attention to his food.
You sat up straighter at his confession and he sighed while your eyes widened. “Bucky… what happened?” you put your wine glass down and pushed your plate away with a clang.
He tried to brush the thought away. “It’s not about that – ”
“Buck, it’s exactly like that,” you stood up and walked around the table. He moved his chair back as you lifted the loose skirt of your dress and crawled onto him to straddle across his lap. “What happened?” you begged, lifting his chin for his stony eyes to meet yours, keeping his jaw in your soft palms. “Look at me.”
His cybernetic hand reached for his face and rubbed his eyes, suddenly he looked exhausted. “Was ambushed,” he said quietly. “I’m not telling you the small details – you don’t needa know – ” he held a hand up to your mouth that was open and ready to protest. “By the time Steve got there, I was the last one standing. Don’t worry.”
“Who?” you asked quietly, your warm hands rubbing against his stubbly cheeks before settling on the back of his neck and massaging his smooth, warm skin, twirling soft hair around your fingers to calm him. He moved to rest his forehead on your shoulder and wrapped his arms around your waist, clinging to you for dear life - it was uncommon for Bucky to react this way and it terrified you.
You had to remind yourself all you wanted to do was comfort him. That is what you had agreed to in the very beginning when this mess started. Comfort, familiarity, fun.
Not love.
“They tried the triggers,” he whispered, not looking up, the shame evident in his rough voice. “I know they don’ work any more, but babydoll, I just…” he looked up and inhaled sharply. “I thought I was a goner. I didn’t think I was coming home.”
You kissed his hair, only to imagine his fear as he set the scene for you. The devastation your heart was feeling for him to have to go through that - knowing it was something he’d been through for decades and it constantly repeated for him.
“You’re okay, Buck. I’m right here. I’ll never let anyone hurt you. Not again,” you cooed on repeat, hoping he knew and understood.
He nodded, pulling you closer. You heard a sniff and he tightened his grip again, knowing how intensely he needed you. “I’m sorry about what I said. But I can’t apologise for how I feel, baby,” his voice so low you almost couldn’t hear it. “I love you.”
You nodded. “I know, Buck,” you replied quietly.
“And as much as you deny it,” he said. “I know exactly how you feel too, sweetheart.”
You raked your hands through his long dark hair hoping to relieve some tension in his body and pulled his gaze back to yours.
“You don’t owe me anything. It’s fine.”
“Don’t be like that,” you begged. “Bucky, I do – ”
“I know, I told you,” he said with a small smile, grasping your sides under his strong hands. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready and I promise I won’t be surprised.”
You couldn’t resist the scoff that bubbled to your lips as he brightened considerably, a playful smirk now on his lips. You slid off his thighs and returned to your side of the table, stuffing your mouth with salad, the aura in the room changed for the better. “Times like this make me really not wanna say it,” you huffed.
“Times like this make me really want to bend you over the table and have my way with you,” he retorted as you choked on a piece of cucumber and he took a sip of wine, completely cool and collected. You swallowed hard and had a sip yourself to calm yourself. Resolve set in.
“Then what are you waiting for, big boy?” you challenged as the table lurched and he stood, his predatory stalk around the dinner table as he hitched you from your seat, his breath heavy down your neck as he took you in. “What am I waiting for? I’ve been waiting for you my whole life and now you’re here. You’ll rue the day you asked, princess,” he hitched you over his shoulder and made his way to your room, slamming the door closed with his foot as the walls rattled and he tossed you on the bed, his hungry gaze telling you to you were in strife.
And you couldn’t wait.
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The next morning, the other side of your bed was empty. Cool, Bucky must have been up for a while. You sighed, rubbing your tired eyes. You hadn’t gotten much sleep and your tummy was rumbling after missing most of your dinner the night before for other more extraneous activities.
“Buck?” you called quietly, finding your discarded underwear and throwing his t-shirt from the night before on. You ran your hands through your mussed hair and pushed it off your face before padding quietly back to your room to retrieve your dressing gown in case Steve was home. While he was supportive of whatever it was he thought you and Bucky had, he had announced it was only fair the bedtime behaviours weren’t thrown in his face, to which you and Bucky agreed.
But apparently not this morning.
You burst out laughing as you entered the kitchen. “Are you serious right now?”
“What?” Bucky looked back over his shoulder. “See something you like?”
“Clearly Steve isn’t home yet,” you noted as you approached him and wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, sneaking your cold hands under the apron he wore over the stove and touching his scorching skin. He let out a slight shriek at your cool touch. He never was fond of the cold.
Bucky laughed quietly. “No, Steve didn’t come home. Guess he stayed at the Tower.”
“You told him to stay at the Tower too, didn’t you?” you sighed. Poor Steve. Relegated to the Tower from his own apartment so his roommates could do… well, a lot to each other.
“Yeah,” he snorted.
“Gotta say though. A bit of a fan of this naked chef caper you’ve got going on right now,” you gave his body an appreciative once over and weren’t overly surprised to find your body going back into overdrive for him.
“Naked as the day I was born, kitten,” he confirmed as your hands travelled from his broad, muscular shoulders and traced down his bulging biceps (one warm, the other cool under your touch) through to his delts, lats and descending to grab a handful of bare ass that was begging to be groped. He chuckled darkly, wriggling his butt again. “My junk is very close to the hot plate, sweetheart. Don’t get too frisky. It won’t be a desired result for either of us!”
You stifled a giggle. “Never,” you replied, kissing rippled scar tissue on his left shoulder blade. A visible shudder shot through him as he melted like butter under your lips.
“That feels fuckin’ amazin’,” he crooned, his usually well-concealed Brooklyn accent seeping through due to his increased desire, head lolling back a little. His loose dark hair shimmied across his shoulders softly.
“So, what’s cooking here, chef?” you held his hips and loosened the straps to the apron. You felt him pause.
“Uh, pancakes, baby. What’s cooking back there?” he replied as you raised the strap of the apron over his head, letting it pool at his bare feet and leaving him completely undressed. He swiftly turned the burners off. You turned him to face you as he took a step closer and thankfully, away from the stove and loosened your dressing down, curious as to what may be hiding underneath. “I see you dressed yourself again. Musn’t ‘ave got my memo,” his tone a little miffed as you giggled into his skin. “Nice shirt though. Have one similar. Looks better on you, I gotta admit,” he smiled, running his tongue across his gleaming teeth. “Think you should lose it.”
You nodded as he lifted the shirt over your head, tossing it somewhere over your shoulder as he hitched you up and sat you on the bench, spreading your knees wide so he could stand between them.
“Fuck, you look good enough to eat,” he licked his full, plump lips predatorily. The heat of his gaze eyes screamed passion, lust and maybe a little danger. Humming, he ran his calloused hands from a tug of your hair to the seam of your undies. He forced your gaze to him as he used his cybernetic hand to push them to the side, eagerly sliding his finger between your warm, slippery folds. 
It embarrassed you that you were always on for him. Your breath hitched at the coolness his touch brought and goose bumps cascaded across your body. 
“This may be the only place in the apartment that I’ve never had my way with you,” he muttered before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your neck, your scent as well as his cologne on your skin from the day before grounding him.
Resting your forehead on your shoulder, you wrapped your arms around his chest in hopes to keep upright.
“You okay?” he whispered, his tongue tracing the rim of your ear and his thumb drawing patterns on your clit, your reply incoherent. “Should I keep going?” he whispered as he took one of your hands from him and repositioned it around his eagerly awaiting cock.
“You should definitely keep going,” you insisted, your hand with a mind of its own as you swirled the pre-come around the tip of his straining head and put your palm to work, twisting and tugging as his hips started to move off their own volition. 
“We eat here,” he grunted. “You pretty little hand tho...”
You gasped as a current ran through your body. “We’ll just make sure we disinfect,” you shuddered before you could finish the sentence. “Really well,” you finally managed as his fingers sent shockwaves through your system. “God, that feels good,” your head fell back as he smiled wickedly, pleased. “But I want you.”
He took a step closer, released your grasp on him and used his hand to slide his cock in just enough before he used his hands to hold your cheeks, he licked your lip and kissed you wet and wildly, his tongue forceful against yours as he moved within you and thrusting gently. Slow to the hilt, knowing exactly how you liked it. It was perfection how well he could make your body succumb to his whim. 
“Jesus,” you managed against his mouth. “Bucky,” you breathed as your torsos meshed together.
“I know, baby girl,” he promised, his hips picking up a gentle rhythm, slow and turning you inside out. “It feels fuckin’ amazin’ to me too.”
“I feel it,” you told him, dragging his eyes to meet you. “I feel it,” you confided. The way your heart raced when you were around him, the lust, the need... the devotion to keeping him safe and desire to be all he needed. 
You loved Bucky Barnes wildly, madly, terrifyingly so. 
“I know, darlin’, I know you love me. I love you so much too,” he sealed your words with a softer kiss, though it seeped with so much passion. “You don’t have to – ” he groaned, unable to hold it back as his hips started moving again. “You don’t have to say it back.”
You managed to push him back at arm's length, his lustfully dark eyes fluttering open as he looked back at you, a little confused. “I do, Buck.”
He breathed, his hands running from your jaw, down the curve of your neck, between your breasts, tickling your belly lightly and resting on your thighs. “Then say it,” he dared.
“I love you, Buck.”
The grin that spread across his face looked like it may have hurt him, his stony eyes shining and the dimples on his cheeks making a rare appearance. “Well, there ya go,” he teased, moving closer again, his lips moving to yours as he returned your affirmation. “Wasn’t so bad, was it?”
You sighed quietly and he shut you up with a firm thrust, reminding you both where you were and the task at hand. You wrapped your arms around his neck, dragging him close as his mouth left wet kisses against your skin. He grasped your thighs, getting closer as your head fell back in pure ecstasy. “Need you. Make me cum.”
“I’ve got you, baby doll,” he whispered. “Lemme make you feel real fuckin’ good, okay?” he begged as he moved his warm fingers to your centre again.
“Christ,” you muttered, your gaze dropping to where your bodies met, the sexiest sight and allowing your body to tighten as suddenly all you could see was white, your body quaking as you came undone and collapsed backwards on the bench as he caught you with a humoured huff.
All this power he had over you and the three words said aloud made it even better.
“Yes, baby,” he chuckled lowly, his movements starting to get a little erratic, taking absolutely everything you had to offer to him, not much longer before his hips sped up, bringing him to his climax as well and crashing into you like a freight train as he came, harsh and ragged, desperate. “Jesus, fuck,” he panted, pulling your body impossibly closer. “I love you,” he whispered again, taking your face in his hands and kissing you deeply. “I fucking love you so much. I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
“I love you too, Buck,” you said again as he gave you a softer kiss, his phone pinging across the counter. “God, that’s not work, is it?” you asked him. You knew your luck was running out, he’d been home for a few days and knew time was dwindling before he was to assemble.
He sighed. “I dunno, sweetheart,” he gave you a meek grin as he gently pulled out, your thighs crossing quickly to avoid a sticky mess across the counter. He sighed and checked his phone. “Worse.”
“Unless it's aliens or robots back to fuck shit up again, it cannot be worse. So, where are you off to?” you sighed sadly.
“Nowhere,” he chuckled. “Steve complaining about livin’ it up in the Tower while we made house here,” he winked. You gave Bucky a shy smile as he rolled his eyes and replied to Steve before picking up the apron and discarded clothes. “Come on, let’s get you showered, love,” he tugged your hair and gave you another gentle kiss. “Then I’ll make you lunch.”
“Dressed?” you asked, hoping to hide the disappointment in your voice.
“Probably best,” he sighed, taking your hand and leading you to the bathroom to clean up a long night and another leisurely round against the cool shower tiles. “Grumpy old bastard will be home at some point.”
567 notes · View notes
cosmicwhoreo · 10 months
Text
WARNING! I'M GOING TO BE AN ART NERD AND DRONE ON ABOUT COLOR THEORY TALKING ABOUT WHITE PEARL'S DESIGN!
"OOooooH INK! Given new details of her design, are you still gonna give her melanin in your artw-"
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YOU BET YOUR SORRY ASS I AM!! mostly because I am a SLOT for that good color contrast- seriously, if I can be an annoying art nerd; My one critique on this design is... It's too much pink and white. "oh! well dur! It's WHITE PEARL cookie! Of course she's gonna be white! And the pink is a clever inverse of her future blu-" I'M NOT SAYING SHE CAN'T BE PINK AND WHITE! I'm just saying with nothing to differentiate from the two colors, they just sorta blend together and you have to really stare at the art to see all the finer details. HELL! you don't gotta give her a darker skin tone to fix that to help draw the eyes to her face, you can just make the eyes turquoise or a shade of blue!
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behold! A really shite edit for example! ( I also added it to the frills, because it's best to give complementary colors all throughout the design, unless you REALLY WANNA DRAW IN THE VIEWER to this specific trait of the character for whatever purpose. btw love how much longer they are in this ver-) as you can see, It's more easy to digest and take in. At least for me.
If you like the design as is, more power to you! Genuinely! I think It can look good in certain scenes!
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But for me? TOO MUCH LIGHT COLORS to really define the outline of them... WHICH IS WHY I'M STICKING TO MY POC PEARL DESIGN AND I DEFY YOU TO TRY AND STOP ME!
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labyrinthofsphinx · 1 month
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Behold, terrible people and the muffin they stole!
A scene from my drabble below. Wanted to do something special so a bit of art to go with. As always, let me know your thoughts, guys!
Statistical Outliers
“So, I’m your man, huh?”
“You know, it’s a fucking shame you just got that new head of yours because if you say that one more fucking time, I will bash it in again.”
The day hadn’t exactly gone as planned, but he won’t complain about the ending, at least. After calming both Valentino and Velvette down, enough that a manhunt for the imagined Alastor shadow wasn’t going to sound off anytime soon, he had to compensate them for…well, their time, he’d suppose. He didn’t expect that kind of reaction, the reactionary viciousness. Which also meant compensation had to be just as well.
Vel was easy to fix. He just gave her his credit card. Go nuts with it.
Val was harder to please, but less painful to his wallet. He still took him out, rented out the whole nightclub for just him and his groupies. They drank like fish and spent a terribly long time in the club’s backrooms. Val, still reeling from the damage Vox did to him just the night before, was absolutely ravaged by days end.
Not that the day ended when they got back, mind you. Hence the teasing.
“No need to be so hostile, Val. I’m just saying-”
“Yeah? Well, now you need to shut up.”
He was on the lounge, trying to pretend like he wasn’t showing off his legs again. As if they weren’t already covered top to bottom in marks, bites, and scratches. He stretched out, arms gliding along his hips, toying with the belt of yet another bathrobe that Vox will need to replace. The man was insatiable, he’ll give him that.
“Hmm.” He brought his head forward, right next to Val’s antenna. They were sensitive, much more than you’d expect. The slight vibrations of a voice sent them twitching. The static from a TV had them spiraling. Vox teased a breath by them. “Sure, Val. Whatever you want, today.”
He didn’t really want him to shut up. It was one of his favorite things about Vox, he’s pretty sure. Valentino was a man of ego, and he loved nothing more than having it stroked in every possible, conceivable way. He’s never said as much, but he’s pretty sure that’s why he always petitions him in the monitor room. There’s just something appealing to the man about having eyes watch them from everywhere, of hearing praise from everywhere. Especially if it was Vox’s.
He shivered when Vox ever so gently ran his fingers through with his antenna. Had he not been spent from before, Vox’s is pretty sure Val would’ve leapt up and dragged Vox to the floor with him.
“What I want would involve enough screaming to wake the damn ring.” He huffed.
“Oh, you want to scream now?” Vox teased. “I can help with that.”
“Vox, you talk too much.” He said, as if he wasn’t vibrating from the idea.
“That’s what they tell me.” He joked, pulling away enough to make Valentino miss his presence by his side.
It was always like this, this tugging and pulling. Some days, Val would want nothing more than Vox. Other days, well, Vox loses his face. One could never quite tell where the dice were going to land, but he’d be a liar to say that there wasn’t something he loved about it, in a sick sense of the word. Sure, he never wanted to get his head rearranged, but Val being in a violent mood could be fun, has been fun in the past.
It was just a whole lot less fun when he ended up with the target on his head. Honestly, he can’t even remember when that started to happen, only that he just had to account for it in the schedule and budget.
But at least it was still Vox. His anger and desire was still centered on Vox.
Until Angel Dust happened.
Cut it out, Vox. Don’t think of him right now. That line of thinking never goes anywhere good. Besides, he was still on camera! Can’t be frowning in the middle of the scene, now can we?
His hands quickly wrapped around Val’s sides. Before he had time to react, he’d already pulled him up in his arms. Val’s legs hitched at Vox’s waist, and his arms tugged across his shoulders and face.
That was another thing Val loved, being manhandled. Being eleven feet tall apparently gives people the wrong impression, but Vox knew better. Val was a moth, a fuzzy casing of exoskeleton covering nothing but softness underneath. He seemed strong because he was big, and because some of that frame gave him power to work with. But it was nothing compared to the complex dance of flesh, bone, and machinery. He’s not as tall, obviously, but there was a reason Val always chose to aim for his face or the delicate parts still left on his skin. If he bit too far, or aimed just a little wrong, Val could accidentally end up damn near breaking his own hand.
 Machines didn’t have the same rules for bodies that living things do. Both were complicated and everything inside served a function for higher operations, but machines were made to carry out everything at a hundred percent of their ability. They do what they’re programed to, nothing more and nothing less. Organic machinery was built for the opposite, the gradients and the fine tuning. One was determination made from metal and iron, and the other was calculation on the scale of nerves and cells. And Vox was a mismatched mess stuck between the two.
That meant that when he did decide to pull, there was little Val could do but ride out the wave. Not that this wasn’t already what he had in mind, given his poison nearly dripping onto Vox’s face.
“Oh, I should’ve just gone to that shitty hotel and brought you back Alastor’s head.” Val purred. “I can’t imagine what you’d do then.”
While in theory that was incredibly hot, Vox wasn’t going to be giving him any ideas. Especially since this is Val, and he might think his stupid theory is a good idea later.
“Don’t tell me your thinking of leaving now?” Vox’s voice added a bit of television fading, just as he brought a finger to tease the length of Val’s spine.
“Oh, not on your life.”
“Good.”
One last steamy session on the longue later and a cleanup in the bath that also might’ve gotten a little steamy, and Vox had them both tucked into his bed. He never smoked Val’s cigarettes, even after they were done. Sure, it might not have the same effect on him as it does others, screen head and all that, but something in the chemicals brings his thoughts around to the worst. Maybe Val smoked too much before making out, because Vox’s head was dragging him around even without the visible smoke.
