#morax x f!reader

[moraxsthrone]

◊ title — scent (phase 2)

◊ pairing — zhongli/morax x f!reader

◊ wc — 3.3k

◊ notes — guys. the way it took so long to write this bc horny. sorry not sorry. hopefully you'll find that it was worth the wait. also, i lied. this will be a 4-part series (not a 3-parter) - the ideas are coming faster than i can get them out. how fitting that i finally finished this on mother's day - just a fortunate coincidence.

◊ be warned — nsfw. mdni. feral!zhongli/morax. heat/rut. dragon features/anatomy/instincts. oral/tongue fucking (f. rcv'ing). squirting. cum drinking. rough, animalistic sex. biting/marking. knotting. breeding. scent marking. light aftercare.

← phase 1 ◊ phase 3 (wip)

...end of phase 2 (48 hours before you ovulate)...

“hey babe!” you greet your husband cheerfully while closing the door with your foot. 

zhongli is sitting at the little breakfast nook that sits adjacent to your kitchen, reading a book and enjoying a cup of his favorite afternoon tea. he’s so engrossed in his novel that he doesn’t look up, just answers you with a low hum as you set the shopping bags down on the countertop. he’s mid-sip when you lean down and give him an innocent little peck on the cheek. his teacup is still pressed to his bottom lip when you twirl around and walk away from him to start putting groceries away. 

he’s still looking at the book that he holds in his ungloved hand, but is oblivious to the words in front of him. his gaze slowly lifts from the pages, looking over the top of the book to watch you move around the kitchen, putting the provisions in their respective places. you’re wearing those cute little shorts and he’s willing to bet mora that you’re not wearing anything underneath if the intensity of your scent is anything to go by. 

you bend over to place a couple of items in the bottom drawer of the refrigerator, unwittingly giving him a little peep show when the crease of your butt cheeks peek out from underneath those scandalous shorts. zhongli is looking closely, and sure enough, you’re not wearing any panties. what began as a small spark of heat at the base of his spine when you gave him that innocent kiss a minute ago has been ignited and is now a raging wildfire that is rapidly spreading to his loins. 

you’re fertile. he can smell it, and the delicious scent of your heat has triggered his rut. it’s not something he has any control over. similarly to how he’s clenching his jaw, he’s only partially cognizant of it. 

he just instinctively knows that you smell of unhad sex.

and he must have you. he must fill you with his musk and scent you. but before he does any of that, the ghost of your earthy scent is haunting the back of his tongue.

first, he must taste you.

you say something but it’s gibberish to him when all he can hear, see, smell, or taste is your heat. it must’ve started somewhere around mid-day. when he woke up next to you this morning, he could faintly smell you, which is typical. but now he is all but drowning in the rich, ripe scent of your pussy. and you aren’t even aroused yet.

but if zhongli has anything to do with it, that’s about to change.

deep down he knows that you need to be wet to receive his cock. more than that, though, he wants to smell your arousal. 

you’re still busying yourself with putting away groceries, humming the song that’s been stuck in your head all afternoon, having no idea that your husband’s dick is hard, his balls are aching, and he’s about .58 seconds away from bending you over the nearest surface. 

“what would you like for dinner tonight, li?” you ask, standing on your tippy toes to reach the top shelf in your pantry. but he’s too ensnared by your creamy thighs to have noticed; he couldn’t hear you over the blood pumping furiously through his veins. when you don’t get a reply, you turn around to look at him. “li?”

he blinks and clears his throat. “wh-what?”

you repeat the question, to which he stammers out a response while loosening his tie. “whatever you want is f- fine with me, dear.”

you close the pantry door and furrow your brow at him, noting his flushed complexion. he appeared to be perfectly fine a minute ago. “zhongli, are you feeling okay?” you fret, making your way over to him. at his age, he could be having a heart attack or something… “darling, you look feverish…are you coming down with something?” 

you bring your hand to his forehead. he’s burning up. you’re close to him again - too close - and you’re ripe for the picking. 

before he fully realizes what he’s doing, he quickly stands up, the legs of his chair skidding across the tiled floor. your eyes go wide when he grabs you by the waist and in one swift movement, your ass and thighs are unceremoniously dropped onto the surface of the small dining table in front of him. your mouth opens, but before you can say anything, it’s filled with the former archon’s tongue. 

his kiss is fierce, raw. animalistic even. there’s no romance behind it, only sheer need and passion. you feel like he’ll eat you alive…but he’s only just begun. as his hot muscle swirls around yours, he wedges himself between your legs, forcing them apart with his hips. his hands are everywhere - groping, pulling, pushing: your neck, your tits, your waist, your thighs. unable to get a word in edgewise, you whine into his mouth and he finally pulls away, mouth still open with a thread of saliva connecting your lips. 

“zh- hahh-” you whimper when you feel his teeth on your neck. 

he’s not biting you (yet). he’s merely keeping you where he wants you while he brands you with his mark. you wonder what’s gotten into him as his hand massages your naked thigh. he’s only like this when you-

oh.

has it been two weeks already? it seems like only yesterday that the two of you were talking about maybe starting a family.

a little mewl escapes your lips as the thought hazily occurs to you that you haven’t kept up with your cycle. but it’s okay…you haven’t had to because he has.

knowing your husband’s draconic rut has been triggered by your heat sends a pang of desire shooting to your core and you moan for him. his mating pheromones go undetected by your human sense of smell; however, the reptilian part of your brain is pinging like crazy, telling your body it’s time to breed. 

you’re frantically working to unbutton his shirt, your bare legs encircling his hips, but he pries them apart again with a low grunt. he hooks his hands behind your knees, making you yelp when you’re jerked forward, his forgotten teacup rattling against its saucer when your back hits the table. he’s looking down at you, lips parted, eyes glowing, dark scales appearing briefly above his open collar before diminishing again - evidence that as feral as he seems right now, he’s still able to hold himself back…for now.

zhongli never breaks eye contact with you when he curls his brilliantly glowing fingers into the waistband of your shorts, his rich amber eyes boring into your very soul as his chest rises and falls. he yanks on the cloth barrier so hard you hear the stitching surrender to his power as your ass is forced upwards off the wooden surface. 

the scent of your pussy is filling every one of his senses…it’s almost all he can even feel. he’s dying to taste you. needs to taste you as though your slick is holy water and he is a sinner. inside his tented pants, zhongli’s cock is glowing, leaking, throbbing. there’s a dark spot forming on the cloth as proof. he needs to shove his readied cock inside you like the desert needs rain, but first he’s dying to drink you. your scent is so palpable he can taste you on the back of his tongue and it’s driving him insane.

beads of sweat are collecting at his hairline as he picks up where you left off with unbuttoning his shirt. but he quickly loses patience and tears it away from his shoulders with a clipped growl, a couple of buttons flying off and landing gods know where in the process. he’s shirtless now, his beautiful arms glowing and carbon black scales emerging on the tops of his shoulders. 

he pushes your thighs back towards your chest and lowers his face to your cunt. he just hovers there for a moment and breathes you in, his eyes rolling back in his head as they flutter closed. the distinct scent of your arousal combined with your readiness to breed sends a new rush of blood to his cock and it jumps in his pants. 

“zhongli…please…” you keen for him, and he drops to his knees to worship at your altar. 

normally, he’d take his time with you - ghost his lips along your inner thighs, kiss around your labia, tease you just a little. but he doesn’t have the patience for that right now. 

he descends on your cunt, his open, watering mouth latching onto your aching clit, his long tongue circling it for a moment before he plunges it inside you. 

gods, your flavor. 

he tongue fucks you, filling you with a long, deep moan because you taste so fucking good to him. your hands fly to his earth-colored hair - something to ground you while he devours you. you can feel the hitch of his hot breath on your labia, not knowing that the golden tip of his cock is glowing and rubbing deliciously against the rough material of his trousers as he rocks his pelvis into nothing. pulling his tongue out, he licks a long, wide stripe up to your clit again. 

you hear your name in his deep, even voice and open your eyes. “look at me when i’m eating your cunt,” he commands, and you comply. far be it from you to go against your husband’s - your god’s - wishes.

zhongli’s diamond-shaped pupils have been replaced by serpentine slits that hold your gaze while he sucks your soul from your hard bud, growling and tugging at it with the suction of his lips as his hips jerk, rubbing the moist head of his cock against the front seam of his slacks. 

“hhhh~ li…fuck, feels so good baby, yes…” you praise him, but he already knows how good he’s making you feel. your husband mastered your body long ago. he knows your tells, the meaning behind every little sound you make. he can anticipate the way your body will move before he even touches you. but more than that, he can smell your growing lust. 

he hums in appreciation and gives your clit several hard flicks with his flexed tongue, making you whine before thrusting his long, wet muscle into your pussy again. you buck your hips against his face, but his strong hands are spread over the backs of your thighs, holding them back. he curls his tongue inside you, pulling it along your walls, lapping at your juices. 

you lightly pinch your nipples, rolling them between your fingers and pulling on them gently as zhongli returns his attention to your throbbing clit. he flicks it then flattens his tongue and drags it up and down, back and forth, the texture of his tastebuds rough against your tight little bundle of nerves. at the same time, you feel two of his fingers press against your hole. 

“ohh- oh fuck, li!” you whine for him as he slips them inside, working them knuckle-deep in search of the spot that he knows so, so well. he finds it quickly with great ease, and begins massaging it with his fingertips while his lips and tongue work your clit over. 

his hair is a mess in your hands; you’re a mess on your dining table. you can feel the cocktail of your need and your husband’s spit trickle down to your ass crack, knowing you’re about to make a mess in his mouth. but that’s exactly what he wants. he doubles down and starts tugging on your g-spot, moaning when he feels you tightening around his fingers. 

zhongli knows you’re close, so close. 

he continues to hump the air reflexively, sucking your clit harder, pulling it deeper between his wet lips as though he’s trying to swallow you whole. 

“haahhh!” you gasp. “fuck, baby!” you fist his dark brown locks between your fingers. “zhongli…ohgodyou’regonnamakemecum!” 

he releases your clit with a wet pop and you feel your abused little pearl being flicked furiously back and forth over the tip of his sinfully skilled tongue. your head rolls back on the table, briefly glimpsing your kitchen behind you before you squeeze your eyes closed. 

your pelvis is rocking helplessly against your husband’s soaked face but his lips are latched securely around your clit when your cum squirts inside his waiting mouth. his brow knits and he groans against you as he swallows again and again, drinking you down to the last drop. it makes him impossibly harder and his aching testicles are heavy, full of his sperm that he needs to release inside you.

with his craving for your juices temporarily sated, the raging need in zhongli's loins is now fueling his prime directive: 

breed. 

he stands and lifts you up, bringing you to your feet before spinning you around and pushing your chest down onto the table. you whimper, pussy clenching at zhongli's show of physical power. your pebbled nipples rake across the surface below when he ruts his hips against your butt, and you can finally appreciate just how hard he is. he could’ve taken you on your back, but he’s primally driven and compelled beyond reason to mount you from behind. 

zhongli the funeral consultant now more closely resembles morax the god of old. he’s even starting to show signs of his dragon form and operating purely on instinct at this point. your scent has become more complex, nuanced - the way you smell when you’re approaching fertility combined with your arousal, and now the mixture of his saliva and your cum…

there’s only one scent missing.

from behind you comes the tinkling of his belt buckle and the sound of his zipper. zhongli pushes his pants down just far enough to free his cock and testicles before he’s bending over you. you know his fangs have emerged when you feel them drag lightly across the back of your neck. his breath is hot and his cock is so hard, bouncing eagerly against your wet folds, drooling precum onto the floor below.

he spreads your ass apart with his strong radiant hands, kneading and pushing and squeezing bruises into your soft, sensitive flesh. you keen, bending lower, arching your back as you fold your arms and rest the side of your face on the hard surface beneath you. 

“zhong- hhhn fuck…” is all you can manage when the tip of his erection bumps against your clit. gods, the way your scent hits him when you beg him to put his cock in. 

his cockhead bounces along your slit a few more times before it finally catches on your hole and he thrusts in hard with a low grunt. the way it glides in, hard and slippery because you’re so ready for your mate to claim you, preening and presenting for him like a cat in heat.

his jaw flexes at the way you choke on your cries when your hip bones dig into the edge of the surface he’s fucking you into. it hurts, and there will be bruises later, but you can’t bring yourself to stop or slow him down. his cock feels too good filling you up so full, tugging at your gushy walls, the ridge of his cockhead peeking out every time he retreats, then splitting you apart when his hips slam against your ass again. 

he hunches over you, fully mounting you, his tail having emerged and wrapping around your leg to hike it up and hold your bent knee out to the side so he can break your pussy off harder, deeper. your cheeks are streaked with wet eyeliner when the fuzzy tip of his tail tickles your clit, your juices getting it wet. 

zhongli isn’t fucking you anymore - morax is the one driving his fat cock into your squelching cunt now. there are those who would clutch their pearls at the idea of being bent over a table and fucked by an archon, but your eyes are rolling back in your head at the feeling of being spread open by his celestial dick. for you, it’s a matter of course. he’s your husband - you’ve been in love with him for years and you adore him in every one of his iterations, even if you have your own special ways of worshiping him. 

your feral god-husband’s vividly glowing arms are wrapped tightly around your sweaty chest, the wooden legs of your dining table scuffing the floor as he grunts in your ear. “fuck, that’s my good girl. taking my cock so well. so ready to take my seed, yeah?…” 

“y-yes! need your cum, morax! breed me, my lord hahh~” 

he loves it when you call him by his ancient name. it reminds him that he’s still got it - the power and virility of his youth. he swears under his breath, digging his talons into your hips as he yanks you back on his cock. it’s too much. it’s too much and he feels his balls pull tighter against his body when he growls and snarls behind you. you whimper at the feeling of his knot swelling deep inside you, knowing it’s forcing your walls open so he can pump you full of his sperm. he opens his mouth and bites down on the back of your neck with a deep, guttural growl. 

you cry out the god’s name again and again, chanting for him, urging him to cum for you as his big, scaly tail tightens around your trembling thigh. the soft tuft of orange fur at the tip is matted with your juices. it licks and lashes against your clit as his humanoid hips dig into the plush of your ass, snapping against you in fits and starts. 

“ohh-oh, morax, gonna cum for you!” 

dark brown scales shimmer and separate along his spine as it curls with every frantic pump of his pelvis. 

“that’s it, my dear. cum on my cock…now!” he orders.

you tense and throw it back on him as you fall apart on his cock. his balls contract in their sac as you milk his ready, sensitive length, choking on your own sobs of his archon name when he throws his head back with a roar and cums hard. the first ribbon of his divine seed splashes against your clenching walls, his cock jerking violently as he empties his full balls deep inside your womb, coating your messy insides with his hot, sticky semen. 

◊ ◊ ◊

his sweaty chest is heaving against your back, his lungs filling and collapsing as the waves of his orgasm slowly fade. you can feel the heat of his labored breath as he licks and kisses the bite marks on the back of your neck, making you coo at him for soothing the pain. your husband can smell the oxytocin as it floods your brain; he instinctively knows to remain close to you in these crucial moments of bonding. dragons mate for life, so he’s biologically coded to crave the loving attachment just as much as you do. 

nuzzling his nose behind your ear, zhongli mutters his love and appreciation for you, making you smile weakly with the side of your face still resting on the table. he leaves lazy kisses on your neck and you feel his smile against your moist skin when you tell him how happy it would make you to be the mother of his young.

he still has a full erection, his balls filling up with more seed. he’ll need to release again soon. he slowly pulls out of you, a mess of his cum and your slick spilling onto the floor below when the bulbous head of his cock pops out of your tight ring.

you’re jolted from your dreamy afterglow, eyes opening wide as you yelp, suddenly finding yourself being carried bridal style towards your bedroom. now that he has scented you with his musk, zhongli wants to take you to your shared nest where he can begin breeding you in earnest. he can sense that you’re still hours away from ovulation, but he’s going to keep your womb so swollen with his seed, so full of billions of his sperm - ready and waiting to swarm your fertile egg the moment it drops.

← phase 1 ◊ phase 3 (wip)

◊ zhongli/morax m.list

this is dedicated to my zhongli sisterwife @crystalflygeo whose utterly fearless, shameless style of writing has filled my morax spank bank inspired me to write with bold and wild abandon. i can't even fully fathom the sheer number of ideas this wonderful human being has filled my head with. we share (1) singular zhongli brain cell and i love her with my whole heart. she literally begged me to write this fic so you all have her to thank for it.

[chrollogy]

EPITOME OF SIN

— zhongli x f! reader x neuvillette

syn: Neuvillette doesn’t know why he agreed to such a brazen proposal from his lover—that is, to sit and watch while the ex-Geo Archon shamelessly takes you for his pleasure.

18+ MDNI; explicit smut, unprotected sex, cuckolding, masturbation (m), neuvillette being horny and overwhelmed and zhongli being a lil menace, pet name (my sweet girl). divider: cafekitsune.

word count: ~1k or less

notes: not proofread! advance apologies for any typos. idk how long i’ve had this drafted but yeah!! i got around to finally finishing it hehe.

Neuvillette always saw himself as a calm, and collected man; lilac gaze mirroring the cerulean tranquil waters of the Weeping Willow of the Lake—he was never the one to unnecessarily raise his voice nor show the expression of anger. At least that’s what his lover, you, had said to him from one’s astute observation.

So why was the Chief Justice the complete opposite right this very moment? Heart thrumming against his chest like the speed of the harsh winds in Loch Urania; blood boiling like hot vermillion lava from the volcanos of Natlan, Neuvillette seethed at the wickedly sinful sight in front of him—teeth clenched, nails digging into the poor azure fabric of the sofa beneath him. Your lover was painted crimson red, not knowing if it stemmed from anger, embarrassment, or lust.

Anger, because Neuvillette didn’t know why he had agreed to such an insane proposal. Though, insane was an understatement. He surveyed your sweat-covered naked body, rocking back and forth, back and forth from the forceful thrusts of another man—the geo archon.

Rex Lapis, Morax, Deus Auri, the usurper of the element of stone. He should be the only man sheathed beyond your walls so intimately; he should be the one pulling those saccharine moans from your soft lips; he should be the sole reason for your immense pleasure.

Embarrassment, because Neuvillette was too turned on at the sight before him to admit—though, his cock pushing against the navy slacks he donned was more than a telling sign. He was ashamed, felt absolutely filthy for getting aroused at such an outlandish sight. There were so many things wrong here and, yet Neuvillette had the audacity to be horny; he would give himself the heaviest sentence in the history of Fontaine, for heaven’s sake.

The Iudex could feel his skin prickle, diminutive sharp kisses shooting all over his heated skin, fingers wanting to claw at the unbearable itch it left behind. He felt feverish but he couldn’t take his lilac gaze away from tracing your bare body—the way it responded to the heavenly pleasure Zhongli gave.

Lust, because at the end of the day—dragon or not—Neuvillette’s body responded the same way as a human’s body would when exposed to a sexual stimuli. The Chief Justice practically gawked at his dear lover and Zhongli on the bed; mouth slightly parted, tongue ever so lightly swiping at his bottom lip in effort to satiate his growing thirst.

All Neuvillette could hear were your dulcet moans reverberating throughout his cerulean-walled quarters, the way your pretty eyes rolled back in pure bliss; brows knitted in full concentration on your impending orgasm. Oh, Neuvillette wanted to be desperately inside you but all he could do was sit there.

Sit there and watch as Zhongli sinfully fucked you with enough drive to vex your lover. Outside, the people in the Court of Fontaine began to scramble for shelter at the first signs of water droplets beginning to fall from the azure sky; grey clouds looming over the Nation of Many Waters as it prepares for a downpour.

“Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don’t cry.” Zhongli brazenly teases with a strained voice, his amber eyes glowing like gold, piercing right through Neuvillette. The latter lets out a firm sigh, nails digging further into the softness of the seat.

“Please, don’t hold yourself back, Monsieur. We’re all here to have fun, aren’t we?” the dark-haired man continues before repositioning your naked body.

Zhongli hauls you up like a rag doll, both arms secured behind your back with his hand while the other makes its way to the strands on your head. He faced you towards Neuvillette—who sat there with blown pupils, holding onto the last piece of his sanity and reputation—before pounding into you again; balls slapping against your soaked entrance with every forceful thrust.

Letting out a sweet whimper, you stare starry-eyed at your lover as his hand wanders down to the apex of his legs. Zhongli clicks his tongue as he feels you clenching around his hard cock, and holds you against his sweaty chest, changing the angle of his thrusts.

“O-oh god!” You moan out as his tip kisses the saccharine spot within your velvety walls, shocks of icy pleasure caressing your spine. If it wasn’t for Zhongli’s hold, you would have fallen onto the mattress from the sheer strength of his thrusts and the pleasure alone. The divine man behind you growls, lips situated dangerously close to your ear,

“Yeah . . ? That’s right I’m your god.” Zhongli growls, loud enough for the Hydro Sovereign to hear, his tone unrecognisable—it was a far cry from the usual smoothness of his voice.

The ivory-haired man mirrored Zhongli’s growls yet it didn’t contain the same carnal hunger as the latter, no, it was pure rage. White, hot anger seethed from Neuvillette’s sitting figure as Zhongli spoke that very sentence, what a disgrace.

The Chief Justice sat there, every fibre of his body tingling and burning with silent chaos—like the calm before a thunderous storm, serene yet brimming with such force. You vigorously nod at Zhongli’s retort, even going as far as trying to form your own coherent reply only to come out in a twist of saccharine moans.

There was no hiding the rapid rise and fall of Neuvillette’s chest despite the expensive layers of cerulean fabric he donned. The sensation was too overwhelming for him, pressure uncomfortably pressed on every dip and curve of his body to the point where he couldn’t feel anything—no, he could feel everything. Everything at once and it drove the Iudex absolutely insane.

The jealousy, the lust, the embarrassment, it weaved its way down to his very core. Neuvillette didn’t know what he wanted to do, all your lover knew was that he needed a release. Now.

Neuvillette uncomfortably shuffled atop the plush of the cerulean sofa, delicate hands moving as fast as the lightnings that scattered throughout Inazuman waters. It was beyond shameful to be acting this way, his fingers fumbling the metal zipper of his slacks.

Before you knew it, your’s and Zhongli’s moans were accompanied by Neuvillette’s sinful ones—he didn’t hold back, almost as if he had completely let go of himself, his reputation, his standing with the Lord of Geo. The Iudex of Fontaine was reduced to nothing but a common whore, shamelessly filling the walls of his own quarters with brazen moans beyond his control.

It was a sight to see. Too bad the intense jolting of your naked body from Zhongli’s forceful thrusts were getting in the way from being able to properly see your lover’s fucked out expression but the desperate strokes of his hand was enough for you—enough to let you know that Neuvillette somewhat found pleasure in this despite the bizarreness of it.

He moaned, and grunted your name into the heights of the ceiling like there was no tomorrow; you’ve never seen him like this before—always the modest sighs and grunts whenever you had sex with him but nothing more. Neuvillette’s body was feverish, millions of tiny prickles spreading like wildfire as he stroked and stroked at his hard cock, hoping to finally reach that sweet release with you.

