#shut up lapis

[peachie5000]

okay so the news about the series possibly having a future is huge but I also do really need to emphasize queerplatonic/aroace lapidot real

[qwq14]

things you should never say to someone who just came out:genshin dragons edition

[celticcatgirl2]

“We’re irritating 🤪”

[minijenn]

Anyway...

[vaonri]

well. i’m officially back into SU

[techie-waterwitch]

"Oh yeah. I've been kicked out of any place halfway decent because I'm Really BAAAD!"

"Give up the tough gem act Pal!"

[sonasnowdrop]

*Lapis and Zaza are making a Meep Morp out of mud and dirt.*

Peridot: “…That’s just mud and dirt…right?”

Lapis: *shrugs* “I dunno.”

Peridot: “Lapis—“

Zaza: “Relax, Dotty! We got it from the dirt pile.”

Peridot: “we don’t have a dirt pile, Zaza.”

Lapis and Zaza:

Peridot: “WE DONT HAVE A DIRT PILE.”

[acatandamouse]

So, ages ago, I took a class in Diplomacy in the Ancient Near East, and when one king would send a letter/caravan/tribute/demands/whatever to another king, they would always start off (and I paraphrase, but not by much):

To my brother Blah blah blah, king of Blah Blah, greetings! Your brother Blah Blah sends greetings! As a greeting gift, I send you ...

And there would always be "X pieces of Lapis Lazuli" in that list, sometimes only lapis.

So to this day, when I say "hi" to someone I haven't seen in a while, my brain goes "Greetings! As a gift I send you Pieces of Lapis Lazuli..."

Then I spent some time in St Petersburg in Russia and saw an altar wall for a church that was a giant slab of lapis. Oi! Impressive, tho:)

[dragon-ascent]

Rex Lapis used to meditate in peace. Used to.

Now that you’re here with him, you do everything in your power to make sure he gets zero peace up here in the mountains, getting his daily penance in. Why have peace when you can have fun?

It starts simple, with you gently carding your fingers through his long, silky hair. He sits, cross-legged, thumb and index fingers curled in meditative mudra. His eyes are closed, shutting out the mortal realm (and you) entirely.

But knock, knock, here you come. Gently, you tug on his hair. Not enough for it to cause discomfort, but just enough for it to be felt.

Nothing happens. The god carries on meditating.

You huff, but then run your fingers down his warm, toned arms, down the gilded veins…and begin to tickle him. “Try this on for size!”

Again, nothing. It’s like tickling a rock, the way his still stature and even breathing keep up like normal. It’s like he can’t even feel it.

You try tickling his torso. Nope. His neck. Nada. Even his feet…not even a ghost of a reaction.

He must be laughing internally at your pathetic attempts right now. You sigh and lean close to him.

“Thighs that can tempt the heavens,” you whisper into his ear. “Juicy thunder thighs. They make you want to go nom, nom, nom. I gots ‘em for you, big boy.”

His eyelids twitch, but he continues to maintain his zen.

Alright, switch tactics. “Wriggly, wriggly sea creatures…squirmy, slimy, gooey…tentacles everywhere… slimy slimy icky icky…”

“Darling,” he warns, but still doesn’t open his eyes, his lips parted halfway through a chant lost to the wind.

Egged on by this, you add, “Icky slimy gooey sea creatures! Squids and octopi wriggling all around you, coming for that lovely face of yours!”

Unfortunately, he’s regained his composure, once again having lulled himself into zen.

Defeat almost scoops you up in the tranquil that follows, but then you grin again, eyes sparkling with rekindled mischief. “Oh wowie! Isn’t that the Hydro Dragon from Fontaine? He looks sooooo handsome!”

That gets him to open his shimmering golden eyes and glance around at the serene nothingness, before fixing you with an intense look that promises he shall deal with your antics in a way you would do well to remember.

[celticcatgirl2]

“Give us your lunch money bitch!!!”

[f0ofishies]

You were just a nice addition to the company's financial team. Either you were hired because of your pretty looks, or maybe you're just pleasing to the eyes. Now Giyuu Tomioka was having a hard time– that pretty face of yours was just so distracting to him. He was the finance leader, getting promoted just recently. . .

. . .But you were as dumb as can be. How? You were terrible at statistics. Seriously, why did the boss even hire you in the first place? That's why the team made you some free use. When someone needs some coffee? You'd be there in a jiffy with their preferred creamer or sugar or plain old black. Maybe, when they needed something to be copied over by the machine? You'd be in the copy room for hours to help with that.

The only one who never regarded you was the leader, Giyuu. He had a problem with you or something? You couldn't tell at all, you pursued your lips shut. He was explaining some new project the team was assigned. Honestly, the information went from one ear and out the other.

Your eyes looked up wide as giyuu's thumb slid against your lips. "Naughty baby.." Letting out a small grunt that escaped your lips, you unsubconciously nestled between his legs. "Giyuu– stop teasing.." You let out that whine. Back at the meeting room, but doors locked, everybody had left it left only you two in the tense atmosphere. He'd only ever notice you when he wanted to fuck.

"Eh? But you weren't even listening to my instructions, were you?" You shaked your head as you leaned your head out. "–I did, giyuu.." He harshly tilted your chin further. "Then tell me, why are you grinding me like a degenerate whore right now?" That was not a lie, you'd been quivering– your hole spasming at the slightest touch of that blucher shoes of his. The heel stimulates your drenched undies, so good you held back a moan.

"Mmm, can't help myself when I'm with you.." You reasoned, trying to get on his good side. The one that fucks you slowly and lovingly like you were so fragile to him, you would break in an instant. No. . no, he was looking at you with desire those lapis blue eyes staring down at you– you could literally climax in an instant.

"A fuckin' slut. . .recount what I just said, hm?" His voice went on a lower octave, fuckfuckfuck. You were going to lose it, "Yes well–" another subtle grind from you to his shoes. "You instructed us to calculate the sum of—" Your breath hitched as he had wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing lightly. "Dumb.. dumb bunny, that isn't even correct.."

"What?" Then you felt it another squeeze— you'd be gasping for air right now, but the lightheaded as you were. You'd let out a hard breath, blinking. Giyuu was never this rough, not that you don't want.. no, you want it— it was just weird. "Get your fucking ass on the desk now."