Alastor wasn’t just a Vox problem. Val probably knew that better than Vel, but she’s been around long enough to know. If the king falls, the game is over, isn’t it? Is that the only reason they came charging in today? Maybe. And why would he expect something else? He shouldn’t.
Every machine had a use, a function. Vox keeps the train moving. Vox keeps the Vees at the top. Vox keeps all of Hell focused on them, loving them.
But to his fellow Vees? Vox solves problems. That’s his function.
He admits there’s attachment there but, well, let’s just say he’s never under the assumption that the attachment wasn’t built from necessity. Like a certain radio freak mentioned once, keep only the necessities, everything else is a potential liability.
But then there’s days like today. When something bad almost happened, or he thought it would, and he was a little surprised they showed up. I mean, obviously they would. As he said, he was required for things to work. The body didn’t function without a brain.
That didn’t stop his replay on Val’s and Vel’s words, ‘my man’ and ‘my boys’ respectively. He liked the sound of that.
Then, of course, there was the kid. He literally clawed his way up most of the levels of Vee tower to make sure he was alive. Not to mention that this is literally like the second time he’s promised to maim the kid and he still insists that they’re friends. If it wasn’t for the fact that he tested what the kid said about his suggestions not working before Vel took him to the spa, Vox would be questioning if he accidentally hypnotized the kid into liking him. Because none of that is normal. Then again, who the hell is normal down here?
The more he thinks on it, what was the kid’s plan? What if Alastor had been in the room? What if they were fighting? What if Vox was losing? Not that he would, because he wouldn’t be, but hypothetically. What would he do then?
He wasn’t good in a fight, that much was clear. He didn’t have powers, and certainly nothing that would stand up eldritch shadow demons…
Wait, did he just assume the kid would be on his side? Why did his calcs jump to that?
Feedback on his systems told him exactly why, playing back footage from the past several days. Simply, because Vox was his friend, and it was obvious now that there was little he wouldn’t do for his friends.
Oh, fucking damn it. The kid latched on like tumor to the brain.
He liked that kid, selfishly and stupidly attached to him.
He was trying hard not to smile, but it’s difficult to force a face without muscles to do much of anything, especially when his program literally pours his thoughts into expression. And it was hard to be in a bad mood right now.
‘My man’. ‘My boys’. ‘My friend’.
“Voxxy, your screen is pink.”
“Shut up, Val.”
“Oh, it’s practically maroon now.”
“Shut the fuck up, Val!”
Like adding gasoline to flame, the bedroom door was flung open. Distracted as he’d been, he failed to notice that Vel had come back from the spa and already jumped into pajamas. She kicked open the door, and waltzed in like she owned the place. In her arms, the kid dangled like a stuffed animal fresh out the dryer.
“I’m assuming since you guys are talking in full sentences that you’re done now?” Vel said. For once, her phone was tucked away, probably in a pocket in her lounge shorts.
“‘Till the morning, I suppose. It’s the best way to start mornings.” Val answered for them, a finger teasing the side of Vox’s head.
The kid’s expression was blank, like he was staring into a void. He was clean at least.
“What happened to you?” Vox asked.
“We went to the spa.” Mimicking Val, Velvette answered for the two of them. “I got everything done, including a two hour massage. The masseur was some centipede guy, thousand arms and all. You really need steal that guy, Vee. My back feels great.”
He kept looking at the kid, waiting for his answer. When he finally decided that he could answer with the other two around, he spoke like he was experiencing a flashback to a war.
“I now know what it’s like to be play-doh.”
Despite himself, Vox tossed his head back, rolling.
“Anyways,” Vel readjusted the kid in her arms and started walking over to the bed. “you two are dressed, yeah? Because this is an invasion.”
Well, Val was as dressed as Val ever is, kept decent just barely by the length of Vox’s robes. He really needed to start ordering them five sizes too tall at this point. As for himself, he had the decency to swap into regular pajamas…just in case he and kid couldn’t sleep and wanted to give Asteroids another go.
Not that Velvette waited for an answer. The bed was big, obviously. It had to be to hold Val. Save for when he unfolds his wings, the bed could hold an ungodly amount of people. Honestly, it was just cheaper to buy two of the same size bed when he was ordering Val’s. That’s the only reason it was so stupidly big. Vox didn’t share the bed often enough to warrant it, unlike Val.
Velvette climbed over him, landing just beneath his right arm and tucking herself against his chest. In doing so, she pulled off the blanket. Probably a smart decision because of how hot Vox was to sleep against. He was unofficially Velvette’s favorite that-time-of-the-month pillow. Val, to his left, just wrapped his arms around Vox’s legs and his left arm, as per always.
The kid was crushed in the space between Vel’s body and his own. With all that fur, he could imagine it was going to get very hot, very quickly there. Using the one arm that hadn’t been abducted yet, he punched the pillow beside his head. Then, he snuck down, plucked the kid up, and put him on it.
He was rewarded by an honest smile. In hell, that was a pretty rare gift.
Then, the little body wrapped around that arm, a big fluffy tail curling down and tickling his sides. Holy shit, he was small. The kid was curled almost entirely into the palm of his hand.
Before he even knew it, he was surrounded. Trapped, you might even say, by a tangled mess of bodies all fighting for a bit of his body heat.
Oh, there were worse ways to end the evening. Barring something amazing happening, like Alastor keeling over dead or Lucifer handing over his crown, this might just be as good as it gets.
You know, fuck that heaven bullshit. This was heaven.
“’Night, Vee.” Velvette mumbled, half asleep.
“Night, guys.”
He didn’t get to sleep right away. He stayed awake long enough to hear the little noises, an offkey song of sleep. Val squeaked in his sleep, randomly. His wings would flutter together sometimes, but the fuzz on the scales kept it from sounding much more than the sound of skin touching skin. Vel talks in her sleep, sort of. She mumbles more than anything. It was never enough to make a sentence out of, in fact it sounded a bit like baby babble. Occasionally, her phone would ping, but he was so used to the sound now that it was basically a backtrack to his day.
The kid was the newest sound. He knew now that foxes could, apparently, squeak. But, as Vox was sitting there and gingerly gliding his fingers through freshly cleaned fur, he heard a different sound.
They purr? Why do they purr?
Unconsciously, the kid snuggled his face into Vox’s hand, the ridiculously soft coat almost swallowing up his digits.
Oh, this was all too cute. This was all too fucking much for today. Cuteness aggression hit him like a truck again, and it was a struggle against every instinct in his body not to move, for fear of ruining it all by waking one of them up.
Then, he caught on something.
The collar that Velvette had put on the kid on day one was snug tight against his throat. Drowned out by his fur, Vox had almost forgotten about it. It felt so odd, out of place. The cold metal stuck flat to his skin, with only the little charm hanging a little more comfortably away.
He tugged a little, just enough to see it better.
The bright blue ‘V’ looked almost neon in the dark, surrounded by that deep red heart. It really did look like a dog collar like this, didn’t it?
Dehumanizing something was easy here. No one even looked human anymore. Very few acted human even when they were alive.
A few days ago, he didn’t give it a second thought. He couldn’t have cared less. Now though?
Carefully, he undid the little magnetic hook in the back. Unlike a normal collar, this one was designed to never come off, not unless one of the three of them did it. The key was a simple, a contrary magnetic pull that would activate the lock, but too strong or too weak of a pull would just break it and cause it to get stuck. Vel probably had the actual key in her room, but it didn’t take much of Vox’s power to undo a little magnetic flux.
He twirled it around the kid’s wrist instead, like a bracelet, not unlike the ones Velvette always wears anyways. As the clasp closed, his little paw wrapped around his palm, bringing it back up to his face and cradling it like a pillow.
“Night, Drift.” Vox said, before letting the night and its new symphony drag him off someplace nice.
That might’ve been the best sleep of his life.
Part 1/ Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7/ Part 8/ Part 9/ Part 10/ Part 11
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retardedpsyche · 1 month
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Behold...
MY RETARDED MARWARE SHIP ART + SHORT FIC!!!!!!!
My brain has thoroughly decayed,,, so here you guys go. :3 This is a Tumblr exclusive, unless this does well. I'm considering making a full fic about this ship on AO3 and-- it hurts ;-;;
Here's the silly drawing...
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Anyway, as promised: Here's the fic :P (also yes I colorpicked the N64 mario XDDDD)
-
As the fat italian plumber wrapped his thick arms around my lanky body I froze. I had tried to stop him from coming anywhere near me but to no avail. He had caught me by surprise. I was sure he'd kill me right then and there, but - no. Instead he hugged me with an obnoxious ''Yahoo!''. It, puzzled me. My digital eyes trail over to him. I couldn't see his face properly from this angle. Even still, his body language screamed happy. His other leg was raised up as if he was a fairy princess, and his grip on my torso was tight but gentle. My heart raced. I haven't felt this way in ages, if ever. It was weird, I didn't know what to think.
After all, this mans friends despised me. Why would he suddenly greet me in such a manner? Just yesterday they all wanted me dead. What changed? But then again, logic and reasoning wasn't one of his strong suits to begin with.
I slowly pat my hand on his head. I wasn't sure what else to do. He seemed to take it well, looking up at me - gosh, he was so short - and grinning.
''Mario think's you are his new spaghetti!''
-''..What?''
And with that, he turns the channel on my TV head to the spaghetti channel. To be honest, I didn't even know that existed. I grunt, turning my regular face back on. As much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn't help but find his moronic behaviour weirdly cute.
Mario pouts. He pulled away and crossed his arms.
I exhale and slam my hand against my head. An idea pops into my brain, ''You know what?'' I crouch onto his level, ''If you join my brand new TV show, I'll give you all the spaghetti in the world. Deal?''
I knew the rest of the idiot plumbers friends would think worse of me if they found out about this, but... Whatever. It's not like I can ever redeem myself. If atleast one person liked me, I would be okay with that, for now anyway. It's not like someone like me, a selfish bastard would ever be liked again. I was so close to greatness, yet...
''Are you sad?'' The red italian asked suddenly. I didn't realize I was. I guess my stupid expressions I can't control took over. Of course, everything goes wrong. Per usual. I stand up, clearing my throat.
-''Ahem! Of course not. Now, do you accept the offer or not?''
''Okey!'' Mario gives me a thumbsup.
-''Great, now go on, hang out with your friends.'' I turn around to leave, ''Oh! One last thing..'' My voice lowers down to a whisper: ''Try not to tell anyone about this, okay?''
Mario nods enthusiastically and waves goodbye. He runs in the other direction as I began to walk away, thoughts swirling in my head.
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bonkersdbobcat · 2 years
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cryoculus · 1 year
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— dream a little (dream of me) ⟢
you're a modern-day succubus just trying to get by, and your superior, mister zhongli is next on your hit-list. but every time you invade his dreams, he becomes someone else entirely…
★ FEATURING; zhongli x succubus!reader
★ WORD COUNT; 23.3k words
★ TAGS; modern au, office au, superior-subordinate relationship, angst, like SO MUCH angst, zhongli dreams abt his past life as rex lapis, smut
★ WARNINGS; graphic sexual content (minors dni), some depictions of violence (it was the archon war so), reader gets drunk at some point in the story and a co-worker exhibits unwanted interest, near-death experiences, mentions of pregnancy
★ NOTES; this was the longest thing i've ever written in one sitting TT wrote it for 3 days straight, and i'm honestly still proud of it even a year later! take note that this was loosely based off a manhwa i read in passing called sweet dream, so if the plot is a liiittle familiar to you, that's probably why!
★ HEADER ART CR; donaldakron on twt
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★ SMUT TAGS; sex dreams, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex, clothed sex, i-thought-i-was-gonna-lose-you-forever sex, riding, the perfect balance of sweet and dirty talk, creampie
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“Miss? Are you alright?”
You blink out the spots in your eyes when you hear Ganyu call out to you in a worried tone. She’s standing awkwardly by the side of your cubicle when you finally snap out of it, and you receive the documents in her hands with a rushed apology.
“Sorry, I’ve been feeling under the weather lately,” you reason, signing whatever she needs to have signed before handing it back. “This is nothing, though. Anything else you need?”
She hesitates for a moment, as if gauging whether or not she should pry, before speaking her mind. “Um, if you’re having trouble falling asleep, I could recommend a shop that sells qingxin petal tea. It’s based in Feiyun Slope, and I always order my stress relieving herbs from there.”
Despite the weight settling across your eyelids, you manage to flash Ganyu a gentle smile, tearing a blank Post-It off the pad on your desk before giving it to her. “Could you write down the name of the store? I’ll make sure to check it out before I head home for the night.”
Ganyu visibly perks up. “O-Of course!”
When she slides the piece of paper back onto your desk, the secretary exchanges farewells with a curt nod – saying she has to pass over the files for Mister Zhongli’s perusal before anything else. If Ganyu notices the way your staged grin falters, she doesn’t say anything. But once you’re alone, you can only slink back into your chair with a contemplative look on your face. 
You aren’t going to check out the store that Ganyu recommended like you initially promised. After all, your kind has never responded much to any sort of human medicine. Whatever’s bothering you is only going to be resolved if you stop being stubborn and fed on time – something you only care to do once a month at most. 
Even after living your life as a succubus for almost twenty-four years, the idea of having to draw out your life force from… that still made you sick to your stomach. It’s bad enough that your strange constitution wouldn’t let you settle down and have normal relationships, but having to constantly find a source of nutrition is a pain in and of itself. 
Your body has quite the standard for the men you’re supposed to suck some sexual energy out of, too. When you indiscriminately pick some rando you saw on the street, you might not effectively absorb the energy you harvested if you aren’t invested enough.
Case in point: unless you try to sleep with someone you remotely care about in their dreams, you’re going to keep craving for a proper fix.
Last month, you had to terrorize the poor barista who’s been serving you coffee at that new café across the street. You thought he wouldn’t think much of it, since you had the inkling the guy was hitting on you every time you ordered. But lo and behold, mister charming, suave barista is actually quite timid when it goes down to it. Your sessions usually took an hour at most to complete and you wouldn’t have to harvest energy again for at least another month. But that guy? You could barely ask him to strip without having to deal with him stumbling out of his dream-bed out of sheer embarrassment. Took you three hours in that dreamscape just to get the bare minimum out of him. And that just goes to show that the people you meet aren’t always what they seem to be – yourself included.
As entertaining as that session turned out though, you couldn’t really make substantial progress with mister barista, which eventually led to your premature hunger pangs. You started feeling a bit off-kilter last week, but you made the mistake of listing it off as nothing but a seasonal flu or something. Once your co-workers caught wind of how exhausted you are at work, you knew it was that time of the month again.
You can always just make up for the minimal energy gain of harvesting from a complete stranger by invading multiple strangers’ dreams, but you still have some shred of dignity. Well, you could just settle with the men in your department, but those slobs are the last ones you’d ever consider sleeping with. But then again, your team is working on a big, end-of-year project that you can’t afford to slack off on, so you need to find this month’s match before your body shuts down completely – even if that means seducing your awful desk neighbor in his sleep.
“Hard at work again, I see.”
You startle at the sound of a deep-seated voice coming from behind you, whisking your chair around to see your boss showing you a kind smile. It isn’t unusual for Zhongli to do some rounds in the office, but –
“Ganyu was looking for you, sir,” you blurt out, trying not to focus on how his neatly pressed tie compliments his eyes. “She had me sign some documents for the project you asked me to oversee, and it seems like she was on her way to your office.”
He hums. “I see. I just made a quick trip to the pantry, but I’ve yet to figure out how one operates the machine they installed in the break room. That’s why I just asked my assistant to purchase a drink from the coffee shop down the street… Are you alright? You’re looking quite pale.”
“Yeah, I’ve never been better,” you lie, trying to force out those memories of too-timid-for-his-own-good barista out of your head. “I’ll make sure to follow up on my assigned report at the end of the week, sir.” 
Once again, your senses jolt to life when you feel a large, comforting palm settle on your aching shoulders, giving you a few pats. The sincerity in Zhongli’s eyes doesn’t fade, and you’re seriously wondering how he has it to be so encouraging all the time.
“Everyone deserves to rest when their bodies require it,” he says. “Don’t hesitate to file for sick leave if you’re unable to perform at your fullest because of health reasons. I didn’t overhaul the employee benefits clause in your contracts for nothing.”
Your face heats up at the thought of your boss being this considerate of your well-being. You’ve been working at Wangsheng Corporation for almost two years now, but employees have never been treated the way Zhongli treats them. It’s a miracle that he got transferred here last month – with his gentle voice and mindfulness of others. When he walked through the doors of your department that day, the last thing you expected was a compassionate superior, given that all those assholes in the corporate ladder only cared about money and none else. He was easily a breath of fresh air in the smog of Liyue Harbor, and you’re not about to complain.
“I best be on my way,” he tells you with a hint of remorse. “I’ll be attending a board meeting in thirty minutes. Once it’s been adjourned, you can come to me if you need anything.”
Come to him if you need anything…  
For some reason, his words ring inside your head longer than they have to. But before you can even get your bearings straight, your mind is suddenly plagued with images of your boss in a more sensual setting. 
You picture a Zhongli who’s free from the stifling confines of his suit – regardless of how dashing he looks in it, you always wondered what he would look like dressed down. You imagine him lying on his bed, golden eyes half-lidded as he beckons you closer; how his hot breath would make your skin tingle as he whispers all the lewd things he wishes to do with you – 
“Of course, sir,” you tell him in real life, mustering up a smile that’s enough to hide your own embarrassment. “Thank you for taking the time to stop by.”
Zhongli raises a hand to wave at you before sauntering off to his office, leaving you alone with lecherous thoughts and a growling stomach. But the moment the door clicks shut behind him, you come to a guilty conclusion.
Guess I already found this month’s target. 
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The hardest part, you think, is falling asleep before feeding.
You’re still at odds with everything you had to do just to survive, so of course you’ll feel a bit queasy when you lay on your bed in preparation. Whether it’s that one cute barista or your attractive boss, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re nervous beyond belief. Navigating a person’s dreamscape is just as tricky as it sounds, and if you aren’t careful, the slightest mishap can lead to unwanted casualties. Worst case scenario: you might get trapped in the dream until the person you’re feeding off of wakes up. 