You moaned, a messy mix of both their names, earning a sharp hiss from the two males as they sucked in a sharp breath.

“I-I’m close. . Fuck . . !” “That’s it my sweet girl. Show your lover how good I’ll make you cum.”

Zhongli whispered, licking a long stripe up the side of your sweaty neck, golden gaze locked onto Neuvillette’s, taunting him. If it weren’t for the pleasure he was chasing this very moment, Neuvillette wouldn’t have thought twice before pulling you off the archon but his legs were trembling with icy bliss, unable to even take a few steps.

As if on cue, you clamp your walls around Zhongli’s cock, letting out a lewd sound before cumming. Your naked body hardened with pleasure, teeth gritting and digits curling as waves of bliss ran through your veins.

You couldn’t even hear Zhongli’s velvety praises as you came, the next thing you knew was that your moans became muffled—your face harshly coming into contact with the ivory sheets beneath as Zhongli pushed your head down to sinfully arch your back even more. He gave a couple more thrusts before pulling out and fisting his cock above your exhausted form, shooting endless ropes of hot cum onto your back as he moaned your name.

To his dismay, Neuvillette was the last to cum which meant you and Zhongli were able to see his current state in all its glory—all flushed and sweaty from desperately fisting his cock, moaning your name out with such need like he was a dragon in heat.

Hot cum coated his pale fingers, he sat there, cock still hard and catching his breath. Neuvillette had his eyes solely on you, like a quiet predator sizing up its main course for the night.

Maybe Neuvillette should show the Lord of Geo how to actually fuck you dirty until you and him were the epitome of sin.

[the-travelling-witch]

𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

summary: you’ve not seen your boyfriend in a while, so when you call his name he’s ready to please 

pairing: xiao x afab! reader (no pronouns used)

warnings: nsfw/ minors dni, very soft, some good ol’ love making, f! masturbation, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), mating press, unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!), marking if you squint

this is a repost because i'm moving my nsfw works onto this blog!!

genshin impact masterlist

The bed felt cold as you tried to get comfortable underneath the covers. But without the familiar weight of two strong arms wrapping around your waist, you just kept tossing and turning.

When was the last time you could spend some quality time with your boyfriend, let alone could get lost in each other’s touch? With the Lantern Rite upon you, more and more evil spirits found their way onto the mortal plane and Xiao was out hunting them down near constantly. You understood, of course. Liyue’s safety was the top priority and you’d never fault him for doing his Morax- sworn duty…

But you were needy, so incredibly needy.

It started when you came home from your commissions, exhausted and in dire need of a bath. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the tiny hope that Xiao would be there to greet you had taken root. Instead of the adeptus, you were merely met with silence and an empty house.

With a sigh, you drew yourself a bath and rooted through your closet for some comfortable clothes. Pretty quickly your fingers closed around familiar fabric and a tug later you held one of Xiao’s shirts in your hands… He’d forgive you, you decided. You needed the comfort of his scent around you now.

After soaking in the warm water until your fingers turned slightly pruney and drying yourself off, you slipped his shirt on and melted into the soft material. You decided to call it a day and got ready for bed without any rush. When you slid under the covers, there was still no trace of Xiao, so with a sigh you closed your eyes.

Just for sleep not to find you. In the pale moonlight of your bedroom, your thoughts kept drifting to your boyfriend and although it started very innocently, they soon spiralled into territory that would’ve made the elders in town gasp in indignance. And before you even considered stopping yourself, your hands started to wander.

You barely applied any pressure with your fingertips, your touch merely a whisper as Xiao appeared before your mind’s eye. The way he’d trace the sensitive areas of your body, worshipping you as if you were the most delicate flower and paying attention to how you reacted to his every action.

He’d lean down to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning your cheek as he told you to relax, leave it all to him, let him take care of you. Slightly dipping your fingers into the waistband of your pants, you slid them back up your stomach, the cold sensation of your fingers making goosebumps rise in their wake and pulling the hem of Xiao’s shirt up a few centimetres.

As you pinched one of your hardening nipples and gave it a light tug to feebly imitate the way he’d close his lips around it, lightly gracing his sharp teeth along your flesh, you could almost see his amber eyes gazing down at you, drinking in the sight in front of him. The mere fantasy of him so close to you again had your thighs rubbing together in search of some friction. You shuddered at the memory of him kissing down the valley of your breasts, mapping the planes of your abdomen with his lips even if he already knew every curve of your body.

At this point, you couldn’t tease yourself any further. It had been too long since you felt the pleasure of his attention and you were craving to release some of this tension. Unceremoniously, you stripped out of your pants and settled on top of the sheets before dragging your fingertips up the inside of your thighs.

There was already a wet patch forming on your panties as you teased your fingers over your slit. Xiao’s absence had made you so sensitive, the featherlight touch was enough to have your legs twitching, a little bit of pressure against your neglected clit enough to have you gasping for air. 

Impatiently, you slid the obstructing material down your legs, feeling your slick connect to the seat of the panties before snapping against your skin as the garment was left to hang from one of your ankles. 

Collecting some of your arousal with your middle finger, you ran it through your folds before pushing past the muscles of your entrance. For the first initial moments it felt good as you slowly worked the digit in and out of you but it quickly turned out to be not nearly enough to stimulate you.

Perhaps Xiao’s attentive care had spoiled you rotten and ruined you for everyone else, even yourself, but sooner rather than later you added a second finger. Finally, you felt yourself stretch just a little as more slick coated the palm of your hand but you still couldn't reach quite as far as your boyfriend’s skilled fingers could; not to mention, how heavenly the strokes of his dick felt against your velvety walls.

The effort of trying to bring yourself to the edge of pleasure had you panting just a bit but it became pretty clear you needed more stimulation than just your digits pumping rhythmically in and out of you. So, as your free hand found its way back under your shirt to massage the fat of your tit, your thumb clumsily rubbed little circles over your clit. While it wasn’t quite the same, it still had one or the other moan spill from your lips as you felt a familiar coil tighten in your stomach. 

Under your passionate touches, your spine slightly arched off the mattress as you clenched your eyes shut, picturing before you sweat-slicked teal bangs and sharply bright eyes. In anticipation of teeth gracing your pulse point and lips wrapping around the sensitive area below your throat, you craned your neck and threw your head back to give your imaginary partner easy access to do as he pleased. Before it registered in your mind, a single breathy syllable passed your lips and lingered in the air and…

“Xiao~”

The effect was instantaneous. Your general state of pleasure made you unaware of the black and green smoke at the end of your bed, the cutting glare scanning the room for enemies before widening at the sight in front of him.

In a motion very unlike him, the jade spear slipped from his grasp and clattered obnoxiously on the floor, alerting you to the presence of someone else there with you. Desperately, your mind tried to catch up to what was happening but before you could fully blink into consciousness, a familiar weight had already straddled your waist and a gloved hand cradled your neck to lead you into a searing kiss.

Under normal circumstances, Xiao wouldn’t have been so rash but really, the prolonged withdrawal from you also took a toll on him. And then, to be suddenly presented with the most sinful view of all, his patience ran thin. From his vantage point, he could see the shaking of your thighs, the curve of your chest and, most importantly of all, your fingers desperately working that glistening pussy of yours. All of this, as he now noted, while dressed merely in his shirt, staking his involuntary but not unwelcome claim over you.

“Xiao?” You broke away from his kiss to allow your lungs some air. “What are you doing here? I thought you were-”

“You called me,” he merely stated. “And now I’m here to please you.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, yet still linked your hands behind his head and pulled him down to bridge the gap between you again.

“But I want to,” he whispered against the corner of your mouth, his thighs meeting the back of yours as he leaned over you. “Being away from you for so long was hard on me too.”

Gently but deliberately, Xiao caught the wrist of your hand that was fingering your core and brought it up to his mouth as he sat back on his haunches before wrapping his lips around your coated fingers. Whilst his tongue swirled around your digits, you could feel his sharp teeth graze your skin, teasing you by pretending to bite down. You knew he would never hurt you but feeling their sharp edges press into the pads of your fingers as he sucked the last of your arousal off of them made adrenaline course through your veins and the hairs in the back of your neck rise.

“I almost forgot how good you taste,” he groaned, golden eyes fluttering closed. Then, the yaksha’s weight lifted off of you as you felt the mattress dip under the shift of his weight. Your breath got caught in your throat as he guided your legs to rest on his shoulders, slipping your panties off your ankle and curling his arms around your thighs to keep you open for him. Xiao closely studied how your soaked pussy clenched under his gaze and in one swift motion, he pulled his gloves off with his teeth and discarded them. Lightly tracing through your folds, he mumbled more so for himself, “So pretty…”

“Xiao,” you moaned, thighs twitching in his hold as he blew a puff of air against your core. “Please touch me, I really need you.”

There was no need to tell him twice. With fervour, he licked a fat stripe up your pussy, his tongue flicking deliciously against your clit before diving straight into your fluttering hole. Despite the long absence, Xiao still knew your body like the back of his hand. In no time, your body was twisting on the bed as whines and whimpers spilled freely into the night’s air, spurring him on to tighten his grip on you. 

Normally, he’d shush you softly, reprimanding you to keep still so he could continue pleasing you. But today he just let you writhe under the assault of his tongue as he watched the euphoria cross your face. The vibration of his groans as you pulled him closer by his teal locks felt heavenly, the sensitivity from your lost orgasm still drumming through your veins.

The attention of his mouth shifted to your clit, wrapping his lips around the little nub and gently sucking on it as his fingers replaced his tongue. You could see the muscles in his arms flex with every movement against you and it sent more heat straight to your core. In an act of desperate selfishness, your heels pressed into his shoulder blades as your toes curled to ride out your approaching high on his scissoring digits. The sound of you chanting his name over and over as your pussy clenched down on him had his hips involuntarily rutting against the mattress to alleviate some of his need.

“Xiao, I’m so close,” you whined. “Please keep going.”

Curling his fingers forward into the spongy spot which made you see stars, he coaxed your orgasm out of you, greedily drinking up all your juices and not letting a single drop go to waste while you twisted your hands tighter into his hair.

Through the fog of pleasure you vaguely realised Xiao lifting himself off of you but before you could calm your breathing, he had already resumed sitting between your legs. With the ghost of a trace, his knuckles ran over your temple, pushing matted hair out of eyes. You repaid his gesture in kind, raking your nails over his scalp as he pressed caring kisses against your still racing pulsepoint, leaving faint hues of purples and reds to decorate the canvas that was your neck and shoulder.

“How are you feeling, love?” He whispered, deft hands massaging the flesh of your thighs which were caging in his slim waist. “Do you wish to continue?”

Bucking your hips up into his, earning groans from both of you, you chuckled breathlessly. “Xiao, I swear to the Archons, if you don’t fill me up…”

“I recall a certain human saying,” he mirrored your playful grin, “warning mortals to be careful what they wish for.”

Any form of witty remark died in your mouth as his fingers dug back into the flesh of your thighs as his warm length dragged through your folds, coating himself in your slick and his precum. The sensation of his cockhead catching your clit on every upward motion had you choking back whimpers as the knot in your stomach started tightening again.

As much as Xiao was awed by the sight of tears of pleasure watering your lash line, his patience was wearing incredibly thin and the need to be buried in you was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. 

“Are you ready, dear?”

“Yes, Xiao,” your need evident in those eyes he could lose himself in, “please make us feel good.” 

Lifting one hand off your leg, he aligned himself with your entrance before slowly pushing in. Even after all this time, Xiao still stretched you so well; just the mushroom tip had you gripping the sheets like a lifeline. Yet, you still encouraged your partner to keep going deeper until, eventually, he was buried balls deep inside.

After giving you some much needed time to adjust to his cock resting inside of your walls, Xiao started pulling out a little and thrusting back in without any rush, setting a slow but deep pace which had you feeling every vein decorating his shaft. The more your sweet noises increased in volume, the more strength he put into the movements of his hips, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

In one fluid motion, your legs were hoisted back over his shoulder as the adeptus leaned more of his weight on you and pressed your thighs towards your chest with his body alone. With his hands now free, Xiao could reach around your intertwined bodies to pin your wrists down against the sheets, which were now freed of the deathgrip you had on them. 

Somehow, this position always made him reach so much deeper than before, your cunt spasming around his dick when his pelvis ground against your clit. In combination with how effortlessly he seemed to hit all your sensitive spots, it had your back arching into his touch and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. And, as if to seal your fate completely, Xiao dove down to lock your lips and steal all remaining air from your lungs. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, finally slightly out of breath as well, as he smeared a messy kiss against your forehead. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too,” you sobbed into his shoulder as another wave of pleasure licked up your spine and set your veins ablaze. “I’m… not gonna last…”

“Neither,” he panted, “I’m almost there, love.”

Bringing one of your linked hands up, he pressed a quick peck onto your knuckles before letting go and letting his fingers drift back to your sweat-slicked chest, pushing his shirt up to expose your breasts to the night’s air. Rolling one nipple between his thumb and index finger, he engulfed the other in the warmth of his mouth and lavished it in the attention of his tongue. 

Meanwhile, your free hand was slung over his back to keep him close. On a particularly well angled thrust, however, you dug your fingernails into his skin, no doubt leaving some nasty half moons to decorate his shoulder blade. The low grunt against your tit and the twitch of his cock against your insides had your core tightening, clamping down on him like a vice. You were sure there was no need in telling him, no doubt he was already well aware, and still…

“I’m close, Xiao,” bounced off the walls, flowing into the symphony of lewd noises filming the room as your lover readjusted his grip on your trembling thighs.

“That’s it, let go,” he breathed quietly, yet you still heard him so clearly. “Cum for me, love.”

With his encouragement you fell off the edge, lightning shooting through your limbs and stars dancing before your eyes. Chasing his own high and fucking you through yours, Xiao straightened up and held your legs down with his hands again, watching your marked up breasts bounce with each thrust whilst the rhythmic pulse of your walls encouraged him to spill deep inside of you.

And that was just what he did.

Comfortingly familiar warmth flooded your insides as your partner sloppily rode out his orgasm before slumping forward into your embrace. Your hand stroked calmingly along the length of his spine as you felt his cock softening inside of you with a last few twitches.

“I love you,” you mumbled sleepily, stifling a yawn against his shoulder. Now, with your energy spent and your beloved’s arms holding you, it was getting harder and harder to fight off the tempting pull of sleep.

Careful not to disturb you too much, Xiao slowly pulled out and watched his cum drip from your hole. On other nights, the sight might have made him pounce on you again but this time, he simply wanted to lie next to you as you fell asleep in his embrace. Giving each knee a sweet kiss, he set them down and stretched them out gently before sliding next to you and pulling the covers over you. He’d clean you up later, he promised as he guided your head to rest against his chest. For the time being, Xiao just wanted to hold you close.

“I love you, too.” And with that, he sent you off into the sweetest of dreams.

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

➺ send in an ask to be added to or removed from my tag list

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

08 Reward

Zhongli x Reader / NSFW / Rex Lapis is actively ruling Liyue. He's called Morax in here / Reader is a mortal priestess of Rex Lapis / Bogus adeptal art truth spell / Manipulation and gaslighting if you squint / Gosh smut is so hard to write, how do yall do it? This took me way too long >_<

"You deserve a reward." A content rumble reached your ear.

"To be able to serve Rex Lapis is rewarding enough." You answered, drizzling the fragrant oils into his hair and massaging it into the individual strands.

He's always enjoyed moments of leisure like this, shedding all the formalities along with his robes. The water within the spring was translucent like a flawless piece of jade. The steam rising from its surface obscured your vision. Droplets of moisture clung to the archon's face and neck. You couldn't help but admire the artistry that was his face. The wet strands of his hair spilled between your fingers as you combed through them. His horns glinted like the finest cor lapis. Beads of water slid down his skin, tracing the curves and valleys of his body. It was a good thing that his eyes were shut. If he caught you gazing so intently at him, your dignified image would be done for.

As one of Rex Lapis's personal attendants, you also held the position of divine priestess during his rites. This was already the highest possible honor endowed to a mortal, to be allowed in such proximity with the god himself. What more could you possibly ask for?

"Oh, but I insist." He lifted his gaze, peering at you through veiled eyes.

For a god who graciously answered the prayers of his countless followers, how could he neglect the prayers of his most devoted priestess?

"My Lord, it is an honor—" Your words dissolved on your tongue. The pad of his thumb pressed against your lips.

How many times had he heard these lips utter his name in the deep of night? Did you truly believe your hands were enough to muffle those sounds you made? Did you really expect him not to notice the way your eyes linger on him when he wasn't looking your way?

His lips curled ever so slightly at the thought. You were such a determined pretender. Even though he saw right through you, to the rest of Liyue, you were untouchable, carrying yourself with such convincing aloofness. It was quite amusing, watching you conceal yourself to this extent.

You craved his attention. Every glance of approval and hum of satisfaction fed your unquenchable flame. On the surface, the love you had for your dear archon was not so unlike any other follower of Rex Lapis. If you were to pluck out all these inappropriate tendrils of longing, you were no different from his other priests. Your admiration was just as deep. If anything, living in Jueyun Karst amongst the adepti allowed you to see with your own eyes how blessed the people of Liyue were to have the guidance and protection of Rex Lapis. You never took your responsibilities lightly as an intermediary between the archon and his people, carrying out his orders and bringing back their earnest offerings.

Mortals asked for many things. Riches, health, children, these were amongst the countless prayers uttered at his statues. You had desires too, as did any mortal, but your prayers were not intended for his ears. If they were, he would be hearing them directly from you. You kept them carefully hidden, or so you thought. Little did you know, the stones, the earth, even the bricks in your wall, they were all permeated with his power. So naturally, whenever you acted on these frustrating desires, he was present in a sense.

At first, he was simply curious, intrigued by what you could possibly be so tortured by. As his priestess, you had no lack for food, clothes, nor shelter. He showered you with trinkets and gifts that you were free to exchange for mora if you wished to. You were also not restricted from seeking what mortals called love. What sort of unfulfilled desires could you harbor?

All of those musings came to rest when his name slipped from your lips one night. You were curled up in your bed, eyes tightly shut. He could tell you weren't asleep. Your breaths were shallow, slightly urgent, as were your heartbeats. There was a furrow in your brows as your cheeks burned with arousal.

You had just returned to your chambers after accompanying the archon at the Luhua Pools. This was often your state after fulfilling your duties. It was futile to deny how easily lust managed to overtake you. Perhaps Rex Lapis wasn't aware because no mortal ever dared to speak of him in that way, but everytime you untied his belt, you wondered if he had ever taken a mortal to bed.

Your archon was no stranger to lust. He recognized it in your eyes whenever you accidentally let it through. It was a different sort of experience, being the object of desire.

"What do you wish for, my sweet?" He asks. "Surely you must not take me for an ungenerous god."

"I don't have…" You trailed off.

Morax rose out of the water, letting it cascade down his chest and splash against the stone ledge. You swallowed. The predictable heat spread over you as your gaze swept down his body, resting where it what was obsured by the moving water.

"You do, dear. Whether you will ask for it, I would rather not wait and see, but you need not question it. It would be unfair of me to withhold what you deserve."

He leaned into you, lips ghosting over yours, but not allowing them to touch. He chuckled at how quickly you abandoned your words, eyes shutting like the sensitive petals of a glaze lily.

"You could never be unfair, my Lord."

"That is certainly a flattering presumption." He smiled appreciatively. "I grant you permission to use my name instead of my titles. You prefer to call me by name when you are alone, if I'm not mistaken."

Confusion rippled in your eyes for a moment before his words dawned on you.

"I don't mean any disrespect, my Lord."

The logistics of how he knew didn't even occur to you yet, but the fact that he knew what name you called him by in the privacy of your own chambers had you scrambling to clear your name.

"I am sure you don't intend it." He mused. "While speaking my name in that manner may indeed be considered disrespectful to some, I do not mind it from you."

"You don't mind?" Your face lit up.

He nodded. "You may consider it your first reward."

You drew in an anxious breath. "Morax?"

"Not quite how I imagine it would sound on your lips, but I do enjoy it." He remarked cryptically.

His face was still so close, much closer than he had ever been. Warm breath fanned over your skin. His hand took its time, patiently tracing a wet path from your cheeks, along your jaw, sweeping your hair over your shoulder to expose the curve of your neck.

In all the years of serving your archon, he had never touched you like this. Everywhere his hand visited, the fabric covering your body became translucent, soaked through with water. Your body trembled, mind wandering as your senses melted into an intimate haze. By the time his lips pressed into yours, you were already breathless.

At first, every kiss seemed to be counted. Be it on your forehead, your neck, or your shoulder, each one was laid with intent, a reward you had been waiting for. He delivered them without hesitation. The further they trailed away from your lips, the more generous and uninhibited they became. He showered your neck with attention, nipping gently and leaving faint marks. The occasional gasp escaped your lips as you arched your neck, allowing him more access to your skin. You unraveled so easily, he almost felt guilty for not rewarding you sooner.

You held your breath as his hand found the tie of your robe, pulling it loose. He peeled the soaked fabric away from your skin, finally letting his lips caress it without the obstructing layers. His teeth grazed your neck, stopping at your pulse. He abruptly bit down, causing your whole body to tense. Your heart raced in anticipation.

"Sensitive thing. Does that excite you?" He hummed.

You winced as he nipped you again, this time on your clavicle.

Your archon's hands were still busy with removing your clothes. He had to pull away briefly to finish the task. Your legs dangled over the edge, partially submerged in the water. He parted them effortlessly, standing between them as he brought you closer against him.

"If you don't voice your desires, how am I to know how to best reward you, hmm?" He stroked your face dotingly.

"Wouldn't a priestess of Rex Lapis be expected to rise above worldly desires?"

"I do not see it that way. You are still mortal and I will not hold that against you. Many want Mora from me. They want blessings, guidance, protection, all things they desire for me to do for them. Yet you, my sweet priestess…" His finger latch under your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. "You have no desire for gains."

"I don't know what you're saying."

Your shame would simply not allow you to admit that you lusted after your archon, even if he just called you out for it.

"Still denying it, I see." He smiled, raising a hand to free your bottom lip from your bite. "That will not do."

A bewitching glow emitted from the depths of from his amber pools. Your eyes became cloudy for a brief second before regaining clarity.

"My dearest priestess deserves to speak her mind." His breath tickles your ear as he whispered into it.

You nodded, not feeling anything out of the ordinary despite being certain that he had just done something to you. Your mind quickly flitted over what it could possibly have been, settling on one of his lesser-known abilities as the God of Contracts.

In the earlier days of Liyue's establishment, Rex Lapis was known to oversee contracts directly. He enacted harsh punishments for those who broke them. In order to prevent undermining from happening, he was rumored to use adeptal arts to force competing parties to speak openly and honestly in order to reach a mutually beneficial agreement. He couldn't read minds, but with a mere glance, he could have them spill their most guarded secrets. Such was necessary when it came to ensuring a fair and transparent contract. You weren't sure if that applied to you, but if he had in fact used adeptal arts on you, you would have no choice but to speak what was actually going through your mind.

"Now tell me, what did you truly mean to say?" The archon questioned you again.

"I was afraid you'd be disappointed in me." You thought aloud. "My devotion has become an abomination."

"Even gods are not immune to lust. Don't be so hard on yourself, my sweet." He purred, clearly pleased with your answer this time.