Your tears were nonstop at this point, crying at this point. He'd been edging for how long? Fuck, it didn't matter anymore. The spanks, slaps, and spewing insults didn't matter. You needed his dick now. . ! Even with the way his spit rolled down on your sensitive nub without his fingers, there's no way you'd even fit half of it in.

"Shitt— it's not gonna fit if you don't relax..!" You really did try, but he was penetrating so rough– the pain and pleasure letting out your high-pitched moans bouncing the meeting room. He grabbed your face and then stared, both of you sharing a moment of bliss from his roughness. "Sweetheart, you gotta relax.. just spread your legs better.. 'Kay?"

"Hold your legs—agh.. fuckk you're tight just like last night?"

[ramlightly]

For all of Lapis' tricks and powers, there's an easy way to shut him up

[himasgod]

King Deshret x Reader IV part I

Where Deshret finds out that you are marrying Morax, and goes to great lengths to get to the location and beg for your forgiveness.

(PART IV DONE. I've decided to split this request in two, since I wanted to make it quite long and doing it in one post would be quite long. This part is about Deshret finding out that you're going to marry Morax and the next one, which I'll post in a few hours, will deal directly with the wedding and Deshret interrupting it. Thanks to sailorstar as always and, of course, enjoy <3)

XVII.

The nights in the desert had always been his refuge, a kingdom of endless stars above a sea of ​​golden dunes that only he could rule. The silence, once so comforting, now weighed on his shoulders like a blanket of ice. King Deshret returned to the palace after half a year away, the promise of returning to you still fresh in his mind. He had set out in the hope of bringing you an era of splendor, with Nabu Malikata at his side. But in his obsession with dreams of greatness, he had let himself be carried away by the intoxicating sweetness of the Goddess of Flowers.

When his sandals echoed in the halls, there was no welcome. He did not find you waiting for him with a frown or words of reproach for his prolonged absence. Instead, he was greeted by a desolate palace, as cold as a tomb. The servants avoided his gaze, bowing their heads in silence. Was there something they were not telling him? An inexplicable uneasiness began to stir in his chest.

“Where is the queen?” he asked in a grave voice to one of his oldest servants, whose face was marked by uncertainty.

“Your Majesty… the queen has departed.” The man hesitated, swallowing before adding, “You will find a letter in her chambers.”

The words fell like stones into a bottomless pit. Deshret felt his heart race as he walked through the halls with increasingly hurried steps, almost tripping in his haste to reach the room they once shared. The door, normally ajar to allow the light of the rising sun, was now shut tight. He pushed it hard, almost ripping it off its hinges.

There, in the vastness of the bed he had shared with you, lay a single scroll. Deshret approached slowly, as if the simple act of touching it could trigger a catastrophe. His hands, which had not trembled even in the face of the most fearsome armies, now trembled as he unrolled the letter.

“To King Deshret, who was once my husband: I hereby dissolve our marriage. I am no longer the queen who swore to remain at your side in the eternal dunes. I am leaving, for the fidelity I promised cannot be sustained in the emptiness of a love that has withered.”

The words were sharp, written with the precision of a knife. Each sentence was a reminder of what he had lost in seeking the company of another, of what he had let crumble in his pursuit of power and fleeting pleasures. This was not just a piece of paper; it was the end of an oath he had taken for eternal.

But it was the last line that broke what little remained of his temper:

“I return to my home in Liyue, where the vows I gave you will be extinguished like the embers of a fire that no longer burns. This time, there will be no turning back.”

XVIII.

The weight of your words echoed in his mind as he stood there in the dimness of your empty chambers. You had been so much more than a wife to him: you were the legendary Phoenix Princess, Liyue’s most precious jewel, the daughter of the Phoenix Queen. You had given up your golden destiny alongside Rex Lapis, you had abandoned the fertile valleys of your homeland to accompany the king of a kingdom of sand. And he, blinded by the promise of power alongside Nabu Malikata, had let the glow of that sacrifice fade.

When he was finally able to move, Deshret summoned his advisors, demanding answers. But all he received were evasive glances and empty answers. You had left with a small entourage, taking only what was yours, rejecting all the luxuries he had arranged for your comfort. Your decision had been final, unwavering.

Deshret felt an unparalleled emptiness devour him from within. The great king who had defied the gods was now nothing more than a broken man, a prisoner in his own palace. For the first time in centuries, King Deshret understood what it meant to truly lose. Not by war, not by the betrayal of allies, but by the foolishness of his own heart.

XIX.

A week later, Rukkhadevata arrived at the palace with news he did not wish to hear. She stood before him, compassion veiling her emerald eyes.

“Deshret,” she said softly, “I come with news from Liyue.”

“Speak, Rukkhadevata.” His voice was barely a whisper, as if the mere act of speaking words exhausted him.

Dendro Archon took a deep breath. “Rex Lapis has sent invitations to all the Archons. He is announcing his marriage with the the Phoenix Princess.”

His blood froze in his veins. He felt the world crumble around him, as if the palace walls were about to collapse on him.

“Marriage…?” he repeated in a murmur, unable to process what he heard.

Rukkhadevata nodded regretfully. “She has returned home, Deshret. She has found in Morax the love and stability that you denied her.”

XX.

The days that followed were a whirlwind of anguish. While Nabu Malikata spoke excitedly of the lavish ceremony Liyue was preparing, he could barely hear her. Her words were like a distant echo, lost in the storm of his mind.

He couldn’t bear it. The image of you beside another man, smiling as you once did just for him, consumed him. Morax… his rival, his opposite in so many ways, was taking away what he had cast aside.

“I must see her once more,” he decided, his pride crushed under the weight of his despair. He turned to Rukkhadevata with a plea he never thought he would make.

“Take me to Liyue, I beg you. Let me see her, even one last time. Let me beg her to reconsider, to forgive me… before it’s too late.”

Rukkhadevata watched him, pain in her eyes. She knew it wouldn’t be easy. He knew you had closed your heart forever. But after a long, tense silence, he nodded.