But you can trust your worrisome nature to keep that from happening. The only instance you’d ever get trapped in someone else’s dream is if you lose touch with your own existence within it. That’s why you tend to limit the degree of pleasure you feel in the dreamscape during your feedings. Orgasms are one of the many things that make people, succubi included, lose their grip on reality, so you make sure not to experience such a thing, no matter how tempting it could be at times. And while there are no explicit rules stating that your kind isn’t allowed to indulge in the desires of the flesh – let’s face it, you’re basically a sex demon – you’ve always been too afraid to lose yourself in something that isn’t even real.
You heave a deep sigh as you pull the covers up to your chest. It feels a bit humid lately, so you opted to wear a loose nightgown – one flimsy enough to hopefully tempt Zhongli in his dreams. In spite of the impeccable decorum he exhibits at work, surely he’s still just a man under all those layers of courteousness, right? Humans tend to be more unhinged during your feeding sessions (sans mister timid barista). If the Zhongli that regularly checks up on you at work would exercise more self-restraint, maybe he won’t be as gentlemanly once you hijack his dreams.
The plan is set in stone. Fall asleep, make your way into Zhongli’s head, have sex with him, and make a run for it. You’ve outlined the same plan of action during your previous feedings, so this shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
Still, a small part of you still feels the bite of guilt for intruding on your boss’ peaceful night like this. In what little time he’s spent at Wangsheng Corporation, you can already call him the best superior you’ve ever had, and choosing him as your sacrificial lamb makes it seem as if you have no sense of indebtedness to him. But at the end of the day, you’re just a baser creature with needs to tend to or else you can’t move forward as a fully functioning member of society. 
Surprisingly, you doze off much quicker than usual. This must be from the fatigue you accumulated over the past week. Well, that’s what you get for not feeding the moment you started to feel something was off. Either way, you’re en-route to your boss’ subconscious and you’re going to feel much better right after the trip.
The in-between that connects your dream to Zhongli’s looks just like everyone else’s – a dark, narrow corridor that opens up to a light at the end. You traverse the familiar path with bare feet, not so much in a rush despite how hungry you are. Whether it’s your hesitation to use your boss like this holding you back or something else entirely, you’re not very sure. But once you finally step into the light, you close your eyes and hold your breath.
When you come to, you find yourself inside a wide cavern – making your face scrunch up in confusion once your mind processes your surroundings. You expected to appear in a bedroom in his apartment, maybe. But as you glance around the barely illuminated cave, you realize that your timing is incredibly off since Zhongli must have been having a weird dream. It’s happened once before when the person you were supposed to feed on dreamt of living inside the latest superhero movie he saw. Maybe Zhongli watched a strange documentary before heading to bed. That totally sounds like something he’d do.
You decide to have a closer look, noticing that the only sources of light inside are the stone torches perched on the sides of the cavern. Your curiosity gets the better of you when you attempt to approach the flames. But that plan is immediately thwarted once you accidentally step on something solid underfoot. It breaks underneath your weight – the sound echoing deeper into the cave. 
You can’t feel any sort of breeze inside, which cements your assumption that the corridor leads to a dead end. Something tells you that you’ll cross paths with another soul if you press forward, but your instincts, however flimsy they might be inside a dream, insist that you go back. To just forget about trying to feed today and just try again tomorrow. Maybe Zhongli wouldn’t be dreaming about weird tunnels by then. None of this is real, but the dread that’s slowly festering in the pit of your stomach is too apparent to ignore.
But it’s as if your body isn’t your own at the moment. Instead of heeding your own sense of danger, your feet carry you further into the darkness – making your imaginary heart pound with both anticipation and fear in equal measure. 
Your hunch is proven right when you spot a lone figure at the end of the cavern – observing you from afar where he’s seated rather comfortably. He has one elbow perched on the armrest of his seat, the side of his face resting atop a closed fist. You’re unable to recognize who he is at first, but once you’ve crossed the threshold of the man’s vicinity, you feel a pang of surprise surge through your veins.
“Mister Zhongli...?” 
No matter how closely you looked, he's the spitting image of your boss. However, it dawns on you half a second later that he is not the kind-hearted man you've been working with for the past month. This one sits atop a throne of jagged rock, golden antlers sprouting beneath his hood as eyes of a deeper shade glower on with disdain. 
“I do not remember giving you permission to speak,” he says, voice reminding you of untamed tremors deep within the earth – resonating with every word. “You best know your place before I'm forced to remind you of it.”
Back in your bedroom, you awake with a start.
Your heart threatens to bust out of your own rib cage with how hard it pounds against it – as if it’s barely catching up to what you just witnessed and heard. You’ve never once pulled yourself out of a dream so quickly, but there’s just something about that version of Zhongli that sets off every code-red alarm inside your head. That isn’t someone you’re going to easily seduce with a see-through nightgown and a bat of your eyelashes. In fact, that man (was he even human?!) looked like he could kill you if he wanted. 
“What the fuck?” you mutter, throwing the covers off yourself as you watch your hands tremble in your lap. “Who the hell was that…?”
You don’t have the slightest clue why you’re so shaken up. You’ve seen weirder dreamscapes in the past, but for some reason, when you stepped inside Zhongli’s, everything looked so life-like. As if you were actually transported to a real location in this world. If you actively tried to recall the details, you could’ve sworn you felt the gravel on your feet and caught the archaic scent of stone in the air. But what could a strange-looking Zhongli be doing inside such a place? You knew better than to assume there was a rhyme and reason behind a person’s dreams, but –
The sound of your ringtone going off nearly scares the living daylights out of you before you cast a frantic stare at the nightstand. There, your phone vibrates in time with the obnoxious noise, and you force yourself to get a grip. It’s over. You managed to escape whatever harrowing fate you could have ended up with had you stayed in Zhongli’s dream for even a second longer. There’s no use mulling over it now, is there?
Without checking who was insane enough to call you at this hour, you speak. “H-Hello?” 
“Hello. I do have the right number, yes?”
It takes you a moment for your mind to register the voice at the end of the line – that smooth baritone that you’ll never get tired of hearing. Of course Zhongli’s going to ring you up out of nowhere after that. 
If it were any other day, you would have swooned at the notion of your superior calling you so late, but this seems a bit too coincidental for comfort. The recurring joke that Zhongli can be a little bit of an airhead has been going around your department for a few weeks now, but sometimes you forget that he can still be as sharp as a whip. Could he have sensed something amiss from the dream you gave him? How did he even get your number?
“Sir,” you greet him as evenly as you can. “Is there something wrong?”
Zhongli is silent for a moment, as if deliberating the words. “Hmm… Nothing in particular. My apologies for disturbing you beyond work hours, but I feel like I had something to tell you but regrettably forgot.”
You swallow the lump in your throat, shifting on top of your bed as you swing your legs over the edge. “Well, if it’s about the report you assigned, I won’t be able to give you the numbers until the end of the week, sir.”
“You’re mistaken. My inquiry isn’t about work,” he tells you, chuckling in a way that makes you blush for some reason. “It’s something a bit personal…yet I can’t seem to put my finger on it.”
“...Is it important enough that you couldn’t wait until tomorrow to discuss it?”
Alright, maybe you spoke a little out of line there. He’s your superior, yes, but your mind is still a bit frazzled from your earlier encounter in the dream. Zhongli certainly sounds like someone that just woke up, and while you like to entertain the idea that you’re the first person he thought about the moment his eyes opened, it’s not enough to dispel your unease. 
“Forgive me. Calling you at this hour does seem out of turn –” It is out of turn. “– but I had quite the odd dream. I can’t remember what exactly took place anymore, but I do remember you being in it.”
Calm down. He doesn’t remember the details – not that he had a lot to remember anyways. You could have sworn you only lasted two minutes in his head before scampering back to your own body because that’s how terrified you were. What’s even there to recall about it?
“I see,” you play along. “Maybe you were dreaming about work like usual. You do seem a bit more dedicated to your job than most.”
Zhongli breathes out another laugh that makes your insides tingle. Why does he sound infinitely sexier fresh out of slumber? “You really think that?” 
“Wouldn’t dream of anyone who does your job better than you do, sir.”
You wonder, at the last minute, if you said the right thing. But Zhongli lets out a satisfied hum from the other line, coupled with the sound of fabric rustling in the background. You try not to picture what he must look like right now – disheveled hair, unkempt sheets, drowsy eyes – but the image makes its way to your head regardless. The Zhongli you’re speaking to is already so different from the man you met in his dreams, and you can’t even see him right now. 
“I suppose I’ve taken up enough of your precious time,” he murmurs, sounding more and more apologetic by the minute. “Thank you for answering my call, regardless of what little value our conversation tonight harbored. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office, hopefully when I’m in a better state of mind.”
Better state of mind, he says. So Zhongli was affected by that dream, too…
But that’s something you can definitely think about later.
“Anytime, sir,” you reply. “Good night.”
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“You’re looking worse and worse each day, you know that?”
This time, the person who bothers you at your cubicle is none other than your superior, Director Hu Tao. Though, even if she holds the highest position in the Wangsheng chain-of-command, she’s a bit too free-spirited to call a proper boss. 
She watches you slave away behind your laptop with folded arms, not looking the least bit amused. Though she wasn’t really meant to know, the director is one of the few people – more like, the only person – who’s aware of what you are and what you do to survive. It’s probably because Hu Tao comes from a family with deeper connections to all things supernatural, and thankfully, she’s more understanding of your predicament than you’d otherwise expect. 
In fact, she was kind enough to let you keep your job so long as you don’t let your…special needs affect your work. But for all of Hu Tao’s usual antics in the office, you know there’s no escaping her when she gets serious about something.
Especially when she’s nagging you about feeding intervals.
“When’s the last time, hm?” she asks, poking your cheek. “Aiya, you’ve lost the flab on your face. Come on, how am I supposed to pinch them now?” 
“About a month ago,” you grumble as you revise an important email for the fifth time today. “Director, shouldn’t you be in your office? I heard from Ganyu that you’ve been passing your work onto Mister Zhongli.”
“Pah, the consultant can deal with all the trifling matters in my stead.” Hu Tao shrugs. “Besides, he’s the one who started advocating for better employee conditions in this dump, right? I’m just making sure my subordinates are healthy and happy in the workplace~”
Speaking of Zhongli, it’s been a while since you saw him around. The last time you heard his voice was the night he called you out of nowhere – the same night you hijacked his dreams. Now, it’s already the end of the week and you’re yet to meet with Zhongli despite the deadline he gave you days prior. 
“I can hook you up with a bunch of guys I know,” Hu Tao suggests, unceremoniously swinging herself on top of your desk. “All you have to do is get inside their heads and do the magic, right? Hmm… If that’s the case, why don’t you just pick a random celebrity or something?”
“It doesn’t work that way, director,” you sigh. “If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be having this problem every month.” 
“Ehh, you’re so choosy.” She pouts. “If sharing a dream with strangers doesn’t work, why don’t you just come after them in real life? Nothing beats the real thing, right?”
You’re mildly aware of how loudly Hu Tao started to mouth off about your…predicament, but fortunately it was the middle of lunch break, and none of your desk neighbors were present to overhear. Pushing your chair from beneath the desk, you breathe in deep as you consider the director’s words. 
In hindsight, she was right. You know a bunch of succubi and incubi who copulate with humans nearly everyday – more because they’re weird sex addicts than them trying to last themselves to the next day. But you were drawing blanks as to how you’re going to explain to Hu Tao that the creatures she might have heard about have sex to enjoy it; you have sex to survive. The act itself still makes you squirm, so even if you have attempted to harvest energy in real life, you’d rather steer clear of resorting to that if you could still do the same thing in an unsuspecting man’s dreams.
But now, you aren’t even able to squeeze the tiniest ounce of sexual energy from your usual method. Hence, the problem.
“I’ll think about it,” you half-promise, stretching your limbs with a quiet sigh. “Oh, and if you see Mister Zhongli anywhere, could you tell him I’m done with my report? I was going to ask when he’d like to see it, but I haven’t seen him around lately.”
“Hm? Oh, right. I asked that guy to secure a deal with a Snezhnayan diplomat who’s visiting Liyue over the season,” Hu Tao tells you before hopping back to the floor. “Well, hope you get some sustenance soon, little devil. Wouldn’t want to find you all shrivelled up from sex deprivation one day.”
“Director, please…”
“Hahaha! Just teasing~”
Hu Tao hums a lively tune once she scampers away, and you’re left staring at the blinking cursor on your screen. The email you were drafting is supposed to be sent to the PR officer of the company you’re trying to scout with your report-slash-proposal attached as an extra file. But you can’t send it in without Zhongli’s green light. What’s worse is that it’s starting to get busy in the office at this time. The end of the year is the most hectic, and you’re not sure if you’re ever going to get used to the hustle and bustle that comes with it. It would make sense why Zhongli is suddenly hard to catch.
And your feeding shortage just had to coincide with all of this.
You pull out a hand mirror from your bag, inspecting the way your face looks. Eyebags and chapped lips can easily be concealed with makeup but it’s more difficult to mask the way you’re abnormally losing weight. Even Hu Tao was able to notice it right away. If only eating human food actually contributed to your body mass…
“Tonight for sure,” you mutter – knowing damn well that your words are only worth half a promise.
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In all honesty, you don’t put much thought into the exact time of your feedings. You just lay in bed, get into the minds of your targets, and hope both of you fell asleep at the same time. It’s no different on your second attempt at harvesting energy from Zhongli.
You don’t call him, don’t text him. You don’t even bother trying to get some inside information about his sleeping habits from Ganyu. So when you attempt to just wing it one more time, you’re a little surprised to find yourself transported into the dreamscape – a wave of relief washing over you when you realize you’re not inside a cave anymore. 
You’re seated at the side of a river surrounded by ruins as far as the eye can see. The sound of flowing water fills your ears, a sound you almost find calming. Someone calls a name that doesn't belong to you, but your body responds to it either way when you turn your head around curiously. 
Zhongli stands in front of you, carrying a basket of sunsettias. He doesn’t look as intimidating as the first time you saw him in his dreams, but he’s donned with the same hooded robe, and the same gold-tipped antlers. The cruelty imbued in his gaze in that cavern has long gone – replaced with quiet sincerity that’s reminiscent of the one he exudes in the office. You feel your shoulders relax at the sight of him, but… 
Something doesn’t feel right.
He folds his legs at your side, and when he speaks, you hear nothing but a garbled, faraway noise. But despite not understanding a single word he says, you let out the occasional laugh, sometimes nodding along to Zhongli’s words before biting into one of the fruits he foraged. The wind whistles through the reeds in the overrun marsh, and all you can do is admire your companion’s autumn vesper eyes as you partake in a conversation only he understands. 
But when you suddenly inch closer to him – caressing his face with a hand that isn’t your own – that’s when you finally realize what was amiss.
“Rex,” the woman whose body you hijacked murmurs fondly, the sleeves of her dress billowing in the breeze. “You should give yourself more credit. The faith of the people has always been well-founded.”
Zhongli gazes at you (at her) with wide eyes before the look melts into a fit of chuckles. His lips move in response to what the woman said and, still, you don’t catch any of it. But when your eyes drift to where his strong arms peeked from the holes of his robe, you’re surprised to see his hands shining like molten amber in the waning light. Golden veins can be seen jutting across his forearms, eventually connecting to the odd patterns depicted on his bicep. The longer you stare, the more you question why your boss made himself look so godly in his dreams. As humble as he is, he does look highly of himself after all.
Turns out, you’re not the only one who was ogling Zhongli in the most inopportune moment. It seems like the woman you’re possessing(?) also treated herself to some eye candy the same time you did, and now you can feel your face heat up with embarrassment when he catches you staring. 
You expect him to laugh it off like usual. Your boss gets thrown compliments everyday since he started working at Wangsheng – compliments that never seem to do him enough justice. But he takes them all in stride before resuming the conversation like nothing happened. This Zhongli does none of that.
One of his strange, golden hands seizes your wrist tightly – your bashfulness suddenly morphing into confusion. Zhongli’s mouth twitches into something akin to a smile as he presses forward, forcing you to lean back to introduce as much space between you as possible. You can feel his breath fan against your face – cor lapis eyes glowing with desire – and you’re too stunned to retaliate. His other hand forces itself against the ground next to your hip, caging you in the heat of his embrace. Zhongli speaks again, and you’re starting to feel annoyed with the fact that you can’t make sense of what he’s even saying. But you can’t exactly relish in the feeling much because your body is reaching a fever pitch that’s making your head spin.
This is what you came here to do, isn’t it? Sure, you’re not really the person he’s seeing right now, but anything to get the deed done, right? All you had to do was suck out the sexual energy emanating from the god of a man that’s about to ravish you out in the open. Easy as pie.
His mouth latches onto yours in a way that’s almost familiar – which tells you that this isn’t the first time that Zhongli and this woman met each other so intimately. You respond in kind, letting your borrowed body take the reins as you feel him nudging apart the lapels of your dress, exposing supple breasts to the humid air. A full shudder runs across your skin when he growls against your lips, one arm curling around your waist before Zhongli possessively pulls you to his chest. 
Mine. 
You don’t hear his voice, but you feel the intent resonate all the way to your core as he practically tears off your clothes. Zhongli rests you atop the grass with little care for possible on-lookers, rolling his hips against yours as he decorates your neck with lovebites. Your fingers rake through his long, dark tresses – imprinting the image in your head for years to come. Your boss Zhongli always ties his hair with a jewel-encrusted band, so this version is definitely one for the books. 
I should’ve done this sooner, you think to yourself – whimpering when you feel the ridge of his cock straining against your middle. Much sooner… 
The rest of the details are lost in the muddled haze of your thoughts. You don’t remember if Zhongli even prepared you for what’s to come – all you know is the feel of his length prodding your slickened entrance. His grip on your body never falters even as the tip of his cock glides teasingly across your slit. You desperately move your hips closer, begging for the friction he’s holding over your head like a prize. But then, you meet his deep, amber gaze and for a moment, his eyes seem to soften in the midst of his lustful display.
When he kisses you again, your heart – this woman’s heart – comes alive. You can feel how much love she harbors, how she aches for him despite the fact that Zhongli’s hands roam around her body with the intent to leave no inch of skin untouched. 
I love you. That’s the only thought that echoes in your mind when he finally takes you – here, by the riverbank where you were the only two people in the world. These emotions aren’t your own, but you feel a surge so intense that you gasp aloud when Zhongli presses himself into you deep enough to make your vision blur. It all feels so real that you don’t even notice it when you naturally absorb the energy you’re meant to take in the first place. 