"You don't find it repulsive? That I imagine you in that way?"

"There is nothing that deems it wrong for you to desire me…"

You drew in an unsteady breath as he lowered his lips onto yours. The kiss was slow, but persuasive. You found yourself opening up for him, inviting his tongue in to sweep against yours.

His hands didn't remain, lowering onto your shoulders, making their way down to rest on your hips. You mirrored his intensity, getting bolder and more unrestrained. He chuckled against your lips, the deep vibrations sending tremors down your spine. This was the effect a little forced honesty had on you.

Fingers danced along your thighs, tracing the curve of your waist. You sucked in an unsteady breath when you felt his hands reach your chest. He fondled the soft flesh, paying attention to the sounds you made and the expressions on your face, adjusting his pressure according to your response. When the kiss ended, your lips were free to let out whatever sighs and moans came to it.

"I can see why mortals are so taken with pleasures of the flesh. My dearest, does this feel good?"

"Morax…" You panted as he lapped at your glistening slit. "I should be the one pleasuring you."

"Nonsense. It is challenging enough for me to find a way to reward you. I will not have you refusing it under the premise of who should be satisfying who."

He pulled your waist towards him, inserting his swollen tip into your sopping hole. You whimpered at the immediate stretch, arching your back off the ledge.

"I may even consider making this a reoccurance for you if you enjoy it enough." He rambled on as his cock began to massage your insides. "It's not as if I do not derive pleasure from this. You may consider it a mutually rewarding experience rather than an exclusive one."

Despite Morax claiming it was mutually rewarding, you couldn't help but feel inadequate. He groaned from time to time, but it was mostly you making all the noise. He was barely breaking a sweat while you were rendered incoherent, sobbing and crying as if you were being bullied.

"Dear, are you sure you're enjoying this?" He asked you, concern lacing his deep voice. This was your first time and he didn't want to leave you with an unpleasant experience. "You sound like you could use a rest. Would you like me to stop?"

"No!" You gasped as he slammed into you again. The smooth ledge met your back each time you took him to the hilt. "Don't stop!"

Some rewards were practical and required nothing of the recipient. Others were back-breaking, but worth the extra mile. This one was the later. The pleasure Morax was able to bring you far surpassed anything you could ever manage on your own. Whether it was Morax's tongue or his cock, he was not only able to reach deeper, but grind up against those spots that made your toes curl. With each thrust, you felt your mind break a little. Before you could catch your breath, another orgasm crashed into you, leaving you drenched and exhausted.

You had already come apart multiple times, but it was clear he could go on for at least a couple more rounds. All of this was seemingly effortless on his part, as if he was simply lifting a finger.

"Can't… Morax…" You pleaded desperately.

He slowed his movements to take a good look at you. Tears clung to your lashes and cheeks. Sweat dampened your hair, plastering it against your face and neck. Your legs were limp and covered in your own slick. The sight awakened something sadistic in him, but he knew better than to indulge that dangerous spark for longer than you could endure. He didn't want your reward to become his regret.

"A little longer, my sweet…" He lips brushed against your tearstained cheeks. "You can take it, hmm?"

You nodded tiredly. Anything for your beloved archon. What's a lovestruck priestess supposed to do, especially when asked in such a tone?

The warm, gushing water gave you some alleviation as his hands gripped your waist. As soon as his pace picked up, you wrapped your arms around his neck and braced yourself. You didn't have to wait long. Once his warmth flooded your insides, a sense of relief washed over you.

"Thank you." He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead once he had you all cleaned up and wrapped in a dry robe.

"What kind of cruel tart would I be if I didn't return the favor even once?"

"Do you understand why I insisted on rewarding you now?" He chuckled.

"That's different."

"How so?" He hummed. "I see everything you do, my dear. You must allow me to repay you in some way. As the God of Contracts, I cannot allow for a debt to go unpaid, especially my own."

"You better get used to it then." You shrugged. "Favors, you can tally up. Emotions and sentiments, you can't. Do you expect anything from the commonfolk for the millenia you watched over them?"

"Indeed I do not." He thought about what you said, agreeing with your line of reasoning.

"If my happiness means anything to you, then just do what you can to protect it. Isn't that what you've always done? Why are you overcomplicating it, hmm?" You teased the old god, using his own mannerism.

"Honesty has made you bold." He chuckled. "You are lucky I find everything you do endearing."

You face flushed at the reminder. "When does it wear off?"

"I will miss it. Allow me to enjoy it for a moment longer."

"I'm getting the feeling these rewards you're giving me are more rewarding for you than they are for me."

"Some things can be mutually rewarding, my sweet. It just so happens that I also find immense pleasure in what brings you pleasure." He smiled innocently.

[moraxsthrone]

omfg i'll take full responsibility for this, yes ma'am. *fans self* wooooo! ggguuuhhhhh if you do decide to further elaborate on this in the future, please do tag me. i don't even simp for childe, but this just hits different somehow. just sayin i'd let him lick it as long as zhongli's a willing and active participant. 👀💅🏼

— Strip TCG w/ Zhongli & Childe | genshin

⌗NOTE ; ty @moraxsthrone for this CRAZY idea.. kind of short but that's fine! I might add to this later...

⌗CONTENTS ; nsfw. threesome, fingering, oral (giving + receiving)

honestly why not play a little card game with the two of them but spicy it up a little? every one of you taking off an article of clothing each time you lose a round.

Zhongli can be quite competitive during this, but his end goal isn't to win the match it's more to see your strip. he watches as not only you, but Childe as well slowly stripping off an article of clothing each time you both lose to him.

Childe, i would say is just as competitive as Zhongli, if not more. he tries his best, maybe winning a match once or twice. though he pouts when he's in defeat, but.. he isn't so salty about it once he gets closer to being completely bare along with you two.

as the rounds get longer and the three of you are nearly stripped, the game is long forgotten as you put your focus on what's more important than this game... the rest of your clothes are discarded and tossed somewhere to the side, Childe's nested between your thighs, lapping up at your sobbing heat as Zhongli pays special attention to your chest.

Zhongli doesn't mind it either when you want to give him some attention down there, noticing just how eager and ready he was for you to finally take him in your mouth. the act was a bit difficult due to Childe's tongue moving skillfully against your clit, his digits rubbing against your sweet spot making you grind yourself down on his face.

Zhongli tugs on your locs when you're not paying enough attention to him, giving you a stern look as you return your eyes to him. his cheeks lightly flushed, letting out a low groan as you properly take him in your mouth. he loves the way you whine and hum around his cock, the beads of tears pricking at your eyes once it starts to get a bit too intense.

Both of them praise you when you're doing so good for them, despite the fact that they may be pushing your limits a bit. the way you let out such noises of pleasure, just from what they're doing was so nice to hear.

[gutouhua]

pairing. zhongli x f. reader

wc. 2.7k+

rating. explicit

tags. sort of canonverse, zhongli has ruts & dragon fangs, reader hails from mondstat, mentions of mates/mating, mentions of eating animal meat, zhongli is a perv for reader, zhongli calls reader ‘pet,’ age gap (reader is early-mid 20s, zhongli is biologically in early 30s), mentions of zhongli’s previous sexual relationships (dubcon), power dynamics, cervixfucking, overstimulation (sort of), zhongli wants to breed reader, pussydrunk zhongli, unprotected sex (pull out method)

a/n. MDNI! see end for notes

Zhongli had imagined it over a million times—taking you across the table and fucking your pussy. He knew you’d smell good down there, had scented it like a pervert in the days before your period—familiar lily mixed with strong musk and a tinge of metal. It made his fangs itch from the need to sink into your soft thighs and tongue at your slick folds.

Zhongli rutted in early spring, when trees blossomed and bore fat fruit—juicy peaches hanging heavy on thin branches. Sometimes he’d walk by them and look at them with an almost forlorn gaze. A deep ache in his body.

He wished that there was someone who would satiate his needs like seeds did to trees or bees with flowers. They mated with each other, year after year in a frenzy—a haze of powdery yellow spilling on every surface of Liyue Harbor. Zhongli didn’t have allergies, but even if he did, he would still love and envy the pollen.

It had been a long time since Zhongli had someone like that to spend his seasons with. A mate.

He’d drink copious amounts of lily bulb tea each spring to keep himself from fucking the first person who said yes to him, and would take himself into his hands with a furious passion every morning and night—even during work breaks—to relieve himself.

And it worked. He successfully passed multiple centuries of ruts like so, although it wasn’t always easy. As Morax, he was volatile—could pass for the Pyro Archon herself, Murata, but he tempered himself over the years, learning to be the composed man he was now.

But then you appeared, and the fire flared. Hutao’s newest intern—the first in nearly a decade, fresh. A slight little creature (although most people were small compared to Zhongli), and eager to learn about funeral services from Liyue’s very best. It was the first time you’d been to Liyue, so far from your home in Mondstat, and everything and everyone interested you.

I wonder if there’s a way to breed two creatures together to create an actual cocogoat. It’d be cool—Qiqi would be able to drink actual cocogoat milk, not that cheap substitute that Baizhu makes for her, and we’d be able to eat the meat. It’d taste good, right?

Zhongli chuckled, eyes soft on you. That would be a sight to behold. He didn’t mention that he’d been alive when cocogoats still roamed the Bishui Plains—a story for another time.

And then came the questions about himself.

Why are you so red, Zhongli-xiangsheng?

His rut came early this year for some reason, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. The lily bulb tea would suffice until he had a moment for himself.

But you had to make it difficult. So difficult for him.

Nothing, he murmured.

You grinned, stepping closer on tiptoes so your eyes leveled his chest. Soft rise and fall—imperceptible unless face to face like you were.

It doesn’t seem like nothing to me, Xiangsheng.

Zhongli fought the urge to inhale your soft scent. Sweet, powdery like lilies and dusk and something tender he wanted to bite—

—And he tasted blood in his mouth to stop his fangs from descending onto your exposed neck, nearly shook from the force it took to not bend you over his desk.

It would leave a mess. And Hutao would add it to his tab.

Even now you tempted him with coy glances, a bare shoulder, and sometimes a lingering touch in the space between his cuff and gloves—sharp like the sting of the formidable Raiden’s electro bolts.

“Do you want to know what I learned today, Xiansheng?” You had taken to calling him that instead of his mortal name one day. Zhongli wasn’t quite sure why, but he liked how it sounded on your lips.

He smoothed an invisible wrinkle from his suit and shuffled the papers on his desk while shifting to hide the stiffness in his pants. “Pray, do tell.”

You leaned forward, settling your weight on the heavy oak table. “I heard you’re rutting right now.”

Zhongli nearly choked on his tea. “What?”

“Rut, heat, season—Hutao told me.” You shrugged as if the topic was something mundane. “She said you rut every spring, but that it’s unusually strong this year for some reason. Something about the aura around you, I think. Why’s that?”

Because of you.

“Not sure,” Zhongli said.

“She also told me about that tea you drink.”

He nearly dropped his cup of tea. Damn the woman. Spilling all my secrets. And there wasn’t a single thing he could do—he was on her payroll.

“What about it?” he asked, trying for confidence.

“Lily bulb tea,” you continued, scrutinizing his cup, “apparently it helps calm you down and dampens the urge to fuck.”

Zhongli’s dick hardened.

“So does it?”

“What?”

“The tea. Does it help with your urges?” You jerked your head at the drink, curious.

Not when you’re around.

Zhongli had imagined it over a million times—taking you across the table and fucking your pussy. He knew you’d smell good down there, had scented it like a pervert in the days before your period—familiar lily mixed with strong musk and a tinge of metal. It made his fangs itch from the need to sink into your soft thighs and tongue at your slick folds.

He wasn’t sure what to say, but finally decided on: “Not really.”

You cocked your head to the side and bit your lips, Zhongli’s eyes following the pink tongue that peeked through. He wanted to bite them too. They’d be soft and break easily with a little bit of teeth—like almond tofu.

“Oh. Then what’re you going to do about it?”

“The usual.” Tea, masturbating, some rough fucking. Archons knew he’d need it tonight—some sort of distraction from you. He’d have to visit Madame Fang for an escort. She was used to his proclivities—would have someone able to take him.

“The usual? And what would that be?” Zhongli could almost picture you with a pen and paper in hand, a student eager for information.

He groaned internally. Now he was imagining you in a short skirt, stockings, maybe thigh highs—the fat of your thighs spilling from the top of the elastic. The image nearly had him spilling in his pants.

“I don’t think you’d want to know the particulars,” he said, his voice a soft rasp. He shifted again. “It might scare an innocent little girl like you.”

“Innocent?” You huffed. “Little? I’m a grown adult xiangsheng! I’m over the legal age—and actually much more than that. You can hardly call me little or innocent.”

“But you are,” he said indulgently, as one would towards a spoiled pet. “I am immortal, have fought and survived the Archon War. Tell me, pet, can you say the same?”

He was playing with you. Of course the two of you knew you couldn’t compare to him.

“But at the very least, you cannot consider me innocent. I’ve experienced enough things,” you muttered, annoyed.

Zhongli arched an eyebrow.

Before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, pushing you onto the desk in one fluid motion—papers scattering to the floor like spring pollen. Zhongli pinned your hands over your head to keep you in place, and knocked your legs apart to slot his large frame between you.

“W-What’re you doing, Zhongli?”

He smiled. And there it was: his name always slipped out when you got serious.

Xiansheng.

What?

Xiansheng. He moved closer, spreading your legs further apart as he drew closer to you. You could feel your stomach pressing tightly against the cotton of your suit with each breath, your chest straining against buttons. Don’t be so impolite when your boss is trying to school you.

Xiansheng.

Good girl, he rumbled. You were so curious about the specifics of my rut—what I do to satiate my needs. Shall I show you? They say firsthand experience is the best way to learn.

His voice was heavy, hot against your ear, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he darted a tongue out to lick the delicate shell of your ear.

So sensitive. I wonder if it’s the same in other places. Shall we find out?

Hutao had ordered him to be careful with you—a family friend. Your family owned the most successful funeral parlor in Mondstat, and they sent you to Hutao to learn how she conducted her business in Liyue. Zhongli had agreed. He could keep his hands to himself.

But then you showed up on the steps of Wansheng funeral parlor, and he knew he was fucked.

Do you want it, he whispered, I need to rut, but I always ask for permission.

Jealousy reared its ugly head. He’d done it with others—for decades, maybe even centuries, and it made sense, you couldn’t expect celibacy from him and yet…the thought of other people touching him made you want to rake your hands down his back, gouge, and suck every inch of his skin so others would know he was taken.

That he was yours.

What will it be, pet?

You nodded, eyeing the bulge in his pants. He was big. It was obvious, and it’d probably hurt. A tight fit.

Zhongli smiled—sharp teeth, predatory. I need words.

Yes.

No sooner did you give your permission did he slip your blazer off your shoulders and loosen just enough buttons to push your blouse up and over your head. You wore cotton—a simple white bra, and he wondered if you wore a matching set today.

He didn’t have to wait long to find out: you were already unzipping your pants, sliding stiff fabric down your legs, uncaring if it wrinkled. You’d have to remember to take it to the cleaners.

But later—now, you canted your hips forward, not caring about anything but the man in front of you.

So needy, he murmured, and wet.

His scent intoxicated you, his weight a delicious pressure against your skin.

Zhongli rocked against your clothed pussy, pleased to find you wet. You soaked through the cotton fabric, leaving an imprint in the shape of your pussy on your panties.

Fuck me, xiangsheng, please—I need it.

The scent of your arousal grew stronger with each tap against the wet spot. Heady, mind-numbing, as if a drug was coursing through his bloodstream. The amber of his hands grew darker, a deep, gorgeous fossilized hue, and his pupils thinned—they slitted into a sharp, almost feline countenance, predator to prey.

You would have me? he asked again, stars pulsing in his eyes. In his earlier days, before he was an archon, he had taken people without knowing what it really meant. The shame and guilt of it had made the act feel dirty for a long time—he went nearly fifty years without a single partner to help him through his ruts.

He would not make the same mistake with you.

Just fuck me.

He groaned, pulled your panties to the side—white cotton—and pushed himself into you, the entire length. It was tight and it burned as you struggled, walls stretching to accommodate his dick.

Feels so good, he grunted, you’re so tight, fuck. He lost himself in your tight heat, centuries of manners and poise melting before you.

He moved slowly at first, dragging his length out so that nothing but the tip remained inside before thrusting back in.

You shifted backward, trying to adjust to him. Soft pants, shallow—eyes squeezed shut to focus on each heavy stroke in and out of your cunt. When you started moving against him, seeking friction for yourself, Zhongli sped up. Kept most of his cock inside you with each stroke, prodding around for your sweet spot.

When he finally found it, earning a cry and squeeze around his cock that nearly made him cum, he smiled. Right there, pet?

You gasped, struggled to answer: Yeah, yeah-right there—

He continued to thrust, imprinting your insides with the shape of his dick, hitting that sensitive spot with almost boyish eagerness, but it still wasn’t enough to—

—You reached down to where his dick is splitting you apart and try to rub your clit, the hard nub aching for attention, but Zhongli pushed your hand away.

Allow me.

You almost whine—denial twisting your stomach into a tight knot, leaving your clit wanting, but he didn’t make you wait long. Deft fingers rubbed circles on your clit, grinding, until it swelled enough for him to pinch, hard.

Zhongli, please—

What did I say pet, he hummed and bit your earlobe in admonishment.

Xian-Xiansheng—

You were begging now, pleading—tears dripping from your face like fresh paint on canvas.

Please, xiansheng, please, I need it.

What do you need? He thrust forward, the head almost kissing your cervix.

Need…

Need what? Use your words, pretty pet. Another hard thrust, this time he touched your cervix. Half pain, half pleasure. Lines slowly starting to blur—was it because of his dick or your tears? You couldn’t tell.

You shook your head and fisted your hands in the collar of his suit, wrinkling the fine material as you dragged his face towards you to claim a kiss. Harsh and unyielding, a faint taste of iron between each ragged breath. Now you’d have to take two suits to the cleaners.

Vaguely, in the back of your mind, you’d forgotten how you even got into this situation in the first place. Something about lily bulb tea, alone time…and ruts…heats. Heat—were you the one in heat or was it him?

But it didn’t matter, all you knew was that:

Need to cum.

Zhongli’s pretty lips curled. And so you shall.

With one hand on your hips, he slammed his hips against yours in a punishing rhythm while his other hand battered your clit, thick fingers flicking the hard nub repeatedly until you felt nearly numb from the overstimulation. He felt you tense beneath him, hips rolling incessantly, your cunt gripping him so tightly he knew he was close.

Cum for me, he demanded, almost growling, give it to me.

And you obeyed—gave yourself over to the pleasure, moaning from the waves of pleasure washing over you.

Zhongli groaned as you contracted around him, each tight draw from your pussy taking him closer to his own release. Hips stuttering, he felt his fangs slip through, throbbing from the desire to taste you, bite you, mark you—

—Breed you.

It was messy, each time he pulled back and saw the amount of slick that coated his cock, his mind grew fuzzier, almost stupid. Zhongli couldn’t remember the last time he felt pussydrunk—

You bit the side of his neck as another orgasm ripped out of you, and this time Zhongli let himself go with a harsh growl, pulling out right as he cummed, thick ropes of sticky cum defiling your stomach. It was dizzyingly maddening: his cum moving with each shaky exhale, dripping onto your pussy, and Zhongli thought it was such a waste that it wasn’t inside you, filling you up. Some of it covered your clit—a glistening pearl. He fought every fiber of his being to not bend down and lick it. He didn’t like sweet things, but you were an exception.

“Did you learn a lot?” he finally asked after your breath had steadied a bit.

You were still coming down from your high, barely able to form a coherent sentence. “What?”

“I was teaching you,” he chuckled, voice husky. “Were you a good student? Paying attention?”

You thought about it for a moment. Looked at his disheveled appearance, his golden eyes, the wrinkles in his suit, and found it lacking.

“Not enough.”

“I am in agreement.”

Hutao narrowed her eyes. “You fucked him.”

“And what if I did? It’s not like you’ll fire me,” you replied lightly.

Hutao groaned. “I knew you wanted to fuck him, but I didn’t think you wanted to do it that badly. It’s not exactly good for my business, and you know he’ll stick to you for the rest of his season, right? That’s how it works for him. He doesn’t share.”

“Well good. Because I don’t either.” You wouldn’t have chosen him anyway if he liked to share. “But wait—what do you mean ‘not exactly good for your business?’”

The Wangsheng Director grinned at you. “Look at him: one of the most eligible bachelors in Liyue. Didn’t you notice that we have a large number of young clients? They come to Wangsheng because of him. I don’t care who Zhongli fucks as long as they give me their money—it keeps my beloved Wangsheng as the most profitable funeral parlor in Liyue.”

“Of course you would say that.” You laughed and thought about all the times your parents praised Hutao. “No wonder my parents sent me here to learn from you.”

Hutao winked. “Of course! Making money is the second best thing I’m good at.”

“What’s the first?”

“Death.”

uhhh i wrote this one about six-ish months ago too...been busy with zine work but hopefully when I'm done I can write more reader insert smut :') (also sorta tried a new style of dialogue lmao back when I wrote this)

Murata, also known as the God of War and the Lady of Fire, was a Pyro Archon and a member of The Seven who presided over Natlan.

先生 - xiānsheng. Has two main definitions: the first is teacher, the second is mister (Mr); gentleman; sir. Both suit Zhongli very well in this fic ;)

Dried lily bulb【百合】 is usually recommended in TCM (traditional Chinese medicine) clinics to treat coughs, dry throats and relieve heat. (But IRL, this doesn’t actually help with the horny feels LOL.) 

Zhongli as Morax has darker brown/amber skin tone on arms, so I chose to depict this in the fic as skin darkening when aroused. I also put a photo of something similar on an actual body. 

[the-travelling-bitch]

𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

summary: you’ve not seen your boyfriend in a while, so when you call his name he’s ready to please 

pairing: xiao x fem! reader (no pronouns used)

warnings: very soft, some good ol’ love making, f! masturbation, fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), mating press, unprotected sex (stay safe everyone!), marking if you squint

The bed felt cold as you tried to get comfortable underneath the covers. But without the familiar weight of two strong arms wrapping around your waist, you just kept tossing and turning.

When was the last time you could spend some quality time with your boyfriend, let alone could get lost in each other’s touch? With the Lantern Rite upon you, more and more evil spirits found their way onto the mortal plane and Xiao was out hunting them down near constantly. You understood, of course. Liyue’s safety was the top priority and you’d never fault him for doing his Morax- sworn duty…

But you were needy, so incredibly needy.

It started when you came home from your commissions, exhausted and in dire need of a bath. Somewhere in the back of your mind, the tiny hope that Xiao would be there to greet you had taken root. Instead of the adeptus, you were merely met with silence and an empty house.

With a sigh, you drew yourself a bath and rooted through your closet for some comfortable clothes. Pretty quickly your fingers closed around familiar fabric and a tug later you held one of Xiao’s shirts in your hands… He’d forgive you, you decided. You needed the comfort of his scent around you now.

