#[💌] c.w

[sublieu]

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[💌] - smut warning

[🐰] - problematic smut warning

[❤] - fluff/angst warning

New tags :D

New board (+lyrics) will be updated soon!

Master board will be updated with all smuts from the previous years.

[chil2de]

𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐄 — zhongli.

💌: “professor!zhongli getting angry that you chose his best student:albedo instead of him to tutor you??”

a/n: all u zhongli fuckers come get ur juice. albedo stans are welcome with open arms, too.

tags: afab reader, love triangle: albedo!reader!zhongli, prof!zhongli (obviously), use of ‘sir’, spanking, unprotected sex, pet names ‘love, darling, dear’, sub/dom, possessive zhongli, semi-public sex / voyeurism, zhongli’s kinda lowkey mean, dacryphilia, size kinks, degradation: ‘whore’, thigh riding

c.w: student/professor relationship

w.c: 3.5k

There seems to be some sort of nondescript tension whenever you’re around professor Zhongli. Usually you’d simply shrug the ordeal off, claiming it’s just a jittery university experience. Touches that, although feathery and lightweight, had an underlying message towards them. Zhongli’s strong hand would lean the back of your chair if you ever heeded his aid. He’d lean in beside you, glancing at your laptop screen as his brunette locks fell to ornate the slim space between you two. His shoulders would hover against yours, fuelling that kindling desire in your very being. He’d make the effort to give you small shoulder pats or ‘accidentally’ ghost his fingertips against your spine— revering in the way you would lean into his touch, constantly battling the urge for more and more.

It isn’t particularly unheard of to hear about students dating professors, more or less them hooking up with one. And yet? Zhongli finds it extremely commendable. The way you try to act as though the thought hasn’t crossed your mind, like your thighs don’t ache and squeeze whenever he gives you as much as a simple, small smile from across the lecture hall. He holds you in high regard because it’s so fascinating to him the way your mind works, and why you won’t just give into your animalistic desires.

If Zhongli were to really think about it, though, he’s uncertain as to why he hasn’t told you about how pretty you’d look bent over his desk.

And, of course, your academic prowess. Right. That’s another reason he holds you in high regard.

Though you might not be his best student, it’s convenient to note that your ‘high dedication’ translates over into your works.

So therefore, cold sweat will never fail to be your personal reminder towards an untimely doom every time you think about disappointing professor Zhongli. He may do his absolute best in maintaining his monotone, stony exterior whenever he passes you back a paper that wasn’t up to par. But you can always, always hear it in his voice. The gentle, sugar coated reassurance and yet there’s that twinge of venom in his tone. It’s because Zhongli knows what you’re capable of. And why wouldn’t he? You are one of his students, and he knows exactly what your writing styles like. It’s not like you to get such a.. mediocre grade.

“Professor Zhongli I—“ You clear your throat after mustering your courage to speak about this affair with him in the first place. He glances up from his stack of papers that cake his desk in a disarray, pools of warm honey orbs watching you intently.

“Are you alright?” He inquires, noting the lack of confidence in your posture and overall demeanour.

You swallow the lump in your throat, mentally psyching yourself until ultimately you decide to back down.

“Nothing. I—Um. Thanks for teaching us today. I’ll see you tomorrow, sir?” You sputter, tearing your gaze away from him almost immediately.

Zhongli can only sit there, astounded. He blinks once, twice. Then thrice. He still does not get it.

Thanks for teaching us today? Well, it’s not like he’s forced to be here. This is his job, after all.

“Are you having difficulties understanding the current assignment?” Zhongli quips, and a prolonged groan draws out of you. You’ve successfully managed to draw out his investigative zone, something that he particularly excels at as a teacher.

“No, sir. I understand the current assignment very well, thank you.” You squeak, causing Zhongli to perk a brow at your idiosyncrasies. He clears his throat, ignoring the pathetic way your breath just deflated like helium hissing out of a balloon.

“Would you like me to tutor you?” He inquires, briefly glancing up at you as his wrist continues to scrawl against paper. You’re almost certain that he can hear your heart pound when he instigates the proposal. His amber gaze flickers to your lips, even if very briefly, before meeting your gaze again.

You would love absolutely nothing more than for Zhongli to bend you over his desk, but you don’t think you could withstand being privately tutored by him. He tends to.. drone on. A lot.

“Huh. Well. A—“ You begin thoughtlessly, mindless garbage spilling out of you before you can even think twice.

“A?” Zhongli reiterates, drawing out the syllable in hopes of getting you to speak up.

“Albedo! Yeah. Albedo’s tutoring me today.” You gasp, playing off your demeanour suavely by acting as though you just recollected your plans to meet up with him. It’s crafty and intelligent, Zhongli thinks. Might have worked on the average human, but it'll never work on him. Besides, he was nothing short of the CEO of menaces during his younger years.