You’re not sure how it’s supposed to work in this situation, given that the body you’re using isn’t even yours. But you practically feel how Zhongli’s libido indirectly rejuvenates your spirits. Despite the fact that you’re being pounded in the middle of nowhere, you feel more refreshed – mind clearer as opposed to the jumbled mess it’s been over the past week. You never actually realize how your hunger can drive you into so much lethargy until you’re finally given the clarity of your sated instincts. 
“I don’t care for the humans like you do.”
You startle when you finally hear Zhongli’s familiar voice – hoarse with need, but still the same one you’ve come to admire. His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts his hips relentlessly, with a desperation you can almost see on his face. The woman lets out a sigh before she caresses his face with a gentle hand, thumb gently sweeping across the cut of his cheekbone. 
“You will,” she murmurs. “You’re their god, Rex. Their archon. You might not have any love for them now, but in time, you’ll understand.”
Her reply seems to irritate him. You watch as those golden eyes flash yellow with rage, but Zhongli is quick to manage the split-second shift in his emotions. Instead of lashing out, he buries his face into your neck, murmuring so softly, you almost didn’t catch the words.
“You’re the only one I’ll truly care for,” he says, fingers raking through your hair as he stills – filling you with the white hot rush of his release.
“I hope you know that will never change, Guizhong.”
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There are two things that you end up mulling over when you finally get back to your own body. The first is the fact that Zhongli has way too hyperactive an imagination. About ninety-five percent of your feedings take place in your targets’ bedrooms, so having sex in the middle of a field is quite the new experience for you. The second is how your boss might actually have a girlfriend and you just…gleaned your monthly sustenance from him. Just like that. 
Your latter realization took you the fuck out. The moment you woke up, you marched into your kitchen, popped open whatever cans of beer you had inside the refrigerator, and decided to contemplate your actions for a long time. You typically don’t think about whether or not the person you’re feeding on has a significant other because…you’re not exactly committing adultery if it only takes place in their dreams, right? It isn’t supposed to be a big deal unless they try to make a move on you in real life. But thinking about how you unknowingly trespassed on an ultra hidden fantasy that Zhongli must’ve been having about his girlfriend introduces a spectrum of emotions that you’re too tired to sort out. Embarrassment, regret, shame. Those are just some of the things you’re feeling right now, and hopefully a six-pack is going to be enough to drown your not-so sorrows.
…On the bright side, at least you don’t feel like shit anymore. As you finish your third can of beer tonight, you make the effort to take a look at yourself in the mirror. The color in your cheeks has returned, as well as the so-called flab that Hu Tao misses so much. Those dark circles beneath your eyes have gone too, and admittedly, you haven’t seen your skin glow so much since your last successful feeding two months prior. 
But even if this is a cause for celebration – because finally, you won’t have to deal with those nasty hunger pangs again for at least another month – you can’t find it in you to be pleased with your results. 
You’re still a bit…conflicted with what you saw in Zhongli’s dream. You assumed it was just some weird fictional fantasy of his, but you’ve been inside the dreams of other men often enough to know that your boss’ dreamscape is a lot different from the rest. You’re yet to put a finger on the rhyme and reason behind your logic, but the experience filled you with the kind of curiosity that’ll get you in trouble one of these days.
“No more prying into your boss’ private life,” you say, pointing at your reflection in the mirror with a frown. “You are not a homewrecker. Got that?”
Now that you’ve recovered from being “under the weather”, all that’s left is to get your work quota over with before the year ends. You’re practically brimming with ideas now that you’re finally in the right headspace to brainstorm about the project that Zhongli entrusted you with. As you pop open your fourth beer alongside your laptop, you’re quite horrified to see the mess of a proposal that you worked on during the onslaught of your physiological suffering. Dear gods, you’re never going to deprive yourself like that again. It’s a good thing you waited for Zhongli’s approval first or else, you might’ve made a fool out of yourself to your clients.
When you finally finish proofreading and making all the appropriate edits, you hop into the shower for a nice, hot bath. And when you crawl underneath the covers, the smooth glide of your sheets feels like heaven against your skin. But regardless of how comfortable you are in your own bed; how relaxed you feel for the first time in weeks, you can’t bring yourself to fall asleep as easily as you’d like. 
Every time you close your eyes, all you can see is a man with molten gold irises and branches sprouting from his rich brown hair. You can even remember the smidge of red decorating the fine line of his lashes if you recalled the dream vividly enough. But the moment you start thinking about how he spread you apart and had his way with you –
I’m fucked, you realize as you wrench your eyes open – staring at the ceiling as if it’ll show you even an ounce of sympathy. I am so fucked.
Little did you know that ‘fucked’ is the understatement of the century.
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“Ganyu, can I ask you something?”
The next day, you coincidentally find yourself sharing a table with Zhongli’s secretary during your lunch break. Ganyu looks up from the salad she’s been happily feasting on and flashes you a questioning look. “Of course. How can I help, miss?”
You pause for a while – deliberating whether it’s even worth looking into at the last minute – but you’ve already bothered Ganyu so… 
“Do you know a woman named Guizhong?”
You’re purposely avoiding her gaze when you bring up the question, casually sticking your fork into the food you ordered at the office cafeteria. But when you notice how Ganyu fell silent for too long, you flick your gaze back to her in the most casual way you can manage. To your surprise, she’s staring at you like you just insulted your family.
“H-How did you hear of that name?”
Brows raised, you offer a nonchalant shrug. “Hmm… I was looking through some old company records and found that name listed in the contacts. I just thought you might know who she is.”
You’re not even sure Ganyu is even going to take the bait for that white lie. There is absolutely no one who knows Wangsheng’s documents better than she does. This woman used to work under the Liyue Qixing, so it’s only natural for her to be meticulous in every aspect of her duties. But instead of laying suspicion on you like you expected her to do, Ganyu seemingly heaves a relieved sigh. 
“Well, yes. Miss Guizhong was one of the company’s contacts, but…” She bites her lip, fingers drumming nervously on her thigh. “Please refrain from mentioning that name to Mister Zhongli. As for the reason, it’s…quite complicated. I hope you understand why I can’t disclose any further, miss.”
…So Guizhong is a real person. A real person that Zhongli cares about deeply. But from the way Ganyu responded to your question, things might’ve gone awry between them at some point. 
Why do you feel…relieved all of a sudden? 
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” you promise – this time, you mean it. “I was just a bit curious.”
The secretary nods. “Mister Zhongli should be coming back today as scheduled. I’ve already gone over your proposal like you asked, and I don’t see any flaws in your plans, miss. I’m certain he’ll approve of it.”
Way to shift the topic of conversation. You might’ve applauded her for how smoothly she made that transition, but Ganyu just indirectly reminded you to keep your head in place. There’s still work to do, and you shouldn’t spend what little time you have fretting about your boss’ not-girlfriend. 
“Copy that,” you tell her, finishing the rest of your food with a newfound resolve.
When Zhongli finally arrives back at the office, you make sure to act like you usually do – timid yet just a touch daring when needed. You presented your proposal to Zhongli and the board of directors, since your boss insisted that they’re entitled to study its contents last minute. The idea of having an on-the-spot address makes you queasier than the moments leading up to your monthly feeding. But the entire time, the expectant stares of your other superiors didn’t faze you as much. All you can really focus on, aside from the important points you’ve outlined, are the vibrant gold of Zhongli’s eyes – peering from the nearest seat in the front in silent observation.
He looks so composed, like a slab of unmovable stone. You find it quite difficult to believe that your boss and the man who shows up in his dreams – the one with unruly hair and golden ichor horns – are the same person.
Once you’re finished speaking, the board begins to ask questions one by one – clarifying some things they wanted you to expound on. Thankfully, you’ve gone over your report multiple times before coming into the office this morning. Whatever inquiry they could throw at you, you justified with answers based on the sufficient data you’ve gathered over the past two weeks. You have to admit that being on the receiving end of their impressed stares is doing things to your ego, but what’s important is that your proposal has been pretty much approved. Nothing beats a sense of accomplishment, after all.
Zhongli is kind enough to escort you back to your cubicle, but you insist on dropping by the pantry first for a much-needed coffee break. You tell him that it’s alright if he doesn’t stick around if he has other matters to attend to, but it seems that your boss is going to take his time giving you his brunt of the praise.
“You did well. Far exceeded my expectations, even.” He smiles so radiantly that you can almost feel your chest twist with an unfamiliar feeling. “My apologies for suddenly disappearing all of a sudden. I was planning to help you work out the necessary details for this, but something else came up at the last minute. Though I know this all sounds like me making up petty reasons for my absence.”
You shake your head, taking a sip on your cup of instant coffee. “Not at all! Director Hu told me about your dealings with a Snezhnayan diplomat, so I figured that I needed to step up one way or another.”
Zhongli’s expression morphs into something unreadable before he reaches for one of the paper cups stashed away – filling it with cold water from the dispenser. “Is that what she’s told you all?” he sighs, taking a long gulp of his drink before setting the cup down on the table. “That child… I’m aware she has her way of running things in this company, but she needn’t lie about my whereabouts.”
…Lie? Wait, what exactly did Hu Tao –
“Since I forced you to spearhead such an important project alone, I might as well let you in on the truth,” he laughs softly, lips pressed into a small smile. “Would that make for sufficient compensation?”
You swallow the lump in your throat, avoiding the intensity of his gaze. “Um, you don’t have to if it’s a touchy subject, sir. I respect that we all have lives outside of work.”
“I insist,” Zhongli says, leaning against the wall without breaking eye contact. “It’s also a…means for me to ‘let out some steam’, as the director might’ve put it. But I won’t divulge anything you don’t wish to hear, of course.”
You take a moment to mull over his words. Is he saying that he wants to open up to you or something? Well…
“I don’t mind,” you reply, feeling the skin of your fingertips buzz underneath the heat of your cup. Anticipation –  that’s what you’re feeling. “You can tell me anything, sir. And I swear upon my end-of-year bonus that I won’t share it to a single soul.”
Your boss flashes you another smile, shaking his head in amusement. “I’m grateful for your promise of confidentiality. You truly are a worthwhile companion.”
“...As for the real reason behind my absence, no I did not meet with a non-existent envoy from Snezhnaya. I made a three-day trip to Guili Plains.” Zhongli speaks each word carefully, as if not wanting you to miss a beat. “You and the rest of the department aren’t familiar with such a tradition that I make sure to uphold every year, since I was just newly transferred. Ganyu, however, has known me long enough to know that I pay the cemetery there a visit during this season if time permits it.”
The break room is quiet, save for the ever-present hum of the water dispenser. You don’t know why, but there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that tells you you’re not going to like what he’s going to say next.
“When I was still pursuing my Bachelor’s, I had this…friend,” he continues, eyes trailing up to the ceiling as if reminiscing about a better time in his life. “A friend that I held closer to my heart than anyone else. We were supposed to build a company that could change the world together – a pipe dream that youths often pour their souls into when they think they can do anything and everything they desire.
“But one day, that friend fell ill all of a sudden. We both thought it was just a mild sickness, nothing so severe that we should fret about it.” He sighs, and you can see how his mild-mannered demeanor makes way for the sorrow that roots itself on his face. You’ve never seen Zhongli look so…downcast before. It makes you want to reach out and pull him into an embrace, but you know better than to overstep your boundaries. “I’m sure you know where this leads. Turns out, the disease wasn’t just an ordinary coughing fit. She was diagnosed with lung cancer and died of it faster than I could even complete my final semester in college.” 
“I-I’m sorry,” you blurt out all of a sudden – the shock on your face surfacing too suddenly for you to hide. “Oh, gods. You didn’t have to tell me this if it pains you to remember sir –”
“None of that,” Zhongli interjects, waving a hand in dismissal. “I chose to tell you this tale, didn’t I? Insisted, even. So you don’t need to worry about my grief, as this is something that I’ve long come to terms with.” 
Holy shit. Now you feel twice as terrible for feeling relieved that things between him and Guizhong have gone south. It’s all because she was dead. Great, now the fates are probably going to turn you into a lizard in your next life just to call it quits or something. But you don’t really have much room for those self-deprecating thoughts after everything Zhongli just told you.
“Guili Plains is quite far from here,” you comment, choosing your words carefully. “Did she live there? 
Zhongli hums. “Yes and no. The two of us lived together here in Liyue Harbor while we completed our studies, but she grew up in Guili. They’re no longer growing there today, but she used to tell me about how much she loved the glaze lilies that bloomed outside of her childhood home.”
…A ‘friend’ he used to live with. A ‘friend’ he held closer to his heart than anyone else. If there are awards for being the worst at masking hidden details, Zhongli is definitely raking everything in. Though you suppose now’s not the time to be nitpicking about your boss’ lack of subtlety. 
“How long has it been?” you ask. “If…you don’t mind me asking.”
“I think we’re both past the point of minding,” he chuckles, despite everything, and you can hardly believe it. “But…it’s been six years since she passed.”
Six years, and he still dreams of her.
You nod slowly before finishing the rest of your coffee – now cold with how long you took to drink it. 
“Thank you for sharing all this to me, sir. I–I…don’t know what to say,” you admit. 
“Nor do I expect you to say anything at all,” he tells you. “Just having an ear to listen to my…troubles is worth more than all the mora in this company combined. It’s quite rare for me to find anyone willing to hear me out.”
You wonder if it’s because of Zhongli’s picture perfect image that no one would stop to think that he experiences the same things everyone does. He grieves. He loves. He even lays himself vulnerable like this. Hell, you wouldn’t even dare to imagine Zhongli being anything but the unflawed superior everyone knows and adores if he never spoke about this at all. 
But he did. He trusted you enough to share a part of himself that he doesn’t just let anyone else know about. Whether it was just to repay your so-called stellar performance or something else, you’re grateful for his faith in you either way.
All of a sudden, you stride closer to Zhongli – the sound of you bumping against the side of the table at your urgency surprising him a bit. Before you can slip-up any further, you hold out your hand as you cast him a determined stare. 
“I’ll be looking forward to working on this project with you.”
Zhongli is at a loss for words for a while, those deep amber eyes alternating between your face and your outstretched hand. You wonder if he thinks you’re doing some sort of alien gesture. But in the end, your worries are dispelled the moment he shakes it gingerly.
“I feel the exact same way,” Zhongli says – in a much brighter tone now that the storm has passed. 
You just hope it will be a while before the clouds roll overhead once more.
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The days pass by before you know it.
Along with the end of the year comes the beginning of your newest project. Zhongli was kind enough to lay all the groundwork in your stead, and all you had to do was secure some due partnerships with other companies residing in Yujing Terrace. With just a bit more convincing, you might even get the Liyue Qixing to become one of the official sponsors for the event, especially with someone like Ganyu by your side. Rumor has it that she’s one of Lady Ningguang’s favorite secretaries, until Zhongli whisked her away. You just prayed that she won’t take your boss’ past history of secretary-nabbing personally. 
Your reputation has slowly picked up in your department as well. For the past two years, you were always careful about the connections you made because even if Hu Tao is privy to your unique constitution, you’ll be forced to switch locations if someone catches wind that you’re a succubus. You’re certain that the director could pull a few strings if something like that ever happened, but you never really liked relying on others too much – more so making them share your burdens.
At least, that’s how things were before Zhongli entrusted you with such an important task.
“There’s a drinking party somewhere at Chihu Rock – one of the newbies is treating,” Zhang, the desk neighbor you used to hate so much, informs you as he stuffs his laptop into his backpack. “The girls from accounting asked me to invite you, if you’re wondering.”
You cast him a surprised stare while you tidy up your own workspace, sparing a quiet laugh once you get ahold of yourself. “You guys aren’t bullying the new employees into footing the bill, are you?”
“Hey, if this is how they want to get in their seniors’ good graces, who am I to say no?” He shrugs, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “So, you coming or not?”
Now that you think about it, you don’t particularly have anything else to get done for this week. All the necessary preparations for the first leg of the event are in place, and your team members assured that they’ll give you a ring once something comes up. 
“Sure thing,” you tell Zhang with a smile. “There better be finger food.”
Company drinking parties aren’t as bad as you thought. They’re not mixers in disguise, like all the manga you’ve illegally downloaded off Inazuman websites suggested. You got to know your close colleagues, and some other people in departments that rarely come into contact with yours. The alcohol isn’t half bad either, especially when the lively newcomer Zhang told you about is going to make good on his promise. You’re not so stuck-up that you’ll deny free food and drinks once they’re offered.
To your dismay, you still aren’t used to drinking with a lot of people as company. Normally, you just grab a few packs of beer from the supermarket before consuming them in your lonesome at home. You realize a little too late that if you’re drinking out, you really shouldn’t be chugging glass after glass as if you’re the only person enjoying the liquor out here. 
After a few more pints, some of your co-workers have started to tap out – making you pout at them, red-faced and more pissy than usual. “What? You guys are going? And here I thought these drinking parties lasted until morning.”
Zhang shakes his head at your side, clinking his glass with yours before downing his drink. “Right? These guys have been hanging out with us for months, but they act like they can’t handle drinking on a work night.”
“Hmph, we all know why you’re insistent on staying behind tonight, Zhang,” one of the girls from accounting – Chen? Was that her name? – says, rolling her eyes as she hoists her handbag over her shoulder. “Just…take care of her, alright? Zhongli’s going to kick your ass if something happens.”
You’re still feeling a bit woozy from the beer, so you can only crane your head in confusion. What did she mean by take care of you? You can take care of yourself, thank you very –
“I will, I will,” Zhang chuckles, and suddenly, you feel a heavy arm drape itself across your shoulders – making you wrinkle your nose. “I never expected her to drink so much, but it’s a good thing that I’m here.” 
“I doubt that,” Chen scoffs. “Oh, well. See you guys tomorrow!”
Once the others make their leave, that’s when you start mumbling under your breath “Ugh. The first time I actually come along to these kinds of things and the people who invited me don’t even last until the end,” you complain, pressing your face against the wooden table in front of you. “Where’s the kid that said he was going to pay for everything? It’s just the two of us left…”
Zhang rubs your back in a way that isn’t really soothing the way your skin burns from the alcohol, but you’re a bit too intoxicated to tell him off. “Aww, don’t worry. Some of my pals helped the poor guy home, but he asked the bar to put everything on his tab before he passed out. So if you still want to have a go, I’m down.” 
You can feel something buzzing in your bag, but it’s probably just a text notification from your phone carrier. You’ve been receiving a lot of those lately. Maybe you should pay your bill soon. But your thoughts about phone bills are rudely interrupted by the feel of Zhang snaking an arm around your waist – pulling you upright as he steadies your shoulder with his free hand.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep here,” he says. “You’re going to feel like shit once you wake up from a drunk nap, you know.”