After soaking in the warm water until your fingers turned slightly pruney and drying yourself off, you slipped his shirt on and melted into the soft material. You decided to call it a day and got ready for bed without any rush. When you slid under the covers, there was still no trace of Xiao, so with a sigh you closed your eyes.

Just for sleep not to find you. In the pale moonlight of your bedroom, your thoughts kept drifting to your boyfriend and although it started very innocently, they soon spiralled into territory that would’ve made the elders in town gasp in indignance. And before you even considered stopping yourself, your hands started to wander.

You barely applied any pressure with your fingertips, your touch merely a whisper as Xiao appeared before your mind’s eye. The way he’d trace the sensitive areas of your body, worshipping you as if you were the most delicate flower and paying attention to how you reacted to his every action.

He’d lean down to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning your cheek as he told you to relax, leave it all to him, let him take care of you. Slightly dipping your fingers into the waistband of your pants, you slid them back up your stomach, the cold sensation of your fingers making goosebumps rise in their wake and pulling the hem of Xiao’s shirt up a few centimetres.

As you pinched one of your hardening nipples and gave it a light tug to feebly imitate the way he’d close his lips around it, lightly gracing his sharp teeth along your flesh, you could almost see his amber eyes gazing down at you, drinking in the sight in front of him. The mere fantasy of him so close to you again had your thighs rubbing together in search of some friction. You shuddered at the memory of him kissing down the valley of your breasts, mapping the planes of your abdomen with his lips even if he already knew every curve of your body.

At this point, you couldn’t tease yourself any further. It had been too long since you felt the pleasure of his attention and you were craving to release some of this tension. Unceremoniously, you stripped out of your pants and settled on top of the sheets before dragging your fingertips up the inside of your thighs.

There was already a wet patch forming on your panties as you teased your fingers over your slit. Xiao’s absence had made you so sensitive, the featherlight touch was enough to have your legs twitching, a little bit of pressure against your neglected clit enough to have you gasping for air. 

Impatiently, you slid the obstructing material down your legs, feeling your slick connect to the seat of the panties before snapping against your skin as the garment was left to hang from one of your ankles. 

Collecting some of your arousal with your middle finger, you ran it through your folds before pushing past the muscles of your entrance. For the first initial moments it felt good as you slowly worked the digit in and out of you but it quickly turned out to be not nearly enough to stimulate you.

Perhaps Xiao’s attentive care had spoiled you rotten and ruined you for everyone else, even yourself, but sooner rather than later you added a second finger. Finally, you felt yourself stretch just a little as more slick coated the palm of your hand but you still couldn't reach quite as far as your boyfriend’s skilled fingers could; not to mention, how heavenly the strokes of his dick felt against your velvety walls.

The effort of trying to bring yourself to the edge of pleasure had you panting just a bit but it became pretty clear you needed more stimulation than just your digits pumping rhythmically in and out of you. So, as your free hand found its way back under your shirt to massage the fat of your tit, your thumb clumsily rubbed little circles over your clit. While it wasn’t quite the same, it still had one or the other moan spill from your lips as you felt a familiar coil tighten in your stomach. 

Under your passionate touches, your spine slightly arched off the mattress as you clenched your eyes shut, picturing before you sweat-slicked teal bangs and sharply bright eyes. In anticipation of teeth gracing your pulse point and lips wrapping around the sensitive area below your throat, you craned your neck and threw your head back to give your imaginary partner easy access to do as he pleased. Before it registered in your mind, a single breathy syllable passed your lips and lingered in the air and…

“Xiao~”

The effect was instantaneous. Your general state of pleasure made you unaware of the black and green smoke at the end of your bed, the cutting glare scanning the room for enemies before widening at the sight in front of him.

In a motion very unlike him, the jade spear slipped from his grasp and clattered obnoxiously on the floor, alerting you to the presence of someone else there with you. Desperately, your mind tried to catch up to what was happening but before you could fully blink into consciousness, a familiar weight had already straddled your waist and a gloved hand cradled your neck to lead you into a searing kiss.

Under normal circumstances, Xiao wouldn’t have been so rash but really, the prolonged withdrawal from you also took a toll on him. And then, to be suddenly presented with the most sinful view of all, his patience ran thin. From his vantage point, he could see the shaking of your thighs, the curve of your chest and, most importantly of all, your fingers desperately working that glistening pussy of yours. All of this, as he now noted, while dressed merely in his shirt, staking his involuntary but not unwelcome claim over you.

“Xiao?” You broke away from his kiss to allow your lungs some air. “What are you doing here? I thought you were-”

“You called me,” he merely stated. “And now I’m here to please you.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, yet still linked your hands behind his head and pulled him down to bridge the gap between you again.

“But I want to,” he whispered against the corner of your mouth, his thighs meeting the back of yours as he leaned over you. “Being away from you for so long was hard on me too.”

Gently but deliberately, Xiao caught the wrist of your hand that was fingering your core and brought it up to his mouth as he sat back on his haunches before wrapping his lips around your coated fingers. Whilst his tongue swirled around your digits, you could feel his sharp teeth graze your skin, teasing you by pretending to bite down. You knew he would never hurt you but feeling their sharp edges press into the pads of your fingers as he sucked the last of your arousal off of them made adrenaline course through your veins and the hairs in the back of your neck rise.

“I almost forgot how good you taste,” he groaned, golden eyes fluttering closed. Then, the yaksha’s weight lifted off of you as you felt the mattress dip under the shift of his weight. Your breath got caught in your throat as he guided your legs to rest on his shoulders, slipping your panties off your ankle and curling his arms around your thighs to keep you open for him. Xiao closely studied how your soaked pussy clenched under his gaze and in one swift motion, he pulled his gloves off with his teeth and discarded them. Lightly tracing through your folds, he mumbled more so for himself, “So pretty…”

“Xiao,” you moaned, thighs twitching in his hold as he blew a puff of air against your core. “Please touch me, I really need you.”

There was no need to tell him twice. With fervour, he licked a fat stripe up your pussy, his tongue flicking deliciously against your clit before diving straight into your fluttering hole. Despite the long absence, Xiao still knew your body like the back of his hand. In no time, your body was twisting on the bed as whines and whimpers spilled freely into the night’s air, spurring him on to tighten his grip on you. 

Normally, he’d shush you softly, reprimanding you to keep still so he could continue pleasing you. But today he just let you writhe under the assault of his tongue as he watched the euphoria cross your face. The vibration of his groans as you pulled him closer by his teal locks felt heavenly, the sensitivity from your lost orgasm still drumming through your veins.

The attention of his mouth shifted to your clit, wrapping his lips around the little nub and gently sucking on it as his fingers replaced his tongue. You could see the muscles in his arms flex with every movement against you and it sent more heat straight to your core. In an act of desperate selfishness, your heels pressed into his shoulder blades as your toes curled to ride out your approaching high on his scissoring digits. The sound of you chanting his name over and over as your pussy clenched down on him had his hips involuntarily rutting against the mattress to alleviate some of his need.

“Xiao, I’m so close,” you whined. “Please keep going.”

Curling his fingers forward into the spongy spot which made you see stars, he coaxed your orgasm out of you, greedily drinking up all your juices and not letting a single drop go to waste while you twisted your hands tighter into his hair.

Through the fog of pleasure you vaguely realised Xiao lifting himself off of you but before you could calm your breathing, he had already resumed sitting between your legs. With the ghost of a trace, his knuckles ran over your temple, pushing matted hair out of eyes. You repaid his gesture in kind, raking your nails over his scalp as he pressed caring kisses against your still racing pulsepoint, leaving faint hues of purples and reds to decorate the canvas that was your neck and shoulder.

“How are you feeling, love?” He whispered, deft hands massaging the flesh of your thighs which were caging in his slim waist. “Do you wish to continue?”

Bucking your hips up into his, earning groans from both of you, you chuckled breathlessly. “Xiao, I swear to the Archons, if you don’t fill me up…”

“I recall a certain human saying,” he mirrored your playful grin, “warning mortals to be careful what they wish for.”

Any form of witty remark died in your mouth as his fingers dug back into the flesh of your thighs as his warm length dragged through your folds, coating himself in your slick and his precum. The sensation of his cockhead catching your clit on every upward motion had you choking back whimpers as the knot in your stomach started tightening again.

As much as Xiao was awed by the sight of tears of pleasure watering your lash line, his patience was wearing incredibly thin and the need to be buried in you was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. 

“Are you ready, dear?”

“Yes, Xiao,” your need evident in those eyes he could lose himself in, “please make us feel good.” 

Lifting one hand off your leg, he aligned himself with your entrance before slowly pushing in. Even after all this time, Xiao still stretched you so well; just the mushroom tip had you gripping the sheets like a lifeline. Yet, you still encouraged your partner to keep going deeper until, eventually, he was buried balls deep inside.

After giving you some much needed time to adjust to his cock resting inside of your walls, Xiao started pulling out a little and thrusting back in without any rush, setting a slow but deep pace which had you feeling every vein decorating his shaft. The more your sweet noises increased in volume, the more strength he put into the movements of his hips, knocking the wind out of your lungs.

In one fluid motion, your legs were hoisted back over his shoulder as the adeptus leaned more of his weight on you and pressed your thighs towards your chest with his body alone. With his hands now free, Xiao could reach around your intertwined bodies to pin your wrists down against the sheets, which were now freed of the deathgrip you had on them. 

Somehow, this position always made him reach so much deeper than before, your cunt spasming around his dick when his pelvis ground against your clit. In combination with how effortlessly he seemed to hit all your sensitive spots, it had your back arching into his touch and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. And, as if to seal your fate completely, Xiao dove down to lock your lips and steal all remaining air from your lungs. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, finally slightly out of breath as well, as he smeared a messy kiss against your forehead. “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too,” you sobbed into his shoulder as another wave of pleasure licked up your spine and set your veins ablaze. “I’m… not gonna last…”

“Neither,” he panted, “I’m almost there, love.”

Bringing one of your linked hands up, he pressed a quick peck onto your knuckles before letting go and letting his fingers drift back to your sweat-slicked chest, pushing his shirt up to expose your breasts to the night’s air. Rolling one nipple between his thumb and index finger, he engulfed the other in the warmth of his mouth and lavished it in the attention of his tongue. 

Meanwhile, your free hand was slung over his back to keep him close. On a particularly well angled thrust, however, you dug your fingernails into his skin, no doubt leaving some nasty half moons to decorate his shoulder blade. The low grunt against your tit and the twitch of his cock against your insides had your core tightening, clamping down on him like a vice. You were sure there was no need in telling him, no doubt he was already well aware, and still…

“I’m close, Xiao,” bounced off the walls, flowing into the symphony of lewd noises filming the room as your lover readjusted his grip on your trembling thighs.

“That’s it, let go,” he breathed quietly, yet you still heard him so clearly. “Cum for me, love.”

With his encouragement you fell off the edge, lightning shooting through your limbs and stars dancing before your eyes. Chasing his own high and fucking you through yours, Xiao straightened up and held your legs down with his hands again, watching your marked up breasts bounce with each thrust whilst the rhythmic pulse of your walls encouraged him to spill deep inside of you.

And that was just what he did.

Comfortingly familiar warmth flooded your insides as your partner sloppily rode out his orgasm before slumping forward into your embrace. Your hand stroked calmingly along the length of his spine as you felt his cock softening inside of you with a last few twitches.

“I love you,” you mumbled sleepily, stifling a yawn against his shoulder. Now, with your energy spent and your beloved’s arms holding you, it was getting harder and harder to fight off the tempting pull of sleep.

Careful not to disturb you too much, Xiao slowly pulled out and watched his cum drip from your hole. On other nights, the sight might have made him pounce on you again but this time, he simply wanted to lie next to you as you fell asleep in his embrace. Giving each knee a sweet kiss, he set them down and stretched them out gently before sliding next to you and pulling the covers over you. He’d clean you up later, he promised as he guided your head to rest against his chest. For the time being, Xiao just wanted to hold you close.

“I love you, too.” And with that, he sent you off into the sweetest of dreams.

if you want to be added to my tag list, send in an ask ♡

[diyahatnight]

Warnings: This is smut with a bit of dialogue, so read with caution. Nothing too crazy though. Angst, nd smut all in one.

Minor’s dni

angst/fluff version

Xiao x F!reader

Summary: Your boyfriend lost his memory of you so you have to find a way to help him get it back. on your knees giving him a blow job.

Notes: I haven’t written smut in a while so i’m a little rusty.

Your boyfriend has a job, and that job is protecting Liyue and staying loyal to Morax aka Zhongli. He told you that he would be leaving to go on a trip with Zhongli, and you didn’t mind. You didn’t have anything to worry about since he would be with an archon. Plus he is a strong man himself.

2 months go by without seeing Xiao and Zhongli. You went to the funeral parlor to see if he had returned and hu-tao told you he was still gone. You started to worry but not much because he never mentioned how long he would be gone.

More days pass by without seeing your boyfriend until one day you hear a knock at the door. You go to open it and you see Zhongli and your boyfriend at the door. You greet Zhongli first, then you run to give a hug to Xiao but for some odd reason, he backed away.

You both looked at Zhongli, Xiao’s look was more of a ‘why is this crazy woman running after me’ and yours was ‘with.”

He explained to you that during this trip, they encountered some fighting. He almost got hit by some odd beam and Xiao being Xiao, he jumped in its way erasing every memory he’s had of you and with you.

He then had to explain to Xiao that you were his girlfriend of 5 years and you were gonna help and try getting his memory back. Then he left.

You told him to come inside the house and he obliged. You showed him many things to see if he’d remember any of them and he didn’t. You showed him photos and the clothes in your shared closet. You even showed him something explicit and all he did was blush and disappear.

It’s been a month since he’s lost his memory and it’s a nightmare. He won’t even touch you. You’ve spent nights crying yourself to sleep because you aren’t making any progress. You’ve been together for 5 years and it only took a month to get him to at least kiss you and put his arms around your body.

After about 3 months you had him opened up. He was a sweet, caring, touchy, talkative, and sexual lover boy. But now it just feels like it’s all been thrown away.

it feels like he’s been forced to date you and that didn’t sit right in your tummy.

but one night Xiao goes into your home to pick up something of his. You were on your last limb, you didn’t know what to do you just wanted your boyfriend back. You were going to get married one day.

You stood up out of bed and when he saw this he started to walk away. was he avoiding you?

“Wait please, don’t leave. I need you.”

You desperately say and he stops walking and turns to face you. You walk closer to him and when you meet face to face, you burst into tears and drop to your knees.

“Please I’m begging you you please remember me. I don’t want to lose you. I need you.”

You bury your head into his thigh as you say this and it shocks him but he doesn’t go anywhere, or say anything. You sit there crying for a minute then look up.

When you look up, you notice that you are face to face with his sensitive area. You wipe your tears as you start to get an idea. He knew that you begged for a lot and that you had your specific way of begging your boyfriend for stuff.

You start to pull on the rim of his pants because it was worth a shot.

“What are you doing, mortal-… girlfriend I suppose.”

“I’m about to show you something that may help you remember if that’s okay with you?”

He shook his head yes, in his defense he had no idea what you were gonna do. Even after his soft cock flopped out of his pants he still had no idea what was happening until you started placing soft kisses on it to get it hard. sending shivers down his spine.

“W-what are you doing?” he says holding his breath.

You knew how to get him turned on. Rubbing his thigh, running your hands down his chest, kissing his neck, or wearing something revealing. If regular Xiao was here, the little kisses on his cock would be a death sentence for you.

After those 3 small kisses, xiao was rock hard. Before he met you he knew what sex was but he didn’t know how it worked as he wasn’t experienced so he was kinda confused but kinda curious.

You planted your signature kiss directly on his angry blushing pink tip, already leaking pre cum. You grabbed his shaft and started licking along his cock, his breathing starting to hitch.

You stuff half of his dick in your mouth, licking it in the meantime. Then you push his entire cock down your throat. Earning a cute breathy moan from him.

You take his cock out of your mouth and start to lick at it again, you can tell he is starting to get frustrated by the way it starts to twitch in your grasp. You shove his entire length down your throat again and start to fuck him with your throat, gagging and choking on his cock.

At this time he is moaning and groaning. He starts to remember a couple of things and when he does he grabs onto your hair to take control of throat fucking you. You tap on him to get him to pull you off and allow you to get some air which he did.

After, he pushed your head back down on his cock desperately fucking your throat trying to chase his orgasm. You look at him from that angle of you on your knees, mouth stuffed full of his cock. You noticed his golden eyes start to pierce into your own and that’s when more memories started rushing back to him, mostly the explicit ones of you. He throws his head back tightening his grasp on your hair like he’s about to cum, moaning louder.

In an instant he pulls you off his cock and looks down at you. That's how you notice that a lot of his memories have returned by the way he admires the slobber on your mouth and his cock.

He sits down on the bed still staring at you. His hand lets go of your hair to balance himself on the bed. He’s remembered everything, good memories, bad memories, sexual memories, them all. That doesn’t mean he wanted you to stop.

He uses his hand again to push your face back down to his cock, before you start sucking on his pretty penis again, you flash a quick smile at him.

In a quick motion, you shove his length back down your throat which earns a small moan and a breathy whimper. Your sucking on his cock so eagerly which eventually gets him to shoot his warm thick cum in your mouth.

Pulling back up off his shaft, you swallow his orgasm. which causes him to say.

“Ew, you didn’t have to swallow it..” with a very tiny smirk.

“I wanted to though,” you say as he uses his thumb to get the cum that lingers in the corner of your mouth and pushes that thumb past your lips for you to suck it clean…

I might make another version of this but a fluff

[otakuworks]

❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au

feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | PART II | wc. 5.4K

Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' webtoon | overview. This Webtoon follows the story of a woman who somehow can remember all her past lives.

sum. You were running too fast in life, so fast that no one could catch up, not even Morax who left you to fend off with your curse. Just when you thought you'll slip and fall, a certain consultant came behind and caught you.

cw. mentions of extreme emotion breakdown. cttro 双niarss on Twitter for the art below.

main m.list genshin m.mlist

PART I < PART II

THEME SONG; Slump by Stray Kids (English Version)

There are five stages of grief; Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression and Acceptance. All in order.

In your case, it was the other way around. You have long accepted Morax will lay on his deathbed one day, every living thing will eventually cease to exist, mortal and immortal alike

You, out of all people know the in-depth concept of death.

And yet, no amount of tutelage or experience can prepare you for the real thing.

Now you understood what Morax felt when you died.

Your chest feels raw like there's a sudden gash wound that has manifested in your heart. It was painful, too painful that you wouldn't wish it upon anyone, even on your worst enemy.

Scratch that. It's not just pain. It feels something more destructive, demanding and insatiable, crueler than sorrow. Not even death can appease this feeling.

It was agony.

Impale your abdomen with a spear hundred times. Sever your limbs every lifetime. Suffer for all eternity hiding behind Morax and watch him love with someone else over and over again— you'd take them all and say thank you.

You'd be grateful and endure each of them just to trade whatever horrible feeling that's tearing you apart.

Confusion, terror and fright blanketed your mind as you slumped on the floorboards, desperately gasping for breath.

The acrid smell of snarling lightning crackles in the stale midnight air, sharp enough to singe every nerve of your body, rendering you cowering in overwhelming emotions— agony, pain and grief.

Inazuma was bustling with the news of the Geo Archon passing away recently. You could only imagine how Liyue is digesting the cruel twists of events.

The news spreads fast enough for foreign people to sympathize to Liyue citizens, some even offered prayers to the Raiden Shogun, some pay their respects by wishing the late Archon to rest in peace, some never bothered to care.

But none of them mourned in the confinements of their four walls as you did, the Celestia above knows the quiet sobs that wrecked the very core of your existence. The horrors of every shitty lives you went through cannot be compared to this day.

Rex Lapis, who is— was widely known for many names, mostly as the Geo Archon, God of War, God of Contracts, Former Prime Adepti, the Stonebreaker, God of History is now reduced by dust with his people carrying the legacy he has passed on.

To you, all this time, he's still... Morax the petulant child who leans on you for comfort, who politely demands you to sing a lullaby as kids. You're already sold to the idea no one would ever believe you if you told them what embodiment of mischief he was in the ancient times, the exact opposite of the Archon they knew about.

Nostalgia hits you in particular days you can't find traces of the young Morax, but Pride would caress your heart every achievement he succeeds as you watch the people love him.

Similar to a lone planet, you desperately search for a star to orbit around, to give you a source of energy and strength. Once you find one, it'll be difficult to rearrange your position after you have settled down, you're attached until the star loses its amber glow.

And now the star is gone. Gone with the cosmos after a supernova.

Destroying the neighboring planets, including you.

You were the closest in its orbit, you're the one who had to endure the scorching flames morphing you into ashes until you're reduced into cosmos particles for no one to remember.

Morax left you to fend off with your curse and face adversities alone.

Mortals would succumb to these adversities and would choose to sever their connection to the living to escape from everything. You've seen a handful of them and can't ever get enough of it.

If there's anything you long to have other than having Morax beside you is a swift escape.

Every mortal is capable of such thing, you are too, but it's pointless if the pain will cling to you in your next life. It's fruitless to cry when you know every affliction won't be forgotten even if you tried.

Just why?! Why do I have this perpetual curse of reincarnation? I abhor you, Celestia! Not only you cursed me, you even took away Morax from this land!

You shake your head as the anger surge took over your sanity. You thought you can just go live your merry life, unbeknownst how dependent you were to Morax.

Your will to live is solely operated by the fact you have someone you want to protect. But now he's gone? What's the back up plan? Clearly you can't just follow him in his death knowing you can die, but your memories will remain with you.

Was it out of selfishness to protect him to have someone accompany your lonely soul? Because he's the only one who actually remembers the real you?

Rain began to pour from the desolute atmosphere as you heard disembodied voices theorizing Morax's death. The muffled thundering of the storm only growing louder, reminding you of today's unsavory news. How convenient, the sky is sympathizing.

No, make it stop! I don't want fo hear any of it! Morax is dead, that's how nature works. I'm griefing because it hurts, not because I have nothing to live for.

You lived in that illusion for minutes until. . .

*drip* *drip*

. . . the dam broke.

Hot tears streamed down your face, and you squeezed your eyelids shut in the hope the pain would stop, just numbing it would be fine too. Your choppy breathing and watery eyes remained for quite some time, and sat there unmoving.

There's no see you later's anymore, for Morax has left you. Today has marked your first Goodbye to him.

For an indiscernible amount of time, there was only a black void and it could have been as if you didn’t exist and you had never existed.

And then you felt each of your cells that had been ripped apart within seconds be sewed back together just as quickly, and your eyes met nothing but a blinding white light.

Have I reborn again? You're not aware which is which anymore. You lift your numb hand and reality crashed over your head, you haven't died out of grief, yet.

Your mind is in havoc, you don't know what you want, not that you have any choice.

Dying won't help you escape, forgetting is not an option, loving. . . can't heal an open wound.

No words can equate the absolute devastation you feel.

❖ ── ✦ ── 『 6000 YRS AGO 』 ── ✦ ── ❖

This is stupid. Utterly ridiculous!

What kind of mortal would go in the mines in the middle of the night where monsters lurk in the shadows to hunt for preys? Yeah, that's a question he would like for you to answer!

He flies twice the speed he usually exerts, his mind running rampant of all worst possible scenarios.