“I will take you, Deshret. But you must prepare for what you will find. It may already be too late. Sometimes, even for the gods, second chances do not exist."

XXI.

And so, the once invincible King Deshret, who defied the gods and dreamed of conquering the heavens, found himself in the position of a broken man, a king who had lost everything because of his own blindness. Now, he was not heading into a battle to win a kingdom, but into a fight for a heart that no longer belonged to him.

As the desert dunes fell behind him and the green valleys of Liyue rose before him, he knew he was facing his final battle. But this time, the price of failure would not be a crown, but the love he himself let slip away.

He was willing to stop that wedding. He was willing to get you back. Even if it cost him his life.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[brighttears]

Pheromones

Joel Miller x f!reader

No physical description other than having hair and female sex organs, no use of y/n

Summary: while searching through a mall with Tess, Joel, Tommy, and the couple others in your small group, you and Tess find a makeup store and decide to have some fun. It drives Joel crazy and you find out that he has just as big of a crush on you as you do on him. You sort it out in a furniture store. (Takes place pre-Boston)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: smut (minors dni), unprotected PiV, rough sex, Joel has a big ol wiener, public sex, hair pulling, creampie, Joel calls you a slut (with permission), dirty talk, pet names (baby, babygirl, pretty girl, sweetheart)

A/n: here’s another one from the drafts and some nastiness for the folks at home before I disappear for like a week bein busy 

—

“Ok, I’m warning you right now, Joel is going to fucking love this.” Tess tells you as she sweeps her finger over your eyelid with a very sparkly shadow called ‘lazy lapis’. You sit crossed legged in front of her next to a dirty floor length mirror, a collection of various makeup supplies spread between you.  

You giggle nervously, trying very hard to sound unbothered or confused or indifferent or something, “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about Joel,” she smiles, “you’re gonna drive him fuckin’ nuts with this.”

“Pff—what do you mean? Why?” You laugh too hard.

“Oh, you don’t have to lie to me. I can tell, and it’s the most entertaining shit I’ve seen in awhile so I’m encouraging you, actually.” She moves your head in her hands, pulling your other eyelid closed to brush on more sparkly blue.

You chuckle and nudge a question further, “Why is it gonna drive him crazy?”

“Because he’s a man, and he already thinks you’re hot, and I doubt he’s seen anyone done up like this in fuckin’ years. You really don’t have to do much at all to get him all hot and bothered. I’m surprised I haven’t caught him drooling already. Now, with the skirt and the shaved legs? Sister, he is done for.”

“Shut up.” You chuckle.  

“I’m right, and I can still tell you’re red under all that blush.”

“Fuck off!” You giggle, swatting her hands away, “Ok, that’s enough, your turn.”

“Fine, fine.” Tess smiles, handing you the palette, dropping her hands in her lap and closing her eyes for you with one more chuckle. 

You consider the sparkly palette and dip into ‘mossy mess’ to stroke gently over Tess’s lids. 

“So, you trying to make anyone ‘hot and bothered’?” You ask her.

“No one in particular. If the right one comes–a–knockin’, though…” You both laugh. “You’re lucky you’ve got one, though.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, one locked and loaded. Not trying to sound flippant, I just mean—and you can deny it all you want, and I know you’re both still just kickin’ rocks, but he’s got you and you’ve got him. That’s a special thing. It’s not just fucking.”

You hold her chin, tilting to assure it’s mostly even. “We’re not fucking.”

“Not yet you’re not.” She smiles. 

You remain quiet as you even out the eyeshadow on either side, glad that her eyes are closed so she can’t see how red you are. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no, no, you’re fine, Tess. Here, look,” you take your hands away from her face and turn her to the mirror. While she turns her head left and right, examining herself, you comment, “Green is totally your color.” and smile. She returns a light one, then goes back to staring at herself. Finally, you ask softly, “…You ok?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just, haven’t… seen myself in makeup in a long time.” She chuckles, but you can see melancholy behind it in her eyes. She flattens strips of hair over her shoulders and down her chest.

“You look really beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She replies softly, then blinks, clears her throat, and turns to you with a smile. “Alright, where’s the lipstick?” 

Allowing back some childish fun, you both giggle, debating shades, laughing at their names, and making fun of each other. You settle on a pink lipgloss for her and she talks you into a blood red matte. The finishing touch is struggling to pencil on eyeliner and applying mascara. 

When you’re both all done, Tess whistles and you’re stuck on your reflection. It is a bit startling, firstly because of the bright colors Tess has picked out for you, and because of how much it changes your look. She shifts behind you and lays her head on your shoulder so that your faces are side by side. For a moment you just gawk at each other, then laugh. 

It’s a bit of a shock for both of you. One aspect is the experience itself, being ‘girlfriends’, playing with makeup, talking about boys, and feeling pretty. Your mind isn’t sure what to do with it—savor it, try to isolate it, forget what waits outside, or grieve for what’s already inside with you, what you can’t escape, no matter how much you pretend. 

Tess decides for you, sighing, “You know, I really, really missed this.”

You hum. “I never saw myself ever doing this at all.” You add, “But I’m really glad I’m doing it with you.”

She smiles brightly at you in the mirror. “Me too, kid.”

“Kid?” You turn to her with a smirk.

“You know I’m never gonna stop calling you that.” Tess slaps your shoulder after she pushes herself up from it. “Come on, we gotta get back. They’ll be sending out a search party any second.”

—

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Tommy announces your presence as you and Tess show yourselves back in the food court, getting the attention of the other three scattered around. Joel stands frozen facing you until Clancy throws a spoon at him, which then pings on the floor followed by Clancy’s laugh. Joel turns his head to him with a completely blank expression, except for his slack jaw, which remains down when he looks back at you. Tess elbows you, you shove her back, glancing at him a couple times before sitting down with Tess at a table across from Tommy and setting your packs down, the other seat filled by Neveah with signature lightning speed. 

“Was wonderin’ what was takin’ you two so long.” Tommy remarks, smirking. 

“You didn’t come and get me?” Nevaeh pouts dramatically. 

“We brought some things for you!” You assure her, and Tess sets on the table the paper bag you loaded up for her, which Nevaeh squeals over as she unpacks.

