#diluc/reader

[stinkkyy]

the creator falls (out of a tree) for diluc

Now why the hell was Diluc back here.

There wasn’t a real reason other than he had taken a walk that had ended up with him at this big ass tree again.

As he stands at the base of the statue to Barbatos, he feels a tug at his heart. It had been happening a lot more lately, this pulling. The tug at his heart as if somebody was at the other end of the string, gently urging him to go somewhere or do something.

So here he was at a statue for a God he admired and a tree dedicated to a woman who now protects all of Mondstadt silently.

He crosses his arms and glares up at the tree. “Well? I’m here now, what do you want from me?”

Diluc stands there for just a moment longer, secretly expecting a response but of course nothing comes from it.

He sighs, looking away from the tree feeling rather embarrassed for having such a wish.

With nothing left to do but try and enjoy his day out, he goes to sit at the base of the tree. He slumps against it, one leg folded up and the other splayed out before him. Diluc rests his head along the tree as he watches the clouds in the sky.

He felt like a fool.

For the past month or so he had been.. Strangely content. Happier than usual. That in itself would normally be cause for celebration but with such happiness came an unease.

Jean chalked it up to allergies, his immune system never favored the summer weather.

Lisa suggested that perhaps he was in love. That was the last time he’d ever come to her for advice.

Kaeya had a certain look in his eye. It told him that his past brother likely knew the ailed him but chose not to answer truthfully, only giving a rather cryptic response.

Venti was the only one who had given something halfway decent but even then it was bullshit upon more bullshit.

“Follow whatever is pulling your heart along and go talk to it! That will solve everything and who knows, maybe love will consume you and everything will be answered!”

Diluc snorts haughtily at himself as he remembers the bards words. Sure he was a god but he didn’t have to sound so annoying about it, former crush or no.

Before he could have anymore time to think about it there was a voice calling out to him from above.

“Hey! Hey hey, you there, D-! D..... Theee stranger in red!”

“… Excuse me?”

“Yeah you! Hey uh, I’m in a bit of pickle right now so you think you can help?”

Diluc looked up to where the voice was located and felt his heart freeze. The tugging had become stronger than it ever had before, so sharp and pointed like it was going to rip apart any second now.

The owner of the voice was covered by the leaves and branches of the tree but if he focused he could make out the outline of their body but even that was hard.

Whoever they were just might be the answer he had been searching for.

More leaves and twigs fell down onto his lap and he grunts in annoyance when he flicks them away. “How can I help you, stranger.”

A pause. “How confident are you in catching a person?”

“Depends on how high up said person is and considering we’re practicing yelling at one another, I’d say you’re rather high up.”

Another pause followed by quiet, nervous laughter. Another sigh. “Yeah.. Right on the mon- On the mora. Yeah.”

Diluc resigns himself to his fate and slips off his jacket, letting it fall into the floor as he tries to coordinate himself to wherever they must be hanging out at.

“Let’s get this over with then.”

“Wh- You’ll help me? Seriously??”

He glares up at them, a bit offended. “You assumed I wouldn’t?”

“W-Well…”

“Get down already before I leave you stuck up there.”

“Okay okay! Gimme a second, okay? This is a really high fall!!”

“You’ll be fine.”

Diluc huffs as he listens to the rustling of the branches, gauging how soon this stranger would jump down from the tree. Really, he had better things to be doing other than attempting to catch somebody from a tree like-

“Huh..” The more he tries to think of what he could be doing with his time he realizes he can’t come up with anything. For some reason, all he wants to do is stick by this stranger and see this through to the end.

He places a hand at his heart, jaw clenching slightly as he thinks it over. And then there was that whole thing where the longing at his heart was pulling him closer to whoever this person was. 

Were the two connected somehow?

He doesn’t have time to think about it for much longer until he hears the strangers voice yell out something that has him on his guard.

“Wait-!”

“Aaand three!! AH-“

Diluc widens his stance and holds his arms out wide for them, grunting when they land in his arms at last, though he does falter back just a bit. That is the last time he will ever catch somebody from a tree ever again.

He growls lowly in his annoyance, a glare locked and loaded on his face as he looks to the person but whatever scolding he had ready to dish out die in the back of his throat when he lays eyes on them.

They’re smiling. It’s a big toothy grin with their eyes filled with stars, their entire being glowing the world up in a way he could never properly put into words.

“You’re Diluc,” the say with a giddy laugh. “The Diluc Ragnivinder!”

And yet he’s still just staring at them like a fish out of water

He comes to his senses and clears his throat, easing them into their feet as he fights a wicked flush off of his cheeks.

“It’s Ragnvindr, actually.” He finally says, not really caring for their incorrect pronunciation, eyes never leaving their form.

The tugging at his heart was pulled taut and it was headed straight towards them. This had to be why he had decided to come here. For them. Diluc swears he can recognize their face from somewhere but he can’t place it. 

All he knows is that he feels so unbelievably loved and cherished.

“Got a staring problem, Master Diluc? C’mon, lemme thank you for saving my tail somehow!”

Diluc snaps out of his daydream as a ghost of a smile breaks onto his lips, nodding. “You wear clothes not of his nation, dirty ones at that. I will have lunch prepared for us at my home..”

“Wh- Man.. You’re a lot more stern than I had expected…” They grumble but dutifully follow by his side.

His heart pounds wildly in his chest as the pieces begin to connect themselves and while Diluc was not the most devoted follower to the gods anymore, you would have to be a fool to not eventually realize that you are standing besides The Creator.

A god who had been absent for thousands of years and only now resurfaced.

A god that will cause a stir in the world if left unchecked.

A god that has his heart pounding, face flushed, and palms sweaty.

“The Dawn Winery?” They squeak out. “Really?? Aaah man Diluc, you’re amazing! I can’t wait!”

Yes, to keep them to himself for a little while longer wouldn't hurt. He’s doing this to protect them, nothing else.

[glimmeringtwilight]

Forgive Me, Forgive Me | Vampire!Diluc x Reader

i'll add a pretty banner in the morning but here's the halloween diluc piece! vampire diluc because I'm basic (it just Works! It just Works!!! I believe in vampire diluc supremacy). Reader is a monster hunter :]

Word Count: 3.6k

CW: AFAB READER, NSFT, noncon, blood, violence, injury, kidnapping, yandere themes, biting, aphrodisiacs (kinda), blood loss. Use of the word "lovely" as a descriptor for the reader.

Sometimes you wonder what would have become of you, if monsters didn’t exist.

On long, quiet nights like this one, you entertain the idea: what would you do? Where would you work? Would you travel? 

Sometimes you see yourself adventuring; traveling the world and helping others along the way. And though you do travel now, you’re sure it would be much, much different, without monsters to hunt and beasts to kill.  

You’d travel during the day, for a start– not hidden under the cover of nightfall, chasing down something with claws and horns and sharp teeth through the outskirts of a small, tormented town and into the forest. You’re sure many of the places you’ve traveled to in this line of work are beautiful in the daylight, but you’ll never know. 

You’d be able to sleep at night, too. Rather than sleeping during the day, in the scarce hours of sunlight that winter affords, and rising as the sun dips below the horizon. 

Life would be simpler. Safer. You wouldn’t need to bandage quite so many cuts and suck the venom out of quite so many bites. 

But it’s wishful thinking; an impossible fantasy, just out of reach. A neverending “what if.” 

So your nights are spent like this: on snow-dusted rooftops, cracked shingles and shifting bricks threatening to collapse under you as you look out onto the dark alley below. 

Tonight is especially cold; frost nipping your fingers through the thick gloves and a cold wind cutting through the seams in your coat to raise gooseflesh along your skin.  

Worse, though, is the silence. Usually in towns like this, there’s at least one or two drunkards stumbling home from the tavern, singing some disjointed, slurred tune. Or there’s the chirp of crickets, the distant call of an owl– something to fill the empty air. 

Tonight, there’s nothing. Just silence, stretching on for miles– as dead as the winter. 

That is, until-

Crunch. 

You duck low against the rooftop, peering over the edge and ignoring the cold bite of snow seeping into your jacket. It’s hard to see in the darkness– there’s not much snow to help reflect the waning moonlight– but you catch a glimpse of red hair as the figure of a man darts quickly through the alley. 

Vampire, they’d told you when you’d taken up this commission. Look for red hair. 

There’s your monster, then.

You jump over the ledge, into the alley, bending your knees as you land. You’re not sure if it heard you, but you don’t have the time to dwell on it, instead giving chase after the retreating figure. They turn a corner, you turn it a second later, and they’re gone. 

The shallow footprints in the snow stop a few feet in front of you, but there’s no sign of them. You turn your gaze up towards the rooftops overhead and there’s nothing still. 