He doesn't know what compelled you to do such ridiculous act, but all he knows is he has get to you before any monsters do.

Landing unceremoniously, he gulps at the sight before him. He was never a fan of darkness, it never fails to instill fear in him, the fear of the unknown.

The only time he feels comfortable in the night is whenever you're around him. You don't fear the night, and it somehow influenced him in a way that there's nothing that should be afraid of as long as you're with him— as his human shield.

Young Morax finds himself slowly withdrawing, the fear overpowering his will to come and save you.

"Morax? What are you doing out here?" Saved by the gracious voice of yours, young Morax nearly broke his neck with how fast he looked at your direction.

Your face is contorted out of concern for him, he's sweating profusely and his breathing is ragged.

Just seeing you all in one piece with no signs of injuries made hin slumped on the ground, sighing in relief.

You were at his side seconds later, subconsciously caressing his cheeks. Celestia above! He's shaking like a leaf!

"It's alright, let's get you out of here." Your soothing voice appeased his troubled mind as you helped him get back on his feet. He clutches the fabric of your shirt and wordlessly launches himself on you, arms and tiny tail entrapping you in an embrace.

You waste no second reciprocating the gesture, you've known him for months to be comfortable with physical sentiments. Though you can't say the same to him as he would always flinch away when you initiate it, but has no problem when he does it.

And it seems like he needs your comfort to even give a damn.

"Whatever it is, it can't hurt you now okay?"

From that angle, he peered from below you as if confirming the validity of your words, amber eyes looking like someone has kicked an innocent puppy, it's no wonder you have a soft spot for him.

Both of you strayed away from the caves leading to mines, "I-I thought you l-left me." He meekly mumbled, almost incoherent.

That baffles you as he continues, "I overheard f-from your village that m-monsters are increasing in the area and you're probably..."

"Shh... I'm here now, aren't I? I'm sorry you have to hear that, I can assure you I haven't encountered any marauding monsters during my little excursion." You sighed, guilt pooling your conscience.

He sniffled, "So, you're not going to leave me?"

"Can I even go anywhere when you have a sharp sense of smell?"

"I'm a dragon, not a wolf." He whined, though you could still see the glint of dubious in his eyes, "Can I trust your word?"

Words never served him better than actions, you ought to show him you honor your word by affirming it through gestures.

Smiling, you offered your hand to him.

"How about you hold my hand on our way home? Will that help?" He stares at you and literally contemplated before he relented.

It's warm, much similar to your hug, but like a form of hug that has been reduced to a smaller fraction. It's still a paragon of comfort.

Surely enough, it did help his mind to be at ease. If you ever feel like he's cutting off your circulation, he is cutting your circulation by intertwining your fingers as if trying to tangle it so it won't loose.

"I'm sorry, you must think I'm stupid for cowering away just because of some stupid dark cave." He lowered his head in shame.

He's a Dragon who has greater strength than most beings, and yet he lets his fear consume him as if they can hurt him like how—

"Nonsense! Don't ever think like that or I will personally be the reason why you should fear humans." As stern as you sound, your eyes tell a different story.

Young Morax deduced this as concern, which resulted a flustered and heartwarming reaction from the boy. You were worried for him.

It shouldn't be something he's supposed to feel happy about, but your fretful intentions warranted warmth and security in his mind.

"I didn't know how oddly. . . pleasant it is to hold hands." He mused, and you responded with an amused giggle, "Here I thought only couples do this stuff, but it's really reassuring."

"It does, doesn't it? Sometimes the solution to your conflicts is in a form of validation."

Too wise for a kid, he inwardly complained, ". . .Meaning?"

You hold his other hand and stood to face him with a sequined smile, "No matter how minuscule or massive your fears are, you'll still find comfort when someone validates your feelings; to let you know that they care. It may not be the solution in some cases, but it's better than being alone in times of your vulnerability."

You leaned slightly closer, "Can I ask you a favor?" Your gaze pierced right through his soul and he can only nod absently which resulted for you to grin.

"If you see someone, friend and stranger even enemies, looking so vulnerable that they actually might cry. . ." You lifted your intertwined hands with his, ". . .Make them feel significant."

A cold midnight wind whisked past the both of you, your eyes shone brighter than jewels and stars alike as you spoke those words that made a huge impact in his life.

". . .Even if my enemies are about to cry because I'm about to end their miserable lives?"

What a way to ruin the moment.

"You know what I mean, Mora." You deadpan, preparing to let go of his hand, but his grip is much stronger and it only tightens once he feels you're trying to detach.

"I'm afraid you have to elaborate further, Y/N. And please, I only have two syllables in my name. What's so hard in including the X?" In contrast to his words, he quite enjoys hearing his nickname.

"The X is not even a syllable, Mora."

That time, young Morax found peace.

He's always on the hunt for something new, something glimmering, something incredible, something undiscovered and something bedazzling. That's how his childlike brain thinks and he seizes anything outwardly beautiful.

But he never knew how amazing it was to see something— or rather, to see someone's beauty on the inside.

Perhaps that's what draws him to you, because of your voice, patience and understanding. He would never admit it though

To him, you're beautiful inside and out, almost perfect, even your flaws are easy to love.

He can't deny he wasted a few immortal years just mourning your death, you'd probably scold him.

Within those years, he's only reliving the memories and wise words you have with him. He wanted to come out as a better person after your death, take it as an honour of your passing.

You made him for what he is.

If he hadn't met you he'd still be the intolerable, impatient and disrespectful person as he grows up.

He'd still fear the unknown, never having the courage to take risks and accept whatever outcomes.

Everything he does always brings him back to you, his actions always correlates to something that's relevant about you. It had always been you.

He prays the Celestia to let you know you will always be apart of his person. Yes, you died, but every lingering piece of you still remains intact in the deep recesses of his mind.

He has moved on, but you remain the person he loved the most. Not even the sands of time has the capability to change that.

"How disastrous. People can be really simple-minded." Morax rubbed both of his temples once he heard the speculation of him and Guizhong plausible relationship.

"I apologize on their behalf, it never crossed my mind they'll be quick to make assumptions." The fair Goddess bowed in shame.

"You have done nothing wrong to spark such rumors, Guizhong. If anything, it is I who should seek forgiveness for I have tied you down with such unpleasant gossips."

She meekly chuckles, "If we're going to paint ourselves as the culprit then we might as well work together to quell the rumors."

His perfectly lined eyebrows knitted, which didn't go unnoticed by Guizhong, "What seems to be troubling your mind?"

A few seconds ticked by before he let out a whisper that only Barbatos can only hear thanks to his wind. For Guizhong who has keen sense of hearing, "If Y/N was here I'll gear up for another war just to extinguish this spreading rumors." She stifled a laugh.

Oh, she knows alright. She knows you. She knows the person who captivated Morax's heart, it's all about he talks to her in their leisure time and you're not a secret between their comrades.

Most people would find it dull to listen about someone's life unless it held any merit to pass onto the other mouth, she would too. But Morax describes you like a protagonist of a fairy tale, like some mythical being, caught between two worlds, a miracle of existence that racked his existence— which makes you an interesting person

She was so eager to meet you, it was rather unfortunate that you've already passed on uncountable years ago.

"Where are you going?" She inquired as the Geo Archon whisk passed her, "Out to visit an old friend. I won't be returning until tomorrow dawn."

She sighed, a corresponding smile soon follows as she took over his job for the meantime.

Morax walked through the barren areas in Mt. Tianheng, it became part of his leisure activities during the day when his mind needs to detach itself from reality and let himself be swayed by the memories he tucked in the deep recesses of his mind.

Memories of his late comrades who perished in the horrors of war and the most painful but nostalgic one; Y/N.

He ruefully sighed at the thought of you. Even in death, you have full grasp of his heart and shroud his head with your image.

Filtered beams of light accented the spaces between the ancient trees that twisted like spires from the undergrowth. Golden leaves littered the forest floor as Morax appraised the trail of mycelium path, one leading to a particular tree.

His expression remains unchanging, at least that's what he thought, any stranger sees him they'll stop to ponder what made this godly man smile so fondly.

A single maple leaf flow with the breeze, swaying in inconsistent direction until it falls in his gloved hand. The rich color of autumn and texture brings him back in his youthful days.

[ cttro papercider on Twitter ]

"Ah! All I do is reminisce to pass time." He muttered to himself as he let the leaf get carried away by the zither winds once again.

"It certainly has been awhile, Y/N. I was but a petulant child since I've visited you. I now stand here as the Geo Archon." It has been a habit to come back to this specific tree and treats it as his home.

It's a sacred place he's closely attached to, he can perfectly picture his young self failing to spy on you. He grimaced at the memory when he was caught in the act.

"I still have no idea why you let me trail your shadows, you weren't least afraid that I'm a dragon. You told me you're fascinated, but. . . was that the only reason?"

Only the breeze answered for him with nothing, "If you hadn't allowed me to do so I do not know what kind of person I would be as of today." He steps closer and pulled off his hood.

He let the silence hang for minutes, maybe even hours. Just standing there as he appreciates what nature has to offer in the place where his story began with you.

"Are you proud of me? My comrades claimed they were more than proud to stand alongside with me, but I doubt the veracity of their words when I led them to their demise. Is it that prideful to have me as a friend when I bring nothing but misfortune?"

He finally sat down between the roots of the tree, relishing the blissful comfort as the sunlight accentuates his godly features.

"I met a boy who was being manipulated by an evil god who only desires power and selfish gains." He began.

"He was a fierce warrior, strong and capable, the manipulation only fuels him to be at his strongest form. I was thinking of eradicating him, but his eyes already looked so dead. It reminded me of. . ."

He holds his tongue and shuts his eyes as he's in pain, "It would be one of my greatest regrets if I had impaled my spear into him."

"I thought of you that time. Hadn't it been to my promise to you, I wouldn't have gained a new ally. Xiao is his name."

The wind blew stronger, ". . . I forgot you can summon him just by calling out his name." He chuckles to himself.

Green statics cracked into the air and quickly revealed a masked man with his polearm readied for any danger.

"Settle down now. I apologize, your name slipped in my mouth." The young Yaksha visibly looked confused even under the layers of his mask.

"I was narrating a story to my old friend Y/N."

Guizhong couldn't have been more right.

By the end of the day, Xiao now knows every detail there is to know about the person called Y/N. It's what Morax ever talk to him.

"Mr. Zhongli is in a very elated mood ever since you told him Archon knows what, Traveler." Hu Tao, the Director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor finds the situation quite absurd to look at, but never impossible. His mood just feels out of place.

Who looks at mournful families with an eccentric smile on their face as they consult them about their loved one's death?

"Why does Paimon feel like you're pointing finger at the traveler?" She puts her tiny hands on tiny her hips like a mother hen.

The Traveler let out a nervous laugh, "I wonder what exactly brought him in such high spirit with my words."

"Ooh... Paimon thinks it's about Y/N. Isn't it obvious by now?" Hu Tao furrowed her eyebrows, "Y/N? You mean the Adventurer?" Both heads snapped at her direction, "You know them?"

She reluctantly shrugged, "Only at acquaintance level. They showed interest in business and I taught them a few things." She smiled at the epilogue of her statement.

"If they ever come back, my hunch tells me you'd find them in Wangshu Inn, they frequented there before." She added before turning her attention to a new customer.

Zhongli, who's been eavesdropping, perked up at the claims. Perhaps he should visit Xiao tonight and totally won't inquire if he ever met you before.

Midnight falls and Zhongli bid his farewell to the traveler before heading towards the Wangshu Inn.

For some unknown reason, Zhongli could sense the foreboding feeling that's nagging his instincts as he gets closer to his desired destination, yet he doesn't stop. What's worse is that he doesn't know if it's for the good or bad.

All of a sudden, a harsh breeze blew past his face as if the winds attempting to convey a message that's only for his intuition to decipher, for him to meander.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw his statue glowing bright blue, but that wasn't what caught his attention. A hand reached out to touch the stone statue.

A mop of [H/C] facing him backward bowed down in respect of the late Rex Lapis, but Zhongli could feel a much more intense feeling.

Something stirs inside him, he remembers this situation— when he watched Y/N with such fascination from above the tree, not knowing what they look like, yet they never fail to express their feelings through threaded words he finds so wondrous to hear.

In contrary to that, the person appears to be. . . forlorn. He stepped closer until he's only less than five meters away from them.

All of a sudden, he feels skittish around the person. It's as if he doesn't want to leave a bad first impression, he's suddenly self-conscious of his looks, and Zhongli never cared about his outer appearance.

Then they spoke, in a solemn voice.

"See you later, Mora. I hope you found your eternal peace."

There are times when you wish you'd forget Morax, some that you don't. But still, in the birth of new beings, you will find Morax in his next life. The prospect of being alone is a phobia you can't ever overcome unless you have Morax.

What a joke. It should've been a farewell. Your final goodbye to your old friend. Not a hopeless see you later.

It took you months to come with that mindset, only to end up saying what's the exact opposite.

It was difficult to come back in Liyue, every step adds a new pile of memory that drags you further into the depths of agony. Every where you look reminds you of the late Geo Archon. Each encouraging word in your mind gets trampled on by his image.

You consider it as an achievement to stand tall in front of his statue after his death, and a failure that you didn't get to bid your final words to him before you depart from Liyue.

You're still clinging to a nonexistent hope that you'll actually get to see him even after your death. Old habits die hard they say. It couldn't have been more relatable than now.

Sighing in disappointment, you retracted your hand from the statue and briskly turn around when you felt the disturbance behind you.

A gloved hand suspended in the air seems to be trying to reach out to you. As you raise your eyes to meet the oh-so-familiar glowing amber eyes that you grew to love. . .

You offered the stranger a faux smile, seemingly naive to the person standing in front of you with an aghast expression.

You failed to realize Morax as Zhongli just as Morax failed to realize you in your different lives.

"Hello. How may I help you?"

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Time has stopped, both hands of the clock moved counterclockwise, bringing him back to the time he first laid his eyes on you— so unsuspecting from what's about to unravel after a sweet hello.

His broadened eyes are solely fixated on you, it ingnited a feeling he couldn’t immediately identify, a sense of a certain and long-forgotten familiarity fogged his memory.

From the color of your eyes, skin and hair. The subtle furrow of your eyebrows and the upturn of your lips. The gentle facade that compelled him to indulge his curiosity towards you.

Y/N. . . Are you the Y/N the traveler was talking about?

But you bare no resemblance to the Y/N he knew, yet he can tell how it is your soul residing in the mortal's body. It is you. Your eyes aren't the ones that welcomed him as new friend. It feels different.

You're smiling while your eyes are grieving.

Your eyes failed to conceal your weeping soul and could only hope the last bits of its strength will keep it standing until someone reach a hand to put back the shattered pieces.

Behind that gleeful stare was a mountain of pain and extracting it would bring instability to the person who would dare to climb. Yet come what may, you're always worth any risk.

He lowered his hand to shake yours, his lips upturned into an enigmatic smile.

Your heart went erratic and the usually dormant butterflies imploded in your stomach. You haven't felt like a teenager since. . .

You felt your breath hitch in your throat when suddenly, with a mere handful of strides, the beautiful man was standing right in front of you, his amber eyes searching your face intently, trying to find whatever it was he was seeking.

"My name is Zhongli, I'm a consultant in Wangsheng Funeral Parlor." Your [E/C] eyes blinked surreptitiously before accepting it. What a beautiful name, you thought almost immediately.

Under normal circumstances you would've strictly reprimanded the man with his incongruous advances, but you felt something else, something so powerful it overshadowed your senses.

It was a need, an unyielding need to be close to him.

Rather than pushing him away, something inside you stirs awake and begin to implore to coalesce with his existence.

"I'm Y/N L/N, an adventurer."

So it is really you.

He briefly looks down to their intwined hands.

For countless nights, the image of your bloodied hand reaching out to him as you take your last breath plagued his every dream. The tender, soft hands that will no longer bring him comfort. The hand of the person whom he loved so dearly, whom he failed to protect against the wicked ways of the world.

The intense urge to hide you away from the prying eyes that shared similarities to his kept his mind in shambles.

Which what led him to mumble to you what his thoughts are repeating like a mantra.

When he spoke the promise he'll show you what's up at the highest altitude his wings could go, he was mostly speaking out of his selfish desire to hold onto your hand and fly you away to the farthest place no living creatures have ever stumbled upon.

He had to learn it the hard way; that the greater you wish for something, the crueler fate can be. Maybe if he hadn't been so greedy you could've live your mortal life.

Now that you are standing in front of him, shaking your hand, he can amend his mistake by straying far away from you before he repeats history itself, before he could inflict pain on you again.

And yet, looking at you attempting to shoulder the boulders of life is what all it takes for all the wisdom he garnered for centuries to be thrown out the window.

He can't imagine himself distancing from you when you're suffering and have no one comfortable enough to share your burdens with, no one to validate your feelings, no one to embrace you in your vulnerable times.

You taught him to be compassionate, to not disregard emotions, and he's about to set that in motion. You were there when he needed you the most, offered your shoulder to vent out his feelings, it's about time to let him do what you always did for him.

It became abundantly clear he's not willing to let you go through anything alone just like he had gone through without you.

"You claim you're a consultant. Did you perhaps think I'm a potential customer?"

He let go of your hand as much as he loathes being away from your warmth for even just a second, he's still convinced you can be taken away from him at any given moment.

"Indeed, I couldn't stand idle and watch you grieve alone." He watches how you averted your eyes as if hiding the pain would appease your mind.

"I appreciate the thought. . . though, I highly doubt it'll be effective."

He mentally chuckled at the irony. He, too, was once amazed of what simple gestures can bring to a downhearted person.

"Hmm. An old friend once showed me how to console a person. Allow me to share their insights."

Your eye brows perched in curiosity, this man speaks like he's in his 50s or something, ". . .If you insist. I could use a company for now."

Morax experienced eons of desires to attain what he wishes to, though he refrains from being blinded by those greedy thoughts as he had witnessed how cruel fate can be when he once desired to have you. Will history repeat itself?

Zhongli chortles in response, but his expression soon turned nostalgic, "I may not know what adversities you're facing nor do I know who you are, but know that you're never alone."

His smile never left his face as he takes off his glove and held the palm face forward to you, he watches how your eyes glisten with unshed tears, "W-What is that supposed to convey?"

You didn't even notice how much gap he closed just to increase the proximity between the both of you. Archons! You can smell the lingering scent of Osmanthus Wine mingling with his breath!

Is he a drunkard like Venti?

Perhaps this man is drunk to comprehend his actions, perhaps he won't remember this the never next day, perhaps he has mistaken you for someone else, perhaps—

"Wherever you wish to go, I'll keep you company. I dare ask if I may hold your hand along the way, Y/N?"

Perhaps there's hope you can cling onto until your aching heart is at ease.

Your hand found its way to his, almost too desperate to not let this moment of comfort vanish. Just this once, you thought to yourself as the man smiled with absolute glee that it puts the sun in shame.

Out of reflex, your fingers laced with his, wanting nothing more than to relieve in the warmth of his hand. His expression soon turned into a priceless one as if he's in disbelief that you actually just did that, and that alone made the realization struck you harder than Raiden's lightning and fried your nerves with embarrassment.

"I-I'm so-sorry! I didn't mean to get too comfortable!"

You're a stranger to him, and you acted as if you've been a longtime friends. He must have been feeling uncomfortable, you nervously thought as you quickly tried reel back your hand in an attempt to salvage whatever budding acquaintanceship you have.

Keyword; tried.

Your action prompts him to retaliate by locking his fingers in place, keeping your hand sealed with his and shot you a reassuring smile.

"Do not fret. I'm delighted to know I somehow earned a little fraction of your trust. It's only fair to mirror the trust you gave me."

As if to spell out his point, he held up your intertwined hands just below your chin. His eyes blazed with a newfound emotion you couldn't decipher. He almost looks eager. He was gripping your hand, not too tight, but firm enough give emphasize of something.

His action wasn't fruitless as it gained a reaction from you. Your eyebrows twitched, there's something too familiar about it, but your memory refuses to give you that answer.

Instead, you could only mutter weak responses, "I-I understand, but if you feel uncomfortable in any way then don't hesitate to point out what I'm doing wrong."

Whether it was a satisfying answer he wants to hear, his emotions betrayed to even give you a brief answer and his face only lit up as he turns away from you, "You could never do anything wrong in my eyes."

Did he just say something? "What was that?"

"Nothing. Are you new in Liyue? I could give you a tour if you'd like to make you familiarize with the environment."

Your lips turned into a genuine smile, it didn't reach your ears but something tells you this man will lengthen it until you're the happiest person alive, "I'd love to, Zhongli."

As the wind blows to the East, a new chapter has began with a new retelling of their unfinished story. Until the last maple leaf falls and the oldest standing tree drought, two souls will always find their way to rekindle what has been lost.

>> PART III

─ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. @itsyourgirlria @shizunxie @elsoleil @cherlynono @slzarr @katsuissus @tartarsaucechi1de @spyanya @tikitsune @shoujishu @useless-potatho @chimsblogg @xiamuyi @lemonlimesocks @belletifeshyl @alexon-mars @multifandomvoyage @malt-rants-and-stuff @jameineliebe @angelkazusstuff @orginiallyann @eissaaaa @beezgobuzzbuzz @towos @kamukayakmonyet @atsukawolfcat @sunflowers1970 @yamtwt @avery-needs-more-fics @angstylittleb1tch @bigcandlesmolbrain @lxmine @imk1ra @fauxizs @islxisl @chihawari @bishishbored @yuuki4646 @sunsethw4 @princeabomination @alexiris @chocolateneapolitan @ayra2452008 @akaritenchi @sophiee-bush @ittosoneandoniwife @alatus2716 @almighty-raiden-shogunate

(it's my first time doing tags so pls inform me if it's not working, idk why the others are white, did I do something wrong??)

PS. if you want to get tagged for the next part or be removed then simply comment it TAGLIST is for the readers who want to be updated for my future genshin works.

─ 𝐀/𝐍. Can you all smell that? *sniff sniff* I smell a Xiao ver. of this 👀👀 Fr, I didn't expect the fic will be loved that much as I initially thought, I received many appreciative comments and messages which is what motivated me to write part 2, and possibly part 3 (just for the fluff) since this was supposed to be a series but I crossed that idea out until everyone broke my expectation. Thank you💜💙 and merry christmas everyone ❤💚

[tartigglez]

"hear you?" part.1

zhongli x f!reader

・❥・smut with plot

・❥・0.6k

・❥・16+ masturbation, zhongli hears people bc he's an adeptus boi (it'll make more sense if you read it lmao), that's kinda it?

・❥・lol hi

prologue

it’s been days. he’s been hearing it in the back of his mind for days. a voice, moaning his name, around the same time every night. but it wasn’t the name people normally call the prime of adepti when they want something from him. it wasn’t rex lapis, nor morax, but zhongli. who knows him as zhongli, only as zhongli? who would be calling him that name, of all things? who…?

this was not a crucial matter. why should this matter to him when he hears people from all over, all the time, asking him for things? he was busy anyway, papers scattered all over his desk, receiving letters all the time, trying to get through his documents on top of his already-busy workload. he didn't have the time to think about it.

it was near the end of his shift when you bumped into him outside, walking past the parlour on your way through liyue. 