“Could you not make that fucking sound?” Clancy scolds, making Nevaeh’s smile fade and she hunches over a little, sticking her tongue out and making a face at the table instead of him. 

“Hey, could you suck my fucking dick, maybe?” Tess calls at him, humor absent on her face. She’s pretty much the only person he’s afraid of, and therefore pretty much the only one he’ll take seriously when she takes that tone. 

Refering to your perfume, he calls back, “You fucking stink, by the way.” 

“Smell way fuckin’ better than you.” Tess returns. 

He gives her a face but shuts up, turning back to digging through the ruins of an Auntie Ann’s. Tommy snickers. 

“You find anything good?” Tess asks him.

“I did not, but Joel found a furniture store.” “What’d you find in there?”

“Haven’t checked it out yet, wanted to touch base with you two first.”

“Well I wanna sit down, how about you go sweep it with him?” Tess looks at you. You stare at her, she stares unrelentingly back, smiling, “Come on, he’s not that bad.” You stomp on her foot, she cackles, and when you look at Joel he’s staring right back at you, looking like a deer in the headlights. Refusing isn’t really an option, because for one, it’ll look weirder to everyone else than if you just go, and you don’t want to hurt Joel’s feelings either. You do work well together, plus you’re friends, you like spending time with him, and… well, yeah, you kind of hope Tess is right about this ‘driving him fucking nuts’. You offer him a small smile and get up. 

“Go on, Joel, don’t leave the little lady hangin’.” Tommy says to him, Joel shoots him a look, and he cackles just like Tess had to you.

“It’s a big place,” Joel says as he joins you, “it might take a minute. But if we’re not back in an hour, start worryin’.” He calls over his shoulder as he starts out of the food court. 

“Alright, just scream if you find anything weird.” Clancy jokes. 

“Will do.” You salute him, turning on your heel to follow Joel. 

—

It’s silent for a few minutes before you break it to ask, “Are we almost there?”

“Uh, yeah, just around this corner here.”

“Pretty far.”

“Yeah.”

There’s only your footsteps until you’re at the wide glass doors, shattered along with the rest of the panels fronting the shop. 

You take your gun and flashlight from your pockets, crossing them over each other as he does and follow him in. 

The store is quite big, but wider rather than deep, with a separate room connected by a large open doorway. It doesn't take long to clear the first half due to it being one big open room, so all you have to do is walk around the perimeter, easily able to see over mostly tables, chairs, and couches, assisted by clear lighting coming through the open front windows. Joel glances back at you as you step into the next room, which is darker, the front windows covered by hanging racks of colorful, patterned rugs. Your heart rate increases as you flip through the racks, but there’s nothing hiding between them. The rest of the room is also relatively easy to run through though, being mostly beds. Once all cleared, you both take a deep breath and sit down on one of the large beds in the back corner, down the hall from the open doorway. The give from the bed surprises you and you let yourself sink in. 

“Wow.” You chuckle, looking at Joel.

“This must be one of those orthopedic mattresses,” he comments, lips curled. 

“If I laid down on this I would be asleep in fucking minutes, I guarantee it.”

You both chuckle, and then feel yourselves realize at the same time that you are currently sitting on a bed together, alone. You look down at your bare knees, pressed together, but don’t move. 

“So you did your makeup.” He says.

“Yeah, with Tess.” You look up at him and smile, then decide to add, “Do you like it?”

Joel’s eyes linger for a few seconds and then fall to his feet. “Yeah, I do. Been a long time… since I’ve seen uh… a woman in makeup.”

“Been a long time since I’ve been in it.” You stand then, making him look back up at you, and hold your arms out, “Do you like my outfit, too?” Underneath your normal jacket is a new shirt, actually your size rather than scrounged from other people’s belongings, and below it is a short skirt. You took an actual pair of pants, too, but just for fun, you decided to try this out, even if just for a few hours; and, when you picked it out, you did have him on your mind, just a little bit.

Joel looks you over, throat bobbing as he swallows, “Yeah, yeah,” he swallows again and looks down, “I–I do.” His smirk is shy when he looks back up at you, “Makes me feel like a man.” 

“You are a man.” 

“Well I know, but it just… y’know, you look like… a woman. Not to say you don’t usually, I mean, well, you look… desirable—shit, that sounds bad. You always look desirable, I just mean, uhm,” Joel clears his throat, panic visible in his eyes, and you can’t hold back the smile growing on your lips. Tess was right. “I’m not tryna—I mean, I just, fuck, I’m tryna say you look really good. And you know, there’s not a lot of… mainstream, uh, girly stuff left, and it just looks really good on you.”

“Why does that make you feel like a man?”

“Eh, uh, b–because… I guess what fits better is that you make me wanna be a man. More of a man.”

“What’s being more of a man?”

Joel is completely lost in how to respond. No way can he get away with being as crass as you’re kind of asking him to be. Nothing he thinks of trying to say sounds right, either patronizing you, accidentally insulting you, being mean, or lying. 

You take a huge risk, based on your trust in Tess, and he watches you with wide eyes as you walk over, bending his head up when you’re over him, and removing his hands from his lap when you sit down on it. You wrap an arm over his shoulders. Moving fluidly and automatically, one of Joel’s hands goes to your lower back, the other smoothing over the end of one of your legs, down your knee, resting at the top of your shin.

“You shave your legs?” He asks, soft but audibly astonished. Round brown eyes look up at you and you allow your free hand to rest over his chest. 

“Mh–hm.” You nod. 

His eyes flutter. 

“You wanna fuck me, Joel?”

He swallows. At this point, you’re sure you’re right, you just don’t know if you can actually ask him, like that, like this, now. He blinks. Out of embarrassment, your face heats and your heart begins to race. You nervously pull the fabric on his shoulder into a fists and then smooth it back out, looking for every clue you can in how his face moves. 