Sighing, you do a quick sweep of the surrounding area, finding no trace that there’s anyone here but you. Whatever it is, is already long gone. Those Knights better pay you double for this, you think, as you clamber back up onto another rooftop and wait.

The night is spent watching from rooftops and seeing no other signs of life except for your own. When the sun starts to peek over the horizon again, you cut your losses and head for the inn. 

The next night, you swap your boots for something lighter, less noisy. It won’t keep out the cold, but you’ll live. You do the same with your jacket, swapping it for a darker and quieter material, hoping that tonight you’ll be able to sneak up on it before it slips away again.

You can see why the knights that supposedly protect this city can’t seem to kill the thing themselves– the skittish ones are always the hardest to catch. But you won’t let it deter you; you’re going to kill it, get paid, and then move on to the next town. 

There is one thing that bothers you about this whole ordeal: the Knights insisted, when they commissioned you for this job, that the most it’s ever done was bite people. A few of the townsfolk tell you that it watches over the city, protecting them from worse things. 

You’d scoffed. Yeah, right. All vampires ever know how to do, in your experience, is kill. They drink their victims dry; leave their corpses out to cool for some unfortunate soul to find in the morning. 

You feel bad for the poor, delusional townspeople who believe that. You know better– the only good vampire is a dead one. 

…Still. You wonder why it didn’t attack you, if it heard you coming last night. 

Tonight, you perch on a different rooftop, closer to the side gate of the city and hidden behind the cover of a smoking chimney. You tuck your nose into the collar of your coat to keep from breathing in too much smoke and to keep warm against the winter chill. 

It’s silent again tonight, too. You wonder if the vampire attacks have successfully spooked the drunkards into sobering up until it blows over. Maybe the Knights instated a curfew. 

It’s for the better, you think. At least there’s less worry of civilians getting hurt while you hunt it. 

Much like the night before, you sit in silence on the cold rooftop, straining your ears for a sound. And much like last night, you hear the crunch of footsteps in the snow, see a glimpse of red hair. 

Unlike last night, however, the figure doesn’t make it past the alley– instead, you hear a grunt of surprise, the shriek of wires pulling taut. Unlike last night, you also set a trap. As you jump to your feet and land in the alley, you see that it worked. 

A ways down, you see him struggling, tangled in a mess of wires. You quickly close the distance, drawing your sword. 

Vermillion eyes meet your own and you freeze. 

…You know him. From the first day you came here– you know him. 

When you’d first arrived, you’d stumbled onto his estate– he’d given you directions to the city. At the time you were surprised he was awake, so late in the night, but you get it now. The winery heir– what was his name–

“...Diluc.” Something like despair paints his features as you mutter his name, as though the dim recognition on your face wasn’t damning enough. “That’s what you said your name was, right?”

He doesn’t say anything– just shifts his weight, gets a knee under him. You raise your sword, realizing too late that the trap must not have triggered properly; he shouldn’t have his hands free like that–

Diluc stands, rushes towards you, and you hardly have the time to take in a stuttered breath before you’re being slammed against the wall on the opposite side of the alleyway. Your head cracks against brick, vision scattering with stars for a brief moment, but you force your sword upward, driving it just below his shoulder. 

The man hisses, grabbing you by the jaw just as you yank your sword free to attack him again, and slams your head against the brick a second time. 

You black out. It’s only for a few seconds, but when you come to, you’re already on the ground, sword kicked out of your reach.

He flips you over onto your stomach, taking ahold of one of your wrists. You feel nauseous. Your head swims as you strain to focus on the polished boots in your vision, to regain your senses. Sluggishly, you blink, feeling a tug on your other wrist. 

“I’m sorry,” He tells you after a beat. He sounds far away.

Gloved hands hook underneath you and you thrash, trying to bring your arms in front of you and realizing he must have tied them together. 

“I’m sorry,” He repeats, hauling you over his shoulder as you squirm and hiss, “I don’t want to do this.”

“Fuck you,” You spit, “Monster.”

“I know,” He says, solemn. “I don’t want to hurt anyone-” You stiffen and he rushes to clarify– “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Yeah, right,” Your vision is well and truly swimming by now, blurring sharply at the edges. It’s hard to get the words out, “And what– what of the townspeople… you attacked?”

His grip on you tightens, but he doesn’t reply, carrying you past the city gate now. It’s a struggle to stay conscious, but you fight to stay awake, if only to say your piece before he kills you. 

“You’re a threat. As long as you live, you’re a threat to these innocent people-”

You hear him shudder in a breath through clenched teeth. “I know.”

Do you? You want to say. You want to argue, to thrash and scream and make him regret not gagging you, since there’s nothing else you can do, but… You cannot fight off the exhaustion sinking in as the adrenaline dulls, as a throbbing, aching headache sets in; as the darkness fuzzing your vision overtakes the shrinking view of the city– of polished boots treading through snow. 

Before unconsciousness takes you, you realize something. 

…Where are the Knights? 

When you come to, you’re surprised to still be alive. 

What’s unsurprising, however, is the rope around your wrists and ankles, the gag forced between your teeth, knotted so tight you can feel a pressure headache building beneath the throbbing pain of what is already surely a concussion. 

You’ve been placed awkwardly on your side in what is undoubtedly a wine cellar, the smell of wine thick in the air. There’s barrels stacked on either side of you, reaching to the ceiling.

Through the slats in the shelves you can see rows and rows of barrels to your left, brick wall to your right. You think you must be in the back of the room, then, farthest from the door. To prevent you from escaping or to ensure nobody hears you down here, you don’t know. 

Nobody comes for you when you kick at the barrels, making as much noise as you can. Nobody hears you as you kick and kick and kick, praying that a shelf will slip, a barrel will fall and make a mess, a sound– but nobody comes. The ropes hold firm, unyielding to your struggling. There’s nothing to do but wait.

So you wait. 

You try to come up with a plan– something to get yourself out of this, but what do you do? In your line of work, the smallest mistakes can mean life or death. Ordinarily, the fact that you’re still breathing would be a victory in itself, but is it, anymore?

You’re locked in a vampire’s wine cellar. Nobody is coming for you. Nobody knows you’re down here, you’re sure, except for him. There’s not many reasons a vampire might keep you alive– the most glaring one makes your stomach churn with unease.

You need to get out of here. 

But with nothing left to do, you settle back down uncomfortably on your side and close your eyes. Sleep is a welcome reprieve from the heavy ache behind your eyes, in your jaw, and the stiffness of your joints. You dream of nothing. 

The next time you wake, you’re being coaxed into an upright position by gloved hands. 

“I’m sorry,” A voice says. You blink the sleep from your eyes, recognizing the vampire from last night. “I know this seems bad, but I swear I don’t intend to hurt you.”

He hesitates, a scrap of fabric clenched tight in one of his hands. Blearily, you wonder what it’s for, but you get your answer when he sets it over your eyes, tying a tight knot behind your head to keep it fastened there. 

Cold fingers replace the gloves, running tentatively over your scalp until they brush something raw and painful. You hiss through the gag and he pulls away, muttering another quiet apology. 

“I’m going to clean your wound.” He says. You don’t bother acknowledging him, biting down on the gag instead at the first touch of the damp rag against the injury.

“This isn’t permanent,” He explains as he dabs gingerly at your injury with the cloth- “I… just need some time to convince you to keep this secret.”

And if I don’t? You want to ask. You suspect you know the answer, anyway. The room lapses into silence, interrupted by the occasional hiss of pain that slips through your gag.

He’s gentle about it, for what little it’s worth to you given the circumstances. Gentle, but you don’t miss the shaky inhale as the rag’s pulled away, the flex in his fingers of waning self-restraint as he turns you around to get a better look at your wound. 

Nothing happens, for a beat. You can practically feel him shudder behind you–

“Forgive me,” He’s starting to sound like a broken record at this point, “I shouldn’t… but you smell so good.”

Immediately you jerk against the grip on your biceps, fervently shaking your head no, no, no. 

“It won’t hurt,” He promises, voice hoarse, hushing you when you muffle out a protest through the gag, “I’m sorry. You don’t know what it’s like–” Fingers card through your hair, tilting your head back while his other arm winds around you, crushing you against his chest and knocking the air from your lungs– “this hunger. Forgive me–”

You struggle as much as you can manage; you can’t let him, you can’t–

Cold breath against your throat, chased by searing hot pain. You scream around the gag, try to pull away, but he just holds you tighter. Blood drips down your neck, staining the collar of your shirt. You feel dizzy. 

After a few moments, the pain fades. It’s still quietly there– still the sense of something horribly wrong, the foreign sensation of fangs cleaving through skin, but it’s chased away by an unbearable heat spreading from where Diluc’s mouth latches onto your throat.

