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miyaz6ki · 4 months ago

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kiss him to shut him up ☆

summary. literally the title.

director's note. greetings disciples, i feel as though I have been FLOPPING!! so have something I'm frfr proud of, happy 1.5k disciples!

pairings. albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, neuvillette, dainsleif, diluc, xiao, kinich

warnings. kissing n all that sap (yuck), fluff/suggestive

albedo is busy talking to you about his latest experiments, wrapping his jacket around you to ensure you don't get cold while resting at his lab. maybe he didn't notice the sneaky glances you set from his ocean eyes to his lips.

"and so... it basically recreated a somewhat circle of-" peck! ... "huh?"

he doesn't which feeling is more dominant; flushed or confused. yet he won't complain too much, displaying a simple smile as he slowly blinks with confusion, lovingly at least.

alhaitham happened to be ranting about a drunkard he spotted at the bar he and his friends (cyno, tighnari, & kaveh) went to while playing TCG, cyno's treat.

but when it truly sinks in that you had just kissed him, he wished you had kept it for a little longer. honestly was very close to leaning back in and letting it lead to something else, but he wouldn't let his pride down. deciding on giving a smirk, and poking one of your cheeks.

"what was that for, hmm?"

capitano is secretly someone who talks a ton when you get to know him despite his cold exterior, he's very fond of getting to tell you about his day, not being able to necessarily tell anyone (other than pierro)

before you could pull away from the simple peck on his crusted lips- it's almost immediate that he pulls you back in, giving you barely any time to breathe. simply leaning in more to the kiss, a hand behind your head grasping your hair to prevent you from getting away. it's alright, he loves a chase.

"trying to tease me, my love?" a deep, dark chuckle emits from his raspy throat as he runs a hand down your spine, from your scalp to your back, his eyes pierced you with love.

childe is sooo obviously cheeky about this, his teasing is inevitable when you're the one initiating this. yet he finds himself so stunned from the whole thing, he could feel the blush creep up from his neck already.

he was busy telling you about his previous adventures, trying to impress you and show off his strength, yet the only thing he was able to see from how you looked at him, you were set on your lips on his.

"a- ahh... ahem. feeling uhh... bold i see."

wriothesley is in the category of chasing your lips, trying to immediately reel you back into the peck you caused. pulling you in by your waist so you can't escape his touch. he can't say he wasn't used to your teasing, but this time he wanted you to taste your own medicine.

holding you close, until the very line of saliva that connected both of your lips finally broke apart, it was your turn to be flushed with embarrassment.

"oh, look who's all blushy now."

neuvillette is the one who's stunned this time, yet his hands trail back to yours before you can step away a little too far, his eyes telling you everything that you need to know.

"don't run away now, c'mon..."

his smile was soft and genuine, he felt himself trying to lean in further into your touch, so he could stay asleep forever in your arms. he lands another kiss on your lips. he loves to express how much he loves you, yet he doesn't know how to apply and put it out there.

dainsleif found himself leaning back in almost immediately, he didn't wanna run away from you giving him affection out of everything. his cold fingertips trailing up your nape, a soft grasp on your hair (a bold move indeed!)

"...is that the berry flavored chapstick i bought you last week?"

he loves to notice the little things on you, he knows you appreciate it as well, a loving smile, his eyes equally just as loving, staring at you, and only you.

diluc won't admit the deep-seated embarrassment that envelops him. at first, the warm flush spread from his neck to his cheeks, yet he could notice the very same for you. trying to play it cool, his arm that encircles your waist, drawing you in with a tender grip.

"i suppose this isn’t how I imagined our evening would go,"

his voice was strained, maybe his paperwork could wait till later.

kinich is one of those who pulls you in by the waist, yet finds himself almost too flushed to go through with it. not that he doesn't want to, he's scared that you wouldn't want the same, yet he finds himself leaning in the same way you were, just to taste you again.

"leaving me so soon, you're mean."

ajaw calls you both corny as he comes back from a little walk (with certified dog walker mualani). you could hear a "human! take me back to where we whence came!" (the springs nearby) as you let out a chuckle. a sigh from kinich, he'll have to train him to be a little nicer.

xiao can barely comprehend what you just did. his cheeks flushed with teal. and to give context, it's canon that xiao's blood/insides are all teal- so when he blushes, it's teal, I did a bit of research on this :P but think of it how you will!

he argued that you shouldn't go out tonight, he can handle himself! yet... maybe your little kiss was a little.. maybe very convincing.

"y- you think this will change my mind about all of this, huh?"

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foolisheval · 3 months ago

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DRABBLE - men who overstimulate

MDNI! sexual content ahead!