“Yes.” He finally admits, mostly plain, a little nervous. Then, he swallows again, and looks into your eyes while he moves his hand back up your leg, over your thigh, slowly into your skirt. Your lips part as his fingers graze over the very top of your thigh. He slows more as he lays his hand flat, then inches it down to inbetween your legs. You open them up, but he pulls them apart himself further to slide his hand down over your front, thumb resting on the top of one of your thighs while the rest of his digits pet over your pussy. A breathy moan escapes you and he breathes deeply out through his nose. His eyes flick to your lips and you lean down slowly to meet his. The softness of the kiss doesn’t last long, and while one of your hands grips his hair, moving your mouth into his, the other is tugging at the collar of his shirt. 

The heat is on, and Joel moves quick, pulling his arm around your back to maneuver you onto the bed, leaning over you to keep his tongue in your mouth, one hand on the bed and the other back down under your skirt. You grasp the front of his shirt in both fists as if to secure his position and eagerly link to his mouth, concern over the lipstick a ghost of a thought, that of the others out there not much more of one. Fuck all of that, you don’t even care if they hear you.

Joel removes his hand from you and you whimper, but they go to your hands on his shirt and you let him take them to instead intertwine with his and press into the bed. 

“Fuck,” he breathes outs, hot into your mouth, “baby,” you whine at the nickname, biting his lip to pull his mouth back in. He has to pull away to get a chance to speak, both breathing hard, your hands trapped against the bed. Joel’s eyes wander down to your chest as it rises and falls, then back up, pausing at your lips, then up to your eyes. “Goddamn, baby girl, look at’chou.” You whine and chuckle and his teeth flash. “You want me to fuck you?”

“Yeah,”

“Shit,” he takes a long breath out and hums, looking over you again. He pauses over you, then leans down for a softer, sensual kiss. The end is drawn out, neither of you able to take your lips away, until he raises up again, freeing your hands, but then comes back down, using his arm on the bed once again to hover over you while his other hand slides over your face. His expression alone has you soaking wet, you’ve been dreaming of something like this for months, pretty much ever since you met him, and finally, here it is, literally on top of you. His mouth is smeared with red and you can’t help but chuckle. 

“What?” He asks, breathing a chuckle with his eyes stuck on your lips. 

“You look good in lipstick.”

“Shit, it’s all over me, isn’t it?” You nod and giggle. “Well I’ll deal with that later.” He leans down to your lips again, his hand smoothing up and down your leg. The heat between you is electrifying, snaking tongues and bodies rolling to meet each other. Inside your chest, rising high and dipping low, is its own event, hot, heart rapid, butterflies and all. It reaches down between your legs, too—quivering, throbbing, a needy sensation. Joel does something to your body that you don’t even consciously understand. All you know is he’s not touching enough of you, so you pull your legs in to draw him closer. He follows your lead and lets his groin press against yours, hand feeling over your inner thigh, so sensitive, his touch the only one you want there, you’d trust there. 

He pulls his face away then, looking over your face as he slides his hand up to your chest, kneading your breast, then comes up under your shirt, twisting your nipple in between his fingers. You let out a shaky breath, watching him watch you with his jaw slack. 

“Joel,” you whine quietly, unsure of what you’re begging for, just more.

“Mmm, you need me to fuck?” He growls into your mouth. 

“Fuck, yes,”

“I’ll give you what you need babygirl, don’t’chou worry.” Joel smirks, eyes fixed on yours as he takes the hand from your chest down to undo his belt in one swift motion. He quickly undoes his jeans and pushes them down enough to free his cock, as large as you expected, hard and colored by veins. Joel pumps it slowly, his hips rolling into his own hands. “Shit, you’ve got me fuckin’ going. Need you so bad, baby girl.”

You furrow your brow at him; you couldn't help this pleading expression if you tried. You’ve had sex, even good sex, during the apocalypse, but never has someone taken much actual time for foreplay. And, you’ve never had sex with someone you’re this attracted to, nope, not by far. 

“Joel, fuck me,” you whine quietly. 

With a growl, Joel stands on his calves, keeping one hand up your shirt and the other still on his manhood, then shifts his hand up to work at removing your jacket and shirt. While you take it off yourself, in the brief moments where it blocks your vision, you feel Joel pulling at your skirt and panties at the same time, and when you can see again as you toss your clothes off the side of the bed, it’s at the perfect moment—Joel is pulling his t-shirt up over his head, his arms stretched up showing off the muscles as they shift with his movements, the roundness of his belly, and his pants already down with his hard length almost touching his belly. He doesn’t bother moving his jeans down anymore, just grabbing your thighs to tug you closer to him, then hooks an arm under one of your legs to hold up. His free hand slithers over you, feeling your hips, belly, around your waist, over your breasts, up to your face. His thumb pulls at your lip, trailing red down your chin. 

“You wearin’ all this to get me goin’, huh? All that perfume. God damn been so long since I’ve seen a woman so prettied up like this. You’re gorgeous, you know that? Lookin’ like a fuckin’ pornstar.” Joel leans down, forcing your leg further up under his arm, and drags heavy lips over yours. When he pulls away your lipstick is streaked all over his mouth and you laugh breathily. 

Joel smirks, then drawls,“Pretty girl.” As he speaks, his hand slides back down your body to back between your legs, making you gasp.

“Sooooo fuckin’ wet for me. Can I call you a slut, sweetheart?” He quickly checks in, you laugh and nod. “Yeah, you know you are.” While his thumb circles your clit he eases a finger inside of you. Your head leans back and you moan out because Joel’s finger is inside of you. That’s his trigger finger, too. “Yeeeah, I know, baby. You need a big man to make you feel good, don’t’chou baby? Huh?” He curls his finger and you gasp deeply, rolling back until your back arches, eyes closed, overwhelmed with pleasure. He hasn’t even done much, but your want for him makes every move more sensitive. “God fuckin’ damn it, that’s right baby. That’s right.” Joel removes his finger and you lay back flat to watch him dramatically lick your juices off of it, briefly closing his eyes as he does. Then, he shifts his hips closer, “Imma give you what you want now, babygirl, what you need, my big fat cock inside you, my pretty little fuckin’ slut.” And he does, taking himself in his hand to slowly glide into you, all the way in, and as you whine a moan he sucks in a breath. Once inside, he starts to very slowly pull in and out, only by an inch at most first. His fingers dig into your thigh that he holds against his hip. His other arm, hooked under your leg, angles to raise it up straight, sliding his hand up so that he can kiss your ankle as he moves, pulling farther out for longer strokes in. Joel fills you completely, just on the verge of pain, but the foreplayed paid off, as does the level of attraction you feel for him, widening you up for him, ready, wanting, carnal. 