You go lax against him. Against your better judgement, you tilt your head back further, thoughts fuzzing with the way he groans into your throat. …Why were you so worried, again?

He pulls back just enough to rasp, “See? That wasn’t so bad,” against your neck. He sounds just as lost as you feel. 

You feel light. There’s a chill sinking in as he drinks from you, overtaking the heat as pins and needles start to spread through your limbs. 

Diluc seems remiss to pull away when you slump forward, lashes fluttering against your cheeks beneath the blindfold. The sensations are disjointed; faraway and distant.

Maybe he’s apologizing again, with the soft brush of lips you distantly feel against the weeping injury. It hurts again, raw and sore, but you can’t find the energy to care. There’s still a deep-seated ache under your skin, brighter than the pain of your injuries. 

Hands smooth over your sides and you arch against him, choking out a whine. It’s both too much and not enough, that low burning ember from his bite swallowed by the maelstrom his touch brings. 

The air is heady with the scent of your blood and wine, so thick you can almost taste it on your tongue through the gag.

“It’s okay,” The monster holding you murmurs, breathing heavy against your nape, “I know it hurts. I’ll help you through it.”

Were you in a more sober state of mind, you’d thrash and spit and curse him to the Abyss– shatter the faux concern he slips on like a glove. Instead, you lean into the hand that combs through your hair, shuddering at the curl of fingers against your hip. 

There’s a pause– cold breath and a mouth hot with your blood pressing against your neck as you feel his lips forming another apology, but it dies on his lips with your drying blood.

Diluc slides a hand underneath your shirt, cool digits sending electric shocks across fevered, clammy skin. His other remains at your hip, gripping it nearly tight enough to bruise while he mouths lazily at the blood weeping from his bite.

The sound that rips from your throat when those fingers find a nipple is obscene, but you’re too lost to care. The sensation of calloused fingers pinching and rolling your nipples into stiff peaks sends a bolt of heat straight to your core, almost unbearable in its intensity. 

He’s not apologizing anymore, either– no hoarse apologies against your ear as he pinches and tugs harshly on your aching buds. Perhaps he was never sorry. 

A rough hand finds its way beneath your waistband, cupping the heat of your sex. There’s a shuddering breath behind you, sucked in through gritted teeth. You can smell the blood on his breath still, stinging your nose. 

“Gods, you’re…” Diluc exhales heavily through his nose, raising gooseflesh along the back of your neck. The hand on your chest clenches again, fingers curling achingly into sensitive flesh. 

Your pants are tugged unceremoniously down your legs, stopped only by the rope still around your ankles. The action has the vampire curling around your further, blood and wine and the faint smell of smoke overwhelming your senses briefly. 

Diluc moves out from behind you, bracing a hand against your spine to gently ease you to lie back on the floor. The position is awkward– your bound arms ache from the position, your back forced into an arch. 

His touch leaves you and you’re left cold for a few torturous moments before you feel calloused hands digging into the meat of your thighs, nudging them apart as much as the rope will allow. He’s warm now, and you think it’s just from your own body heat for a moment– but his touch is almost searing; abnormally hot. 

Thumbs rub circles on the inside of your thighs as you feel Diluc settle overtop your legs, hooking one of his own under your knee to keep them spread. 

You hold your breath as his hand inches closer to your sex, stopping to fumble with the thin fabric of your underwear before that’s pulled down too– not as far, but enough to bare your dripping entrance.

He leans over you, shielding you from the worst of the room’s chill, as a calloused finger slides easily inside you. Immediately you clench down around him, gasping around the gag. 

“You’re so very warm,” He breathes, leaning down to scrape fangs dangerously against the unmarred skin on the other side of your throat. Another finger joins the first and you groan, arching up into him. 

Pleasure builds, sharp and hot, in your core– you nearly sob when he thumbs over your clit. Diluc’s mouth latches onto the crux between your throat and your shoulder, laving hot kisses against the sensitive skin there.

Another half-hearted apology spills from his lips before those fangs sink into your skin once more. His pleasured groan matches your own, the hand still clamped around your thigh tightening to a bruising degree.

When he presses a third finger inside you, your head lolls back, breath catching in your chest. Diluc curls his fingers inside you in time with the thumb rolling over your clit, and you tip right over the cresting heat that’s been building in your gut.

Euphoria washes over you, intense and bright and suffocating– you arch sharply into him, the gag muffling the pleasured sob that cracks from your throat. 

He eases you through it, pumping his fingers into your heat until you’re whimpering and trying to squirm away with oversensitivity. 

Diluc pulls his fingers from you, curling his other arm around you and turning you around to lie on your front. His coat is shrugged off and tucked under you, cushioning you from the hard floor. 

The heat cooling in your gut starts to sour as you come back down from the high, exhaustion and pain readily taking its place. The bites on your throat sting fiercely, the throbbing pain behind your eyes returning with a fury. 

Distantly, you’re aware of the vampire hiking up your hips, the motion jostling you and exacerbating the dull agony taking hold. 

You must make a pained noise, because Diluc hushes you, breath shuddering as you feel something blunt nestle between your thighs. “You’re okay– it’s okay.”

One arm coils around your thighs, pressing them together, and he groans against your ear. His hips cant forward, cock dragging over your sex with the movement and jostling you in turn. Pain throbs anew at the motion, drawing a pained whine from your throat.

“Lovely.” Hair tickles the back of your neck as he leans over you, panting. He sets a desperate pace, hips snapping against your own so hard it stings. “You’re so– nnh– so lovely.”

He’s uncomfortably hot against your skin. You realize you can’t feel your fingers, numbness creeping up your arms. You’re so, so tired. Each motion of his hips drags you back from the release of sleep that threatens to overtake you. You feel your blood seeping into his coat, the fabric turning tacky against your skin. 

Diluc’s hips stutter, something warm and wet splattering against your thighs. You hear him groan lowly, feel his weight slump against you after a moment. Why is he so warm?

“...I’m sorry.” His voice breaks you out of the light doze you’ve slipped into, but it feels like his voice slips right through you, like sand through a sieve. “It will ache, for a while. You get used to the cold.”

…What? Blearily, you try to focus– to shake the exhaustion sinking in like poison. It doesn’t work. As your consciousness fades, you hear him say:

“You’ll hate me for this–” He sounds exhausted, resigned as he says this– “but you can’t go to the Knights if you’re a monster, too.”

[wearyeyebrow]

Hidden in Lace

Summary: Diluc internalizes the various roles he's meant to play, but what would it be to listen to his own desires? A night of trying something new turns into an intimate discussion with you. NotSFW leaning but nothing explicit. Tags under the cut.

Tags: lingerie, implied sub Diluc, discussion, implied sex, romance, gn reader, established relationship, hurt/comfort

-

It's late in the evening at the Dawn Winery and you're pouring over your work, holed up in Diluc's study. Diluc's purposeful footfall notifies his return and the clink of china tells you he's refilled your teacup. You sigh and stretch before taking an appreciative sip. He's pulled another tome forward, sifting through the glossary, when his deep voice breaks the silence.

"Your birthday is next month - is there anything you'd like?" 

You hum and mark your place with a finger. "Huh. I can't think of anything… wait-" your eyes light up. "Actually, there is something I want, but only if you're comfortable with it." 

His brow furrows. "What do you mean?" 

"Well... I - you see, I've always wanted to see you in a set of lingerie. Would you mind if I bought you some?"

Diluc pauses for a moment, hand hovering in mid air, "...You want to buy me something for your birthday?" 

"Well that, in and of itself, wouldn't be my present. You'd be allowing me to see you in whatever I buy - that's the gift." 

"But... you could have-" he coughs into his hand and looks askance, "No matter. I can get you something and... also do that for you, if that's what you really want." 

"Really?" You can't completely hide your delight.

He shrugs, attempting to feign nonchalance. "It's hardly fair buying someone else a present for your birthday."

"That means... you don't mind? Wearing what I pick out?" 

"I reserve the right to say no upon seeing it."

"Of course. You're allowed to say no to the whole thing too, you know?" 

He's quick to reassure, a faint smile on his lips. "I know - it was just a reminder for myself."

"Nervous?" 

"...Preemptively unsure, maybe." 

You close your book and set it on the table with a thud. "It's just a fantasy of mine. I love the look of lace and I love what you look like even more. The two go really well together in my mind's eye." 

He cocks an eyebrow, expression incredulous, maybe a little cheeky. "Oh? So you've thought about this before...?"

You smile wide, unabashed. "Indeed - especially when we've been unable to see each other for awhile. You are one of my favorite fantasies." The slight color of his cheeks contrasts with a slightly scandalized expression. "Now that you've tentatively agreed, can I take your measurements?"