“ah, mr zhongli” you greeted him, still keen to make your way away from him, not wanting to stop and chat, lest you do something embarrassing and make a fool of yourself.

“g-good evening, y/n” he seemed nervous, a little jumpy, but you didn’t think much of it, just making your way down the street away from him, avoiding conversation. 

but he knew.

the very moment you spoke his name, he realised it. for the past few nights, he has been taunted by your voice. his thoughts were filled with whispers of the things you sought. but what was he to do? it’s not like he could act on it in anyway, he could only listen to the lewd things you mumbled as you did what he had to assume was touching yourself. 

this was the worst it had gotten. it hadn’t been this bad before, but now it practically felt like you were next to him, moaning in his ear and pleading for his attention.

“zhongli~ please… faster…” 

he dreaded to think what you’d be like if he were actually there, but the thought couldn’t help but intrigue him, to the extent that it was enough for him to get hard. he wasn’t going to be sleeping anyway, not with your voice in his ears, begging him for something which he obviously couldn’t give you. 

it was slow at first, he just started touching his semi through his boxers, breathing out at the relief of the friction. deciding that he needed more, he lowered his boxers enough for his cock to come out. he spat on his palm, moving his hand back down, hearing you moan his name quietly, asking for his length inside you, asking for him. 

he was getting faster with himself, letting out gentle, low moans as he quickly stroked his length. it’s almost like you were there with him, and he didn't want to admit it, but he wished you were. he had always found you attractive, but now those sentiments were so incredibly amplified, to an extent that you were on his mind even when he couldn’t hear you. 

he could feel his need for release growing as he heard echoes of you reaching your climax, sweet voice reverberating in his mind. this feeling brought him to his own orgasm, thick cum spurting over his hand as he slowed his strokes, slightly overstimulating himself as he rode through his high. 

he didn’t anticipate that he would find this particular situation so… alluring. to have someone he knows calling out his name as they get off, it was enough to have his mind racing. however, it goes without saying that one should not act on desires that are deemed disorderly, right?

part.2

© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost

[moraxsthrone]

zhongli lowkey tracking your cycle BY SCENT ALONE so he'll know the best time of month to comfort you, the best time to spank you, the best time to make love to you, the best time to FUCK you, the best time to bury himself balls deep inside your pussy and BREED you.

[eileenslibrary]

Dainty

Pt.2

Dainty pt. 1

Zhongli x F! Adepti reader

(skin color, body, facial features, and height, are not mentioned in this work of fanfiction, all readers who align with she/her or she/they are welcome)

Warnings: OOC Zhongli, War (Mentioned), Arguments, Nudity, Blood, Death (Mentioned), Fluff

The archon war had passed and Morax had crowned the reigning archon, “Rex, Cloud Retainer sent you something,” you say walking up to him silver tattoos painting your arms and legs he looks over and sees you standing holding a box “Bring it here” he commands you nod, and walk up to him “Thank you” he hums taking the box his golden fingers brushing your hands his gaze holding yours as if testing for your reaction. You just watch him as he opens the box a little nosy, a beautiful rose gold, white, and silver gown sits in the box, “Hmm seems this is for you” he hums with a smirk pulling his lips, you blush “Ah it seems it is” you clear your throat taking the box from him and setting it on a table “While you're over there please bring me some fruit will you?” he sighs “Yes Rex” he looks back at you over his shoulder watching you as you slice the fruit. “Why don’t you try it on?” He requests you still in surprise “As you wish” You finish cutting up the fruit and bring it to him “Thank you” he hums you nod and walk over to the box gently folding the fabric over your arms and looking at the fine silk “I’ll be back in a moment” You announce he hums munching on the fruit, you go into one of the separate rooms of the abode to change, you pull out a slip of paper reading it ‘My dear, (Name) I saw a darling outfit just like this one while visiting Liyue and knew I needed one made for you I hope you enjoy wearing it. I hope you are doing well, come visit me sometime soon.’ You haven't seen her in a while and can’t help but tear up a little bit, slipping the slip on top then adding the rose gold layer on top, puffing out the sleeves a little bit. You walk back to him and see he’s looking expectantly at you his eyes glimmer at you as one of the oil lamps illuminates you at the door of the hallway. He stands his robes fluttering around his legs as he walks to you “I have never seen something as beautiful as you” he whispers when he gets close enough you become bashful when one of his hands touches the waistline of the dress “I could say the same for you Rex” you hum looking back up at him “May I?” he inquires looking down at your lips “You may” you respond, he pulls you into his arms and sweeps you into a warm kiss, one of his warm golden hands holding yours the other rests on the small of your back. He breaks apart from you and rests his forehead on yours “I hope this means you are mine?” he hums keeping his eyes closed “What did you think it meant?” you tease he chuckles and kisses you once again “My, Storm Weaver” he calls your Adepti title, loving the way it rang when paired with his, Morax felt his heart squeeze with content now that you belonged to him.

Years pass and the intertwining of Storm Weaver and Rex Lapis is announced, with a very surprised Ganyu and Cloud Retainer after Retainer was asked to be the officiant who happily married you off to him. And after that, you and your husband were painted in every children's book as restful lovers bound to each other by a contract made thousands of years prior, it was played in operas on occasion and told in every history book of Liyue you could find. And a loving and content marriage, you both sworn to each other among the stars like a tapestry on a wall. But as time ran the dreaded command to destroy Khanriah resonated between each archon but for once you refused, as the Geo Archon fell to his knees as he begged you to understand “I will not listen, you are willing to go and kill innocent people simply because a higher being told you so. Simply because you are scared of humans refusing to believe in something they don’t even know is trustworthyl. I cannot agree, I won’t stop you from doing what you think is the best course of action, but I will not fight this war with you I will stay with my people and defend them when the time comes” You say with the grace you have always held dear. Morax is speechless, for once his wise and weary mind for once at a standstill “Very well then.” And you feel his presence evaporate from your abode “Very well then” you repeat looking up at the sky a solemn drum beating in your chest. 

You ran to your husband when he got home his eyes tired and hollow. You lead him to bathe washing his hair from the grime and blood “I don’t know if this was the right choice” he whispers his eyes like endless pools of uncertainty “Do you regret it?” you inquire letting your hands find his once mighty shoulders, now scratched and tired. You massage the skin and muscle leading up to his neck pressing into the muscles that were stressed and stiff. “I don’t know, but I feel like I might regret it later on” he looks at you “Do you feel like I should regret it?” he asks resting his head on your knees “I think what you did was terrible, they were innocent just like our people are, our people are living their own lives, what is so different about those who don’t follow a god? But I am not in charge of how you feel so you must make that decision on your own time” You press a little harder into his neck once you find a particularly hard knot he groans out in pleasure when you finally get it to release it’s tension, he pulls you into the bath with him making you gasp “Morax!” your robes soaking up the water. He chuckles nuzzling into your shoulder “I missed you, please never leave me alone” he mumbles into your shoulder “I won’t. But it’s my duty as an adeptus to protect Liyue as any other, even if I’m your wife.”

You and Zhongli walk down the streets of Liyue hand in hand, a warm breeze brushes a few strands of your hair into your face, Zhongli swipes it from your face his beautiful eyes looking into yours “Thank you dearest” you hum kissing his cheek “You’re welcome darling” he places a hand on your waist leading you to the Wanmin restaurant to say hi to your sisters and mother. “Hello” You greet wrapping your arms around Shenhe’s shoulders she stiffens up before calming down “You’re here” she hums Xianyun looks up at you both and stands up striding over to you letting you wrap your arms around her “Come sit, the food will be out any minute” she shoos you both to sit down with Ganyu next on your other side as you ll start chattering away “So when are the mini’s of you coming” “MOTHER!”

Hope you enjoyed <3  

[naomeii]

I have an angst to fluff request that's pretty long so I apologize.

Zhongli with a human reader who's his former blacksmith back when he was still an archon. The girl was young but her skills in creating weapons were immaculate so her elder sister sent (more like forced) her to assist him.

Unfortunately, Zhongli was very cold and harsh towards reader even when she tried her best to assist him in any way she can, which caused her to distance herself from him.

The relationship between them ended when she found out that Zhongli kept her sister's murder of her mother, best friend and her (the friend's) husband a secret from her (this was after she killed her sister). Exhausted and furious, she tears into Zhongli who tells her that her friends needed to die in order for her to mature. This angers her even more as she destroys the spear she made for him and leaves.

Sometime during the Archon war, reader ended up getting cursed with longevity during a fight with a god. Many, including Zhongli, thought she had died but unbeknownst to them, she was wandering Tevyat under different aliases.

The two meet again after 500 years when the ex-archon finds her in Liyue. Unsurprisingly, she treats him coldly which upsets him.

The two finally reconcile after reader is saved by Zhongli after nearly dying. When she accuses him of only saving her life just to make himself feel better and tells him he should've just let her die because she's useless to him anyways, this breaks his heart. It's his fault she hates him. It was because if him she lost her loved ones. He breaks down in tears as he apologizes to her for his cruel actions which causes her to cry as well and forgive him. As the two lay in bed together while in each other's arms, the silence that was once sullen was now peaceful and welcoming.

Renewed Souls.

—Pairings: Zhongli x F!Reader

Content : Suicidal themes, character deaths, Angst to Fluff.

The cavernous echoes of the smithy resonated with the rhythmic clanging of metal. Young (Y/n), a skilled blacksmith, meticulously forged weapons under the watchful eye of Morax, the Geo Archon. Her elder sister had insisted that she assist him, hoping to further her skills and gain favour with the powerful deity.

Morax, however, was a stern and cold taskmaster. He rarely acknowledged her efforts, and when he did, it was often accompanied by a disapproving scowl. Despite her earnest attempts to please him, (Y/n) found herself on the receiving end of his harsh criticism.

One day, as she carefully handed him a newly crafted spear, Morax's expression remained indifferent. "Mediocre at best," he remarked coldly. "You still have much to learn."

(Y/n) bit her lip, suppressing the frustration that threatened to boil over. She had poured her heart and soul into her craft, only to be met with relentless criticism.

Weeks turned into months, and the tension between them only grew. Morax's stoic demeanor never wavered, and (Y/n) began to distance herself emotionally from the callous Archon.

The breaking point came when (Y/n) discovered the painful truth about her family's demise. In a fit of rage, she confronted Morax, her eyes blazing with fury. "You knew!" she accused, tears streaming down her face. "You knew what happened to my mother, my best friend, and her husband, and you kept it from me!"

Morax's gaze remained unwavering, his voice steady. "Their deaths were a necessary sacrifice. A step on the path to maturity."

Enraged, (Y/n) couldn't contain her emotions any longer. "Sacrifice? Is that what you call it?" She tore into him, expressing the anguish that had festered within her. "You played puppet master with my life, and for what? To mold me into your idea of a mature servant?"

Her hands trembled as she clutched the spear she had painstakingly crafted for Morax. "I won't be a part of this any longer!" With a swift and powerful motion, she shattered the weapon against the cold stone floor.

The once-immaculate spear now lay broken, mirroring the fractured relationship between the blacksmith and the Geo Archon. (Y/n) turned on her heel, leaving the workshop and Morax behind.

Morax just stood there, like a statue, watching (Y/n) storm out of the workshop. His expression remained unmoved, but a flicker of something, perhaps regret, crossed his eyes. He didn't bother to chase after her or offer any words of consolation.

As the door swung shut, Morax was left alone amidst the remnants of shattered metal and fractured trust. The weight of his decisions hung in the air, and for a moment, the stoic facade he always wore seemed to crack ever so slightly. Yet, he made no move to follow her, letting her footsteps fade into the distance.

The workshop, once filled with the sounds of creation, now echoed with the haunting silence of a connection irreparably broken. Morax, the Geo Archon, remained alone, surrounded by the wreckage of a bond he had callously allowed to unravel.

The chaos of the Archon War had gripped Teyvat, and (Y/n) found herself caught in the crossfire during a skirmish with a vengeful god. In the midst of the battle, a malevolent curse was cast upon her, a dark magic that twisted the fabric of time and granted her an unintended boon—immortality.

As the curse took hold, (Y/n) felt a surge of power coursing through her veins, but it came at a cost. The battle raged on, and the once-familiar faces of her comrades blurred into a chaotic maelstrom. Morax, witnessing the apparent demise of his former blacksmith, felt a pang of regret deep within.

In the midst of the chaos, (Y/n) was enveloped in an ethereal glow, her form disappearing from the battlefield. The onlookers, including Morax, believed her to be lost to the cruel grip of the war. Unbeknownst to them, (Y/n) was trapped in a strange state between life and death, her consciousness suspended in an eternal limbo.

The first time she awoke, disoriented and alone, she realized that her surroundings had changed. Teyvat looked both familiar and alien, the passage of time evident in the shifting landscapes. (Y/n) moved through the ages under different aliases, trying to make sense of her cursed existence.

In one era, she roamed as a wandering scholar, sharing her knowledge with those she encountered. In another, she assumed the guise of a skilled artisan, creating masterpieces that would be remembered for centuries. The people she met came and went, their lives fleeting in comparison to her perpetual existence.

Through the ages, Morax continued to mourn the loss of (Y/n), unaware that she still existed in the shadows, watching the world evolve without her. The once-mighty Archon became more introspective, haunted by the memories of the blacksmith he had pushed away during the earlier days of the war.

(Y/n) continued to wander Teyvat, her heart heavy with the weight of the curse that bound her to an unending journey. The war raged on, gods clashed, and nations rose and fell, all while she remained an unseen observer, cursed to witness the passage of time without truly living.

The market in Liyue hummed with activity as (Y/n), now cloaked in a hooded robe, moved through the crowd. Her physical appearance had remained remarkably unchanged over the centuries, but the passage of time had etched a rugged resilience into her features. Her eyes, however, retained a sharpness that betrayed the wisdom and weariness of her immortal existence.

Zhongli, the ex-Archon once known as Morax, had been quietly observing the market, as was his habit in the mortal realm. His keen gaze caught a glimpse of (Y/n) amidst the throng, and for a moment, his heart skipped a beat. He couldn't believe his eyes—could it really be her after all these years?

With a newfound determination, Zhongli trailed her through the market, weaving through the lively vendors and animated chatter. As he approached, (Y/n) couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. Her senses, honed by centuries of survival, detected the persistent presence behind her.

Finally, Zhongli caught up, his voice carrying a mix of uncertainty and hope. "Excuse me, miss. Might I have a moment of your time?" he inquired, his tone gentle.

(Y/n) stiffened, recognising the voice that echoed from a distant past. She turned to face him, her hood casting shadows over her features. "I have no time for idle chatter," she replied coldly, her eyes narrowing.

Zhongli persisted, determined to bridge the gap that had grown between them over centuries. "I sense a familiarity in your aura. Have we met before?"

(Y/n) scoffed, her patience wearing thin. "I've met many in my long existence. Your attempts at recognition are futile. Now, leave me be."

Zhongli, undeterred, continued to follow her, his gaze filled with a quiet desperation. He couldn't shake the feeling that she held the key to a past he had long buried. As they neared the Wangshu Inn, (Y/n) sought refuge within its walls, hoping to escape the persistent presence behind her.

Days passed, and Zhongli lingered outside the inn, compelled by an unspoken connection that transcended time. Eventually, he approached her again, hoping for a chance to mend the fractures that had widened between them.

"(Y/n)," he began, using her name from a time when they were closer. "I know you recognize me. Please, let me explain."

(Y/n), her patience exhausted, turned to face him one final time. "Explain? What's there to explain, Morax? You abandoned your godhood, changed your name, and left everything behind. Why should I care about the reasons now? You mean nothing to me."

Zhongli took a breath, ready to speak, but before he could utter a single word, (Y/n) cut him off with a cold and resolute tone.

"I'm not here for apologies, Morax," she interrupted, her gaze unwavering. "I'm here for supplies, nothing more. Once I'm done, I'll be on my way. Don't bother following me or trying to explain. There's nothing left to say."

Zhongli, though pained by her harsh words, nodded in silent acknowledgment. He watched as (Y/n) disappeared into the bustling inn, her figure framed by the doorway. The weight of centuries lingered in the air, and Zhongli remained outside, grappling with the consequences of choices made long ago.

Once alone in the quiet confines of her room at the Wangshu Inn, (Y/n) finally allowed the facade of strength to crumble. The weight of centuries pressed down on her, and the pain she had endured for so long spilled over. The tears, held back for centuries, now flowed freely, each drop carrying the anguish of a life that seemed unending.

She sank to her knees, the room silent except for the soft sobs that wracked her body. The weight of loss, betrayal, and the relentless march of time bore down on her, and for a moment, the eternal wanderer felt the crushing weight of her existence.

"I can't take it anymore," she whispered to the empty room, her voice barely audible through the tears. "I just want it to end."

The memories of her mother, her dear friend, and the life that had been stolen from her replayed in her mind like a haunting melody. The curse of immortality, once a twisted gift, now felt like an unbearable burden.

As the pain intensified, (Y/n) wished for an end to the ceaseless journey, a respite from the loneliness that had become her constant companion. Her cries echoed in the solitude of the room, a desperate plea to a world that seemed indifferent to her suffering.

In the midst of her despair, (Y/n) yearned for reconciliation with those she had lost. The ache for the warmth of a mother's embrace and the laughter of a dear friend intensified. The room, once a sanctuary, now felt like a prison echoing with the tormented cries of a soul burdened by the weight of time.

The next day dawned, and (Y/n) moved through the city as if the emotional tempest of the previous night had never occurred. It was her last day in Liyue, and she wandered to a nearby hill, a silent witness to her internal turmoil.

As she stood on the precipice, contemplating the abyss below, the wind whispered tales of countless moments lost to time. In a moment of despair, she let herself fall, surrendering to the void that beckoned. However, just as the precipice became an inevitability, a strong hand gripped her wrist, halting her descent.

Startled, (Y/n) looked up to see Zhongli, his expression a mix of concern and desperation. Accusations formed on her lips, and she spat them out with venom.

"You saved me just to make yourself feel better, didn't you?" she accused, her eyes reflecting the pain that lingered from centuries past. "You should've just let me die. I'm useless to you, just like back then."

Zhongli's grip tightened, but not in restraint. It was a desperate attempt to anchor her to the present. "No, (Y/n), it's not like that. I never meant—"

"Meant? You never appreciated anything I did. You hid the truth about the demise of my loved one just in the name of 'maturity'!" Her words cut through the air, a bitter reminder of the scars he had left on her soul.

Zhongli's eyes welled with tears, the weight of his past actions crashing down on him. "I… I'm sorry," he choked out, the words heavy with regret.

Her anger gave way to a profound sadness, and she felt the tears welling up again. "You should've just let me die in peace," she whispered, her voice a fragile echo of the pain etched into her being.

Zhongli's facade crumbled, and tears streamed down his face. "I never should've treated you that way. It's my fault you hate me. My fault you went through so muc."

As the truth hung heavy in the air, (Y/n) felt a profound exhaustion. The anger, the pain, the centuries of carrying the weight of betrayal—it all seemed too much. Zhongli fell to his knees beside her, reaching out to her in a desperate plea for forgiveness.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, his voice breaking. "I never realized the pain I caused you."

(Y/n) hesitated, her heart torn between the desire for retribution and the weariness of carrying the burden of hatred. Finally, she sighed, the weight of centuries evident in her eyes.

"I'm tired," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper. As she finally leaned on him, Zhongli wrapped his arms around her, offering the solace of a shared pain.

"I know, (Y/n)," he murmured, his own tears mingling with hers. "I know."

Days turned into nights, and (Y/n) found herself lingering in Liyue, the city that had been both the stage for her past pain and the unexpected chapter of reconciliation. The wounds of centuries slowly began to heal, stitched together by a newfound understanding and a shared vulnerability.

One evening, as the moon cast a gentle glow through the window, (Y/n) and Zhongli lay side by side, their bodies close yet hearts still mending. The silence that had once been sullen and heavy was now transformed into a peaceful and welcoming embrace.

Zhongli spoke first, his voice carrying the weight of remorse and sincerity. "I never imagined it would come to this," he admitted, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her hand.

(Y/n) sighed, her eyes fixed on the moonlit sky beyond the window. "Neither did I. Centuries of pain and resentment, and now... it feels like a weight has been lifted."

Zhongli nodded, his gaze lingering on her. "I never wanted to be the cause of your suffering. I can't change the past, but I can be better in the present."

(Y/n) turned to face him, her eyes meeting his with a mix of vulnerability and forgiveness. "Maybe we can find a way to move forward together. A new beginning, of sorts."

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: First Impressions.

Pairing: Yandere!Xiao + Zhongli x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.5k.

TW: Modern AU, N/S/F/W, Rough Sex, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Dubiously Consensual Voyeurism, Questionable Implications, and Unhealthy Relationships.

Morax was taller than you’d expected him to be.

Well, not taller – it’d been hell to wrangle a name out of Xiao, let alone a physical description – but more imposing, more intimidating than you’d known to brace yourself for. You hadn’t thought to wonder just how piercing his dark eyes would be, just how high he’d hold himself, whether or not he’d be wearing the same clean-cut suit you’d seen in the sparse pictures Xiao had shown you, always begrudgingly, always with a scowl a little more pronounced than the one he usually wore. You hadn’t thought about how small you’d feel, sitting in front of him, resisting the urge to cross your legs and curse yourself aloud for not dressing as formally as your limited budget would allow.

You hadn’t expected to have to see Xiao, your boyfriend of a little over a year, straddling Morax’s thigh, attempting unsuccessfully to bite back stiffled whimpers and hitched moans as Morax split him open on his fingers.

Not that you hadn’t thought to ask any questions. You’d practically interrogated Xiao – spent all morning asking any and every question that came to mind (Should you wear glasses or contacts? How long would the drive be? Would he be more impressed if you were the one driving? Should you lie about your major? If you did lie about your major, would he be able to tell?). You’d asked, more times than you could count, if Xiao thought his dad would like you, and when he scowled and reiterated that Morax wasn’t his father, you’d just smiled and asked what he was supposed to be, then. You’d never gotten an answer – just pursed lips and a look you couldn’t quite read. You were starting to see why he'd been so cagey.

Morax wasn’t his dad. Or, you really, really hoped he wasn’t, at least. It was a little hard to gauge a family resemblance when Xiao’s face was buried in Morax’s chest, his fists balled around the fabric of a recently pressed dress-shirt as he fought to stifle the kind of pathetic, whimpering noises you’d never heard him make, before. Despite his best attempts to restrain himself, he was all flushed cheeks and parted lips, pliable and yielding in someone else’s hands. He’d been soft with you, prone to averting his eyes and turning red whenever you did anything more romantic than hold his hand, but never so fragile, never so easily cracked open. This side of him wasn’t just new - it was completely alien.

In comparison, Morax couldn’t have been more composed. His eyes were half-lidded, but not narrowed or clenched. His posture was straight, but not rigid, perfectly relaxed and perfectly poised without one factor compromising the other. He wasn’t frowning or smiling, scowling or sneering – his expression one of pleasant neutrality, as if he hadn’t yet decided how to feel about you, but would've preferred to enjoy your company. It made you want to make him like you. It made you want to run.