You’re noisy as he speeds up, hitting your head back on the bed repeatedly and grasping at the sheets. 

“Joel you’re so big,” 

“I know I am, and I know you love it. Yeah, you need a real man to show you how it’s done. You did yourself up just so I’d fuck you didn’t you? Huh?” He emphasizes his question with a jolt, hitting against your limit. 

Head back and arms spread, you answer, “Yes, yes, Joel, harder like that,” 

“Mmm. Yeah?” Brutally, he obliges, and slips directly into your A spot, his length able to easily hit that area near your cervix. You react loudly and throw an arm down, reaching generally towards him. “You were lookin’ for a big man to fuck you good, that’s what you need. You need this,” Joel bucks into your harder, firmly hitting that spot inside of you that twists a snake of pleasure up through your whole body, making your chest feel full and you relax your legs, letting them fall open farther for him, overwhelmed with need for him. The only thought in your head is—

“Joel, yes, more, god, please, fuck,”

“Tell me you’re my little slut, my pretty little slut.”

“I’m your pretty little slut, fuck, uh-huh,” you whine out a high “yeah,” 

As he lowers his grip to your hip, your leg falls back over his hooked arm, and he copies the position with his other. Your legs bump against his arms as he slaps against you, his hair bouncing with the force of it, and to the beat of skin against skin are your moans and his grunts, growls, moans, and voice, telling you things like “Pretty woman needs a real man to fuck her” “All prettied up just for me” “That feel good?” “I fill you up so good?” and you accompany with a chorus of “Fuck” “Oh my god” “Yes” “So good” “I need you so bad” “Fuck me fuck me”

“Oh, fuck,” Joel’s voice shakes and he removes one of his hands under you, “Can I pull your hair baby?”

“Yes,”

One hand still holding your hip for him, his other holding a bundle of hair down into the bed, you get a full show of his mouth, forming O’s, licking and biting his lips, his eyes intermittently squeezes shut, rolling up, his head leaning back then returning to you, to watch himself slam into you, watching your chest bounce, on your lips, back in your eyes. 

“My beautiful lady, all made up for me to fuck, baby can I cum in you?”

“Yeah,” you moan out.

“Yeah, you’re made for me to cum in. You made up just for me to cum in, ah, fuck,” Joel’s head flips back and when it returns he removes his arm from under your thigh, pressing deeper into you to make up for the grip, then held in place by his body on yours as he drops down. One arm falls to support his hovering, forearm on the bed, so that he can rub his other hand over your face. He drags his thumb out from your eyelid, pulling both the color and mascara, making your eyes water, “Pretty woman, waitin’ for your man,” his fingers drag down to your open mouth, then gently squeezes your cheeks and swipes his thumb over your bottom lip, “to fuck you good. Only a man can fuck a woman this good. Isn’t that right?”

“Uh–huh,”

Joel hums, then, more devouring your mouth rather than kissing you, nipping at your lips, swirling his tongue, dragging his wet mouth around yours. 

The bed is shaking wildly now as he bucks his hips against yours, deep, hard, and fast, in the most erotic fashion you’ve ever experienced—not the jackhammer, copying porn kind, but a genuinely lustful force, still directly in the spot that derives a satisfaction that pulls your legs around him, holding him in place as you draw closer to your climax.

This movement makes Joel almost chuckle, and he fucks even more impassioned. The forearm on the bed lifts for his hand to find yours, intertwining your fingers to hold down on the bed. He keeps his other hand on your face, cupping your cheek. “You need me, you need me, tell me you need me baby,” you can tell Joel is nearing the edge by the way his tone heightens. 

“I need you, I need you, I need you,” you obey truthfully. 

“My god, can’t believe I get to fuck you like this, I get to cum inside you, cause I’m your man, you’re my woman, and I make you feel good,” Joel punctuates perfectly with one hard, deep thrust that finally takes you out. Your free hand awkwardly grabs at his wrist near your face as you torso rolls off the bed, as high as it can with his body pressing you down. Your legs squeeze around him and then release to open as wide as they can, and all you can think about is how much you need him to keep fucking you, how much you want him to cum inside of you, and you remember how much he’ll want to hear it, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming you make me feel so good please cum inside me I want you to cum inside my pussy, ahh, mmm, show me I’m yours Joel, fuck me like I’m yours,”

“Oooohh, baby,” Joel drawls, your mouths lazily and helplessly dragging over each others as Joel bounces you up and down underneath him, “I’m gonna cum,”

You reach your free hand up to grip his hair and tell him, “Finish inside me Joel I need your cum in my pussy, my pussy just for you, I’m yours, fuck your cum into me, fuck me til you can’t anymore, I wanna take all of it, I wanna make you feel good, I wanna make my man feel good, let me make you feel good Joel,”

He goes silent for one moment and then his whole body rocks into you, face messily pressed on yours, both of you releasing open mouthed moans, which he grunts through with his last final bucks, stroking out his ropes of cum. He slows, but stays inside you, fully riding his orgasm out, basically slurping your lips. You lay nearly limp under him, still grasping his hand, then moving your other over his cheek, watching his expression as he finishes. 

After a few more moments, he finally slides out of you and then sits back up on his calves to hike his jeans back up. When he’s covered, both hands come back down to smooth back and forth your thighs, shamelessly staring at your still open pussy. 

“Guess it doesn’t matter if we make a mess on this bed.” You chuckle, and he smiles up at you, teeth parted with a tug on one side of his lips. He shifts back up to over you to kiss you again with a long, soft moan, then sits back up, pulling your panties and skirt back up with one hand to then gracefully lift you back up to straddle his lap. His arm wraps around your waist with one over your cheek, and your hands come to rest on his bare chest, bare belly’s on each others. 

He strokes his thumb over your cheek. “I fucked you’re makeup up, sorry.” He mumbles, smiling. 

“It’s alright, it was just for you, anyways.”

“Really?” Joel smirks shyly. 