-

A few weeks later and you're waiting for him to open the dressing room door, leg bouncing in anticipation. He seemed a little hesitant when you handed him the set but you just know it'll look stunning on him. 

He calls out to you, voice muffled by the dressing room door. "I believe I've managed to put it on, it's... it's a bit... I'm not sure if it suits me." 

"I'll have to see it on to decide whether I agree, right?" 

"...Would it be alright if I come out in slacks, just to start?" 

"Of course - do anything that makes you feel comfortable, and that includes calling it off." 

There's a pause in conversation, and just when you're about to ask if he's okay, the dressing room door creaks open.

Oil lamp light flickers across the wall, lighting up his body as he enters the bedroom. Your breath catches in your chest, and your words die in your throat. 

His slacks are black, pressed well and tight to his thighs. They're held up with a leather belt and silver buckle. They sit low on his hips, just below the tips of his hip bones, and you can see the delicate trail of hair that reaches his navel. The top is made of jet black lace, delicate, but there's some weight to it. The lace has a soft, almost scalloped edge, hugging the curves and concaves of his chest. The fabric drapes over his body, as if it's meant to be there. It's intricate and stunning, embellished with tiny facets of white crystal, catching and shimmering even in the dim light.

He clears his throat at your silence. You try and blink away the sudden fog clouding your mind. 

"Come here, love." You rasp, barely recognizing the sound of your own voice. He does as you ask and you rise to meet him. You drink him in, hands softly sliding against the fabric. His breath hitches at your touch, but he is otherwise silent. You finally find his face after roaming his body with hunger in your eyes. He's flushed a beautiful red, head tilted to the side, avoiding the heaviness of your gaze. 

"Darling," you murmur, and his eyes flicker to your face, "You look stunning. Words rarely fail me, but I am having trouble articulating just how beautiful you look in this." He blushes impossibly red still, slightly overwhelmed, and maybe just... slightly uncomfortable? You pause.

"I guess I've never really asked, even though I've said it lots of times. Do you like it when I call you beautiful? Or would you prefer something else?" 

"I..." he clears his throat, "I am unsure how to respond." You look at him with concern. "It..." he breathes out, and even in the complete privacy of your bedroom he can only manage a whisper. "I do like it. But... I don't feel like I should." 

You gently prompt him to sit on the edge of the bed with you. "Do you wanna talk about it for a bit?" 

He wilts slightly, "I will do my best, but I'm afraid it's - it's quite nonsensical, or rather, it's really not worth any emotional weight." 

"Even so, it seems to weigh on you. Talking about it might help, if you want to."

"But… even now?" He gestures to himself.

"Especially now, if something's bothering you."

He sighs and almost reluctantly sits next to you. "...The piece you picked out is very well made, and it - it fits well." 

You nod. "I got it with you in mind and had it tailored for your measurements." 

"That…" he sighs, still flushed red but now turned inward. "I'm glad, I'm thrilled even-" 

"You don't sound thrilled." 

"Truly I am. It's just hard to acknowledge that to myself."

You soften your voice. "What do you mean?" 

He sighs. "There are certain... images? Ideals might be more accurate, that I have always been meant for, what I should like, how I should act. I feel… like a disappointment, when I find myself unable to live up to those ideals." He sighs again, eyes fixated on the carpet, "The more time I spend with you romantically the more I find myself enjoying every aspect of it, especially those that I am not supposed to like. I… was actually really looking forward to tonight." His voice trails off. 

"Was my request a little too much..? It's okay if it was."

He shakes his head and reflexively kisses your hand, voice low. "No - it's nothing you did, I - I'm just in my head all of the time, so hung up on - on..." his shoulders drop, and he sighs, as if resigned. "I am my own person. I am not beholden to the opinions of others in any other area of my life, and yet... it feels I'm doing something I shouldn't."

"Have you always felt this way when having sex with me?"

"Certainly not."

"Then… do you remember when you started feeling this way?"

"We were both figuring things out in the beginning. You graciously went through the motions with me -"

"It wasn't about being gracious-"

"I know, I'm sorry, that was the wrong way to put it. It's more accurate to say that our courtship began traditionally." He chuckles suddenly, "Well, not completely, you were the one who approached me, for which I am thankful." You squeeze his hand. "But more recently, our - the dynamic has shifted and..." He grimaces, "Whatever the hell that means - gods, the more I say it out loud the more trivial it all sounds." 

Your brow furrows. "But if it's bothering you, it's important."

He sighs. "It just - I want to make sense of why I feel this way. I know that you and I are the only people in our relationship. What we do together is ours and ours alone. Yet I... I feel like I shouldn't enjoy it."

"What, exactly, do you feel like you shouldn't enjoy?" You ask softly, hoping he'll elaborate. 

A gentle shade of red creeps down his neck and he falls onto his back. The bed feels nice and cool against his flushed skin. You shift onto your elbow and give him some time to think. You watch his adam’s apple rise and fall as he swallows. 

"Even in Mondstadt, the city of freedom, decorum is held in high esteem. There are roles certain people are meant to play, burdens to bear. So I… I feel like I shouldn't enjoy it when we're intimate and I - I don't have to worry about anything, when I don't have to think, I can only be myself, and there's- there's no danger, it's just us." He flushes all the way down his chest and averts his gaze, "When you call me pretty, and you direct me, and you... you praise me for doing as you’ve asked. It - I've never felt…” he tapers off, biting his tongue even in the midst of his confession. “In the back of my mind there's this voice saying that I'm being too much, too needy, I don't know the word for it. Unbecoming, maybe." His eyes flicker back and forth as he gazes at a spot of nothing on the ceiling. "______, you know why I changed the trajectory of my life and why I keep the details under wraps. I feel as though, even when I enjoy something so much, it does not fit the role I'm supposed to play, and therefore I shouldn't enjoy it." He smiles wryly, "Or maybe I'm misjudging the situation. Maybe I'm just awful in bed."

You shift onto your side and rest your head against his stomach, idly tracing your finger over and through the lace on his chest. His skin is warm and your voice is gentle.

"You’re wonderful in bed, but even if you weren't it'd hardly matter, that isn't why I care for you. I'd rather ask, is this how you want to enjoy intimacy?" 

There's a beat of silence. His chest dips with every slow breath he takes. 

"Yes." 

"Me too." You seek out his hand amongst the covers and intertwine your fingers. "I don’t know if this will help but… I've never lived up to my 'potential,' I've rarely been what people have wanted, in vague terms anyway." He frowns but continues to listen, "I've tried, you know, to be what they wanted, but I couldn't even do that - that's when I realized that it's all futile. I'm…' you breathe in deeply, "I'm not going to censor myself for the sake of someone else's ideals or vision of me, especially since it never works, because, no matter what, I always come up short. But with the right people, with you, with others like me, those 'shoulds' matter less and less.” He squeezes your hand and you squeeze back.

You turn and meet his eyes. "To me, you're just Diluc. You're loyal and thoughtful, you care for moral causes and you work too hard. You have my back whether we’re fighting or resting together. I love all of that about you. And I also love you like this, when I call you pretty and your ears turn red, when you look at me like - like I'm… heh." 

You shift up onto your stomach. He feels your tender hands start to run through his hair, separating any snags onto the bedspread below. 

"You're allowed to enjoy yourself and you're allowed to feel pleasure - before anything that you are, you're a person. I don't expect any more of you than what you willingly give." 

He breathes out and sits up slowly, blinking slightly as he adjusts to the dim glow of the oil lamp. His gaze flits between your eyes and his calloused fingers run up and down your arm. His voice is hushed and a little unsure.

"...What if it's still hard to convince myself of those things?"

You tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear. "Truthfully, I don't know. I think you deserve the world, but… I'm not sure how you convince yourself. Maybe I'm also looking for the answer to that question." 

You rest your hand against his cheek and he tilts, capturing it with his own to place a reverent kiss to your palm. His eyebrows furrow and he rests his forehead against your intertwined hands.

"I think I've said all I can put into words tonight. Thank you for listening. I have a lot to think about, but I feel more at peace with myself. May I come to you again after I've given it more thought?" 

"You can come to me with anything, anytime." 

"Please know I reserve the same space for you."

His eyes close as you place a gentle kiss to his forehead. He feels you lightly tug at the garment he's wearing. 

"Would you like to save this for another night?" 

He bites his lip, as if he just realized he's still wearing it. 

“I… I did say that I've been looking forward to tonight.”

You smirk, “So you're okay to continue? I hardly know what to do with myself, you just… you look so good in lace, I knew you would.”

He can't meet your eyes but the red tips of his ears give him away.