“Don’t care…” you mumble, eyelids drooping as you lose your grip on the handle of your glass. “‘M so sleepy. Can you get me a cab back home, Zhang…? Don’t think I can commute anymore.”
Zhang doesn’t respond right away, and you nearly doze off in that short bout of silence. But eventually, your desk neighbor helps you back to your feet and walks you out of the bar – exchanging farewells with the bartender on your way out.
The late evening breeze feels chilly against your legs, even through your stockings – yet that isn’t quite enough to make you snap out of your drowsiness. You end up leaning against Zhang for support as you wait for him to call a cab, all the while you screw your eyes shut – trying to stop your head from spinning. 
“You know… There’s a hotel nearby that we can just crash in for the night.”
You’re too far between consciousness and slumber to fully process what he just said. All you can do is press the side of your face against his shoulder as you attempt not to fall asleep on the spot. But, apparently, Zhang takes your lack of a response for confirmation – wrapping his arm around your shoulder as he leads you to the direction of the hotel. You don’t really think of it much, since the desire to sleep is the only thing weighing on your mind right now. You’re just glad someone’s patient enough to guide you as you stumble around the sidewalk. 
Suddenly, though, Zhang’s strides come to a halt. 
Your mind vaguely registers the sound of him speaking to someone else. Huh. You could’ve sworn the others have already left. But their conversation lasts a bit longer than you anticipated, and you force yourself to listen in. 
“...Thank you for watching out for her all this time. I’ll take it from here.”
This voice…? Is that –
“U-Uh, sure, sir,” you can hear Zhang sputter beside you before you feel him shift your weight onto something – no, someone else. “I don’t really know where she lives so –”
You don’t really hear the rest of what Zhang has to say because you’re distracted by the person who just joined the fray. His clothes feel thick underneath your touch, like tailored fabric made from the most exquisite material, and they carry a familiar scent that reminds you of incense – one with a unique spice, just a touch archaic. You might’ve been too drunk to tell at the time, but if you had more strength than you did, you would’ve pushed Zhang away because his touch alone already didn’t feel right. With this person, though? You’d gladly lay in his arms for days. 
The last memory you have that night is the sensation of being gently ushered into the passenger seat of an unfamiliar car. A soothing voice speaks to you constantly, as if trying to keep you awake. But the gentle lull of his words do little to aid that particular cause, and when he slides into the driver’s seat next to you, you’re already out like a light.
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“Is anything the matter?”
You blink in non-plus, feeling like you’ve just woken up from a dream despite the fact that you’re sitting in a vast field of flowers. Wait a moment. 
Glancing at your side, you see the Zhongli’s humanoid counterpart – those draconian eyes of his scanning your face to see if something was wrong. In his hands is a bundle of pale blue flowers, clutched tightly between his clawed fingers, and you feel your shoulders sag. The idea that you unknowingly stepped into his dreams again as Guizhong incites a rush of guilt that you have all the reason to feel right now.
You don’t even remember planning on feeding tonight. Sure, it’s been a while since the first time you collected energy from your boss, but you’re not particularly in need of a refill right now. How did you even end up here in the first place?
Thankfully, Guizhong does all the talking while you accustom yourself to your unplanned invasion. “I just never thought you’d humor my request. You were never that fond of the glaze lilies.”
“This is where I met you all those years ago,” he reminds you. “Why would I ever loathe the thing that brought us together, my love?”
Silence envelops the two of you for a sliver of a moment, and you catch the scent of the ephemeral flowers even in the filtered reality of Zhongli’s dream. Guizhong lets out a peal of gentle laughter as she picks one of the lilies that grew in abundance – examining the unassuming bloom rather fondly.
“These flowers take the memories of the land and transform them into an unforgettable fragrance,” she murmurs. “When the war is over, do you think they’ll still carry the scent of our union, Rex?”
…War? There’s a war?
But in the end, you never get to hear Zhongli’s answer nor the proper explanation behind what Guizhong just said. When you open your eyes, it’s to an unfamiliar room that makes you bolt upright – eyes frantically darting around the vicinity while you try to recall what happened before you fell asleep.
Drinking party. Zhang being all touchy feely. Being taken care of by someone else.
You try not to think about the awful taste that lingers in your mouth as you try to figure out whose house you’re currently crashing. This obviously isn’t yours because you can’t afford the imported rug that’s tucked underneath the queen-sized bed. However, when your gaze lands on the dark-wood nightstand, you see a couple of glaze lilies sitting in an expensive-looking vase.
The next thing your barely sober mind takes note of is the presence of another person on the bed right next to you. Anticipation coils in your gut as you turn around slowly, and when you see Zhongli sleeping soundly a respectable distance away, you can’t help the way your heart throbs at the sight. He looks a bit more like the man in his dreams like this – dark hair pooled messily across his pillows. And you also notice that he’s still in the dress shirt he often wears to work, further suggesting that he might’ve fallen asleep while watching over you. The idea is enough to make your face flush with shame.
You spot your bag placed on top of a table at the other side of the room, so you quietly slip out of his bed before retrieving your phone inside. How did Zhongli even know where you were? Was he aware that you were out drinking with your colleagues? A single glance at your lock screen is all the answer you need because there, you bear witness to several unanswered calls and text messages from your boss himself. 
From where you stood, you cast the man in question a longing stare. He was kind enough to take care of you when you obviously couldn’t do that for yourself – even going as far as to let you sleep on the same bed as him. Zhongli is quite the busy man. Busy enough that he always turns down any and all invitations for drinks, yet he showed up outside the bar earlier tonight and just…took you back home with him? You don’t see any signs that he might’ve tried to take advantage of your inebriated state either – not that you believed that Zhongli is capable of such a thing. He was a proper gentleman through and through.
But…good intentions aside, you’re still at a loss for answers when you recall the dream you shared with him just now. This is the first time you found yourself inside a dreamscape without meaning to, and you’re unsure of whether or not this is a cause for alarm. What’s more is that his dreams always seem to take place in a world that’s wholly unfamiliar to you – a place where you take the form of his past lover without any real reason behind it.
Not wanting to overstay your welcome, you quickly type in a text message to Zhongli – thanking him for everything he’s done, along with an apology that you’ll probably repeat once you see him again in the office. Although you’re more conscious of his aberrant dreams than you imposing on his kindness. 
You tell yourself to just leave whatever you saw, whatever you heard there in his mind. There’s no reason for you to keep nosing in. You already got your fill, right? And you never feed on the same person twice – never.  
You just hope you can live by that personal rule of yours for as long as you can.
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News flash: you cave to your pesky, curious tendencies not two days since the incident.
Zhongli makes it terribly easy for you, too. Every night, by eleven P.M., your boss is already sound asleep – providing you with ample time to travel in-between dreams before reaching the one that perpetually occurs inside his head. 
The more you make these timely visits, the more you learn about the life that Zhongli – no, Rex Lapis – lives in this world. He’s someone that mortals call the God of Contracts. Someone who shows no mercy to anyone who dares break any sort of agreement that they willingly set in stone. He and Guizhong live in an era where the gods fight for the title of archon – a concept that you’re still having some trouble wrapping your head around. But in the most fundamental sense, Rex is someone equally respected and feared, and you can’t blame others for feeling that way.
When he speaks to people that aren’t Guizhong, he dons a stone-cold visage that still makes your blood run cold despite how many times you’ve seen it. It wasn’t a bluff when he said he didn’t care for the humans he and his lover watched over. All he wanted was to give Guizhong a place to live comfortably – and if that meant felling other gods just to attain that goal, he’ll gladly bloody his hands for it. 
But Guizhong, the God of Dust, was never that fond of Rex’s violent ways of doing things. 
She reminds him that humans are just as small and fragile as dust. They do not know when they’re bound to lose their lives to disaster or strife, and so they live in fear. Because they live in fear, they try so hard to be much more than the small, fragile creatures that the gods have reduced them to. Guizhong is a god who’s more human than divine, and you suppose that’s something that Rex is yet to fully understand.
These are only some of the things you learned during your visits, and you can’t help but tune into every scenario that unfolds. Like a television series you can’t quite get enough of. However, you’re careful not to let the curious tale of Zhongli’s dreams hinder you in your waking life. 
Fortunately, he doesn’t seem to remember any of the things that take place in his dreams. Whenever you run into him at work, Zhongli simply greets you with that trademark smile of his before discussing business as usual. No telltale signs of any sort of disturbance rooted from his slumber. 
At the office, you notice that you’ve become closer beyond measure as well – both as colleagues and, you daresay, friends. Along with the team you’re heading for the project, your boss is one of your constant support systems during such a hectic time in your career. 
Not only does he serve as something similar to your advisor, but he also keeps you company whenever you need to unwind.
During one of your late dinners, you share a glass of wine in his company as he shares some embarrassing work stories over the years. Zhongli is about three years your senior, so it makes sense for him to have more tales to tell. Nonetheless, you enjoy every minute of it, and in the back of your mind, you wonder when he’ll take you out like this again.
But when Zhongli drives you back to your apartment that night, he abruptly grabs hold of your wrist as you open the door to the passenger seat. You shoot him a startled look, but your boss’ alluring gaze doesn’t waver. You want to ask him what’s the matter, but before you can even get a single word out, he’s already pulling you close enough for a kiss.
You can’t process what was happening fast enough – simply sitting there in shock as you feel your superior’s mouth move against yours. When Zhongli doesn’t get so much as a reaction from you though, he pulls away with a troubled look on his face. 
“I apologize. Really, I do,” Zhongli says. “Perhaps I’ve had too much –”
This time, your senses finally kickstart into motion as you throw your arms around his neck before pulling him in again. You return his kiss in earnest, even going as far as licking the swell of his bottom lip to show you that you’re more eager for his affections than he initially assumed. And when you feel his strong arms circle around your waist in the same, possessive way he held you in the first dream, you all but moan into his mouth.
You’re not sure how things led up to this point, exactly. It’s true that you and him have grown more familiar with each other since the project’s launch, but you never would’ve imagined doing this with Zhongli in real life. You thought you were content with having sampled the more sensual side of him in your dreams, but as it turns out, Hu Tao was right.
Nothing beats the real thing.
“What does this mean?” you whisper in-between gasps, laughing a bit as Zhongli chases after your lips. He lets out a disgruntled noise when you pull away, and you feel the urgency in his touch when his hand rests against your cheek.
“It means I fancy you very much,” he tells you bluntly. “Though I admit, this might be too sudden. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, or if you don’t wish to do these kinds of things with me. I just hope my admission doesn’t change our dynamic at work.”
…Is he being for real? Did Zhongli just assume that you didn’t feel the same way? 
“Everything happens all in due time,” you tell him with a smile, brushing away some of his bangs as you take the time to admire the man before you. “And who said I wasn’t at all interested, sir?”
Zhongli sighs, dipping his head closer to press a fleeting kiss on your forehead. The sensation sets your heart alight with glee, and you can’t help but lean closer to his touch.
“When it’s just the two of us, I’d prefer it if you called me by my first name,” he tells you as he presses another kiss to your cheek. “Would that be alright?”
“Of course,” you breathe – placing your hand over the one he’s using to cup your face. “I’d love that.”
At that moment, you don’t think about how it’s been tough for you to find yourself a boyfriend over the last few years. How starting a relationship like this with Zhongli is going to give you more problems than you bargained for. All that matters is the comforting warmth of his touch as the two of you bask in each other’s company in the privacy of his car. 
Nothing more, nothing less.
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Times where you attempt to contact people like yourself are few and far in between. You want little to do in the lifestyles of other succubi and incubi, but it’s a different case with Xingqiu.
You met him by chance in the most awkward way possible. One time, you decided that a college boy who once interned at Wangsheng was going to be your target of the month. But on the night you tried to harvest energy from him, someone else was already occupying the dream – doing the things you were supposed to do before you could even arrive.
Long story short, you ended up doing a little snooping around with your targets first before going in for the kill. You wouldn’t want to run into Xingqiu in the middle of a feeding again, after all.
“It’s been a while,” he comments as you slide into the seat across from him. Xingqiu closes the book he was reading and props an elbow on the table, resting his head against the curve of his palm. “I’m guessing this is really important if you came to me for help.”
“It is,” you sigh.
Your companion nods along and smiles. “Okay, I’ll hear you out. Make sure to order something first because I can tell this one’s going to take us a while.”
Wanmin Restaurant, the place he chose for your quick meeting, serves the best Black-Back Perch Stew you’ve ever tasted in your life. This makes it a whole lot easier to settle down and explain your situation to Xingqiu to the most minute details. He quietly eats his own food as you tell him about the dreams you experience inside Zhongli’s head. How it always takes place in the same setting. How the sequence of events seem to have a linear pattern to them – which is quite rare to encounter in a human’s dreams. You’ve never once felt any sense of order whenever you hopped into the minds of your targets, but it’s as if you’re witnessing something straight out of a film reel when it comes to your boss-turned-lover.
You suspect that Xingqiu has been an incubus long before you’ve even been born. In spite of his appearance, you can tell he holds more wisdom about your kind than one would expect. So it doesn’t come as a surprise when he quietly hums at the end of your story – an answer already prepared in advance.
“Memories,” he says simply. “You’re not just witnessing that man’s dreams – you’re watching his memories.” 
You frown. “But…that place is something that’s straight out of a fantasy novel. Gods and monsters? A world plunged into a war? How could Zhongli have memories of that?”
Xingqiu spares you a soft laugh. “How do creatures like us still exist in a world catered for humans and humans alone? There are many things that can’t be explained by pure logic. But I have a hunch that the owner of the memories you see is both your boyfriend and isn’t at the same time.”
“...I’m sorry?”
“Do you believe in past lives?” he asks. “Reincarnation, exactly. Do you believe that all of us have already lived once before?”
“Are you saying that the stuff I’m seeing in his dreams are memories of a past life?” you clarify, face twisting with confusion. “Xingqiu, isn’t that a bit…”
“Crazy? It is,” he chuckles. “But like I said, this world leaves a lot of things unexplained. Some details are meant to sound crazy so you wouldn’t think they’re actually possible.”
You toy with what’s left of your dish, the appetite you’ve built up suddenly dissipating at the idea that Xingqiu just proposed to you. So even in a past life, Zhongli adored Guizhong to the point that he’d tear both heaven and earth asunder all in her name. You wonder if the Zhongli in this world, the one you’re currently dating, loved Guizhong to the same degree as well. He probably did, and you probably wouldn’t compare to someone like her.
“Is it possible for past lives to have some…parallels to the ones we live now?” Your voice is quiet, almost as if you fear for the answer.
The incubus considers the question for a moment. “Well, yes. The saying ‘history repeats itself’ isn’t exactly true because history doesn’t repeat itself – sometimes, it just rhymes. Things that occurred in the past can occur again in the present, but they won’t always entail the same meaning.” 
You receive his words with a solemn nod, feeling your chest twist uncomfortably. Somehow, you don’t really like the sound of that.
“Thank you,” you tell Xingqiu when the two of you are done splitting the bill. “You seriously shed some light on a lot of things that were confusing me.”
“Don’t mention it,” he insists, tucking his book underneath his shoulder. For a moment, you think that this is where you part ways, but Xingqiu suddenly pauses – eyes narrowing as he leans closer to you. “When was the last time you fed?”
You’re taken aback by his sudden inquiry, but you manage an answer all the same. “Um, a while.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? You have a boyfriend that’s more than willing to help you, right?” He posits the question like he expected the answer to be yes, but when you shyly avert your gaze, Xingqiu’s smile falls almost immediately. “Oh, no. He doesn’t know what you are, does he?”
“It’s kind of hard to just go off on a tangent and say, ‘hey I’m actually a demon that receives my life force from dream sex’,” you point out, but know he’s right either way. “I…I do plan on telling him. Just not anytime soon. We’re kind of busy with a huge project at work, and I can’t really drop something like that out of nowhere.”
Xingqiu sighs, pinching his nose between his fingers. “But you’ve been spending a lot of time in his dreams anyways. Am I right? You seem to know an awful lot about his past life now that I think about it.”
…Of course Xingqiu’s going to be the one who catches you red-handed.
It’s really no secret that you still frequent Zhongli’s dreams, not to feed but to learn more about the life Rex lived alongside Guizhong. Since you started going out with your boss, the details became more descriptive with each visit. It’s as if you’re starting to assimilate yourself better in Guizhong’s body, and you could glean more insight about that strange, strange world with more certainty. Last night, she and Rex talked about how they plan on transferring the Guili Assembly to the harbor city, where they’ll be far from the evil gods that wish to kill them all.
“Well, whatever your circumstances are, you know what happens when you don’t feed,” Xingqiu reminds you almost grimly, not leaving any trace of his once cheerful façade. “Don’t downplay the effects of hunger. We’re already an endangered species as is.”
As you head home that day, you end up thinking about his warning more than you should. Everything Xingqiu said is in the right – you knew as much. You’ve had to suffer through the aftereffects only recently yourself, but...
You can take it. Just a bit more.
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The next day, Zhongli comes over to your apartment to prepare dinner for you. He’s been excited all week to serve you his signature bamboo shoot soup, but Xingqiu’s words haunt you for the entirety of the day. You try your best not to make your distress obvious to your boyfriend, but you’re gravely mistaken if you thought Zhongli wasn’t going to catch on.
“Is anything on your mind?” he asks softly, pressing his lips to your neck. You’re seated comfortably in his lap as the two of you lounge on the sofa. But even if this has become one of your favorite places to relax with him, you just can’t bring yourself to do so now.
“Just…work,” you sigh as you rest your head across his chest. 
The beat of his heart is steady like usual, reminding you that Zhongli is real and breathing right beside you. That he’s not just a product of your dreams, like your mind always leads you to believe.
“Somehow I don’t believe that.” You can almost hear him pout. “Was dinner not to your liking, perhaps?”
“No, it’s not that,” you insist. “I’m just…really tired is all.”
That’s not exactly a lie. You’re starting to feel the effects of your own self-deprivation with each passing day. And even if you already learned your lesson last time, your conscience can’t take the idea of feeding on another person when you have a boyfriend. To further add to your list of problems, even if you wanted to harness energy from Zhongli, the setting of his dreams is too convoluted for you to pick up the right momentum. 