“Kinda, yeah,” you smile back. 

“Lucky me.”

You chuckle, reaching your hand up to swipe your fingers over his lips. “We gotta remember to take yours off, too.”

Joel closes his eyes and chuckles, “Shit, yeah we do.”

You hum a chuckle back, watching your fingers. How long you’ve been wanting to be able to touch him like this, be this close to him. 

“This took too goddamn long.” He mumbles, and you blush at his thoughts matching yours. 

“Sure did.” Then, you swallow, smile fading. 

“What is it, baby?”

You look down but keep your hand on his face, savoring the touch. “I guess I should have said this before, but, I don’t want this to be… like… I don’t want to just be your fuck buddy.” 

“Oh, no, no,” Joel quickly answers, “I don’t want that either. I really like you.” 

You look back up at him and he swallows hard under your gaze. A relieved smile slowly spreads over your lips and you slide your hand to the back of his neck, looping a finger in his hair. “I really like you, too.” You chuckle then, “I feel like a teenager.”

Joel grows his own smile, “Me too.” 

You kiss him again then, gentle and slow. When you pull back, he hums with a slanted smile, eyes half lidded. 

“We should probably get back.” You whisper. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Joel sighs, then lets you out his grasp. 

You slide down and get off the bed to stand, looking around you, “Shit, how am I gonna get this off?” You wipe your hands over your face, only really dragging the makeup around. 

Joel slips off the bed to stand, searching around with you before reaching around to grab the corner of the sheet. “Here,” he pulls it up to begin stroking it over your face. His brow is slightly pinched as he goes, methodically removing your makeup for you. Then he stands back some and sighs, “Good ‘nough.”

“Your turn,” you take the sheet from him and wipe at his mouth. The lipstick is more resistant, but the remaining saliva helps to get off as much as you can, though the act itself is a bit distracting. 

“Alright, that’s the best I can do.” You look back up to his eyes and stop in his dreamy gaze. 

“You’re blushing.” He whispers with a slight smirk. 

“You’re dreamy.” You admit freely. 

“Dreamy?” He smirks further. 

Sheepishly, you say, “Yeah,” but your shyness is relieved when his lips meet yours again. You drop the sheet to smooth your hands over his still unclothed shoulders and Joel rests his hands on your hips. 

He pulls away then, keeping hold of your body, “Alright, we really should get going.” You nod, sighing, then let go for him to grab his shirt and jacket to pull back on while you do the same. 

You watch each other as you adjust yourselves, and then Joel leans in, pulling your cheek for a quick kiss. He keeps his hand there when he whispers, “You’re so damn beautiful.” You feel your cheeks warm again. Then he steps back with a slanted smile, “Gotta admit, that's the best sex I’ve had in years.”

“God, me too.” You both chuckle, then he reaches over to take your hip and turn you back to walk down to the door next to him. 

“Alright, let’s go before they come lookin’.”

—

“Hey! You wiped off all my hard work!” Tess calls out as you approach. She, Tommy, Nevaeh, and Clancy are now all gathered at a table, talking and laughing while Nevaeh sorts through her pile of makeup.

“Ah, it just got annoying.” You lie with a nervous smile and tug at the hem of your skirt, “I’m just not used to it. It feels, like, heavy, you know? So I just took it off.”

“Mmm.” she nods, completely unconvinced. 

“So, all clear?” Tommy shouts over to you. 

“All clear.” Joel replies.

As you sit, you see Tess turn her attention to Joel next to you with a smirk, tapping her finger at a spot just under her lip. Joel quickly takes the hint and attempts to stealthily wipe away what must be stray lipstick. Tess shakes her head, trying to hide her laughter, and you focus down on the table, amused but embarrassed and a bit nervous of who else may have noticed. Being the good friend that she is, Tess speaks up, loudly beginning an unrelated conversation. Soon, you feel safe enough to look back up and join the conversation. Under the table, Joel sneaks a quick squeeze of your knee and then you lean it into his. He turns to you, smirk visible in his eyes as he looks up and down your face, and then turns back to the conversation, pressing the side of his legs against yours. 

“You know, I like it in here.” Nevaeh comments, swiping colors over her wrist. 

“We could always stay here for a night or two, there's that furniture store, beds in there right?” Tommy turns to you to ask. 

You and Joel both freeze. You’re tempted to lie, but Joel clears his throat and speaks before you do. “Uh yeah, but they’re all pretty dirty.”

“Are they now?” Tess raises her eyebrows with a smirk and you try not to smile back, widening your eyes and shooting her a look.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re been sittin’ in there for fuckin’ years.” Joel recovers. 

“Fair enough,” Tess says, pointedly not looking at either of you, “Plus, who knows who's done what on those? Fucking golden opportunity for anyone who’s even thought about fucking whoever they’ve come in this place with.” 

“Gross!” Nevaeh screws her face up at her.

“She’s not wrong.” Clancy says, leaning back in his chair. You catch him glancing at her next to him and laugh. “What?” He demands defensively. 

You shake your head, still chuckling, “Nothing.”

“Well, there’s always couches, right?” Tommy asks, looking at Joel.

“Plenty a’ couches.” He assures him, nodding.

“There we are then. We’ll stay the night at least.” Tommy decides and you all nod in agreement.

When you turn to Joel he gives you a knowing look, eyes widened with a slight smirk, and squeezes your knee under the table. You slide your hand down over his and he slips in into his, intertwining your fingers. You remind yourself to thank Tess later.

[pensive-peach]

Satoru absolutely adores spoiling you. He utterly loves how you pretty eyes light up, and you get all bubbly and sparkly when you open up one of his many gifts—which happens weekly, almost daily. Whether it's a plushie, a pretty dress that hugs your curves and makes your ass look even more delicious or anything that catches your attention whenever the two of you go out, he spoils you with a devotion only a goddess would deserve.

"Anything for my baby."

Satoru loves spoiling you but most of all he loves fucking you, praising you for being such a good angel. He moans as his mouth latches to your throbbing pussy, his warm tongue and hot breath sending pulses of pure pleasure though your body, and he can't stop himself from looking at you—eyes rolled, mouth forming a small "o", tears prickling at your eyes. He desperately laps up every drop of your sweet juices, giving attention to your swollen clit as he draws circles with his thumb, his other hand playing with your tits, lightly pinching your nipples between his fingers. He fucking loves your every reaction, he loves how you quiver under his touch, how you moan his name like a sweet, sweet, lullaby.