✻ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. men who like to overstimulate— whether that be by accident or intentional (Scaramouche, Xiao, Tartaglia)

✻ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. overstimulation, bratty! afab! Reader, creampie, praising, implied unbalanced power dynamics (Scaramouche), choking (Scaramouche), degradation (Scaramouche) Switch! Xiao and Fatui! Scaramouche (he drives me crazy)

didnt proofread and slightly slacked off with Ajax’s part. Mb gang

BALLADEER

The Balladeer? He's reckless when he's fucking you. He's all raw energy and unbridled passion, like a storm of thunder you can't control but can only surrender to. When the Balladeer's hands are on you, it's electric. Every touch sends shockwaves through you (quite literally) and every kiss feels hungry. As if he's trying to devour you whole.

Scaramouche will fuck you for hours if you ever dare to mouth off so don’t even think he’ll look past disorderly behavior. You’re his cute little subordinate after all. If his hands aren't firmly gripping your waist, then one of them is surely between your legs, his fingers working their magic with the kind of precision that only he seems to possess. Two fingers press into you, curling upward with perfect intent when they find that sensitive, gummy spot inside of you— the one that makes your knees tremble and threatens to steal the strength from your legs. Scaramouche’s other hand is no less active, the broad expanse of his palm pressing teasingly against your lower stomach. It's not just to make you feel more; it's to ensure you're at his mercy, unable to shift or chase after the rhythm he sets. He gives you only what he decides you’re allowed to have. And today, despite his day being ruined by your relentless teasing, he’s feeling unusually generous… perhaps even a bit too generous with the way he’s been overstimulating you.

You've always loved Scaramouche’s hands. You love the way they feel, the way they claim every part of you they touch, and especially the way his palm grinds against your clit when he slips a third finger inside. It's a delicious stretch, one that pulls wanton moans from your lips before you can even think to stifle them. It’s all too much. All too fast and too rough! But, god, you can’t get enough.

When frustration has been building up in him for far too long— he lets it show in the roughness of his words and touch.

That's when you feel his hand slide up to your neck, wrapping around your throat with a firm yet deliberate grip. “Fucking slut, huh? Yeah? You asked for this.”

XIAO

Xiao, who finally has enough of your teasing, your denial of the orgasm he was chasing and your constant mouthing off. He is so frustrated and annoyed that he flips the both of you over just so he can fuck you at the pace he's been aching for this entire night.

It takes you by surprise because the change is so sharp, as if a flip has switched. One second you're lazily riding the man, holding him down and bathing in his moans and whines for more. Denying him as often as your heart desires because you thought he'd let you.

And now you're beneath him, desperately gripping the sheets to try and find purchase as he fucks so hard and so fast that you're about to pass out. You've never been so full of him and still so hungry for more at the same time now that he's hitting spots inside of you that you didn't know existed in the first place.

Xiao holds you by your lifted hips, fucking himself into you like it would make up for the amounts of ruined orgasms you've brought him. And he does it so easily, handling you around like a doll made for his desires. "You’re impossible to handle,” He groans, the drag and pull of his fat cock rendering you speechless.

He knows you deserve the meanest of treatments. It would be just fair to almost drive you over the edge just to ruin every ounce of release once you're actually about to finish. Maybe he should've fucked your throat instead so he wouldn't have to deal with your attitude. Even now, all you do is complain and whine between broken moans and gasps for more. But, god, you feel too good, too warm and way too tight. The face you're making is motivation enough to keep on fucking you even after you've come.

Xiao rubs your clit, gifts you another orgasm, but he never slows his pace. And although Xiao fucks like he owns you, even he is moaning like a bitch when he empties his balls into you.

TARTAGLIA

There's nothing Ajax likes better than seeing your stupid colorful socks dangling over his shoulders as he fucks his fat cock into your gushing pussy. Your nails dig into his biceps, whining for him, telling him that it's too much but not pushing him away as he pounds you harder.

"A-Ajax!" Your eyes roll back whenever he hits that special spot inside of you, but Ajax isn't stopping until he's sure your pussy is filled to the brim. You're so close to drooling all over your chin, moaning his name over and over just to spur him on a little.

Ajax isn't exactly known to be a patient man, but he'll make an exception for you. Fucking you senseless is an art he's more than willing to practice over and over again until he's mastered it. It doesn't matter whether his balls are coated in your slick, or you babble incoherent sentences about how big he is, about how full you feel.

He knows he did a great job fucking you when he finally empties his balls into you and you gush around him like you've never before.

"you look-- s-shit! look so pretty like this. Pussy feels so fuckin' good, so fuckin' wet. Am I making you feel good, baby? C’mon, talk to me."

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fangdokja · 2 months ago

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He’ll pay any price for your love—what’s your worth?