You run a hand over the fabric. “Do you like it, Diluc?”

“...I do,” he whispers, "Archons I do."

[memory-mortis]

oh yeah i'm back at writing btw

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42143676/chapters/105806529

[danijaci]

"jealous, jealous, jealous boyy.." ft. diluc

bro was discombobulated

[bwabys-scenarios]

NSFW

Keeping you plugged up with his cock was one of his favorite activities. Wanting to keep his cock warm was just the excuse he used, the real reason was his increasing need to breed.

“Shh, princess… you’ve gotta stay seated a little longer… you’ve gotta keep me warm, okay?”

You whined and writhed, your pussy clenching around him only fueling his urge to get you nice and pregnant. “Please… my tummy, it’s too full…”

The two of you had been going at it for hours, and now he was keeping his cock nestled inside you, filling up your womb to the brim.

“Just be a good girl, okay? My little angel…”

You had a feeling you’d be stuffed full of his cum by the end of the night.

————————

||GOJO ||GETO ||NANAMI ||SUKUNA ||CHOSO ||TOJI || DILUC ||ZHONGLI ||KURAPIKA ||LEORIO ||CHROLLO ||ILLUMI ||RENGOKU ||SANEMI ||YOUR FAV

[primofate]

[Genshin Impact] Sitting on his lap

Note: Watch me disappear for a long time again after this update.

Warnings: some are a bit suggestive, still safe for work though. established relationship with Genshin man, please excuse and tell me if there are pronoun slips

Premise: You just felt like sitting on his lap, nothing much to it...or so you think.

Characters: Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Cyno, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, gn!reader

Alhaitham

Continues reading his book unfazed, one arm automatically coming securely round your waist. He shuts his book after a few seconds more and passes you an upward glance.

"Need something?"

You only hum in response with a shake of your head, indicating that you had only wanted to be close to him. He sits straighter, chest pressing closer to your back. You feel the warmth of his lips press on the left side of your neck, his head tilted to gain access to it.

There's a deep inhale as he takes in your scent and a relaxed exhale that follows. You hear him whisper, voice almost a tone lower and a rare expression of affection passes his lips.

"You're intoxicating, do you know that?"

Ayato

Chuckles as you plop yourself on his lap. He had been doing some paperwork, but he pushes those aside as he wraps both arms around your middle, moving closer as his head rests on your shoulder.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

The usual mischievous lilt in his voice doesn't disappear, he's amused that you've taken the initiative to come look for him, even though you knew he was in the middle of something. Before you could even reply, he beats you to it, his breath tickling the shell of your ear.

"Am I right to assume that you, perhaps, missed me?"

"...and what if I did?" you counter with a smile of your own. Head turning sideways to look at him. He grins, one of his hands unravelling from your middle to travel up your face, landing on your cheek, pulling you closer to meet his soft lips.

The kiss starts off gentle, just yours on his. It starts to turn hungrier, still soft, but now it feels like hot lava is churning in your belly at the increasing intensity. He pulls away for a moment only to whisper "Then I'll have to do something about that,"

Baizhu

Looks up from his medicinal notes, taking a few seconds to gaze at your back.

The first thing you feel are his hands resting atop your shoulders, then his thumbs pressing small circles near the base of your neck. You let out a pleasurable moan, relaxing in his hold. Then, as if realizing what you'd done, your hand darts atop your mouth to hide a small laugh.

You could hear Baizhu chuckling alongside with you.

"No need to hold back, darling," his thumbs continue to press circles, now downwards along your spine, continuing his massage.

"Mmmmm..." you try to stifle the next moan coming, "This could so easily be misinterpreted by anyone passing by outside," the two of you share a short laugh yet again.

"Either way, all I'm doing is giving you some love, darling,"

Cyno

He blinks as he feels you sit on him. He was always uncomfortable with the initial position, and so what he usually did was pull you and your legs up, positioning you sideways over his lap, legs somewhat dangling over the armchair. One strong arm wrapped around your back, steadying you and allowing you to lean towards him, tucking your head under his chin.

"Is something the matter?"

You shake your head and offer a simple reply. "Nothing at all, I just wanted to be close to you,"

Your honesty always managed to tug at the edge of his lips the slightest bit. In opportunities like this Cyno didn't say much, instead he liked to savour your warmth melding with his, liked to feel your breathing in sync with his.

He silently presses a kiss atop your head before closing his eyes, and staying that way for a moment longer.

Diluc

Instead of you melting into his embrace it's Diluc who melts around you. The moment you sit on his lap his arms encircle you around your shoulders and pulls you flush against him, your back to his front.

From his position, he nuzzles into your neck and sighs, his hot breath tickling your skin. He closes his eyes and shields himself from the world for a moment, basking in the safety and love emanating from you.

"Hard day?" You ask him and he mumbles something into your neck, incoherent. He repeats it as he pulls away a slight inch.

"Not more than usual," he squeezes you around the shoulders as he says so. "and you?"

You reach a hand up to sift through his hair, he sighs at the feeling and nearly melts into a puddle. "Nothing out of the ordinary," you return his sentiment.

You play with his hair as he holds you close, and in that moment there really isn't much for him to say, though his heart bursts with emotion and fondness towards you.

"Stay with me, Y/N," he makes this request from time to time, and though the two of you have already sworn yourselves to each other, perhaps he needed to say it once in a while in order to hear the answer from you.

"I'll always be here, Diluc,"

Itto

The oni is rather cluless in certain aspects of life, but when you sit on his lap he's guaranteed to be flustered. You prop yourself on his thighs, hands positioned on his legs to keep you from falling in case he made any sudden movements.

"Y-Y-Y/N?!"

"Hm?" You innocently ask, tipping your head back to playfully look at his reddening cheeks. "...Shouldn't you be used to this by now?" you ask, a laugh threatening to escape your lips because of the look on his face.

"I-Well-*ahem* Sure I am!" He puts on a brave face, but he looks like he's also sweating bullets. His hands are stiffly by his side, and he's hesitant to touch you anywhere.

You decide to comfortably lean back and Itto could not think of anything except how warm and soft you were compared to him. He had to get it together, this happened every time you sat on his lap, and it was becoming uncool for him to keep blushing when you did so. He promised himself that he would "man up".

...He still had the same reaction the next time you did it.

Kaeya

Kaeya reacts as if this was an every day thing, in fact this was always a good opportunity to flirt with you.

"Found your favourite spot have you?" Kaeya twists around to peer at you, grin plastered on his face, hand finding your thigh.

"It was tempting, you were just sitting there and it looked like a good place to rest," You returned his grin and felt his chest rumble with laughter.

"You're always welcome, snowflake," his hand squeezes your thigh, eye seemingly glinting with mischief. He shifts around on his seat, making space in between his legs and pulling you right between them, arms tight around your waist, front pressing against your back. "But you'll have to pay a small fee for this exclusive seat, I'm afraid,"

He tilts his head down to gaze at you expectantly, seemingly leaning closer. You smile, tilting your head up for you lips to meet. Kaeya doesn't half ass his kisses. It turns passionate in a split second and his hands are starting to wander up and down your thigh.

"Tsk, tsk," you let out as you part, your noses still connected, gazes steady on each other. "Are you sure it's just a kiss you want, sir?"

He chuckles, "Love, when have we ever stopped at just a kiss?"

Lyney

"Hm?" Lyney chides with a smile as he feels you become comfortable on his lap. He laughs when he realizes that you were not planning on leaving anytime soon. "Hello there my rose," His arms wrap around your waist, and his head rests on your back, snuggling into the warmth of it. He looks almost like a cat purring and rubbing onto their favourite scratching post.

It tickles you the slightest bit, so you bristle with soft laughter. "Lyney!" You warn, and he returns your sunny laugh with a chuckle, but doesn't let go.

"What's wrong, love?" He feigns innocence but now has resorted to placing butterfly kisses up and down your spine, taking a moment to lightly nip at the back of your neck before kissing back down again in a line.

By now you know he's doing it on purpose, so you twist around on his lap, and give him a half-hearted glare. "If you wanted kisses all you had to do was ask,"

Lyney finally pulls back and smirks, that same smirk that shows up when he's at the climax of a magic trick, about to reveal the grandest part. He leans back on the chair he's sitting on, placing both arms on the rests before lifting a hand up, wrists flicking upwards in a motion to beckon you over. "Well come now," the same hand tilts your chin gently towards his direction as he whispers, tongue briefly grazing over his lips, "Let me show you a real magic trick,"

Neuvillette

Neuvillette embraces you in and it almost feels like you're floating on a cloud, weightlessly relaxing in the air. His clothes help to cushion you, but at the same time Neuvillette himself is as warm as a fireplace and comfy as a sea of feathers. It feels safe in the arms of the Chief Justice, as if no harm will come to you. Sometimes you forget that you're in the presence of such an important man.