Rex Lapis was working hard to defend the land that he and Guizhong dedicated their lives to protect. Even if you appeared as the woman he loved more than anything else in his dreams, you doubt you’ll be able to seduce him during such a crucial period in the war. 
So now, you’re stuck in a stalemate between your own stubbornness and physiological needs. You’re not even going to be surprised anymore if your body just suddenly gives out on you one of these days.
“Can I propose something that could take your mind off such trifling affairs?”
The room falls silent once he utters the words, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks. Was he suggesting what you think he’s suggesting? 
As far as intimacy goes, you haven’t really gone all the way with Zhongli. Apart from the occasional makeout sessions in the break room, in his office, and sometimes even his car, you never really sought for anything more than that. You’re well aware that Guizhong’s death is still fresh in his heart, and if he ever considered the possibility of sex, you’d want him to come to you in his own time. 
This is quite the opportune moment for it, too. You’re barely keeping up appearances now that your stockpile of sexual energy started to dwindle. But now that Zhongli was coming onto you, you suppose it won’t hurt to kill two birds with one stone. 
There’s something different in the air as he carries you to your bedroom – lips never straying too far from yours. Zhongli’s eyes are heavily lidded with want, a look you have a tough time imagining on him given the man’s saintlike patience. But as he carefully peels off your clothes, you can’t help but think how different he is from Rex. Where the God of Contracts is ferocious and impatient, Zhongli seems like he’s going to take all the time in the world to drown you in his love. 
“That tickles,” you mewl as his fingers trail across your inner thigh and you feel him smirk against the skin of your throat. 
“I know,” he says. “I quite enjoy seeing you squirm underneath my touch.”
“You’re mean…”
You can barely contain the gasp that resounds from your lips when you feel him tracing your slick entrance with the prod of his fingers. Zhongli murmurs the sweetest things against your lips, yet the things he’s doing between your thighs are anything but innocent. He keeps your knees apart, spreading you open for only him to see, and as he gazes at you from above, you clumsily tug off the tie that’s holding his beautiful hair in place.
Dark brown tresses cascade across the sides of his head. You stare up at the gorgeous man above you with a longing sigh.
When his long, thick digits sink into you, you silence your moans in the curve of his shoulder – teeth biting down at his flesh as Zhongli loosens you up. You feel his thumb occasionally catching on your clit, as if meaning to tease a momentary sensation of pleasure before denying you a few moments later. He’s cruel like that. Nonetheless, he watches you with quiet fascination as you practically grind yourself against his hand – feeling just how wet his fingers have gotten in the short time you were inside the room. The squelch of your cunt is a sound you would’ve been too embarrassed to hear, had you been with someone else. But with Zhongli, everything just seems so right.
“That’s it,” he goads you huskily, teeth grazing the side of your jaw. “Lose yourself for me, darling. Think of no one else but me.”
Darling? That’s new. But the new pet name only serves to push you over the edge – making your walls clench around his fingers as you ride out your orgasm. Zhongli claims your lips in another heated kiss, relentlessly plunging his digits into you despite the overstimulation. You beg him to stop, but the only sound that comes from your mouth is a broken moan of his name.
You’re nothing but a boneless pile on the bed when you finally come down from your high, breathing heavily as you attempt to reorient yourself to your surroundings. The sensation of Zhongli shifting above you registers a bit late in your mind, but your frayed nerves jolt back to life when you feel him rubbing the head of his cock across your glistening seam. 
“Too much,” you whimper. “Zhongli, i-it’s too much…”
He leans down to press a loving kiss on your mouth, one of his hands rubbing your hip soothingly. “Shhh, I know you can take me. Just like you always have.” 
…Wait, what?
You can’t even offer what he said another thought because Zhongli makes good on his words and slowly slips his length into you without much warning. A sob nearly tears its way out of your throat with how his thick cock stretches you to the brim, but your lover kisses away the tears before they even come. 
“You mean so much to me,” he murmurs, twining his hands with yours. “More than you could ever know.” 
That was a given. Having Zhongli as a boyfriend made you feel like you were important; you were loved. Though you haven’t been dating for all that long, he never once gave you a reason to doubt the sincerity of his feelings. So despite all the odd things you unknowingly witnessed in his dreams, you like to believe that he meant every word. 
His hips slap against yours unabated, pumping his length hard and fast enough to make you croon his name over and over. And even if he managed to exhibit some degree of patience a while ago, it takes little time for Zhongli to move past his courtesy and bite down on the skin of your throat hard enough to bruise. 
“Mine,” he growls. “I’ll never let you go, my love.”
You would’ve teased him for such a cheesy choice of words if you were under different circumstances. But the moment the new endearment falls from Zhongli’s lips, you go completely still underneath him. 
“Stop. Zhongli, please stop.”
To his credit, he listens just as told – gazing at you with a puzzled look as he takes his length out. Zhongli is concerned for a moment, because you’re staring at him as if he’s killed a man right in front of you. When he reaches out a hand to touch your face, intent on asking what was wrong, you instinctively slap it away.
“I…” Your voice fails you. After all, how on earth can you just tell him that you wanted to stop because that was the very same thing that Rex calls Guizhong in his dreams. You can’t help but think that Zhongli used to call the Guizhong of this world the same thing, too.
Sometimes, real life could coincide with what happens in the dreamscape. Inside his mind, Rex Lapis sees Guizhong, not you. And you’re more than inclined to believe that it’s the same case here with Zhongli.
You’re not the one he sees – it’s the dead woman that he’s never stopped loving these past six years.
You know you’re being obtuse. Your boss isn’t the kind of person who lets his past grievances interfere with his present relationships. But the anxiety you’ve accumulated since your meeting with Xingqiu had boiled over with the worst timing possible. 
Instead of talking it out, you roll over to your side of the bed – pulling the covers tight enough around your body so that he sees no inch of it. You know that what you’re doing is probably hurting Zhongli more than you think, but you shut out any hint of remorse that threatens to make you waver.
It doesn’t take long for him to settle on the spot right next to you. Zhongli doesn’t ask why you suddenly pushed him away, nor do you make an effort to explain. 
“I’m sorry.” 
His words ring sincerely enough, but it sounds like he doesn’t even know what he’s apologizing for. You don’t fault him for it. You’re still unsure why you even let yourself be consumed by your own doubts. Didn’t you just say you believed in Zhongli when he told you how much you mean to him?
You suppose this is where you fall short compared to Guizhong. The God of Dust put her faith in Rex Lapis despite his violent tendencies. She believes in him both as his follower and lover in equal measure. You, though? You’re already lucky enough to be dealing with a mellowed down version of the man in your dreams, but you still decide to take it for granted. Because…what? You’re insecure? You’re jealous of a woman who’s been dead for six years?
In the end, you decide that you’re too tired to think about it at the moment. Since you interrupted your own feeding session, your body wasn’t able to gain even an ounce of energy. You’re better off preserving what little you had left if you knew what was good for you.
(If Zhongli hears you choke on your own sobs later in the night, he says nothing of it in the morning.) 
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“Can you make a contract with me?”
Rex Lapis is cleaning the blood off his polearm when Guizhong’s voice cuts through the silence of the night. He stares at her hard, yet his gaze still carries a hint of fondness he’s reserved for her and her alone.
She purses her lips before continuing, “If I were to be infected by the miasma that’s tainting the guardian yakshas in the front lines, I want you to take my life.”
“No.” His answer is quick and precise, as if he’s already mulled it over several times before she even brought the matter to light. “If that happens, I’ll turn this world upside down just to find a cure that can save you.”
“Yet you can’t even do that for the children who devoted their lives to you?” 
He stills, feeling the jab of his lover’s accusation hit harder than he expected. It’s not that he doesn’t care for the adepti – he simply knows that it’s in their nature to be more tenacious than the rest of their soldiers. Rex Lapis is certain that they can resist the effects of the miasma on their own merit. Guizhong, however, is just as delicate as the dust she holds dominion over. He’d rather watch the world burn first than let her die either by his hand or the corruption induced by that pesky miasma.
But still, he respects all his lover’s thoughts and wishes. She isn’t the brains of their operation for nothing. Without her, he wouldn’t have made it half as far in this war as he did now.
“Very well,” Rex Lapis agrees, albeit reluctantly. “I will honor this contract until the day I die.”
Guizhong’s eyes soften at his decision, and when she smiles, he feels his stone cold heart thawing at the radiance that only she can ever exude.
“I know you will.” 
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“You’re doing it again, huh?”
Hu Tao ambles by your cubicle with that knowing tone of hers, arms crossed in a way that suggests you’re about to receive another thorough scolding. But you’re really not in the mood to be told off by someone who hasn’t lived in your shoes before, so you opt to ignore her. 
“Hey, I’m talking to you,” she huffs, fingers pinching your face like she often does but you keep your eyes straight on the screen of your laptop. “Aren’t you and the consultant seeing each other lately? Is he not good in bed or something?”
Thankfully, the director has the decency to lower her voice when she speaks, making you heave another sigh before glancing at her warily. “It’s nothing like that.”
“Hmm… Let me guess. You’re doing something you’re not supposed to, aren’t you?”
Hu Tao’s perceptiveness is absolutely beyond you. You’ve always known that she’s quicker on the uptake than most people you’ve met in life, but it’s almost scary how she’s seemingly aware of your actions. You’re the succubus and she’s the human, but sometimes you feel like Hu Tao has more power over you than you initially assumed.
You try not to think about the more recent additions to your vignettes of Zhongli’s past memories. You can tell that the stakes of the war were growing higher and higher each time you visited his dreams. Could that be the influence of the current events in his life?
Ever since the night you pushed him away, you and Zhongli haven’t been on speaking terms. Sure, the two of you still conversed about details that need fine-tuning for your project, but beyond that, it’s complete radio silence. His good morning and good night texts have stopped, and he’s never once dropped by your apartment in that time frame; nor has he invited you over to his own. His distant behavior tears you up more than you realize, but you tell yourself that he has all the right to avoid you if he’s upset about what you did.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you tell Hu Tao. “Director, forgive me for being blunt, but I’d like to focus on this report now.”
Your superior sighs. You assume she’s going to concede early for a change, but the moment you think Hu Tao is already on her way, you feel her lean closer to your ear, whispering something that sends a chill down your spine.
“Don’t dive too deep into matters that don’t concern you. Don’t try to change things that have already been set in stone,” she says calmly, her fingers digging slightly into your shoulders. “If you lose sight of what’s really important, you might lose yourself in the process, too.”
When she lets go of you, Hu Tao continues humming that same, lively song she always sings – leaving you to deal with the guilt that grips your heart like a vice.
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About two weeks since Zhongli started giving you the silent treatment, you come to a sound conclusion.
He’s still thinking about Guizhong. Well, she was his first love – meaning, your boss isn’t exactly going to stop thinking of her anytime soon. But you thought about your conversation with Xingqiu several times over the last few days. You hypothesized that the reason why Zhongli was continuously dreaming about his memories of a past long gone is because his grief cuts even deeper than he let on. 
Though you have no means of making sure, you’re almost too certain that the reason Zhongli still thinks of her even if you’re right in front of him is because her memory is too painful to let go. He clings to it subconsciously, and that desperation manifests itself in his dreams – back to a lifetime where Guizhong still lives.
The things that happened in the past are bound to happen in the present; that’s what Xingqiu told you the last time. So if the Guizhong in this world has already passed on, it’s safe to assume that the one in his dreams is bound to face the same fate as well. 
But…you have the power to change that.
Even if it’s nothing but a memory now, what if you could alter the outcome? If Zhongli is left with memories of Guizhong that aren’t tained with sorrow, maybe he can finally move past it.
Maybe he can finally see you instead of her.
It’s a fool’s line of reasoning – you know that. This was going to be one of the most dangerous things you tried in anyone’s dreamscape. But you’re so catastrophically in love with Zhongli, that you’d give up anything just to ease his pain. 
You’re well aware that your body is deteriorating at an exponential pace. Not only are you expending a lot of energy to tinker with Zhongli’s memories, but you don’t even bother with feeding anymore. You tell yourself that you can do that later, once you manage to save Guizhong from her timely demise. 
Everything you can think of to keep her from dying, you made sure happened in the dream. You don’t let her walk out to the front lines to give orders like she usually does. You make sure to avoid all the guardian yakshas, who are already tainted with the corruption that craftier gods weaponized against Rex Lapis’ forces. And most of all, you don’t let her leave his sight longer than she needs to – because if there’s anyone you can rely on to keep Guizhong alive, it’s Zhongli himself.
Of course, you’re still doing splendidly in keeping your work life separate from everything else. Your project has officially come to a close, raking in more revenue for Wangsheng than anyone expected. 
Today, you’re scheduled to give a speech addressing everyone’s efforts in the company’s conference room – something that you’re a bit reluctant to do because you know Zhongli is going to be there, too. The idea of him looking at you from the crowd with none of the adoration he used to give so freely is enough to make your stomach turn.
But still, you compose yourself. You’re no stranger to adversity, so seeing your boyfriend (can you even still call him that?) in a crowded room is the least of your problems. 
At least, that’s what you thought.
When Director Hu Tao calls you up to the platform, you're raring to go – practicing with deep breaths as you repeat the gist of your speech inside your head. You made sure to cake your face with a heavier layer of makeup this time around because the last thing you need is for her to pull you to the side and scold you for still refusing to feed. 
But the moment you get up from your seat, the world suddenly tilts to the side – your vision going black within seconds.
The last thing you remember is being whisked into a pair of strong arms. You want to curl your fingers in the fabric of his coat, to apologize a million times over, but the familiar scent of his clothes is enough to put you straight to sleep. 
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“Goodness, miss. You had us terrified back there.”
Ganyu is sitting by your bed in the infirmary when you regain consciousness, wiping the tears off her face with a dainty handkerchief. You mumble a half-hearted apology, but immediately seize up when you see Zhongli leaning against the wall in front of you. 
“The nurse told us she suspected that you might have an eating disorder,” the secretary continues, rubbing your hand comfortingly. “It did seem like you were pushing yourself harder than usual during the last few weeks. You should really take care of yourself more.”
An eating disorder…? Well, if depriving yourself of your required sustenance can be translated into a human affliction, you suppose that was the most obvious counterpart. Still, you’re still feeling a bit too groggy for conversation, so instead of addressing Ganyu’s plight, you sink further into the mattress.
You can feel his gaze on your pitiful form – those eyes of endless gold. But you’re too much of a coward to face him when you’ve been reduced into such a state.
A little while later, you hear the door to the infirmary swing open. Is it odd that you can tell that the newcomer is Hu Tao based on the sound of her footsteps alone?
“Leave us,” she says sternly – addressing both Ganyu and Zhongli at the same time. “There’s something I need to discuss with her.”
You half-expect Zhongli to complain, or at least contest the director’s orders. But your heart sinks when he resigns himself to what he’s told, quietly ushering himself and his secretary out of the room.
Hu Tao waits for about two more minutes before speaking again.
“You better feed now or you’re going to die for real.”
“...But –”
“I can’t have you dying on my watch just because you’re being stubborn about it,” Hu Tao nearly snaps – eyes alight with rage. “Feed now. I don’t care who it is, just do it. I won’t let you out of this place until you’ve gotten better.”
To say that you’re terrified is putting it lightly. You’ve never seen Hu Tao get angry before, but the absolute urgency in her gaze – practically begging you to please just save yourself – makes you consider her request. 
“Okay,” you say quietly, only surrendering because you can’t save Guizhong if you’re dead. “See you in a bit.”
‘A bit’ is a lie that you didn’t really mean to tell. When you entered the crossroads of the dreamscape, you didn’t bother picking targets anymore. You slipped into the dream of a man who’s probably in his thirties, intent on just getting him off, sucking out some energy for yourself before making your leave. 
But no matter how many times you attempt to drive him to an orgasm, you don’t feel yourself getting any better. The energy that always emanates out of a man post-coitus is nowhere to be found. 
You switch targets faster than you can even blink. This time, it’s a boy that’s probably fresh out of high school, and you feel a bit horrible for having to trespass like this. But instead of fretting about common decency in a goddamn dream , you make him come about two consecutive times before realizing that –
This isn’t working, you mutter to yourself. Why the hell isn’t it working?
You’ve always had a hard time harnessing energy from strangers, yes. However, those instances granted you at least a tiny ounce of energy that could stem the hunger for a while. Now, you’re getting absolutely nothing.
It seems that Hu Tao is already privy to your dilemma when you wake up in your own body. 
“I’m going to put him to sleep,” she decides with a vexed sigh. “Make sure you get enough energy to last you for an entire year, got that? No meddling with anything else.”
“W-Wait,” you croak out, and damn, you feel even weaker than before. “What do you mean you’re going to put him to sleep? Are you talking about Zhongli?”
“Who else could I be talking about, little devil?” The director rolls her eyes. “Now, I’m going to ask you to pretend I’m not about to do something illegal and just rest. The moment you fall asleep, get into Zhongli’s head and feed. Okay?”
You don’t even get a chance to respond to Hu Tao’s words because you’re already nodding. Your bones feel like lead, limbs feel like they’ll fall off any minute. If you stay conscious any longer, your eyes might just dry out. 
It doesn’t take five minutes for you to fall asleep again. And as you drift aimlessly in the depths of your subconscious, a part of you that’s still coherent anticipates that it might take a while before you find Zhongli’s dreamscape. You’re not sure how long ‘putting him to sleep’ is going to be, but surprisingly, your existence is abruptly transported to the familiar marshlands of Dihua. 
You chalk it up to how often you’ve been hopping into Zhongli’s dreams, but you immediately notice that something isn’t right. The skies have turned into an ashen gray color – columns of smoke rising in several locations at once. When you gaze around, all you see are the fallen bodies of both soldiers and monsters alike. 
Rex. You need to find Rex Lapis.
That’s your very first instinct once your consciousness fully pulls through, careful to step over the decaying corpses as you mutter a silent prayer for each one. But just when you thought you’re going to end up tripping on one of them, you watch in equal parts horror and confusion when you witness your leg pass through the carcass of a dead monster.
All it takes is a single glance down for you to know that you’re no longer inside Guizhong’s body. Instead, you drift around as an apparition of sorts – arms, legs, and torso appearing less saturated than usual. It’s like you’ve become a transparent cut-out, and you give yourself a minute to think about what the hell was going on. This has never happened in your previous feedings. You’ve always been able to maintain your form, despite the numerous instances you’ve hopped in between dreamscapes. 
In the distance, however, you find the answer to all of your questions.