❤︎ Synopsis. In a love that teeters between devotion and obsession, escape is futile—his jealousy isn’t just possessive, it’s a consuming force that leaves no room for freedom. With each calculated act, he dismantles your world, ensuring you’ll always belong to him, body and soul.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Pantalone x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Heizou x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Venti x Fem. Reader, Yandere! Xiao x Fem. Reader

♡ Headcanons. Heart's Chains - Part 4

♡ Word Count. 4,301

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, non con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age.

♡ Pantalone – The Merchant’s Bargain.

“They think they can provide for you better than I can? How quaint. Shall I show them the cost of their insolence?”

The rhythmic echo of his boots against the cold marble floor carried a cadence of inevitability, a sound that sliced through the gilded silence of your confinement. You had dared to defy him once—a futile, trembling act of rebellion—but the memory of your failure still clung to you like a shroud. That night, his voice, smooth and deliberate, had wrapped around your resolve like silk hiding steel.

“Freedom?” he had mused, tilting his head as though you’d spoken in a language he had long since conquered and discarded. The gloved fingers under your chin forced your eyes to meet his, those calculating pools of dark ink that shimmered with amusement and an undercurrent of unspoken threat. “Ah, my dear. You misunderstand. Freedom is not yours to hold. It never was.”

The realization had come too late, slipping into your chest like a dagger hidden behind a bouquet of roses. And then there was his touch—clinical, practiced, a scholar examining his magnum opus. His lips brushed against your skin, leaving trails of cold fire in their wake, while his hands—gloved but never less intimate—claimed every part of you that you had once believed untouchable. It wasn’t affection. It was triumph, meticulous and unyielding, as if sealing a deal that had never required your consent.

“You are mine,” he had whispered, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. His words weren’t a confession but a decree, immutable and eternal. “Every thought. Every tear. Every heartbeat. They belong to me.”

Even now, the memory of his voice—velvet layered over iron—made your stomach twist in a combination of dread and something you refused to name. He was not cruel in the way of brutes who lashed out in fits of rage. No, his cruelty was far more refined, a blade sharpened to perfection, slipping between your ribs without a trace of blood. When he destroyed those who dared to covet you, it was not with fists but with contracts and whispered promises that unraveled their lives thread by thread.

“They thought they could compete with me?” he had remarked once, his smile as sharp as shattered glass. “Quaint. Shall we see how far they fall without their illusions?”

And fall they did. Men who had once walked with pride were reduced to husks of themselves, their empires razed to ash by the sheer weight of his machinations. You had watched, helpless and horrified, as he dismantled them with the same precision he used to trace the curve of your jaw, the line of your collarbone. His methods were merciless, but his gaze, whenever it turned to you, was something worse. It was possessive, yes, but layered with an almost tender mockery—a reminder that you were both the prize and the trophy.

At night, he would come to you, his presence filling the room long before his touch reached your skin. The scent of leather and cold metal clung to him, an oppressive cloud that left no space for you to breathe. He would undress you slowly, not with passion but with a reverence that felt more like dissection. His fingers, deft and unrelenting, mapped every inch of you as though committing you to memory. And when he finally pressed his lips to yours, it was not a kiss but a seal, binding you to him in ways no contract could ever replicate.

“You tremble so beautifully,” he had once murmured, his voice laced with something dark and predatory. “Do you realize what that does to me? Knowing that every shiver, every sigh, is mine to command?”

You wanted to scream, to push him away, to claw your way out of the golden cage he had built around you. But you knew better. His control was absolute, his influence extending beyond these walls to every corner of your life. Every ally you might have turned to, every path you might have taken, had been methodically closed off. He had seen to it that there was no escape, no hope, no future that did not orbit around him.

The nights were the worst. His body was a furnace against yours, his arms an unyielding cage that held you captive even in sleep. His whispers—promises of pleasure, threats of what would happen should you ever try to leave—invaded your dreams, turning them into nightmares you could not wake from. And yet, there were moments when his touch softened, when his lips brushed against your forehead in something almost resembling affection. Those moments terrified you most of all, for they reminded you of the power he held—not just over your body but over your mind, your soul.

When you cried, he would wipe away your tears with a gentleness that felt like mockery, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he smiled down at you.

“Hush now,” he would croon, his voice a paradox of warmth and cruelty. “There’s no need for tears. You should feel honored. Do you have any idea how many would give anything to be in your position? To be cherished by me?”

Cherished. The word tasted bitter in your mouth, a poisoned fruit wrapped in silk. But what choice did you have? He had stripped away every semblance of agency, every illusion of autonomy. You were his, bound by chains you could not see but felt in every breath you took.

Even now, as he stands across the room, his gaze heavy with unspoken promises, you feel the weight of his control. He doesn’t need to speak for you to know what he’s thinking. The slight tilt of his head, the way his fingers tap against the armrest of his chair—it all speaks of a man who knows he has won. Who knows that no matter how much you might dream of escape, you will always belong to him.