You almost always end up sliding down the slightest bit, the back of your head resting on his chest, his arm secured around your stomach. "Would you like to retire for the day?" he asks, and this is his code to ask you if you would like for him to stop working and walk back home with you.

"No, don't mind me," you whisper, burrowing further into him. You hear him sigh contentedly. With you, Neuvillette is lovestruck. Whatever is within his power, he would do it for you. He takes your hand and briefly presses his lips on the back of it. "Alright," and just like that he brings the paperwork back into his hands. Reading his notes and documents--highly confidential, by the way. Something that you shouldn't be reading--but he trusts you more than he trusts himself and that was dangerous, for someone like him.

If there ever came a day where you broke his trust, Neuvillette would most likely never trust another soul again. You alone was his deity of truth.

Scaramouche...Ruthless Prince Scaramouche?

"Whadd'you think you're doing?" his eye twitches as you jump on his lap. You glance backwards at him before turning away once again. "Getting comfy," you reply nonchalantly.

"Getting com--" the rest of the words were mumbled, you didn't catch the whole thing but it did sound like he said a very garbled and muffled "my ass" at the end of it. You ignore him and happily stay, humming as you read a book while you're at it.

Scaramouche glares at your back, taking a deep, long breath. For a moment he contemplated on just letting you do it, but the other part of him wanted to just push you off and let your butt painfully land on the ground.

As you were peacefully reading, you suddenly feel his forehead bump your back, though he wasn't holding nor hugging you at all. He stayed like that for a bit, as if he was praying to some God he believed--or didn't believe--in. After a moment he grumbles something more, but now has a firm arm around your waist.

He repositions, opening his legs a bit more to give you more space to rest in between them and then leaning forward to lazily loll his head on your shoulder, looking at the book you were reading. "...What trash are you reading now?" but his tone of voice had levelled off to calm, nearly peaceful.

"...101 ways to annoy your husband," you secretly grin when you hear him scoff. His hand finds its way to the spine of the book you're reading and easily grabs and flings it off to the side.

"You do that plenty, you don't need more ideas," his hold on you gets a little tighter, as if he wasn't going to let you go anytime soon. "Y'know what I've been reading lately...?" you feel his lips against your neck in a chaste kiss but in the next moment you feel a slight nip that sends electricity down your whole being.

"Hm?" You ask absentmindedly, the question doesn't completely register in your mind, what with his hand edging closer to the hem of your shirt, brushing against the bare skin of your waist. He breathes the next words into your ear huskily, his hand sliding upwards, and you feel a shiver making its way to your shoulders.

"101 ways to make you scream,"

[the-massive-simp]

gignatic bf using tiny gf as a fleshlight? streching her inside wide open.

omg this idea is so good, thank you anon for sharing this! I hope you like this♡

warnings: nsfw. no pronouns or anatomy mentioned for reader.

♡requests open♡

He lowers you on his fat cock, his muscular arms holding your waist because he knows you won't have the strength to bounce on his dick on your own. He's so thick that you feel split in two, stretched to your limit, but it feels too good to tell him to stop. He slowly increases the pace, moving you faster on his dick, using you as his special fleshlight. You moan shamelessly, too lost in the moment to think about anything that isn't him or his dick or the immense amount of pleasure he's giving you. He moves one of his hands on your abdomen, rubbing it slightly.

"Look at it love, I'm so deep inside of you. Can you feel me filling you up completely?"

He presses the hand on the bulge that his enormous dick is creating in you. It feels so good that the knot that was growing in your belly snaps and you come undone on his cock.

"Aw my pretty baby is already cumming? You're so good for me darling, so good"

He then lifts you off his cock almost completely and then he slams you back down. You feel him twitching, and you know he's getting closer to his orgasm. He repeats the movements again and again, making you cry out his name from the oversimulation. He shushes you and he keeps fucking you, murmuring sweet praises in your ear. You feel him twitch before he shoots thick ropes of cum in you. He keeps you still on his cock while he empties his balls in you, kissing your neck and pinching your nipples.

"My sweet baby you did so good... but we're not done yet"

He flips you over, his big, strong body engulfing your smaller one. He leans down to kiss you passionately before bringing your legs over his shoulders. He starts to pound in your hole, the strength of his thrusts making you cling to his back, slightly scratching him with your nails. You know it's gonna be a long night.

[toasteaa]

Everyone loves the Boyfriend Jacket, but what about the Husband Coat?

Diluc draping his coat across your shoulders because you forgot your own? Immediately looking the other direction to hide the heat coming to his cheeks when you settle into it?

Zhongli's thinly veiled swell of pride when he sees his coat around your shoulders? Savoring the scent of your perfume as long as he can for days after you've returned it to him?

Wriothesley's little half complaints about the chill in his office after you've taken his coat? Hiding how much he actively enjoys the sight of you utterly swamped in the fur and bulk of fabric?

Neuvillette having removed his mantle and stole in order to drape his robes across your sleeping form? His inability to completely focus back on his work after he sees how immediately you curl into it with that satisfied little hum he's come to enjoy so dearly?

Just...husband coats...

[maopll]

thinking about protective and strong, beefy men yet a softie from the core just for you

They like it when you bury your face within their chest, which gives you a sense of security and them a chance to inhale your refreshing scent. It's his shampoo on your hair, isn't it?

He can't help but feel this pang in his chest of pure adoration for you when they can see or even sense you in their periphery. As if an imaginary red thread tied you two together, two lovers who found the best soul mates for themselves.

He would carry you with ease when you would jump into his arms with no notice and quite suddenly. Fazed? oh please, he loves to carry you even when you surprise him during the most questionable of times when he's busy or tired or even angry...all a little act if yours to uplift his mood even a little :)

Thinking about how he would let out a breezy laugh when he would find you asleep on his chest while he was telling you about his day. You were lulled to sleep by his soft heartbeat. There would be reverberations from the laugh in his chest that would only encourage you to further drive your head between the two soft natural cushions you've found

It gets him lovesick when you would stand on your tip toes just to give him a little peck on his lips before he went to work or get done with his day. He would chuckle at your antics and bend down to your height so you can deliver a kiss on top of his nose or if he's feeling a little cheeky that day, he would escape your attempts of showcasing your love and head out for the doorway while having the BIGGEST shit-eating-grin of all time leaving you all pouty on the doorstep.

Thinking about how he would hold you close to themselves and gently pat your back spelling countless "sorry...sorry.." As you two just fought over something. He does it when he's wrong, and when you also know that you're wrong, the room gets filled with apologies, you both say.

And how he got the most expensive date set around for you as he buys everything that you may glance upon. Oh, you like these flowers? bought. Oh, you like these kinds of candy? no problem, he will buy twice the amount you requested for. He just can't help but spoil you with everything he has, and I mean everything and it will be at your disposal if you just ask for it ;)

— WRIOTHESLEY, alhaitham, zhongli, ITTO, neuvillette, diluc, ayato, TOJI, SUKUNA, nanami, YUUJI, JING YUAN, dr ratio, LUKA, GALLAGHER, diavolo, MAMMON, BEELZEBUB, malleus, vil, JACK HOWL, LEONA, rook hunt, sebek zigvolt

[stinkkyy]

a staring problem

summertime wasn't his favorite season though this go around diluc has yet another reason to dislike it.

heat meant having to wear less clothes than usual. diluc had settled for a plain white blouse, rolling the sleeves up to his elbows while the air would cool him off once it ripples through the fabric. the lowcut collar was.. vexing.

while he wasn't one to wear shorts he found that they were your choice of clothing on hot days like today.

he didn't care that your shorts would occasionally rise further up your thighs than they should. diluc was a gentleman, he could keep his eyes to himself, it was the treasure hoarders he was concerned over.

diluc crosses his arms firmly over his chest as he watches over you, listening to how you chat with them innocently. the crew the two of you had stumbled upon were docile enough and didn't see to be up to anything devious. he hadn't thought much of it, just mentally keeping track of time of how long it was taking.

it was only when he noticed one of the treasure hoarders that was standing somewhere behind them had been trained on a certain sight for a while too long.

he turns to look, disguising it as looking off to the landscape behind. the man cocks his head to the side though his eyes remain where they were, even smirking the slightest bit when you shift on your feet, stretching your legs every so often.

of course he wouldn't go and look just to see what the sight was that had this scoundrel's staring so hard, he can put two and two together, and this alone has his fists clenched tight together. how someone could be so brazen and deprived is beyond him.

and it seems that you’re none the wiser to it as well.

the crush that’s been steadily forming since he’s come to know you springs to life in his chest. he steps the urge to take a peek underneath his boot and digs it into the dirt. there is no was on this planet he would ever give into such base desires. not only would it tarnish his honor but it would be taking advantage of your trust. 

diluc glares at the man behind them, making direct eye contact with him to send the message very clearly. his gaze is not wanted and above of all very disgusting.

the treasure hoarder just smirks and licks his lips, paying diluc no mind as if he wasn’t a fucking wine tycoon.

he was about two seconds away from decapitating this man right in front of his little buddies until the sound of your laughter snapped him out of it. diluc looks over to you and was welcomed to the beautiful sight of your smile, covering your face a bit. you never did like people watching you laugh.