You spot them amidst the debris left behind by the battle. Rex Lapis kneels at the side of the most beautiful woman you’ve seen in your life – cradling her frail body in his arms as golden tears flowed forth from his eyes. It’s the first time he’s surrendered the unmovable visage you’ve gotten so used to seeing in this dream. Gone is the unfeeling, uncaring God of Contracts who felled his own enemies like it was as easy as breathing. In his place is a man who only wanted to live with the person he adored the most.
Guizhong’s pale skin is overrun by dark lacerations that look like black veins rooted into the surface. Her own eyes glisten with tears as she reaches up to cradle Zhongli’s face. She says something that you don’t hear over the wind howling in your ears, but you don’t let yourself remain stagnant for a second longer. 
You run straight to them with what little strength you can muster – intent on shaking Guizhong by the shoulders to scream, “No! This isn’t how things were supposed to be! You were supposed to live. I was supposed to save you!”
But none of these messages get across to either of the two. To them, you’re nothing but the breeze on their skin – violently whipping all around as the war only worsened. There aren’t any clear winners here, this is becoming clear to you. But as the God of Dust heaves her final breath, you hear Guizhong speak for the last time.
“Thank you… For honoring our contract,” she sighs, blood dribbling down the sides of her mouth as she forces herself to smile. In her hand, she lifts up a stone dumbbell with a complicated structure – something you’ve never seen before despite all the time you spent in her body.
“This is the mark of our pledge, and it is also my challenge to you.” Guizhong hands it to him shakily, still careful despite being on death’s doorstep. “All my wisdom is contained inside. If you can unlock it –”
She never gets to finish the words. A loud clap of thunder booms across the marsh – deafening even when you don’t have the body in this dream to perceive the sensation. Zhongli makes a mistake of letting the noise distract him, because when he glances at Guizhong once more, the woman he loves has already crumbled in his arms. 
Once the dust settles over the war-torn battlefield, Rex Lapis rises back to his feet. You can see the weight of his grief in the way his golden hands tremble at his sides. But just as quickly as his lover’s passing, he summons his polearm back in his hands – thrusting the hilt into the ground hard enough to break through the barren soil. The God of Contracts lets out a monstrous shout – terror rooting itself into your being. The sound is fearsome. Inescapable. 
And with a single twist of his hand, the earth starts to shake beneath your feet.
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Xingqiu arrives at Hu Tao’s quarters faster than she anticipated, blue eyes startled to see the two bodies resting on top of her bed. The director pays his reaction no mind, though. Instead, she fills him in on the situation.
“I had my guards carry these two up here,” she explains, pointing a finger interchangeably at you and Zhongli. “That guy, I drugged to put him to sleep so she can get inside his dreams for sustenance. But it’s been about three hours, and neither of them are waking up.”
“What? She still hasn’t fed?” The incubus asks incredulously. “It’s been almost a month since I last saw her. Back then, she was already starving. Don’t tell me she’s been holding out all this time.”
“You’d be surprised at the lengths that stubbornness can take a person,” Hu Tao chuckles, leaning back into her seat as she twists some of the rings on her fingers. 
Xingqiu lets out a long, exasperated exhale as he sits by the bed – watching you and your so-called boyfriend doze soundly next to the other. But your deathly pale complexion doesn’t escape his notice. If he didn’t know better, he would’ve assumed you were dead.
“While I am very concerned about my friend’s destructive behavior,” he begins, casting a sidelong glance at the Wangsheng director. “I’m more curious about why you’re helping them in the first place. It’s not like you to meddle in things that are none of your business to begin with. And yet…”
Hu Tao sighs. She’s been hanging around this demon boy from the Guhua clan for too long. He can already discern what’s normal and unusual for her behavior, and she isn’t really a fan of being perceived like that.
But unwittingly, his words got her thinking.
“Remember how you pulled me out of the in-between when I tried to reach out to Grandfather in the afterlife? I nearly died because of it,” she sighs, remembering her past experiences with meddling none-too-fondly. “I can’t just stand here and watch my subordinate slowly kill herself the same way when I know someone who can help.”
Xingqiu sighs again. “Director, I’m an incubus, not a miracle worker. Us crossing paths at the in-between was nothing but a coincidence… But then again, that’s the same way I met her back then, too.” He casts your ghastly form a wistful glance. If he’d known that divulging information about your lover’s past memories would lead to this, he never would’ve said a word. 
“I need you to fetch both of them before they get trapped in their own dreams. I’ll fork over whatever amount you like,” Hu Tao proposes, her usually playful demeanor now replaced by something more grim. “Just – please. Save them.”
“...That’s a really tall order, you know?” The incubus shakes his head in disbelief. “The in-between is the last place I’d want to hang around, but this woman is my friend, too. You don’t have to cough up any –”
To both their surprise (and relief), Zhongli seizes up on the bed, sitting upright as he gasps for breath. Hu Tao uncharacteristically scrambles to hand him a glass of water, which he empties in the span of five seconds. But even if the sight of your boyfriend rousing himself from the dream is a good thing, Xingqiu notices how you’re yet to follow suit.
It seems that Zhongli followed his line of sight as well, and both him and Hu Tao can practically hear the sound of his heart plummeting straight to his stomach at the sight of you. 
“No,” he murmurs, a shaky hand reaching up to caress your face. “Not again…”
Again?
“Xingqiu, change of plans,” Hu Tao calls out softly as she meets his eyes. She doesn’t even need to elaborate further for him to understand. 
“What plan are you talking about?” Zhongli interrupts with a hard frown. “What did you do to her?”
“Oi, consultant. Don’t go accusing the people that are trying to help,” Hu Tao snarks, shooting him a dirty look. “We’re running out of time, so I’m going to give you the abridged version. Your girlfriend? She’s trapped in some place called the in-between. It’s the space that separates dreams from reality; the afterlife from the human realm.”
“But if she’s really trapped in your dream, she should’ve woken up at the same time you did,” Xingqiu adds. “That’s why I’m assuming she wandered too far and got herself stranded in your memories instead.”
“...My memories?” 
The director nods. “Yup. And unless she finds the key in her own subconscious and escapes on her own or someone else enters the same dreamscape and helps her…”
“She’ll be trapped in there forever.”
Both director and incubus stare at the poor man expectantly, wondering how he’ll take the information they just dumped on him. Xingqiu wouldn’t be surprised to see him call them a bunch of lunatics before contacting the authorities for the unsightly method Hu Tao employed just to get him to sleep. But Zhongli is strangely composed, nodding once, twice before turning to his half-dead lover.
“Tell me what I need to do,” he says quietly. In turn, Xingqiu breathes out another sigh in relief as Hu Tao claps her hands together gleefully.
“That’s the spirit, consultant!” The director beams. “Now let’s save your girlfriend, yeah?”
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You didn’t want any of this.
The sounds of a never-ending battle rages on outside – the impact of gods fighting to the death causing your temporary shelter to quake where you hide yourself away. The cave you took refuge in resembles the one you woke up in the first time you attempted to feed on Zhongli, but you don’t bother making comparisons. Not that it matters. You’re nothing but a ghost anyways – unable to go back from whence you came, and unable to go to the next place you’re supposed to be.
Still, you didn’t want to bear witness to Zhongli slaughtering hundreds in mere seconds. You’ve seen him fight before – he’s always fought valiantly in this war especially when Guizhong was by his side. But now that she’s gone, the God of Contracts is nothing but a husk of a man.
All that’s left is a bloodthirsty killing machine that intends to paint the land in the angry red of his grief.
Despite how hopeless your situation is, you can’t help but pray to whoever’s listening. You want them to remind Rex Lapis of the dream he once shared with Guizhong – to build a nation by the harbor, where no gods nor monsters can hope to harm the Guili Assembly. But as long as he continues his onslaught of carnage, that dream will never be realized.
Then, you think about the Zhongli that’s waiting for you back home.
Regret is the first emotion that occurs in your ephemeral form. You wish you could have apologized for that night – for assuming that he still isn’t over his dead ex-lover. For attempting to alter memories that aren’t truly his own for the sake of your own ego. 
For never saying how much you loved him before disappearing for good. 
If only you communicated with him normally like a proper girlfriend should. If only you didn’t assume the worst about him just because he once loved someone more than he loved you sometime ago. 
You’ve heard of incidents where succubi and incubi aren’t able to wake up from their feedings. It’s either they’re trapped in an unstable human’s dream or trapped in their own because of internal instability. You don’t know exactly how to classify your situation, but you suppose that the reason why you can’t wake yourself up is because of Guizhong.
She became your vessel in these memories during your first successful feeding. And since then, you’ve used her body to traverse the strange land that she and Rex Lapis supposedly hold dominion over. But regardless of how careful you were with Guizhong, she still died. There was nothing you could do to change something that was already set in stone, and instead you lost your way back to where you truly belonged.
For someone who claims to hate her own heritage as a succubus, this just goes to show how much you actually relied on your powers.
Gods. This fucking sucks.
You can only imagine how devastated Zhongli would feel to find your lifeless body in the real world – clutching you to his chest the same way Rex did with Guizhong. Two girlfriends dying on him in the span of six years. You wonder if he’ll ever love again.
…If Zhongli was in your place, he would have spoken to you the moment he felt uneasy about your past. He would’ve asked for some reassurance so he wouldn’t have to worry like this. 
He never would’ve tried to change you.
He would’ve told you that he trusted you.  
You miss him so much that it tears you from the inside out. If only you can see him again – see that beautiful smile again – you’d hold him tight and tell him a million times. 
You’d tell him you were a coward. That you were too afraid of splitting his affections with a woman who doesn’t even exist anymore. 
But…it’s too late for all that now, isn’t it? 
Helplessly, you pull up your barely-there knees to your chest, burying your face in between as you make yourself smaller. You want to cry yourself hoarse, but the tears never come. All you can do is sit alone in the darkness, where you can only dream of someone finding you in the middle of the chaos.
You’re too caught up in your own sorrow to discern the beam of light that splinters through the darkness. You don’t notice the man that steps into the in-between with you; don’t notice as he approaches. It’s only when you feel the familiar sensation of a large, comforting hand on your shoulder that you snap out of your misery.
“There you are,” Zhongli – your Zhongli – breathes out. 
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When you finally wake up, you feel like someone brought you back from the dead.
You can barely breathe without it feeling like the oxygen is ripping your lungs to shreds. But before you can asphyxiate yourself, a familiar figure hands you a glass of water, along with a handful of dried leaves. You glance up at Hu Tao in confusion as she stares at you nonchalantly. 
“You were in the in-between for gods-know how long,” the director reminds you. “Go chew on those to recover.”
“...I was what?”
“You were as good as dead.” The sound of Xingqiu’s familiar voice makes you jump, but the incubus simply turns the page on his novel from where he’s seated by the foot of the unfamiliar bed. “I’ve heard of succubi going a few weeks without food, but two months? Do you have a death wish?”
Your head is spinning from all the whiplash, and you actually take Hu Tao’s advice and drink some water before chewing on her magic leaves. But when you notice that there’s someone else occupying the mattress with you, your heart soars with relief.
“Hello,” Zhongli greets you.
“Hi,” you greet him back.
In your peripheral, you can see Hu Tao mouthing something you can’t decipher to Xingqiu – a message that your incubus friend is quick to pick up on before the two of them step out of the room to give you more privacy. Now that you noticed it, you were probably taken up to the director’s quarters at some point during your coma. Either way, once the door clicks shut, it’s just you and Zhongli – the first time you’ve been alone with him since that night in your apartment.
“I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, isn’t it?” you say nervously, unsure where you should even begin. But you suppose an apology is a good starting point. “I’m…sorry. For everything.”
Zhongli sighs, sitting up right to pull you in a tight hug. The abruptness of the gesture makes you drop the leaves on the bed, stunning you into complete silence.
“I thought I lost you,” he nearly chokes – a sound that you never would’ve imagined Zhongli making. “I thought I’d never see you again.”
The pure anguish in his voice makes your heart clench, and now that you have a body that actually lets you feel things, you’re finally given the familiar sensation of eyes stinging with tears. You return Zhongli’s embrace with equal fervor – letting yourself sob into the hollow of his neck.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you babble, chest seizing with tremors as you curl your fingers into his hair. “I never should’ve hidden the truth about me. I never should’ve meddled with the past. And… I never should’ve questioned the way you feel about me.”
You can feel Zhongli’s erratic pulse against your chest, and you find the fact that it’s possible for his heart to race a relief to know. When he pulls away, his cheeks are wet with tears – not the golden liquid that poured from Rex Lapis’ eyes, but the very same tears that you’re crying right this second.
This is your Zhongli. This is the man you fell in love with. 
You wonder why you even tried to change a past he experienced in a different life – knowing full well just how different he is from the God of Contracts.
“I love you,” you murmur, pressing your forehead against his. “Zhongli, I love you.” 
“And as I do you,” he breathes. “The director and the Guhua boy have already informed me of your…special circumstances, but I’d like to hear the tale of your escapades in my dreams some other time.”
You pause. “So you don’t want me to explain why I did everything I did?”
“Of course I do.” Zhongli shakes his head. “But…I was also told that you’ve been depriving yourself of sustenance for nearly two months now. As your lover, I’m inclined to help you out of your predicaments, yes?”
Oh. Oh.
“B-But we’re in the director’s room…” you tell him bashfully, feeling a surge of heat creep up your neck. “And I owe you a proper explanation for –”
He promptly shuts you up with a kiss. The nerve of this guy!
“Darling, will you allow me to make love to you?” he murmurs the words against your lips, already pulling you to his lap. “Properly this time.”
You know you should snap him out of it and insist that you’re fine. That you’ll last another day without sex if that means you can sufficiently explain yourself because Zhongli deserves as much. But you remember, at that moment, that you’re particularly weak when he starts to trail featherlight kisses along your neck. Zhongli knows this as well as you do, and you can feel him smile triumphantly when you let out a sigh in defeat. 
He doesn’t bother removing your clothes; practically tearing a hole into your pantyhose at his impatience. You balk at him for doing such a thing, but Zhongli promises to buy you another set once everything is settled. 
“Do you find it strange that I’m terribly aroused despite everything that happened?” he asks you, hauling his cock out of his unzipped trousers as he gives it a few pumps. 
“Not at all,” you respond in kind. “I’ve always thought you were hornier than you seemed. It’s always the prim and proper ones, you know?”
You bite your lip as you grind your clothed cunt against his hardening length, feeling your desire pool in between your thighs at the mere thought of him inside you. Zhongli bites down his laughter, nuzzling the crook of your neck as he spreads you open on his lap.
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Nudging your underwear aside, you sink yourself onto his thick length with a blissful sigh – feeling his cockhead hitting all the right spots. Zhongli plants his palms firmly on your hips, barely able to contain the hunger in his eyes as he watches you bounce on top of his dick. Your skirt hikes further up your thighs with each downward plunge, and your lover cares to swallow your moans with an open-mouthed kiss.
You all but muffle a scream into his lips when you feel Zhongli thrusting his hips up to meet the cadence of your movements. Tears catch in the lines of your lashes from how good it feels, and you nearly come right then and there when he pulls away to whisper in your ear.
“I’m going to fill you to the brim,” he promises. “My seed will drip down your thighs from here on out so you’ll never forget where you belong.”
“By your side?” you whisper, purposely clenching your walls around his length to elicit a reaction.
Zhongli grunts in approval, much to your amusement. “By my side.” 
He switches things up at the last minute, flipping you over so that you’re lying down on the bed. You open your mouth to protest, but Zhongli is already pressing your knees against your thighs – plunging his cock into the velvet heat of your cunt as he hits it deeper than before. 
“I’d gladly fuck you everyday if that means you’ll never starve again,” your lover tells you with a growl, golden irises boring deep into your own. “Would you like that? Would you like me to sate your needs?”
“Yes,” you mewl as your fingers rake across his back. “Yes, yes yes! I only want you, Zhongli. Please –”
Your climax blindsides you out of nowhere, cunt squeezing around his cock impossibly tight. You screw your eyes shut, burying your face in his shoulder as your body shudders and trembles from the force of it. Zhongli, however, is intent on taking advantage of your vulnerable state. He doesn’t relent – just continues pounding you into the bed as he chases his own high.
“You’re the only one I love,” he tells you all of a sudden, momentarily pulling you out of your lustful haze. “You might not be the first, but you’ll certainly be the last.”
“Stop saying cheesy things while you’re fucking my brains out,” you moan. “You’re going to make me cry…”
“Heh, that’s the point.”
As promised, Zhongli finishes inside you with a shuddering sigh – and you feel the surge of his hot seed painting your insides. You’ve never felt so satisfied after having real sex with a real human, but when you’re actually in love with the person you’re sleeping with, you suppose there’s lots of room for exceptions.
“So why were you chasing ghosts that don’t even haunt me anymore?” 
You finish the rest of the water that Hu Tao offered earlier when Zhongli asks you the million-dollar question. Your heart twists with both guilt and apprehension, but you know that this is the best time to lay the truth on the table. 
“I was…bothered when you called me by the thing that Rex Lapis called Guizhong the goddess in your dreams,” you admit. “I thought you were thinking about Guizhong your ex while you were with me.”
Zhongli nods as he fixes his own clothes, an unreadable look settling on his face. “Rex Lapis…is the identity I had in a past life, isn’t it? And Guizhong was his lover.” 
“Yes.”
“That doesn’t explain why you tried to alter my memories, though,” he points out.
“Well, I thought if I could lessen the pain of your memories of Guizhong, you’d stop thinking about her and start thinking about me.” Gods, you sound like such a fucking brat. “That – That was really childish of me. I’m sorry. I even got the director and Xingqiu involved because of my own impulsiveness…”
“If you look at it that way then, yes. It is very childish of you. But I think that just goes to show how deeply you feel about me,” Zhongli suggests with a handsome smile, reaching out to hold your hand in his. “You want me to look at you, and only you?” 
“Of course I do,” you mumble. “You want me to do the same for you, right? I’m just trying to make things even…”
Your lover lets out another laugh, raising your hand to his lips as he places a soft kiss on your skin. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to Zhongli’s show of affection.
“Guizhong…is a person who’s near and dear to me even now,” he says, going off a tangent as he rubs comforting circles into your wrist. “But do you know the last thing she told me before she passed?” 
You shake your head. “What?”
“That I shouldn’t chain myself to the past, no matter how painful it is to carry on,” Zhongli continues. “My life here is much simpler than the life Rex Lapis lived. I have no idea what you saw in my – rather, his memories to make you assume that the same applies for me. But I assure you that I’m not a man who’ll punish himself by constantly mulling over what-ifs and could-have-beens.