He cleared his throat, and you shrunk into yourself, resisting the urge to flee. Vertigo blurred and bruised your senses as you stared up at him from the opposing side of his impossibly tall desk, and you forced yourself to meet his gaze, swallow your anxiety and ignore the fresh wave of dread that washed in to fill the empty space. The door to his office was locked, and you'd needed half a dozen different key cards just to get to this floor, but you just couldn’t fight the intrusive thought that someone would walk in, see Xiao – see you. Morax didn’t seem particularly worried, but you didn’t know whether or not someone in his position would be. “Xiao tells me that you’re a student?”

A small smile came to rest across his lips. “An enterprising young scholar. This industry could use more people like you.” He would know. Xiao had neglected to mention that his Morax was the Morax, founder and CEO of Liyue – one of the most vicious corporations with a vice-grip on the free market, known for their cutthroat policies and ironclad contracts - and you hadn't made the connection until you stepped through the doors of his behemoth of a headquarters, until you finally found it in yourself to acknowledge the name plastered on every available surface. Even now, sitting in his office, it was difficult to believe. The fact that he was also finger-fucking your boyfriend did little to help. “I wanted to meet you sooner, but you know how Xiao can be. Always so shy – it’s a miracle he met someone as patient as you must be.”

Beneath your confusion, something else sparked: the inexplicable urge to impress the man in front of you. That was what you'd come here to do - meet the parents, make small talk, prove to Xiao that he could tryst you with more than just vague half-truths about his past. Only, you weren't meeting his parents, and you hadn't spoken in minutes, and you weren't sure that this was something you would've ever chosen to know.

As if in a daze, you found yourself nodding. “I am,” And then, when his expression didn’t waver. “I’m currently interning with Mondstadt's financial advisement department, too. It’s only an entry-level position, but they keep me busy.”

“I’m just happy to have met him at all.” He spread his fingers apart, and Xiao’s breath hitched, his hips bucking forward and grinding into Morax’s thigh. You could see precum soaking into the dark fabric. It’d leave a stain. “I’m sorry, Morax, sir, but I—”

“Zhongli will do. Outside of this building, there aren’t many people who still call me by that archaic name.” His smile broadened. “Go on.”

You nodded, and Xiao choked on a moan. “I just… I don’t think Xiao ever mentioned how you two knew each other.”

That, however unintentionally, earned a breathy laugh, a certain lilt to the way he held his head. “Xiao worked for me, for a time. I don’t need his help as often as I once did, but loyalty can be a difficult thing to find, and Xiao’s done more than enough to prove his faithfulness.” By way of reward, Morax— no, Zhongli flicked his wrist, curled his fingers in a way that seemed to make Xiao fracture. “I’m assuming you’ve fucked?”

It wasn’t the question that caught you off-guard, you were already numb to the point of distant apathy, but the vulgarity of it. Fucked. Someone like Zhongli shouldn’t have said something like that. Someone like Xiao shouldn’t have been doing something like this. “We have.”

“I’m assuming you had to initiate?”

“No, sir.” Your tongue felt like lead, your mind like quickly dissipating fog. “He’s very assertive.”

Something behind his eyes seemed to catch the lights. From a distance, you watched as he leaned toward Xiao, cupping his chin and muttering something inaudible in his ear before turning his attention back to you. “How is he? Dominant? Controlling? Desperate?” He paused, tapping Xiao’s cheek with his thumb. His pace slowed, and Xiao whined in protest, the sound high-pitched and needy. “Tell me he’s attentive, at least. It’d be a shame if all my hard work amounted to so little.”

You tried to reach for the arm of your chair, to steady yourself, but your limbs felt like they were made of static, your head stuffed with cotton, and it was all you could do to keep yourself upright, to tear your eyes away from Xiao and let your gaze fall to the floor – tasteful faux-wood, freshly waxed and completely unmarred. You don’t know how long you spent there, answering Zhongli’s prying questions with little ‘no, sir’s and ‘yes, sir’s, biting the inside of your cheek and trying to remind yourself that eventually, this would end. You heard Xiao’s voice, pulled so far from the airy grunts and stifled groans he’d usually spare for you, saw something white and thick drip onto those perfectly wooden floors, and finally, Zhongli clicked his tongue, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over Xiao’s exposed form with more than a note of tenderness. He kept Xiao pressed into his chest as he stood, supporting him effortlessly, and only spared you a glance, a smile before nodding to the farthest wall of his office, to a door built into the paneling that you hadn’t noticed, not until he nudged it open with his shoulder and beckoned you inside. You were led, glassy-eyed and trace-like, through a series of vacant hallways and empty stairwells, into a dimly-lit garage where a sleek, black car waited – a luxury model, the engine still running and the driver obscured behind tinted windows. Xiao, legs shaking and swimming in his borrowed jacket, was ushered into the backseat, and then, Zhongli looked toward you, his expression expectant.

“I’ll join you in a few hours.” It was the shell of an excuse, all the polite formality without the explanation, the part that was actually supposed to give you any kind of closure. “Xiao will take care of you until I’m more available.”

You pursed your lips, keeping your eyes on the ground as you spoke. “Do… do we have something else to talk about?”

“Oh, you don’t have to worry. We won’t be talking for much longer.” His tone was light, gentle. Cloyingly saccharine in a way that left your vision clouded and something acidic rising into the back of your throat. “You wouldn’t want to disappoint an old man, now, would you?”

For a long moment, you hesitated.

Then, with no small amount of reluctance, you slipped into the backseat, letting Zhongli close the door behind you.

As the car started moving, Xiao slumped against your side, burying his face in the crook of your shoulder. You felt his breath fan over your throat, his body seeping heat into your cold skin as he mumbled something into your ear, nearly lost under the sounds of tires against pavement.

“I love you.”

You didn’t have a chance to respond, not before his mouth latched onto his throat and his teeth sank into your neck.

[aimfor-theheart]

|| zhongli x afab!reader || E/18+ || smut/a touch of angst/comfort || wc: 7k || ao3 ||

minors and ageless blogs do not interact, 18+ only

You have never been patient enough for worship. Sometimes, he thinks you always expect to be scorned or feared or hated. As a god of hunger, you are not beloved or worshiped by many, if any at all.

You’ve never known the sort of worship that he gives you. 

✧ meet fruit collab masterlist ✧

a/n: this is apart of @willowser 's house server summer collab, meet fruit!! i took plums as my prompt!! this really got away from me and i had a lot of fun with this dynamic and i WILL be writing more of godly wife!reader and zhongli. i have a whole backstory. a huge massive fic i shouldn't work on but will fjdkslfdk i also need to give a special thanks to @itoshisoup , @lorelune , and @petrichorium for helping me with brainstorming and riffing earlier! also finding some godly names for the reader! in particular, mao came up with the name Tanai Zhenjun, which i will leave a note at the end about!! i hope you enjoy this sweet taste!! thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts <333

tags: afab!reader referred to as wife, and has several godly titles that mortals have called her, etc., a complicated relationship between zhongli and reader, mentions of past fights/canon typical violence, erotic fruit eating and feeding, finger sucking, biting, oral sex (f!recieving), some over stimulation, praise, maybe a little sex pollen because the reader causes feelings of hunger/lust/etc. but its consensual and zhongli can withstand it if he wanted, scratching, unhealthy godly dynamics, let me know if i missed anything!

In the shadows of his home, he would know you anywhere. 

(He would know you even if you didn’t appear to him like this, fully formed, and in the visage of mortals. He’d know you in the thunder and the wolves’ howl. He’d know you in autumn’s bitter wind and the fox’s cry. Across all of time, he’d know you.) 

You slip, serpentine, slow and with the easy grace of a predator into the last falling light of the sun; bronzed, honeyed, and appearing before him like you did decades ago, perhaps a hundred of years ago. 

Has it been so long already? 

The sight of you–perhaps simply you, yourself, spark an ache in his chest. Fierce. Hunger pains. 

And after all these years, he welcomes it, savors the pit in his stomach like a sweet fruit. 

You, his god of hunger. 

You, his divine wife. 

He tips his head back, leaning further into the chair at his deep, mahogany desk, as if he could fix his eyes to better see you. As if he could take in more of you, somehow, greedily, hungirly. 

“Hello, my Morax.” You hum and the sun catches in your eye as you step into his life again, after so long without. 

“Hello, my love.” He responds, as if it could’ve just been yesterday.

As if you are his wife and you’ve come home to greet him. As if he is your husband and he’s been working all day without you. 

“It’s been a long time,” he says then, “you’ve been away a long time.” 

You meander closer, on the other side of his desk, peering at the scrolls and papers there. His hands are stained in ink. He catches the downturn of your lips, the small quirking of them in displeasure. Such mortal things, he can hear your voice, the little hiss you get when you dislike something. 

But then your eyes roam to the bowl of fruit, now untouched, that had been brought to him in hopes of eating;

Slices of plum, gold and orange and tender on the inside, their moon-dark skins still curved to them. One still has the pit attached to it, carefully nestled within its flesh. 

Plums always remind him of you. 

(In truth, anything with pits, with bones, with something that can be picked clean and left behind reminds him of you.) 

In an instant, your fingers, nimble–adorned with his jewels, the jewels of his earth, snag a slice.

He watches as you sink your teeth into it, juice bursting, caught on your lip. 

You chew only a moment, swallow slowly as you watch him. 

“I thought I wasn’t allowed around Liyue Harbor,” you begin, “I thought I wasn’t allowed around your precious mortals.” 

His voice, low and soft, rumbles in affirmation. “Yes, that is true.” 

“And yet you speak to me like I’m welcome.” You hold the last bite of your slice to your lips, speaking against it, “like I should’ve visited sooner.” 

You bear down into the fruit again. 

“You’ve come to pick a fight?” He asks, “I can feel you’re trying to stir trouble.” 

And it's true; your ability as a god of hunger, to spark it in others. To sharpen and change it from starvation to bloodlust to desire to despair to greed–to any form of hunger. 

You caused whole towns to be decimated, driven mad with just the residuals of you, the feeling of you too near, like a wraith haunting their doorway. You turned tides in the Archon war for him and against him. You have always been one of the biggest threats to Liyue’s peace—to the world. Perhaps even beyond.

You perch on the corner of his desk prettily. 

“I can’t visit my husband?” You purr.

He quirks a brow, “you only ever call me husband when you’re trying to kill me.”

Your grin is a wild slip of excitement, a fissure of heat in the clash of your gazes.

“I am trying to kill you,” you agree, but perhaps you have always been trying to kill him. The battles between you two carved the very land of Liyue and at the end of them, no matter what had transpired, he was still your husband. And you, his wife. “But I don’t feel like fighting tonight.” 

You pluck another slice of plum from the bowl and bring it to your mouth. He watches your lips part to take the fruit in again. 

He thinks of replacing your hand with his own. He thinks of the sticky sweet taste he would find if he licked into your mouth, he thinks of being between your teeth again like the little piece of plum.  

Something inside of him yawns open. 

You’re toying with him. 

“You’re in rare form, then.” he hums and does not deny your draw. He has long since stopped trying not to be swept up in you–he realized it was inevitable at some point. You would always pull at parts of him none of the world had, and like a puppeteer did you play with those strings. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

You gaze down at him, almost lovingly, if he didn’t know better. 

Then you shift slightly, adjust yourself. 

And the first touch he has of you in decades, perhaps a century, is just a brushing of your calf against his forearm from where you sit atop his desk. Your bare skin beneath the pooling silks of your skirts. 

Heat rips through him like a tearing wound. 

His gaze flicks up to yours. 

“Did you know I was in Liyue?” You ask. 

“I always know the moment you enter my land again.” 

I always know the moment you come home. 

You shift your leg again, this time, a steadier press to his arm. 

He can’t help himself–he shifts his arm, opens his palm up against the curve of your bare calf to fully feel you, to hold you, in any minute way you might let him. Rough calluses scrape up  against the soft skin of your leg, the silk of your dress pooling around his arm, cool and like spun moonlight. 

You let him hold you like this, curl against the contour of you. His hand moves, dips down almost to your ankle, and back up to the bend of your knee. 

“You missed me,” you accuse, your voice a teasing lilt. 

Perhaps it’s you and the heady rush you cast on a room, on him, “yes,” he agrees honestly, “I always do.” 

“So sentimental in your old age. You’ve spent too long around these mortals.” You tell him, looking away so all you give him is the profile of your lovely face. The upward tilt of your chin, the haughty way you look down your nose. 

“Did you miss me?” He asks and he isn’t looking for you to placate him, but his hand is broad and inching up the back of your thigh. He pulls at you, urges you to the edge of the desk, where his other hand fits around the curve of your waist. 

“Don’t get greedy,” you chastise gently, but you still go with the pull of his hold. 

You slip into his lap like you were always meant to be there, fitting to him the way the moon fits into the sky, or the land against the sea. It’s an ancient feeling, bone deep, soul-cut. 

You let your arms fall around his neck loosely and to have you again in his embrace, after so long, does in fact, make him feel greedy. 

“I can feel it,” he says instead, perhaps just to spite you a little–to move another piece in this eternal chess game with you. “I can feel how you ache. I can feel the way you missed me.” 

“I always feel like that,” you snip, deft fingers slipping the band in his hair out so that it all falls free, loose and flowing over his shoulders in a wave of inky black. “I am always hungry like that.” 

“No,” he says and his voice is low like a wolf’s growling, a tiger’s purr, “I know your hunger. And I know this hunger of yours. You missed me.” 

“If you’re looking for a heartfelt confession, you won’t find it in me.” You tell him, proud little god that you’ve always been, “perhaps you’ll find it in your precious mortals.” 

Your voice takes on an edge, just shy of a sneer.

He laughs, a low rumble from his chest, amused, and pleased.

“Oh, that jealousy of yours. I missed that, too.” 

“Don’t get full of yourself,” you hiss like an asp and now, he worries you’ll bring your claws out. Your eyes glint in the last rays of light, like a bolt of lightning, like a spark of flame in a cold night.

He reaches up to touch your face, thumb sweeping over the arc of your jaw bone in a possessive hold. He forces you to look at him. “Come now, I thought you said you weren’t in the mood for a fight.”

“Then don’t test me.” You snap.

He fights back another fond smile in order to not test you further than he already has. 

He leans closer, his nose almost nudging against yours, “if you’re not here to fight. What are you here for?” 

“To eat through all your land until it is barren again.” You murmur and he knows it is just to pester him. Your fingers are winding in his long, silky hair and your eyes have gone half-lidded, so he knows you are not nearly as waspish as you’re pretending to be.

“If I could satiate your hunger, I would.” He murmurs darkly, lips brushing against yours as you carefully hold yourself back, a dog on a strained leash. At your best, you have always been a caged beast, pacing and desperate for escape. At your worst, you have been nothing short of desolation, teeth upon the earth in a vicious grasp, shaking hard, tearing it to shreds. Your bite never compared to your bark. You’d threaten destruction and deliver devastation; even you, surprised with your own vitriol, your own capability for demolition. 

He threatened to muzzle you once, long ago. 

You rear back slightly to look at him, “no, you wouldn’t. What would you have me be? Content?” 

He laughs softly again, low and warm, terribly fond of you despite it all, “yes,” he says very frankly, and then, “soothed, for once in your life.” 

“I won’t ever be soothed while you walk this earth.” You tell him and he cannot tell if you mean it with vengeance or with love. Are you being romantic? Or threatening him? Sometimes, he felt that your violence was supposed to be more like a kiss, and your kiss the type of violence that leaves him ruined for decades after. 

“And you would be after?” He asks, “I don’t think you’d know what to do if you finally managed to kill me in a meaningful capacity. You’d be bored.” 

You move to pull away from him with a snarl but he fastens his hold onto you tighter to get you to stay, he touches your face again, coaxing. “I only tease you.” 

“I said don’t test me.” You respond, but again, there is nothing nearly so vicious in you tonight. 

No, he knows the hunger in you tonight is a soft creature, a warbling, tender one. He’ll be kind to it, he will feed it and tend to it, even if he knows it will only grow larger still. Like caring for a tiger cub, only for it to grow into all those teeth and muscles, to bite the hand that fed it. 

“Forgive me,” he rumbles, and this time, he angles your head so that he can skim the strong line of his nose against your jaw, “let me make it up to you.” 

“You will not be able to,” you say indignantly and his own smile now feels sharper with the challenge, with your throat so near. He settles himself into a burning kiss against your pulse. Inside of him, something catches and sparks. Your hands curl around the muscles of his shoulders. 

“I know,” he coos, low and soft, almost sympathetic. “Then at least indulge the hunger you’ve caused in me.” 

This, in the least, you settle into. 

He pulls away barely to sit back, to look at you fully in all of your glory a moment. 

You look back at him, perhaps taking him in as well. 

The smoldering turns into a flame. 

The decades of years unspool inside of him and give way to a racing mind, images of what he wants, how he wants you. 

It is always like this, he thinks, eternally, desiring you, and never getting enough.

He thinks he must know how you feel. 

And then he gives into one of several of his desires that are rearing their large, horned heads inside of him. The beasts of his desire are all chained to you, he thinks. He reaches for the bowl of fruit. 

Perhaps it's your turn to be amused as he brings a slice of plum to your lips. You must know how he was looking at you earlier, you must know his desires if you are the one to stoke them. 

Still, you accept the fruit easily, minding your teeth as his finger slips against your lips. Sticky and soft and warm. You draw his finger into your mouth briefly, closing around it. He can feel the edges of your teeth as he pulls it out. 

The moment you swallow around the piece, he surges up to kiss you. 

To finally kiss you. 

He wishes he could call it something of a greeting or reunion, but it is too desperate and too vicious for that. Your teeth click together, coming up against one another, like an old key coming up against a lock. 

He tastes the plum in your mouth, sweet and a little tart, and can’t help the groan that rumbles out of him. 

Your hands disappear into his hair, tangle in the strands so that he can feel the press of your nails against his scalp. He feels the way you arch into the slide of his hands along your torso, bending to them, as if he is a sculptor. It pulls you closer, opens your hips wider in his lap in a way that makes heat rip through him.

When he pulls away, you’re already hazy-eyed, heady with the quick-burn of this sort of hunger, this lust. 

It pulls at him like the tide on the shore to drag him under. 

This time, when he places his lips to your throat, he sinks into a bite at the tender flesh there. 

Sometimes, he wishes he’d treat you more tenderly. As if that might be all you ever needed; more gentleness, and less teeth at your throat. 

But you arch and from your mouth spills your own moan finally, fingers tightening in his hair as if to hold him there. He feels your hips twitch forward, into him, an aborted rock of them, perhaps unknowingly or subconscious.

He wishes you inspired patience in him. 

(Usually, he claims to have a great deal. Unfortunately, he cannot claim the same with you in his arms again. Forgive me, he thinks again, but I haven’t seen you in nearly a century.) 

He stands suddenly with you still wrapped around his waist, hands fit beneath your thighs to lift you and place you on the broad expanse of his desk. Papers get pushed aside, some topple onto the floor in a fluttering mess. You laugh when the bowl of plums rattle precariously, but his mouth covers yours again, and he swallows the sound eagerly. 

He kisses you hard again, hitching your hips up to fit snugly to his, fitting his broad hands over the curves of your waist. You respond in kind, though, and twine your leg around his waist to pull him closer, arch your back to press your chest up to his.

When he pulls away this time, he takes you in, splayed out beneath him. 

“I did miss you,” he gets out roughly.

“Then show me,” you respond, stretching out beneath him, as if to tempt him. 

His hands move over the silk of your dress, bunching parts of it, tangling it. He decides in an instant that he doesn’t actually wish to deal with it, so he sets his hands on the bust and simply pulls. It tears like paper beneath him. And again, you laugh, amused with him now, with what you do to him.

“So impatient.” 

“It’s been a long time, my love.” 

And this time when he kisses you, perhaps you give into him more, feed what he wants. You mewl into his mouth, arch against him, drag your nails down his covered back. 

“Touch me,” you get out, demanding, a little fussy. 

“So impatient.” He mocks dryly. 

For his trouble, you pull harshly on the hair at the nape of his neck, baring his throat to you. 

His broad palm roams up the expanse of your side, your bare stomach, and to your chest. He cups your breast, thumb brushing against the peak in a way that makes you hum and squirm beneath him eagerly. 

You bury your face in his now exposed neck, nudge your nose there, which turns into your warm, open mouth. 

For a moment, surprisingly gentle, until he feels the quick flash of pain from your teeth. He rolls your nipple between thumb and forefinger with a little more pressure than necessary, just to hear the little noise of pain you make. 

He drops his face to the crux of your chest, lips dragging along the skin there, above your beating heart. And for all your bite and bark, you still offer yourself up to him for the taking. You still draw your hands over his shoulders, pushing at the clothes still on him. He doesn’t indulge you, but draws lower, hair spilling over your chest as his mouth opens against your breast. 

He nips and marks, sets his teeth against the tender flesh and sucks a bruise into you. 

“I miss your sharp teeth,” you admit.

He huffs, breath fanning against your skin. He raises his eyes, molten gold, to meet your own, “there’s no pleasing you.” 

And then he captures the bud of your breast in his mouth and at least manages to pull another sound from you, meandering, growing in your own desire. You squirm beneath him again but something inside of him (old and draconic) blinks its eyes open and he seizes your waist to still you the way a predator subdues their prey, sharply, and with a slow rolling of muscle, a flex of their strength. A serpent squeezing down around a mouse. A tiger bearing down on the deer. 

You don’t go easily, though. 

And the moment you feel his resistance, you squirm and push harder, straining. Arching and impatient. 

He nips, he fights back the more base urge to growl, and readjusts his hold on you.

“Stop squirming,” he commands.

“Stop teasing,” you reply, stubborn, and disobedient. 

“Let me enjoy you.” Zhongli responds, watching his own hand sweep over your breast, cover it, and toy with you. 

“Enjoy me later.” You snip, fastening your legs tighter to his waist, hitching him closer. 

And he feels a head rush of your ability pour through him, the tightening of your desire and lust, of your hunger spilling from you. It’s purposeful. He feels the dull thud of his heart kick upwards, the warmth that simmers beneath his skin. He blinks hard with it, but does not succumb. 

“You’re so insolent.” He finally gets out, just shy of a growl, “now hold still for me.” 

His lips skim the top of your stomach as he lowers himself to his knees in front of you. 

You sit up onto your elbows, eyeing him, inching your hips to the edge of the desk eagerly. 

“I’ve always liked you best on your knees, Morax.” 

He sinks his teeth into your inner thigh in a more ruthless bite, forcing your legs open even as they threaten to close with the sudden jolt of pain. Hard enough that you hiss through your teeth, twitching towards or away from him, he can’t tell. 

(Images of days long past flash hotly in his mind, in another form, with those sharper teeth you’d said you missed.) 

He feels your hunger burst open like a ripe fruit, like the plum between your teeth. 

He soothes the bite with a slow, lingering pass of his tongue. 

His eyes flick upwards towards you. 

You look a little shaken finally, eyes glassy, teeth stuck in your bottom lip. 

He drags you closer, pulls you flush so that your hips are almost off the edge. You fall back with the movement and he doesn’t give you a moment. He isn’t feeling generous or very kind anymore. 