“luc! these guys are an absolute riot!” you cackle, muffling your laughter. “c’mon, tell him the story about giving the knights a run around! he’ll loose his mind at it!”

the treasure hoarder had already started his story but there was something more important that had diluc’s attention. the slimey bastard that was once against staring at your ass.

“that’s it.” diluc grumbles.

“hm? hey, diluc, what’s up?-”

with the blink of an eye his claymore is within view and it soon comes to shield your behind from prying eyes. wolf’s gravestone in all its glory shines in the light, the sharpness of the blade glinting and sending a dangerous message to the sorry lot that had dared to stare at you.

his gaze was murderous as he stares down the man, knuckles white underneath his gloves from how tight he grips at the handle. with how long he’s been using a claymore the weight hardly bothers him and he can hold it with one hand no problem which he’s pleased to see ends up intimidating the man.

“h-hey what’s your problem, man??”

“you’re my problem.”

the little commotion gets your attention and you soon try and turn around to which diluc places his hand firmly at your shoulder, keeping you in place. he turns to look at you in what he hopes seems reassuring and not murderous.

“these fine gentlemen were simply asking to see my choice of weapon,” he looks back to the lot and the glare is back on. he can’t stop a chuckle from escaping when they flinch back. “as well as how i’ve been training in it for over a decade with a 100% accuracy at each hit. they found it impressive.”

peace keeper you are, you just smile and clap your hands together. “ah! yeah, diluc is a real skilled fighter! not only in weapons but hand to hand combat. ooh we could even spar if you guys wanna?”

his victim quickly shakes his head as he takes a step back and away. “no thanks! that guy is-” the claymore tilts close to him. “h-he’s way too strong for us! maybe some other time? heh..”

diluc huffs silently though keeps it in place. “i think this has been enough for today. how about we go our separate ways. we shall head back north and your group can head south.” diluc makes direct eye contact with the man. “far, far, far south.”

it takes a minute or two but the group soon leaves. he silently keeps you there with him until the coast is clear and only when the band of treasure hoarders are out of sight does he let his claymore fizzle out. he idly fixes his gloves before nodding out to where they should go next.

an easy conversation starts between the two of you until you begin to laugh out of nowhere.

he cocks a brow. “what’s so funny?”

“nothing just- man, you were really gonna try and hurt that guy just cause he was staring at my ass?”

diluc looks at you as if you had lost your head.

you just laugh even harder and smack him square on the back. “thanks for doing that, though. who knows! maybe i’ll let you stare for a bit as a reward for protecting my purity or whatever.”

and of course he doesn’t mean to stand there like an idiot on purpose. you had known that entire time? it only now makes sense; you had been attempting to get to the outside of their group, ease closer to him, even tucking your hands behind your back. celestia above he’s an idiot.

diluc’s jaw tightens as he chastises himself mentally though your sweet voice once again snaps him out of his thoughts. 

“you’re already cashing that reward in? goodness, who knew master diluc was a pervert?”

“what- oh!” he looks up to you though accidentally gets an eyeful and quickly brings his hand up to cover his eyes, scowling slightly as he catches up to walk by your side. “shut up. we have the rest of your commissions to do.”

his face burns brightly all the way up to the tips of his ears and the back of his neck. you’ve lose yourself in a fit of laughter and giggles.

diluc ignores how hard his heart pounds at his chest during the walk. he really has to get a hold of this crush..

[glimmeringtwilight]

Daffodils | Yandere Diluc x Reader

You can thank @j0succ for this one honestly bc they've put me in a very Diluc mood lately (A VERY GOOD THING) (THE OPPOSITE OF A PROBLEM) ...anyway. this will be a two-parter

CW: reader death(Diluc doesn't do it though dw), angst, implied kidnapping, referenced captivity, yandere themes, graverobbing

Word Count: 1.2k

Adelinde hasn’t seen the young master like this in a long time.

After the death of his father, Diluc became a completely different person. Mind you, she would never go so far as to say he became a worse person, no. Just… different. The fire in him dimmed. It was like watching the light from the sun slowly die. 

She still worries about him, from time to time, when she catches him limping his way up the steps to the estate, clutching a wounded side with a mask hanging haphazardly from one ear.

She knows he works himself to this point so that he doesn’t lose anyone else close to him, but there’s still the quiet fear that one night he won’t return, and the manor will bear the echoes of the ghost of him. 

Some of that worry dissipated with you. The warmth in him had returned– not that he had ever grown cold since his father’s death, but with you, it was like seeing the young Diluc Ragnvindr again: whole and bright and warm. 

It’s why she overlooked some of the… Peculiarities of your relationship with the master. The locked doors, the muffled sobs, the sadness in your eyes whenever you stared out the windows of the estate…  

She knew better than to intervene– all the servants did. They may have quietly pitied you, and done their best to make your stay feel less like the imprisonment it felt to you, but they ultimately cared more for their master than they did you. 

And Diluc seemed well and truly happy, for the first time in years, with you here. Adelinde wasn’t going to change that. Many servants were relieved to see the man they once knew in the halls once again, instead of the shadow of his guilt and regrets. 

For your part, you seemed to be warming up to Diluc after a few months into your stay at the winery. You still looked out longingly into the vineyard, towards the yawning horizon, but you didn’t ignore Diluc entirely anymore– didn’t give him the same icy glares, didn’t flinch away from his touch, didn’t refuse the meals he’d bring you on cool evenings when you were too despondent to eat in the dining hall. 

Adelinde felt like she could sleep at night, at last. It was easier to swallow back the guilt that came with playing blind and deaf, when you were coming to terms with it. She could feel the relief in the other maids and servants that Diluc allowed to tend to you, see the cloying shadow of remorse slipping from their postures as they guided you through the days. She could convince herself this was for the best– that you would learn to love Diluc in time, that you would be happy here.

But it didn’t last.

The death of his father was hard on him, the sun setting on a never ending day, but yours? Your death was the sun shattering against the horizon. Adelinde can’t wipe the image of him from her mind: returning with you in his arms that night, soaked from the rain, and the undiluted pain in his eyes when he looked at her. 

She doesn’t know what became of the servant that had slipped you the key. She never asked. 

In the days leading up to the funeral, Diluc hadn’t left his office once. When you were finally buried in the garden, Adelinde would often find him in the late hours of the night sitting by the budding daffodils they’d replanted by your grave. 

Late nights spent fighting the Abyss stretched on into early mornings, with the haggard Ragnvindr returning bloodied and limping after each excursion, slipping into his office despite Adelinde’s concerns. 

None of the servants are allowed into your chambers anymore.

At first, she’d assumed Diluc had intended to lock the room and leave the memory of your stay here untouched, gathering dust, but she’s seen the door cracked on a few occasions– caught glimpses of her employer carefully tidying up the space, or perched at the edge of the bed overlooking the garden where the lisianthus grows. 

They say grief comes in waves, but for Diluc, it was an engulfing ocean. Sorrow settled over the estate like a heavy fog– servants skirted past the ghost of their master in the halls, hearths did little to warm the quiet mourning that sank into the floorboards, and the yawning emptiness left in your wake tore into the inconsolable wine tycoon like an unfettered rot.  

The spring months felt like winter at the winery, dragging on into dreary summer storms. It was in one such storm that Adelinde returned from running errands to see Diluc waiting for her outside the estate, soaked through with a crazed look in his eyes. 

“Master Diluc–”

“Where are they?” He cuts in, swatting away the umbrella she offers him. Rain pours down his face, crimson hair sticks to his forehead, and dark circles line his eyes. 

She can see the mud caked in his clothing now, the shovel he’s still clinging to in one hand in a white-knuckled grip. Her eyes drift to the garden, to the uprooted daffodils and lisianthus the gardeners had carefully tended. 

“Pardon?” 

Diluc grabs her by the wrist, lessening the harshness of his grip when she winces– the wild look fading into something apologetic for the barest of moments– and leads her to the garden where you once lay. 

The coffin they’d buried you in is empty, its fine satin interior soiled with old dirt and fresh mud. 