“Albedo’s tutoring you?” Zhongli repeats, slowly. This is the first time he’s actively set his pen down against his desk, slightly turning in his chair to fully face you and by Lord does he look intimidating.

“Yes? Is uh, something the matter?”

Zhongli’s expression remains impartial for the most part, but you can see it in his eyes. Like he’s about to make a remark, except he doesn’t.

“Not at all. A fine decision, may I add. He does consistently excel in his work, unlike others.” Zhongli states blankly, an underlying leer evident in his tone. You know he just took a stab at your inconsistent grades, and you can’t do much but gawk at him with astonishment.

“I wish you the best of luck in your studies. Hopefully I’ll be able to see the fruits of Albedo’s labour in your next essay.”

You take this as your cue to leave, mentally cursing yourself and profanities threaten to spill out from between your lips.

You may have just exceptionally outdone yourself today, butchering any and all chances of finally getting to sleep with Zhongli.

It’s obvious that this fact comes to torment you mentally from the way Albedo can discern your sour attitude from half a mile away when you approach him at the library. It’s the only place he’d ever be, since it’s too cold outside for Albedo to prop his canvas up on the quad.

“You look..terrible.” Albedo muses, a small grin perking his lips. You roll your eyes, huffing and puffing at him like a benevolent child before dragging out a seat to sit beside him. Albedo makes quick work of his surroundings, bunching up his thick textbooks and stacks of organised paper to accommodate you beside him.

“You and Professor Zhongli are both god awful at managing your workspaces. Looks like a crime scene, minus the blood.”

“It’s an organised mess. To you, it may look ‘godawful’.” Albedo borrows your phrasing, knitting his brows in slight distaste at your demeanour.

“Though to me? I can find what I need. I know that for a fact”— Albedo slurs in thought, slender hand reaching out as he combs through the stacks of white sheets.

—“‘Source Analysis: Economic Downfalls of Teyvat is right here. Page six, to be precise.” Albedo pulls out the singular sheet of paper, casting the page at an angle so that you can see the bold ‘6’ that adorns the bottom right corner. His features are at an impasse, but the small smirk that threatens to don him as well as the slight falter in his tone leads you to think otherwise.

Usually, you’d offer him a witty remark or something of the sorts. Albedo’s very perceptive.

Especially when it comes to you.

So when you murmur a meek ‘whatever’ whilst slouching back in your seat, you instantly become the crux of his concerns.

“I figured as much by your expression that you wouldn’t want to talk about whatever happened just now. So…” Albedo begins, albeit meekly.

“So?” You glare up at him, snapping back an answer that was a little bit too harsh. If Albedo were to take it personally, he hid any telltales with extreme ease.

“So.. Ahem. I can hold you, if you want. Physical touch is reassuring, or so I’ve been told. I might not be able to solve your problems, though I guess I could aid in helping you forget.”

Albedo doesn’t tend to open up to people very often, much less offer them help in such a comforting way. He can be.. awkward, at the best of times. You can feel the tingle of guilt pang in your gut because for a split second, it crosses your mind.

You wish that Zhongli were the one giving you support. You wish it were his hard, sturdy thighs that would cage you in and protect you all the same.

You ground your thoughts immediately before Albedo can discern your hesitation, deciding to climb on top of him and settle yourself onto his lap instead of dragging the male elsewhere just to cuddle with him. Albedo, in the process, lifts his hands in the air— somehow protecting your privacy but invading it simultaneously when his hands wrap to settle on your waist.

“Is this okay?” Albedo inquires, glancing up to watch for your features. You nod quietly, opting to wrap your limbs around him; resting your jaw onto his left shoulder.

Albedo’s surprisingly.. warm. You can feel the warmth radiate off of him, as though he may be competing with Teyvat’s largest star and source of energy. When you inhale deeply, there’s a discernible scent that makes Albedo.. well. Albedo. It’s the faint hints of chalk, assumedly from the amount of hours and dedication he’s put into the art department.

You feel Albedo gently tap his dominant hand on your waist, signalling that he’s going to move it. He’s not sure where to put it and he hesitates for a hot second, internal panic slowly freezing his veins. One thing that he does know, though? Is that you probably shouldn’t be so close to him, limbs wrapped around his mid and with the way you press your tits against his torso.

It’s ironic, with the way Albedo’s labelled a genius but he can’t discern if you’re doing this on purpose or not. He instead lets his hand fall to his lap, forgetting that you’re sitting on him completely.

Before Albedo can snatch his palm away from your thigh, you halt him there.

“Don’t worry. You said physical touch is reassuring, right? So by all means.” You hum, voice dulled by the structure of Albedo’s shoulder.

Albedo murmurs something else, but you don't hear it. Zhongli continues to plague your thoughts.