“All that matters is the present, and what I choose to do now, while you’re still by my side.”
…Damn it. You’re feeling the waterworks again.
“What did I do to deserve you?” you whisper, squeezing his hand just to make sure he was real.
“That, I’m afraid I can’t answer,” he chuckles. “But, on the topic of your immeasurable love, the Guhua boy imparted another interesting piece of information before lending me his powers to save you.”
“...Wait, I’ve been wondering how you got inside the in-between,” you tell him. “So it was Xingqiu? How the hell did he do that?”
“Darling, please refrain from asking questions I don’t have answers to.”
“Fine, fine. What did he say that was so interesting then?”
Zhongli laughs, and something about the shift in his tone makes you narrow your eyes in suspicion. “Director Hu said you tried to harvest energy from other men while you were on the brink of death but it didn’t work. Xingqiu informed us that when your kind starts to feel strongly about a certain human, you won’t be able to harness energy anywhere else apart from that person.”
“...Why do I feel like you’re just gloating now?”
“That’s because I am.”
The sound of the door sliding abruptly catches your attention. Hu Tao emerges from the entrance as she claps her hands loudly. “Alright, that’s enough lovey-dovey chit-chat. I’m going to have the maids launder my sheets first before I sleep in them tonight!”
Your face flushes with embarrassment. “Director Hu Tao, I –”
“Aiya! No apologies. It’s all good,” she insists. “But hey, consultaaant~ Now that I let you and your girlfriend have reunion sex in my quarters, you’re not going to press any charges for assault, will you?”
“Wait, what charges?” Your gaze darts between the two of them curiously.
Zhongli drags a palm over his face, as if having just realized something terrible. “In order to help you get into my dreams, the director laced my tea with a potent drug. I was unconscious for quite some time. But I won’t press any charges, since I have little patience for the tedium of the Liyue Police Station.”
“Aww, you’re the best!” Hu Tao gushes before turning to you. “By the way, Xingqiu already went ahead, but he asked me to give you this.” 
You blink as Hu Tao hands you a sleek black business card with the words “Dr. Paimon” printed with embossed lettering. Zhongli peers over your shoulder, examining the card with the same degree of curiosity.
“He didn’t really elaborate, but rumor has it, that person can turn you into a normal human,” the director explains, smiling with intent. “I figured that since you’re probably gonna want to spend the rest of your life with the old man, you’d want to give up your immortality.”
Immortality… A staple that comes with being a succubus. It’s one of the most fundamental reasons why your kind fed on sexual energy in the first place, yet you never stopped to think of your future if you stayed immortal, while Zhongli continues to age with the passage of time. 
You won’t be able to start a family with him; have his children; grow old with him. Because that’s the fate that your kind has long been cursed with since they first walked the earth. But now, you’re given a way out – even if it sounds too good to be true.
You’re afraid to look at Zhongli. You feel like you should accept the offer, but everything that transpired today is just so overwhelming that you’re not sure if you can make the right choice…
But as always, he’s here to support you.
“You don’t have to make a decision now,” he reminds. “We still have work tomorrow, so I suggest we head home and rest first. I’m sure that can wait.”
…Being thrust back into the nightmare that is the Liyuen corporate ladder after nearly dying in the in-between. Way to maintain a sense of normalcy, Zhongli. 
Well, ‘normal’ is the best thing that the universe can give to you right now. Too bad you’re not selfless enough to deny the one thing you’ve been craving after all this time.
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“Miss? Here’s the tea you asked for.”
Ganyu’s voice flits through your ears like a calming breeze. She places your drink on your desk – just behind a plaque that reads Wangsheng Corporation - Consultant. The scent of freshly brewed qingxin petals wafts to your nose and you feel every nerve ending in your body relax at the more aroma.
“Thank you,” you tell her kindly. “You’re right. This tea really does work miracles.”
Your secretary hides a giggle behind her hand. “Both Lady Ningguang and Mister Zhongli became fond of it when I started working for them. I figured it would be the same with you.”
The golden band on your finger seems to glint in the sunlight streaming into your office as you take a few sips. You used to think that tea was nothing but leaf water, but if you have someone like Zhongli for a husband, you’re bound to start appreciating the finer things in life – Ganyu’s herbal remedy included.
“Oh, that reminds me,” she perks up. “Is the director coming back soon? I heard that four months is already a good time to check for the gender.”
You’re a bit surprised by her words, but Ganyu has always exhibited her excitement for the budding life in your womb the moment you made the announcement a few months back. 
“Zhongli’s secretary told me he should be home by the end of the week,” you tell her kindly, free hand instinctively going to the slight swell of your belly. “Once we figure out whether it’s a boy or a girl, I promise you’re the first person we’ll inform.”
She gasps. “You really mean that, miss?”
“Why not? You’re the godmother after all~”
Once Ganyu recovers from the initial shock from being assigned as your child’s godmother, you’re left to your lonesome once more. 
It’s been six months since Hu Tao stepped down as the director for Wangsheng Corporation – passing the title onto Zhongli – and six months since you’ve held office as the company’s new consultant. At times, you still find it strange, how you’re the one giving advice with regards to your husband’s dealings with other businesses. But you remind yourself that everything happens all in due time. 
Your old life as a succubus is way behind you now, but there are moments where you still think of what happened to Rex Lapis after Guizhong’s death. Did he get killed by the other gods? Did he lead the Guili Assembly to the harbor? What happened to the stone dumbbell Guizhong gave to him? You’ll never know now that you’ve lost the ability to travel through dreams. 
But in the back of your head, you hoped he was able to find some sort of deliverance from the pain induced by his lover’s passing.
In the midst of your contemplation, your phone buzzes with a text – one that you’re quick to open.
Zhongli [10:54]: I’m boarding the plane at Fontaine National Airport right now. Should be back by tonight :)
Huh. That was earlier than expected.
Me [10:54] We’ll be waiting with a nice bottle of osmanthus ^__^
Zhongli [10:55]: Darling, please. Drinking is bad for the baby
Me [10:55]: One glass won’t cause genetic disorders, Zhongli.
Zhongli [10:56]: Very well… I’ll still make sure to watch your consumption though.
Me [10:56]: Fine by me <3 Take care on the way back. I love you.
Zhongli [11:15]: Sorry, just got past a checkpoint. I love you, too.
You put away your phone with a sigh, tracing the rim of your teacup absentmindedly. For good measure, you pinch your cheek the same way Hu Tao used to do when she was still in charge – just to make sure you’re not dreaming. 
But the baby is intent on helping you out with that when you feel it kick a bit too hard against your navel.
“Okay, point taken,” you mumble. 
A year ago, you wouldn’t have pictured yourself carrying a human child – much more picturing yourself as a human. But you learned that time is kind to those who wait. It’s just as Zhongli said: regardless of everything that happened in the past, what’s important is what you do now in the present. 
And to you, that’s all that matters. 
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★ MASTERLIST . AO3 ★
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© cryoculus | kaientai ✧ all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my work on other platforms without permission.
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lanafofana · 26 days
Text
To soothe, Ignites
It's been three days since i had this thought hit my brain like a freight train and ive been chewing on it ever since in a google doc and anyway here you go
Pairing: Halsin x (female) Tav
Warning: the weight of burgeoning, unresolved tension
Summary: It's just a nice friendly, platonic massage, what's the worst that could happen?
Rating: M just to be safe. Nothing really overly explicit
Halsin rubs the back of his neck and leans back a little, stretching, a faint frown on his weathered face. Across the camp, Tav watches discreetly over the edge of her book. It’s not the first time she’s witnessed him absently soothing an ache at the end of the day. 
It occurs to her that, for being such a large man, he must get quite the cramp in his neck from always having to bow his head to talk to her and her companions. Someone calls to her and she turns away, distracted from the vein of thought. 
It isn’t until later, after they’ve eaten their dinner and people have started to drift back to their own tents, she picks up the thread again. First watch is barely a chore at all with how her mind, resistant to settling down for the evening, spins through a dizzying whirl of thoughts. 
Generally she stokes the fire with naught but a book for company, occasionally walking the perimeter of camp and puzzling on the mystery of the Absolute. Tonight though, the cult is a distant problem, distant as their destination in Baldur’s Gate anyway. With Ketheric defeated and another long stretch to their journey waiting for morning to begin she finds her mind wandering to topics much closer at hand. 
The elf was a powerful druid. His command of the druidic arts was a sight to behold though she only caught glimpses of it during the assault on Moonrise. Of course, she vividly remembers the warmth of his healing magic mending her seconds after an arrow had caught her between the ribs. It had been quick. The pain had torn through her concentration like a blaze of hellfire. She had crashed to her knees, the taste of iron and mortality on her tongue, her vision blurring with shadows. She’d barely had time to suck in a wet sounding wheeze when his hands had been on her, nature’s divine magic enveloping her entirely. 
“You’re all right, lass,” he’d said firmly, as if so secure in the inevitability of her being alright that he would brook no argument on the matter. From her or her fatal injury. The pain had reduced to a manageable ache and she’d sucked in a lungful of air greedily, hardly aware of it when he’d dragged her back to her feet. Until she’d seen the bugbear running up behind him, bloody axe raised high, and then she’d shoved him away and instantly thrown herself back into the fray of violence. 
The archdruid had proven himself more than just a valuable ally, but a good companion too. Perhaps even a friend. He’d always been polite and sincere, if a little distant. More attentive to his god, paying an impressive amount of time dedicated to his prayers and meditations rather than the camaraderie and dramas of their little camp. Still, even if he did not seek out her or anyone else’s companionship he was always willing to sit with her during her watch when she sought out his. Putting down his book or whatever he was doing with that scrap of wood he was always carrying and putting the full weight of his attention and focus on her entirely. 
Since reuniting the two halves of Thaniel’s spirit it seemed to Tav that Halsin also seemed more whole. As if a missing piece of his own spirit had finally slotted back into place. His smiles seemed warmer and his attention more focused outward than in. 
As if summoned by the force of her thoughts, Tav caught movement from the corner of her eye and was surprised to see the druid himself emerge from the gloom of the forest. He was on his way to his own tent but paused when he saw her in the glow of the campfire. 
“Good evening,” he greets, approaching. He’s doffed his shirt, a common habit of his in the evening but the glow of the fire gives the planes of his chest an otherworldly glow. 
Tav feels the corners of her smile lift, the clattering of her thoughts stilling. “That it is,” she agrees. “For once.”
With the shadow curse lifted she can finally spy the twinkling of stars between the boughs of the trees. When a breeze flutters through camp it feels like fresh air being breathed into the land instead of a death rattle come to herald some horrific doom. 
Halsin, following her gaze to the sky, smiles and nods in assent. “And for many more nights to come, I believe.” 
Lost in thought he doesn’t feel her gaze as she takes the opportunity to openly study him. He looks well, not relaxed per say, but a little stiff. Absentmindedly the druid raises a hand and rubs at his neck, cocking his head as if to relieve a persistent ache and Tav comes to a sudden decision.
“Come. Sit,” she gestures to the space before her by the fire. Halsin gives her a quizzical smile, his brows furrowed. “You’ve been worrying that neck of yours like a dog with a bone, let me help.”   
“It is nothing to be concerned about,” he tries to defer but Tav is adamant. 
“Nonsense. Can’t have my favorite archdruid suffering,” she teases. “Not when I have the means to alleviate it very easily. Come.” She reaches down from her perch on the log they’ve been using as seating and pats the ground between her feet expectantly. “Allow me.”  
Hesitating for the span of a breath Halsin relents, sitting himself before her. At her feet he spies a book and picks it up curiously. “A travel guide?” 
Tav hums and widens the gap between her knees, gently guiding him closer for a better reach. Despite the cooling autumn night air his bare skin radiates heat and she tries not to think too much about any other circumstances where her legs might bracket his body so close to hers. Or of his proximity to her own budding source of heat. Swallowing, mouth suddenly very dry, Tav refocuses on the task at hand. “Would you like to read it? Probably not much new information for you but the author’s particular, ah, outlook is quite something. An entertaining read if not a wholly informative one.” 
Halsin chuckles, opening and scanning the text. “Thank you, I’ve found my own reading material quite exhausted of late.” 
Brushing his tawny hair off his shoulders, Tav tsk’s with mock reproach. “You should have said, I’ve quite the collection now. When you’ve finished with that one, let me know.”
“You are incredibly generous,” Halsin murmurs but it’s so low she can’t be sure if she was meant to hear it. 
At first it feels clumsy as she maps out the expanse of his wide shoulders. In truth, it’s been a very long time since she’s done anything like this for someone but, much like picking up the sword again after a decade or so of neglecting the craft, her hands seem to know their way around better than her mind. With dextrous skill she gets to work, alternating between using her thumbs and the heel of her palms to glide over thick muscle, coaxing each gnarl to release. 
The camp is quiet, the rest of her companions lost to slumber, and she quickly loses herself to the lull of the crackling fire and the delicate flutter of turning pages as Halsin reads. They don’t speak but the silence is comfortable, easy. 
With each rigid cord of muscle she rubs into submission the druid relaxes a little more, the occasional sigh reaching her ears that makes her smile with smug triumph. When she finds a particularly persistent knot she increases the pressure of her stroke eliciting a grunt. 
“Gods, sorry,” she murmurs hastily, easing her touch to rest lightly against his warm skin, feeling her cheeks flush with chagrin at her over enthusiasm. Halsin merely shakes his head. He turns his face to eye her with a gentle smile, the hazel of his eyes dark against the backdrop of the firelight.
“Nothing to apologize for,” he assures her softly. “I am quite unharmed. Continue if you wish.” 
Trusting he’s not merely humoring her she resumes her ministrations with more care. She devotes her attention to increasing the pressure when necessary with exacting precision. Working her way across his shoulders until she comes to the tight line of muscles branching up his neck. Each stroke is steady and firm. 
Between the monotony of the movements and the intensity of her focus it’s some time before she realizes he hasn’t turned a page in a while. His shoulders are lax and when she strokes a thumb up the nape of his neck he leans into it, only slightly, as if unconsciously. 
Tav is not unaware of the intimacy of the moment. She’d put her own lustful thoughts in a box and buried it deep in the back of her mind since his gentle rebuffment of her clumsy advances at the tiefling party. An entire age ago from this moment, but it springs open now. 
With a detached sort of curiosity, as if she is watching her hands from outside herself she runs deft fingers through his hair and scratches at the delicate skin at the base of his scalp. He shivers and releases a sound that is more akin to a sensation rumbling up from his chest and buzzing along her fingertips like electricity. It feels like crossing an invisible line. 
The druid and the ranger still, as if both caught together in a web they don’t quite know how to navigate. He doesn’t move away and, pulse suddenly hammering in her throat, Tav rests her hands on the top of his shoulders gently. She drags the pads of her fingers down his back, skimming the warmth of his body and he exhales heavily, a sound that travels up Tav’s spine with expectation. An ache begins to bloom inside her core, a greedy hunger that flexes and curls under her skin with intoxicating heat and intent. 
“My my, isn’t this cozy?” 
The dulcet tone of Astarion’s voice breaks the delicate thread of something that had risen up between them like the sharp crack of a snapping live wire and Tav jerks her hands away guiltily, embarrassment drowning out the previous brief flickerings of passion. 
“Astarion,” she greets and hopes he doesn’t pick up on the breathless waver in her tone. No such luck, his red eyes practically gleam in the dim evening light as he takes them in by the fire. She clears her throat, her scattering thoughts tangling in on themselves while she looks for solid ground. “What are you–”
“Second watch, darling.” The vampire’s expression is too sharp, too knowing. “Off to bed you pop. Our fearless leader should be well rested for the journey ahead.” 
Halsin stirs from his place on the ground, shifting and rising as if lumbering out of a trance. “Of course,” he says and offers his hand to pull her up from the log. “It’s later than I realized. Forgive me.” 
Whatever spell had enthralled them is broken and the look in his eye is friendly, polite. It burns more than the embarrassment had. Her hand is still in his and she withdraws it, feeling uncertain of her footing and hating it. 
“Gentlemen.” She feels like she’s still mentally gathering the parts of her that had spilled out and stuffing it all inside a deep dark hole inside herself. An easier task if she also didn’t feel like instead of flesh, her entire person was made of sticky goop. “See you in the morning.” 
“Sweet dreams, dear,” Astarion calls out to her, something in his dark voice suggestive. She raises a hand without looking back and beats a hasty retreat. 
The air is cold now, especially away from the fire. Curling up in her little makeshift tent, Tav does little to resist the memory of being wrapped in the warm glow of the druid’s body heat. She stares at the ceiling of her little world and wonders what the hell was that. 
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darknight3904 · 6 months
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It Burns For You Part 3 Teaser
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Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The way the sun just barely peaked through the curtains and shimmered its way across the bedspread made your shared room with Coriolanus look simply divine.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. The delicious scent of bacon and freshly cooked pancakes wafted through the mansion and under your closed door. The promise of fresh orange juice and perfectly hot coffee was enough to rouse anyone from their slumber.
Mornings might just be your favorite time of day. Coriolanus is still asleep beside you. Curly hair is splayed on the pillow, free from whatever styling gel he put in it. His face is relaxed and peaceful as you run your fingertips across his forehead and down the bridge of his nose. The stress of being president is gone from his face when he sleeps and that's how you know, mornings are your favorite time of day.
"I can feel you staring at me."
His voice was still muddled with sleep, deep and scratchy as he batted at your hands trying to keep them off his gorgeous face.
"I'm appreciating the art in front of me," You smile as he finally opens his eyes.
"Your hands on my face are making my nose itch." He says grabbing your right hand and gently squeezing it as he sits up beside you.
You hum a tune of acknowledgment and take in his appearance. Coriolanus' pale skin was a wonderful sight to behold as the blanket slipped and fell into his lap.
"You're staring again." He says playing with your fingers
"An incredibly attractive man seems to be missing his shirt, can you blame me for staring?" You state a playful smile pulling on your lips.
Coriolanus lets out a snort and gets out of bed with a grunt. Long red scratches adorn his back as you watch your fiancee walk across the room towards the bathroom, ready to scrub last night's activities off himself.
Yes, mornings were your favorite time of day. You had warm sunshine, delicious food, and Coriolanus by your side.
The rest of this is out now check my Masterlist!
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Guys I'm sorry this took so long to get out, I had to take my college finals (which i passed whoo-hoo) and then I like rotted in my bed and watched Game of Thrones instead of writing.
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