The sound of rain is deafening in her ears. Diluc looks to her expectantly, hopefully, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

His face darkens. Adelinde watches him disappear into the manor once more, then turns back to gather her things and follows. She doesn’t see him for the rest of the day. 

That night, however, as Adelinde finishes the last of her duties, she stops in the hall to see her employer stepping out of his chambers, harsh shadows cast over the tired lines of his face by the sparse candlelight. 

“Master Diluc.”

“Adelinde.” 

There’s a bag slung over his shoulder, a familiar heavy coat draped over him. Ah. She thinks she understands. “Going on a trip?”

“Yes. I’ll need you to take care of the estate in my absence.” He doesn’t look at her as he says this, but Adelinde can hear the tremble of something other than grief in his voice for the first time in months. 

“Of course.” 

“Thank you. Be sure to inform the others of my absence.”

“What should I tell them?” She asks, just as he steps past her, the flame of her candle turning wild before snuffing out. In the dim moonlight, her employer’s eyes look almost haunting when he turns back to look at her. 

“Business trip.”

“You might want to bring a warmer coat,” She tells him.  

“I’ll be fine.” He replies, and Adelinde sighs. 

Diluc heads down the stairs and steps outside, shutting the door behind him. Adelinde lingers in the hall, turning her gaze to your room, the door to it left wide open for the first time in months. The hallway is warm despite the chill clinging to the rest of the estate. ...Well. It’s good to see the young master pulled from his misery, if even for this. 

As Adelinde finishes locking up for the night, she wonders what the fatui could ever want with your corpse.

[wearyeyebrow]

Captivating

Summary: "Do you think of me when you touch yourself?"

Tags: Diluc/reader, NotSFW - very suggestive, implied dom reader, implied sub Diluc

-

Diluc is on his back, head propped up by a pillow. You're straddling him, a hand on his chest, a glint in your eye.

"Do you ever think about me when you touch yourself?"

"I..." he clears his throat as a soft blush blooms on his cheeks, travelling all the way down his neck. He looks away from you, almost scandalized, and covers his mouth with the back of his wrist. "N-naturally I... you are my partner."

You take his hand and hold it next to his head, pressed against the mattress. The other gently grasps his jaw, silently asking him to look at you. His breath catches when he does at the heady expression on your face.

"What am I doing to you when you think about me?" Your thumb brushes against his lips, "Describe it for me - your mind's eye."

"I - I couldn't-"

"You couldn't?" You lean forward, lips hovering over his own.

"I..."

"Am I on top of you, in those moments? Are my hands all over you?" You brush past his lips and lean down to his neck, leaving soft kisses below his ear. You feel him shiver and hear his breath hitch.

"Or am I doing something else?" You whisper.

"You - you aren't wrong." You're about to say something else when he continues, voice soft and breathy, "I always imagine the look that you give me..."

"What look?" You smile before gently biting his ear.

His breath hitches. "It's intense - I can't describe it accurately, but it always makes me..."

"What is the rest of me doing? Where are my hands going?" You lightly grind against his pelvis and he sucks in air through his teeth. "They're all over me, all - all over my chest, my legs."

"Like this?" You sit back and slowly drag your hands down his chest, over his partly unbuttoned shirt. You undo the buttons on your second pass, and brush against his nipples, fingernails lightly tracing his body, palms pressing tight against his sides. His chest heaves. "Yes - j-just like that."

"What do I do next?"

"You... ah - you grab my hair and-"

You rub little circles with your thumb against one of his nipples. You hear a small whine catch in the back of his throat.

"You grab my hair and pull my neck to the side -"

You smile and oblige, knowing exactly what he wants. He groans at the contact, feeling you tug at the roots of his hair, the slight commanding posession of your grip. You turn his head to the side exposing his neck.

"Then what?" Your breath comes out in little puffs against his skin, sending shivers down his spine.

He's flustered and slightly overwhelmed, flushes all the way down to his chest, from both arousal and a bit of embarrassment.

"You always... take control," he whispers, gaze heavy, fixated on you, "and you're... you're aroused, because of me."

You spread your legs and lower yourself onto his thigh, spreading your wetness against his skin. He groans and meets your eyes.

"You always do this to me." A gentle smile belies your roaming, hungry gaze.

His eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown wide, lips parted and breathless. "Kiss me," he rasps, "please-"

You press your lips against his, letting go of his hair to cup his jaw. He groans when you slip your tongue into his mouth, and wraps his arms around your neck.

He chases your lips when you pull back to kiss down his neck and chest. "I always think of you when I touch myself." He groans, neck tilted to watch your descent. "I think about how pretty you look, how strong you are - your hand in mine. You look at me like I'm everything you've ever wanted-"

"You are," he croaks, partially sitting up on one of his forearms.

"Archons - what you do to me."

[angelltheninth]

Genshin Men when Someone Notices Lipstick Marks

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Pantalone, Dottore, Kaveh, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Reader

Tags: fluff, suggestive, being flustered, teasing, bragging, lipstick marks

A/N: The only way you'd get me to wear lipstick tbh.

TRIES TO HIDE IT - Pantalone, Kaveh, Zhongli

He would glare at whoever pointed it out, partially embaressed and partially grateful that it was pointed out so he could hide it. In friendly company he wouldn't mind this happening but when he's in a more professional setting they don't want it to be visible. In the future if you want to leave marks on him when before he goes to work make sure it's in places he can cover up.

BRAGS ABOUT IT - Kaeya, Itto, Dottore, Wriothesley

Doesn't deny that he has it, rather he pulls his clothes further down so the person who pointed it out, and everyone who sees him can guess what he was doing with you minutes before. Won't say anything in detail, he thinks it's funnier that way. He will almost point it out to people because he thinks they should all know what a good time he has with you.

WANTS TO GET MORE - Diluc, Childe, Neuvillette

As soon as he notices it too he thanks the person who noticed it first and runs right back to you. No matter what you're currently in the middle of he will drag you into a private area where he will, very seriously, ask for you to leave more lipstick marks on him. Anywhere is fine but he would prefer them on places people can see so he can wear them with pride.

[shanieveh]

— “ who did this to you? ”

; genshin men as your enemy (with benefits)

pretends not to care (he massacred them all) — kaeya, albedo, childe, zhongli, ALHAITHAM, scaramouche

He immediately tries to keep an aloof facade the moment he let out those words. It wasn't that he actually cared? Like come on, you're the most annoying person in the world. But when you finally tell him those annoying bastards names in quick succession they were hunted and destoryed.

There was something so annoying about your face getting hurt he just couldn't pin point why. Maybe it made you more annoying? Yeah, probably that. He doesn't care at all. But he will never have the guts to tell you what actually happened to the ones that hurt you.

cares more about your well being — diluc, KAVEH, kazuha, XIAO, tighnari, freminet, ayato, heizou, lyney

His usual sour expression became that more of concerned but angry all the same. He checked for wounds, brought you to the medic. The guy was acting pretty strange.. too strange. Maybe it was a prank? That's what he thought too, why... why was he helping you this way?

When you told him the people who did this, he was never one to forgive them. But none of that mattered when you looked in pain. Wait? Wasn't this his enemy. He shouldn't think like this. But... fine just this once. Both of you are sure this will be the one time he cares for you. How foolish.

ready to put people on their graves— wriothesly, dainsleif neuvillette, PIERRO, childe, scaramouche, xiao, CYNO

It was to the point he was even screaming for you to give out their names. And as soon as you do, he marches out of the hospital and kidnaps them one by one. No one will escape. No. One. At this point, he didn't even think that both of you were enemies or that this isn't how he was supposed to feel. He didn't care.

And as he cleaned his blade at the end of the fight, this time he showed no mercy. Maybe in your point of view he hated you, and at some point he also thought he did. But now, staring at what he'd done, hate isn't that far from love. And love isn't that far from revenge.

just glad you were okay — freminet, bennett, ITTO, gorou, thoma, tighnari, KAZUHA, chongyun, diluc, baizhu

Who in the world can possibly harm you like this? How dare they? Why would they? But it doesn't matter what the name is. With an first-aid kit in hand he cleans up your wounds and wipes your tears. This was the same man you keep arguing with. The same you hated above all else.

You've never seem him gentle, but now you did. Cherishing this, you know you'll use this whenever both of you fight. But... no that would be too cruel. He looked so pretty doing it, like an angel rather than demon that was him everyday. So you just kept it in your heart, a memory forever lasting.

[danijaci]

uhh,,, umm, ah, uhhh, huhhhh huhuhuhhh

I'm.. dying.....

I can't go on,,,, any ,, longer....

Mr Darcy as *cough* Diluc pls save,,, mwee