His mouth opens against you in a crush of heat, eager, perhaps impatient himself. 

A groan, low, from the back of his throat, works out of him at the first taste of you. 

Again, you try to squirm, and something ancient and vicious in him squeezes hard enough on your waist that if you were a mortal, he might sincerely hurt you. He doesn’t care if you’re trying to squirm closer or away, he realizes, he doesn’t care if it hurts a little, as long as he can have you like this. Open. His. 

Ah, he realizes, perhaps he isn’t ignoring your sway as well as he thought he was. 

He delves between soft folds, already slick, but he’ll make it worse still. 

(Perhaps, at one point, he had ideas of being a gentleman of some kind with you. Perhaps, at some point, he thought he would carefully work you open with mouth and soft tongue. He’d be loving and gentle with you. But you’ve always done something horrible to him, something he can’t tame, something he wishes he feared more.) 

You whine a little and the sound pools straight into his own desire for you. 

He fits himself closer, keeps your legs wider apart with his shoulders. 

“Morax,” you gasp and it’s with more heat and desperation than he is anticipating.

His eyes, heavy and gold, flick up towards your face, looking up at you beneath the dark fan of his lashes. 

Oh, you’re closer than he thought, he realizes. 

He doesn’t slow or stop or lessen himself, groans a little, and fits himself tighter to you. He digs his fingers into your skin and keeps you close. 

To his surprise, that is all it takes. 

Your gasp is strangled, perhaps a little surprised, as you arch off the desk in a bow-curve, poised to snap.

You fall to pieces as a cry loosens from your throat. 

He feels you pulse against his tongue and without thinking, he growls a little, a pleased rumble, and doesn’t stop.

He tastes you, savors it, and doesn’t let you hide or pull away from him.

Your hips twist and he follows the movement, wrestling you still, so that he can still enjoy you. 

You’re out of breath, hiccuping a little, trying to squirm away from him but there’s nowhere to go.

He won’t let you go.

He pulls away to rest his head on your inner thigh a moment, “so quick.” He teases, “you must’ve been pent up for it to be that easy.” 

He thinks, I wasn’t even doing that for you yet—I was still enjoying myself. I was being greedy. Hungry in my own way, in the way that you inspire.

“I should leave you now.” You huff, picking yourself up on your elbows to gaze down at him, but your eyes are simmering.

He squeezes at your thighs, “you’re not going anywhere tonight.”

And before he can hear your protests, he dips forward again and flattens his tongue against your folds. Slow, broad licks that make you twist and twitch. 

“Morax—“ 

“I’m not finished with you yet, my love.” He says lowly, somewhere against where you’re most tender and sensitive. 

He takes his time teasing now. 

Enjoy me later, you’d said, and he doesn’t think this is what you meant. 

You have never been patient enough for teasing–for worship. Sometimes he thinks you always expect to be scorned or feared. You were always Deus Inanis, Tanai Zhenjun, and later, Rapax Regina to the people. You have many names from them, none particularly kind or cherished. You were always the ghoulish god, the bad omen, the drooling maw of a starved predator. Your myth is not a beloved one by most. 

And some dare not even speak your name at all, for fear of inviting you. 

You are not a welcome god in the home and hearth, you are not for protection or courage. You are feared and warded off. You are, at best, used as a condemnation. 

(To him you were always softened with affection, even at your worst; little god, my curse, my love, keeper of my heart.) 

You’ve never known the sort of worship he gives you. 

You struggle with it, keen sharp and broken when he gives it to you. 

Sometimes you have all-out tried to refuse him or hasten him, poured your lust and impatience into him to get your way, to sway him to your own will. He can feel it again now but it never manifests in him the way you’d like it to. You assume his desire is one of his own pleasure. But it has always been this; 

You, belly-up and vulnerable, only for him, delicate in a way the rest of the world will never know. Pleasure-drunk and hazy. Lost to what he can give you–he wants to gorge you. He wishes he could fill the empty place inside of you. 

He’s spent an eternity trying. He’ll spend an eternity more. 

He focuses his intentions, strengthens the pass of his tongue with what he wants. He wants your pleasure. He wants it again and again. 

You curse a little, an ancient word, from when the land was Archon-less and free. 

He lifts his mouth from you briefly, “you are already cursing like that? This will be a long night for you then.” 

He opens his mouth again to taste you, to suck gently, your legs twitching over his shoulders as your breath hitches. 

This time you curse him, hissing through clenched teeth.  

He laughs against you in amusement, low and dark, and smooths a broad hand over the soft plain of your tensing stomach. As if he might soothe you, or perhaps because he wants to feel all of you, have you in his palms, in his arms. Against his mouth.

The next time you fall apart, he doesn’t let up once. His eyes have gone half-lidded and burning, a flint-strike of amber. You try to fight him again, wrestle out of his hold, but he strengthens himself. He steels himself, even, to your pulling of his hair, to your fussing and snapping–all of that melts to whining, to near-crying, as he continues. 

You’re too stubborn to cry for him now–there have been only a handful of times he’s broken you down that much. 

Perhaps if he were feeling crueler, he would try. 

(These instances have always come in the wake of something worse; your largest fights, or worst transgressions where he felt the need to punish. To strip you bare. These are saved, not for his desires, but for your catharsis after all your grief.) 

But your voice has gone higher with desperation, more broken, and he is pleased with that. 

Pleased enough that when you burst on his tongue again, your nails digging into the back of his hand as he holds you, he finally rises. 

Instantly, you twine yourself around him, legs around his waist, arms pulling at the front of his clothes to drag him down into your arms. You are always more desperate for affection like this, softened by pleasure, hungry for more. 

He goes down easily for you.

 Kisses you hard and open, so that you’ll taste yourself from his mouth, the way he tasted the plum from yours. 

You groan weakly and manage to gasp when he pulls away, “please–more. I need more. Need–” 

Always need, you say, when you get like this. Never want. 

“Need you.” 

He hums, the noise lumbering from his chest in a pleased, dark sound. 

“You have me,” he soothes, even as he feels dizzy with your own desire, a headrush of desperation–of need that rushes from you to him. 

Feed me, need me, fill me, possess me, take, take, take me. Fill. Aching–so empty, I’m so empty. Please, please, it hurts– please, I need more, need, need, need–

He lets out a harsh breath. It aches, almost sharply, almost on the wrong side of pain and pleasure. 

He does not torment you any longer. He does not torment himself, either. 

With fingers far more nimble than he feels, he loosens his slacks, he pushes his clothes out of the way just enough, enough to take himself in hand and hiss through his teeth as the head of his cock touches your slick folds. 

Molten. Fluttering still with sensitivity, with desperation. 

Your hips roll, eager, trying to urge him closer, inside–

“Morax–” you cry and the sound twists something in his chest, blooms like a bruise being pressed on. 

 He presses inside you and fills you in one, deep thrust. 

You gasp sharply, you pull at him, force him to collapse over you nearly, cover you completely. You cling to him, you wrap yourself around him like a serpent, now constricting him–

(He’s never been able to tell who is the serpent and who is the mouse, anyways. Who is the tiger or the deer? Was he capturing you? Or were you always capturing him?)

You hold him so tightly, calves flexing around his back, that he can hardly pull out from you to thrust.

He groans, almost in frustration, or maybe some form of defeat. 

“Darling,” he gets out roughly, “my love. My little god.”

The old, affectionate nickname burns through you and he can feel the desire like a knife’s blade in his own stomach. You moan– a soft, warbling sound. 

He manages to move his hips, barely leaving the hot clutch of you, to push back in deeper, harder. 

“Please–” you gasp, “more–kiss me. Touch me.”

“So demanding,” he scolds, but he kisses you hard, with too much teeth and roughness, and fits his palms over the sides of your body. He takes handfuls of curves, of your waist and your breasts, rough hands bending over the lines of you the way the light of the moon bends over the hills and valleys of his land. 

His next thrust is harder, a little rougher. You turn your face into his throat after you break the kiss and your teeth sink down into him hard. 

You always draw blood. You always have to leave your mark on him, on all that you’ve touched. 

But then you draw your tongue over the wound, licking softly, perhaps in apology. Perhaps to satiate another need that winds around inside you. 

Your hand tangles in his hair again and he bites back another raw groan as he thrusts, in and out, on a slow, rough drag. You’re clinging to him, tight and so wet that it’s making his thoughts bleary and clouded. Your lust shadows any rationality; your hunger possesses him. 

“Harder,” you gasp, you beg, you plead. 

And he thinks who am I to deny you? Who am I to deny the god of my hunger? 

His hand slips over your arm, your free one clawing at his clothed back still. He knows you will mourn not getting your nails into his skin after, but he will let you satiate the need all you like later. He’ll savor the way you try to tear him apart, like he always does. 

(And sometimes, he swears, you’re just trying to tear down his skin to be closer. Deeper in him. Scratching at his ribs and his sides like you want in, in, in. A bad dog at his door. A wraith that claws at his soul.)      

As he pulls at your forearm, flattening it out against the desk beneath you to pin you beneath him, he knocks into the bowl of fruit. 

The last of the plum slices tip out onto the desk and the remaining juice at the bottom of the bowl pools in a sticky mess over the wood, some over your forearm and wrist, over his own, too. 

He thinks you move without thinking, bringing his wrist up to your lips where you lick up a stripe up into his palm, against his thumb. 

You take his thumb into your mouth with ease and he cups your cheek in a possessive hold as he lets you suckle, tongue soft and warm and gentle against the pad of it. You groan, lashes fluttering, and this seems to please some part of you. 

His thumb in your mouth, cock lodged deep inside you. 

He pushes himself deeper on his next thrust, enough that you whine a little, eyes going glassy, cheeks hollowing around his thumb. 

He can feel the spit pooling in your mouth, wet and slick, can feel the way your walls squeeze and flutter around him desperately. 

He presses on your tongue, thrust growing a little faster, but still hard, deep–a little ruthless. 

But it’s what you need–so it’s what he gives you. 

You hold his wrist, little nails digging into his skin, desperate to keep his thumb between your lips. He can feel the press of your teeth in the meat of his hand. 

He readjusts, tries to draw his thumb out barely, only for you to latch down tighter on his wrist, and slide it back into your mouth with a noise of protest. Saliva spills a little, slick and messy against your bottom lip, against his hand. 

He coos, but it’s too dark to sound reassuring, and sounds more like a rough purr, just shy of a pleased growl. 

“I won’t go anywhere,” he soothes lowly, but it sounds like less of a comfort from a husband, and more of a promise from the beast you shouldn’t have let in in the first place. It’s loving in the same way a possession is. “My little god, I have you now.” 

Your peak this time makes something inside of him roar open. He feels your inner muscles bear down on him, fluttering desperately. 

Your eyes tip behind your eyelids, hiccuped breath against his hand as it twists into a guttural sound that he feels against his palm. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs, turning your face so that he can press open mouthed kisses against your throat, suck a bruise there, turn the flesh tender, “I’ve got you. Good girl–that’s it.” 

Perhaps he draws blood when he bites you this time, too. Tastes it sharp on his tongue, the blood of a god. He lifts his head from your neck and finally draws his thumb from your mouth, spit slick as he traces your bottom lip. He pulls himself up from you to gaze down at you, slack jawed and messy, near feverish with your lust. 

His hips quicken, harder, and you reach out to splay your hand out against his tensing stomach, to push at him a little. 

But he doesn’t stop, feels you nip at his thumb, still making a mess of your lips and chin. 

Your legs are still hitched tight around him, drawing him in, keeping him close. 

He squeezes your hip with his free hand, he loses his rhythm when you draw his thumb back into your mouth, suckling softly on it. 

He groans, feels his own pleasure in a rush down his spine, a burst of heat that unfurls like a supernova. Collapses inward. Expands outwards. He buries himself inside of you, as deep as he can manage, deep enough that you make a little noise of pain maybe, but you hold him tight to you. Again, you constrict around him, dragging him back down by his clothes to slot your mouth against his as he fills you. 

It’s your turn to hum, pleased, almost purring, tightening your hold around him, locking him against you.

The kiss this time is slower, but dirtier, all tongue, open and messy. He groans into it, holding your jaw, feeling himself twitch inside of you, his own eyes fluttering with pleasure, lashes against your cheek. 

When you both pull away, you’re out of breath. Chests rising and falling against each other. 

You seem subdued now, heavy-lidded, but your lips drag to his cheek, down to the curve of his jaw. 

You roll your hips a little.

“More–” You murmur, “I want more.” 

His laugh tapers into a moan. He flexes his hips a little, heat simmering beneath his own skin. 

Your hands pull at his clothes finally, tugging at them, pulling at buttons until they snap and burst beneath your fingers, until you reveal bare skin. Instantly, your hands are on him, nails scratching into his chest gently, over his shoulders. 

(He’s going to take you to bed after this and he’ll rid you of the scraps of your clothes and the rest of his. He'll get rid of anything between you.) 

The ache in him builds again and suddenly he’s rocking into you again, deep and slow, watching the way he disappears inside of you. The mess he’s already made of you, the way he wants to make it all worse. He feels feverish himself now, a little lost to the sight– his desire suddenly feels inhuman. Monstrous. Too big for his own skin. 

You always seem to remind him of his divinity. 

“Hold me,” you demand now and as if commanded, he goes to you. 

He gets his arms around you and he tucks his face into the crook of your neck. His desire unwinds. Time unspools from him. He loses himself in the pull of you, in the undertow of desire and hunger. He tries to satiate the ache you have carved in him. The ache you always have nestled inside of you. 

You beg him of more–more pain and more pleasure and more of him–until he feels near mindless with it. Gone with it. 

Shuddering with sensitivity and feeling you tremble with it, too. 

He doesn’t regain himself until another peak has been reached and fallen from, until he realizes the hour; the moon hanging in the window of his study like a copper penny. He forces himself to slow. To lodge himself deep and go still inside of you and let his head fall to your chest.

You cradle his skull, fingers slipping into his hair, catching your breath as the haze fades for a moment. 

He picks his head up barely, shifts only so he can catch your gaze. 

“Stay for a while.” He demands now. 

 You let go of a sigh, deep, perhaps tired. 

“I thought I wasn’t allowed.” You hum softly. 

“Will you behave?” He asks and you lean down to kiss him–sweeter now. Perhaps apologizing. He accepts your affection with warmth, though. 

“You know how I get restless.” You respond, fingers tracing along the nape of his neck, one of them trailing down the bend of his jaw. 

You are softest now, like this. It’s a rare sight; one he savors, one he will stay hungry for his whole life, he thinks. 

“Yes,” he agrees, perhaps fondly, perhaps sadly. “If you could keep mortals out of it, I wouldn’t mind.” 

“Even if I tried to kill you again?” You ask, finger tracing the bow of his upper lip. 

He smiles faintly and you touch the corner of his mouth, “yes,” he agrees, “even then.” 

“Or tried to steal your Gnosis again?” 

He snorts softly, picking himself up further to hover over you, to gaze down at you with more love than you have ever known what to do with. “You can certainly try again.” 

“Perhaps I should try harder this time.” The threat is fangless this time and you are at least soothed somewhat for now. He knows it won’t last long. 

But for now, he takes advantage of it. He cups your cheek, brushes his thumb along your jaw affectionately, and for once, you nuzzle into the touch. You rub your cheek into his palm like a cat. 

A flash of your teeth. You bite down into his hand. 

He laughs softly, but pulls his hand from you, dislodges your teeth from his flesh. 

Slowly, he tries to detangle himself from you. You are reluctant, but he appeases you with promises of more, of his bedroom. Of a bath and whatever you want. 

“More plums,” you say, letting him carry you to his bedroom like a young bride, cradled in his arms. “I’ve always loved plums.” 

He smiles, “I know. They remind me of you.” 

The admittance is a tender one, one that he has held for centuries that has finally loosened from his mouth like a bird taking to flight. 

In the morning, when you have slipped from him and his bed and his life once more, all that’s left are the marks you left on him, the deep scratches and latches of your teeth on tan skin–

And the pits of plums you devoured before you left. Not one is spared and he thinks his heart never has been, either. 

Not from you, his wife, his curse, his love–not from his god of hunger. 

***

a/n part ii: thank you for reading!! here are those notes on the reader's godly names:

There are three titles the reader is referred to. Two of them are latin, similar to Rex Lapis, and the third is from @itoshisoup, and is Tanai Zhenjun, which mao explained as such: "贪爱 (tanai) is a Buddhist term that is often translated as "craving", and refers to desire for both physical and mental things. From my understanding, tanai is sometimes considered a cause of suffering (苦 or ku), but is sometimes considered closely related to suffering in other ways. Given the motif of hunger, I would name the god Tanai, and additionally give them the honorific "Zhenjun" (a title associated with Taoist gods - much like "Dijun", which is the honorific in Zhongli's Chinese title, Yanwang Dijun; however, it is a lesser title than Dijun). Tanai Zhenjun is therefore what I'd call them."

The other two are Deus Inanis and Rapax Regina, which mean "empty god" and "rapacious/ravenous queen" in Latin.

i plan to write more of this reader and use these godly names again soon &lt;3

[tenderfxck]

hello!!! i really like ur sub characters they make me giggle ngl cause like awww <3 if it’s okay can I request a Zhongli x reader where during the night he lets his half dragon form out while he rests, so he has his horns and tail out but still looks human (I think that is his morax form) however the reader doesn’t know about him being a dragon so one night as he has his form out, she is having a wet dream and poor Li’ has to grit his teeth and try not to whimper and buck his hips up as she grinds and humps his tail :(( poor baby is getting all the stimulation but not enough at this same time :(( Eventually he’ll come and twitch while slapping a hand over his mouth to stop his whining as his beloved continues to grind all over his tail, rubbing its most sensitive parts and he just has to endure the overstimulation. (Have a good day!)

zhongli//restless night//f!reader//18+

contents: half dragon! zhongli, f!reader, somno, accidental voyerism, shit anon you got me good T T

notes: AAAAAH i'm so late, sorry this took forever, there was a whole lot going on in my life but i’m still so happy you sent this spicy prompt to me, it was so much fun to write💕

it was a time of rest. a time when he allowed himself to relax just enough that he wouldn’t have to keep up the appearance of a human anymore.

the long amber horns were allowed to sprout from his temples, while his long tail resembling that color of oudh wood was permitted to spread itself across the fine sheets that wangshu inn provided.

and yet, now you have spread yourself across him. . .

this certainly wasn’t the plan, but can anything ever go accordingly when it comes to you?

zhongli wasn't expecting to be in such a vulnerable position with you. he was typically vigilant about hiding his dragon-like form, dismissing himself from your company to his own room for the night before unwinding.

but tonight, wangshu inn was fully booked except for one solitary room.

with only one bed.

you fussed about the arrangement, but zhongli merely chuckled, assuring you that as long as you were comfortable, he did not mind the prospect of sharing.

so the two of you shared this bed together. zhongli had thought absolutely nothing of it. he'll just retain his human form all night.

well, that was the plan, until he felt your weight dip the other side of the mattress, settling so comfortably against his form as you quickly dozed off. he could smell the sweet scent of your perfume, feel the soft cotton of your nightgown against him. it was just so. . .cozy. warm and safe

soon enough, zhongli could feel his human form slipping, sprouting those more dragon-like traits without him noticing.

well. . .then he'll just wake up before your pretty eyes even think to flutter open. zhongli will change back and you'll never be the wiser to this altered state he finds himself in now.

yes, a fine plan.

(and one that would let him indulge in the warmth and comfort of you as he dozed off)

but of course, that's when you saw fit to strike upon him.

it is had all started so innocently. just you clinging to him, snuggled up so cutely even as he faced away from you. you had been positioned against him, cradling his back as you spooned his resting form. his great tail was in between those soft thighs, but zhongli had decent enough self-control to ignore it.

that’s when he first felt the thrust of your hips.

he was on the cusp of waking and asleep until the sudden motion enticed him away from the edge.

he thought nothing much of it. just the shifting of your body to a more comfortable position. he was settling in to his pillow once again when he felt the rock of hips against his tail again.

a gasp was caught in his throat, unsure if what happened wasn't just an active imagination on his part. zhongli held his breath, waiting to see if it was just a trick of his mind.

and then there it was again. a long, drawn out stroke of your hips. and this time, the heavenly sigh of your voice to accompany it.

zhongli grit his teeth, listening intently for any sign that you had awoken, but all that graced his ears was your soft snores accompanied by tiny little whimpers escaping you.

unknowingly, in a fit of passion only clear to you in whatever blissful dream your sleeping form had conjured up, you were nonetheless grinding upon zhongli’s ridged tail in what was now becoming a slow, yet steady pace.

“a-ah~ excuse me,” he stuttered, barely able to process the scene enfolding behind him. he stumbled over his words, desperately searching for any way to wake you up without mortifying the two of you. “you seem to be-aah!” zhongli couldn’t contain that little outburst. he gasped at the steady friction you provided.

zhongli couldn’t believe the circumstances. he turned his head, chancing a look back upon your peaceful form.

sure enough you were still soundly asleep, unaware of the lewd situation playing out before you.

it didn’t help that his tail was overly sensitive to stimuli (something left over from more primordial days) and especially that of your wet cunt catching on each prominent bump along his long tail.

“a-ah, wait, that’s. . . nngh!” zhongli tried to protest. he knew the implications this would have if you were to wake up and discover more than just the illicit situation you found yourselves in.

but zhongli had desired you for so long. thought about just what noises you would make in circumstances like this long before he found himself here tonight. and now it was all coming true. right in his ear.

and right against him. . .

fuck. your needy pussy humping his sensitive tail was just too much. the worst part is he could feel just exactly how wet you had gotten using him to get yourself off. he grasps at the waistband of his pants, dragging them down and letting his already weeping cock spring forth from the cotton confines.

it’d shame him to admit just how quickly this little routine had him stiff and aching in his pants. but his self restraint had already eroded to much.

if you were enjoying yourself, perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to indulge himself as well?

zhongli took his cock in hand and began to slowly stroke, focusing on the distinct feeling of you moving against him. he bit his tongue, willing any moans to die on his lips before he dares disturbs your slumber.

it continued like that for archons knows how long. the thrust of your hips, followed by zhongli silencing his moans and fisting his cock quicker, all while enduring all those sweet little whimpers escaping you as you chased your own pleasure on his tail.

it was too much. too much stimulation, too many little sounds. the slick of your cunt against him, the wet noise of him fucking his own fist, the knowledge that you were so close, using him to get yourself off while that pretty little head dreamt about all sorts of perverse things.

too much. too much. he’s gonna-!

he comes with a particularly deep grind of your twitching pussy gliding against his now glistening scales. he clasped a trembling hand over his mouth, willing himself quieter as dragon fangs catch against his palm, feeling himself finally come undone. he basks in the sensation of you humping so diligently against his most vulnerable area as he spills his thick load all over himself.

he panted, tremors still finding their way through his body as he lay spent, thighs and stomach covered in his seed.

he gasped, moaning and twitching in the aftermath.

yet you still continued.

fuck. fuck. archons, you weren’t stopping-!

you kept on grinding onto his newly overstimmed tail, letting out those sweet little whimpers, chasing that high while zhongli has to sit and bear this whole lewd scene as he writhed and panted against you.

this was going to be a long night. . .