"That's it angel, you are so good—mmhn, so fucking good to me."

Satoru doesn't really shut up, even during sex, he wants to praise you every second, he wants to ravish you. And when he finally gets to feel your throbbing pussy clenching around his cock, oh fuck, he would pound you endlessly just the feel the warmth of you.

"Fuuuck, angel, you━ ah fuck, you feel too fucking good."

Satoru pounds into you like his life depends on it, balls deep, slapping against you. Your hands find his back, leaving traces of your nails, the ecstasy and pleasure clouding your mind. He wants to fuck you dumb, you are so pretty it makes him want to ruin you. One hand placed on your tummy, his grin grows wider as he pounds relentlessly, seeing the size of him inside of you.

"You are so fucking pretty baby, mmnn fuck–my pretty angel."

Sinful, unheavenly squelches fill the room as the both of you reach your high, his lips crashing onto yours as he mumbles profanities in a pussy-drunken state. Thrusts getting slower, his cock hits your cervix with much more strength before releasing stripes of warm cum inside of you, filling you up. By now, you are a babbling mess, vision blurry, nails almost digging into the skin of his back.

Satoru's lips brush against your forehead, lapis-lazuli eyes softening at the sight of you.

"Just tell me what you want, baby. I'll give you the fucking world."

©pensive-peach

[lvmimis]

“You’ve aged, Morax.”

Zhongli bristles at your words, or perhaps his old name, for a moment, if only a small imperceptible increased tensing to his already stony posture, and you correct yourself.

“I should say Zhongli. I’m sorry.”

You can’t tell if he’s upset now for a few more moments, and something in your belly stirs in apprehension, but he laughs at your poor attempt for a joke, then relaxes his posture finally; you let out a careful sigh and sink to the ground, pulling your knees closer to your chest as you sit, thankful for the slit in your Liyue-issue silk, a welcome change from the ankara cotton you’re used to.

“You don’t look old,” you add for good measure, and he turns to you and smiles.

“I disagree,” he pauses, ruminating over six thousand years in a mere matter of moments. “Admittedly, I would love for it to show more… I do appreciate the ability of humans to grow old, even if they eventually return to dust.”

He shifts his weight from one foot to another, arms uncrossing so that his hands rest in loosely held fists behind his back.

“Gods and humans alike, even if we often claim to share so little with humans.”

A cool breeze cuts through suddenly, blowing in the foot wide space between the two of you as you stand together in the Guili Plains. The mention of dust has you bristling this time in turn, without the stoicism of your companion to carefully mask it. 

Thousands of years ago, his friend died here, dissipating as the finest of dust particles, carried away by the wind. Years pass, and time may heal all wounds, but untreated wounds also fester painfully.

You will never understand what it meant to share in that sort of communion. Not with him. Your understanding of Morax, Rex Lapis, Zhongli is different, having met while pleading for amnesty from as many gods as possible throughout Teyvat in order to protect your people. Morax had appeared surprised by how far you traveled, and how bold (perhaps stupid) you were to request a truce but had chosen to understand your desperation, he’d seen enough of it before, and when tragedy tore through every land, he hadn’t forgotten his promise. Morax then had promised to protect you, offering more than a simple request for nonviolence, and you remained thankful for it, your lands in Natlan untouched with a strong ally, and your friendship had begun ever since, through letters and long-spaced visits.

There’s a clear gradient of power between you that has slowly eroded with friendly affection over time, but at this point, you visit and spend time with each other, but you are not sure where you stand.

Perhaps never as ideological equals, not like the members of the Guili Assembly.

And yet, you appreciate the time spent with him right now. 

Zhongli finally takes a seat as well among the grasses, close to you. The glaze lilies still sway with the wind, their buds closed shut in the sunlight, preferring to bloom under moonlight and shadow. Humble without lacking beauty or the ability to inspire awe.

Like Guizhong. Like Zhongli. 

“Thank you for coming to see me,” he offers.

You don’t turn to look at him immediately because your heart is warmed more than what is imparted by Liyue’s setting sun shining upon you. From your vantage point are acres of sloping hills of green, orange and gold, elegant rock formations bordering graceful seas, and refined architecture. 

The people are kind and welcoming, happy much like your own.

“Thank you for having me again after all these years. Liyue is beautiful,” you praise, and you mean it. You turn to him, grinning. 

“Your people are lively; the lands are prosperous. They should be happy to have you as their god.”

Zhongli chuckles to himself. 

“I think they thrive despite me, and I’m very thankful for it.”

You tilt your head at him to mock his humility, but his smile disarms you. Still, you insist:

“Even if you give up your Gnosis, you’re still you.”

Zhongli turns his body towards you - your hands graze past each other and you quickly pull back, hoping he cannot tell that your heart has skipped a beat. 

You are a minor - rather, lesser - god, and you should be thankful you are even friends, that he is willing to entertain you despite all this time. 

Do not ask for more, you remind yourself again.

“And what am I exactly?”

His eyebrow is raised and there’s a sparkle of mischief in the way he looks at you.

“Zhongli, not Morax. Not one of the Seven, but a consultant of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor.”

“Exactly.”

Zhongli rises again and reaches out a gloved hand for you to help you up. You take it, patting grass off of your dress, realizing he hasn’t let go even though you are both standing.

He doesn’t let go even as he takes the first step and you wonder if he’s forgotten himself. 

“The Yun-Han Opera Troupe is performing tonight. We should hurry back so you can see what else Liyue has to offer.”

He pauses, still holding your hand as you keep up, then smiles at you.

“I hope I can keep you just as enamored…” 

There’s a deliberate pause as if he is distracted, and he clears his throat quickly then continues, “... with this beautiful place during this visit.”

“Of course,” you reply, nodding quickly, following his lead.

And your heart skips a beat, and you wonder if he knows.

But just this, being together with him despite the millenia, is enough - after all, you are the goddess of compromise and second chances.