You wonder how his agile hands work, if they can bend and dip excellently. You’ve caught yourself staring at how Zhongli’s pretty and long fingertips curl around the pen he’s always nursing, wondering one too many times if he could prod and curl them into the spongy crevice inside your pussy that you always struggle to reach. You wonder if his moans are low, almost animalistic with a growl, or if they’re more pitchy— whiny, desperate even. You wonder how his cock feels, the sheer size and—

“What are you doing?” Albedo panics, eyelids blown and his pupils dilate. His voice comes out as a murmur, if even. The question sounds like it was reserved for himself.

It takes you a few moments to realise your predicament, for you to notice that you’d started subconsciously rutting your clothed clit against Albedo’s thigh. His face is flushed, lips slightly agape and he can only gift you an expression of perplexion.

“Sitting.” You lie straight through your teeth and Albedo can only scoff.

“Seriously? That’s the first thing you can say in response?”

You wouldn’t have the courage to confess that you were fantasising about Zhongli, either way.

Albedo’s slender digits slowly stalk the way up your thigh. He grabs the soft muscle there, kneading into it to memorise your composition by touch.

Zhongli is an addicting daydream, a man who often occupies your thoughts, but Albedo may really just be the answer to some of your problems. Like a gush of cold wind on a scorching hot day.

“Why’d you stop?” Albedo inquires, genuinely intrigued. If the library wasn’t stuffy enough, you can physically feel the temperature kick up a few notches when his torso fully clicks against yours. His heartbeat, uncharacteristically jackhammering, gives way to how he’s really feeling despite the monotonous exterior. That, and the twitch of his cock underneath you respectively.

There’s something so intoxicating about Albedo that persists you to chase him.

You don’t give Albedo the answer he was anticipating. Instead, you silence the blond with a hot, wet kiss to the side of his neck. A small whimper oozes out of Albedo’s throat as he rolls his hips, grinding his clothed dick against your clit. Another gasp and a stutter rip from him when your teeth come into contact with his soft skin.

“We should—uh. I mean. Find somewhere a little more private.” Albedo gasps, breath hitching in his throat as he bites down another moan.

As though to challenge that idea, there’s an audible knock from a nearby bookshelf that sends cold fear coursing through both your veins.

“Did I interrupt something, perhaps?” Zhongli inquires, eyebrows cocked and you can feel the amusal oozing off of him.

You part your lips to say something, except nothing comes out.

You do not know where to begin.

“A moment of your time. Whenever you’re finished, of course.” Zhongli glances at you head-on, innuendo thickly lacing the air and Albedo can feel his secondhand embarrassment kicking into overdrive.

“Let’s start by addressing the elephant in the room, shall we? On the basis that you’re not going to waste my time, of course.” Zhongli hums pleasantly, closing the door to his office behind him.

The door doesn’t lock.

“I’m sorry— Professor Zhongli, I—“

“—Not now, darling. You may save your baseless apologies for later when I’m through with you.”

“So? Please. Do explain to me. What on Earth were you doing back there?” Zhongli presses you, crossing his arms over as he leans himself back against his desk. You swallow thickly, jaw locking and you refuse to meet his gaze.

Zhongli sighs out of pure vexation. His slender digits clasp your chin, tilting your head upwards. You roll your eyes forward, matching his pools of honey.

“Speak up. I’m waiting.”

“Isn’t that obvious?” You murmur dejectedly, tip of your ears blazing hot.

“Was that your idea of tutoring? Nevermind the fact that you were foolish enough to deny my help.”

“If I didn’t know any better, it’s almost as though you wanted to get caught. The university library? My. You really are something.” Zhongli muses, warm exhale panning the expanse of your features. You could feel the room gasp if you tried to, inanimate objects withdrawing their breath and you could run a knife through the atmosphere.

Your case isn’t justified when your gaze subconsciously flickers to Zhongli’s soft lips, to which his brows cock in amusement in return.

Zhongli abruptly pulls away from you with a mean scoff, hand recoiling as though he’d just touched a sizzling hot pan. The brunette stalks around to his chair, strides long and dauntingly elegant.

He pats his lap with his left hand, signaling for you to come over.

It is downright pitiful how fast you clamber over to Zhongli, so much so that the notion earns a small chuckle from the male.

“Eager, aren’t you? Though I’m not sure what you’re doing— trying to settle yourself onto my lap like that.” Zhongli murmurs, manhandling you with ease until you’re laid over his thighs, ass slightly perking in the air. You attempt to scramble to free yourself from the demeaning situation, except the brunette only pins you into place with a strong hold to your smaller back.

“Zhongli! I— What are you—“ You squeal, rubbing your thighs together nonetheless. Zhongli hushes you with a small coo.

“Isn’t that obvious? I believe it’s crystal clear that students who misbehave should.. bear the consequences of their actions.” He borrows your earlier phrasing, twisting the sentence to once again embarrass you for the poor attempt of an excuse you tried to gift the man.

Zhongli’s padded fingertips draw over the surface of your warm, soft thighs. He loops his digits into the band of your thigh high socks, knuckles drawing into your warm skin. The touch makes you shiver, even more so when he pulls back the fabric before allowing it to snap against your skin. You yelp with a small jolt at the unexpected pain, stifling a moan.

“By the looks of it, however—“

Zhongli’s warm palm connects with the plush curve of your ass. The echo of a resounding smack! vibrates off the walls, leaving your eyebrows knitting as tears threaten to paint your vision.

“—You wanted exactly this, did you not?”

“N-no! I swear— I-smack!— Ow!” ‘Liar’. You can feel the implication waving off of Zhongli, feel the way a small smile creeps onto his lips. You’re horrific at lying, he thinks. The bittersweet concoction of pain and pleasure rolls through your body from head to toe, the earlier remnants of where Zhongli previously smacked your ass continue to leave you breathless.

“Zhongli!” You mewl, clawing at his arm rest with fervour.

“I believe that—smack!— it should be ‘Sir’ to you, should it not?” Zhongli hums, a dark and somewhat sinister chuckle resounds from deep within Zhongli’s chest.

You attempt to whine out a meek apology in response, pitchy tone instead interrupted when Zhongli’s palm connects with the soft plush of your ass again. Your teeth grit, eyes rolling into the back of your head and your thighs twitch in anticipation. There’s no way he can’t not feel how you’re writhing under his touch, right?

A fat tear globs out of your duct, streaming down the side of your face. At the sight, Zhongli knits his brows and a small groan escapes from him. You can feel his cock pulse underneath you.

“Crying already, my dear? We’re just getting started.” He murmurs with false reassurance, slender digits smooth over your sore and burning hot ass as though to comfort the skin there; like Zhongli’s nursing your skin back to proper condition.

Your mind is far too hazy to register or even begin to partially remember at what moment in time Zhongli flipped you onto your stomach, making you lay flat against his ice cold Cuihua desk.

The thing that comes first nature to you are your begs, the way you keen and absolutely plead for Zhongli to just fuck you. You want to feel an ounce of decency, try to cover yourself up or even try to resist, but it’s futile.

Zhongli humours himself for a few moments, watching the way you arch and attempt to grind your ass against his clothed cock, the cute mewls that escape from you when a string of half-assed pleas roll from your plush lips effortlessly.

You’re so broken for Zhongli, ruined and delirious and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

The brunette’s digits ghost underneath your flimsy little skirt, hiking up the fabric but never taking it off.

You hear his belt unbuckle, cool metal clashing against metal and the way the leather peels. You can feel the way your throat constricts, heart running hundreds or even thousands a minute because you need him. Need Zhongli’s fat cock inside you.

Zhongli only kneels down behind you, spreading your ass apart with his thumbs before diving in to lick a long, wet stripe with his hot tongue.

“Wasn’t aware that you’d be such a whore.” Zhongli murmurs between your thighs, obscure squelches ring throughout the air with how he’s fucking slurping and teasing your clit as though he’s starved. Like you’re his last meal.

“Wh— Ah!— Why?” You sob, gritting your teeth and mounds of frustration bubble up from within you. Your veins light ablaze, blood singeing hot as a wave of utter desperation clashes over you.

“I’m sure I made myself quite clear when I stated that you deserve to bear the consequences of your actions.”

“And besides—“ Zhongli detaches himself from your puffy lips with a loud smack, drool and your slick ornating his chin. He straightens himself, grabbing you by the locks of your hair to bring you backwards until your spine just about clicks against his torso.

“—This wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t a fucking fool, denying my help of all people.” He snaps, tone dripping with venom in your ear.

“Albedo can’t help you.”

From the other side of the door, Albedo can most definitely attest to his heart rate skipping multiple beats. There’s no doubt about it.

His free hand flies to his mouth as he attempts to calm his erratic breathing, dominant palm curled around his angry, leaking cock.

A broken moan stutters out of you, jaw falling slack and you keen when Zhongli finally, finally decides to ease the tip of his cock into your cunt. You can’t stop yourself from crying out Zhongli’s name in pitchy symphonies, sobbing and gripping the edges of his desk at how his thick cock stretches you out to the hilt.

Zhongli’s well aware that Albedo’s memorising every little noise you make, how he’s gonna stroke himself to the thought of this day for probably the rest of his life.

And so, Zhongli abruptly pulls out of you.

He pins your back up against the door, holding you up like you weigh nothing as you sink back down onto his cock with a loud slam.

Might as well put on a show, right?

CHIL2DE 2021.

reblog or i WILL punch you.