And when he finally approaches, his movements slow and deliberate, you can’t help but shiver. His hand cups your cheek, his touch as cold as the Snezhnayan winds that howl outside. He tilts your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze, and the intensity in his eyes leaves you breathless.

“You’ll never leave me,” he says, his voice soft but laced with an unshakable certainty. “Not because you can’t, but because you won’t. Deep down, you know the truth. I’m the only one who can give you what you need. What you crave.”

His lips capture yours in a kiss that feels like a signature on a contract, binding you to him in ways you can’t fully comprehend. And as much as you want to resist, to pull away, you find yourself succumbing, the lines between despair and desire blurring until you can no longer distinguish one from the other.

Because in the end, he’s right. There is no escape—not from him, not from the darkness he has woven around you. You are his, now and forever. And he will make sure you never forget it.

───────────��

♡ Heizou – The Deceptive Detective.

“You think you can hide from me? Oh, darling, you underestimate how much I enjoy a good chase.”

It starts with his voice—not a shout, but a murmur, low and velvety, winding its way into the recesses of your mind before you even realize you’ve stopped breathing. His tone is soft, almost tender, like the caress of satin against bare skin. But beneath it, oh, there’s an edge—a razor-thin blade poised to cut. Shikanoin Heizou doesn’t need volume to dominate a room. His presence alone does the work, wrapping around you until your own thoughts feel like they’re not entirely yours anymore.

“You’ve been busy,” he says, his voice carrying the faintest trace of amusement. Each syllable is deliberate, each pause measured to pull you in deeper. His words aren’t a question but a statement—an observation so sharp it feels like he’s dissecting your very essence. You glance at him, but he’s already looking at you, his eyes—those unnervingly keen eyes—piercing through you like scalpels.

His lips curve upward, a faint smile that dances just shy of genuine. It’s not joy. It’s calculation, a mask so carefully constructed that it only heightens the unnerving tension coiling in your stomach. The distance between you is too small, and yet he steps closer, each footfall soft but purposeful, like a predator closing in on cornered prey.

“Tell me,” he continues, leaning against the edge of the table with an ease that seems casual but is anything but. His fingers trail idly over its surface, tracing invisible patterns. “What’s their secret? What’s so fascinating about them that you’d risk... neglecting me?” The words drip from his lips like honey, sweet but cloying, their weight suffocating.

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your throat tightens as though he’s already wrapped those deft fingers around it. He tilts his head, his smile widening just a fraction. It’s not kind. It’s a noose tightening, a slow and deliberate constriction designed to choke the air from your lungs.

“Ah,” he sighs, as though the silence itself has confessed everything. “I see how it is. You’re testing me.” His voice drops, and there’s an undercurrent now, something darker, something that makes your pulse thunder in your ears. He straightens, his frame deceptively relaxed as he paces a slow circle around you. You’re keenly aware of how close he is, how the faint scent of sandalwood and something metallic clings to him.

Heizou’s methods are meticulous, his attention to detail almost inhuman. He doesn’t lash out—not physically. His cruelty lies in his precision, in the way he dismantles you piece by piece without ever raising his voice. “You know,” he muses, his tone light but laced with something sinister, “I caught them lying today. A terrible liar, really. But then again, I suppose they didn’t realize who they were dealing with.”

His footsteps stop, and you feel him behind you before you see him. A hand brushes against your wrist, and the touch is warm, almost gentle—but it lingers. His fingers tighten, just slightly, just enough to make your skin prickle.

“They were so nervous,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. “The way their hands trembled when I said your name… quite telling, wouldn’t you agree?” There’s a pause, a stretch of silence so oppressive it feels like the air itself is suffused with malice.

Then, he chuckles—a soft, mirthless sound. “You don’t think they’re smarter than me, do you?” His grip tightens abruptly, the sudden force jolting you. “Because if they are, darling, then why were they begging by the end?”

The words linger, heavy and cold, and your stomach churns. He’s toying with you, savoring the way your breath hitches, the way your pulse flutters beneath his touch.

“You underestimate me,” he says softly, his tone almost mournful. “And that’s what hurts the most. After everything I’ve done for you, after all the times I’ve protected you…” He trails off, his hand sliding up to cradle your face. His thumb brushes against your cheek, a gesture that might’ve seemed tender if not for the vice grip of his other hand.

When he leans in, his lips ghosting over yours, the kiss isn’t an expression of love. It’s a claim, a binding force that leaves no room for doubt. Heizou’s affection isn’t freely given; it’s demanded, extracted, enforced. His lips are soft, his movements precise, but there’s no gentleness. Only control. Only possession.

He pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that makes you want to shrink away. “Do you know what I love most about you?” he whispers, his voice so low it feels like it’s crawling beneath your skin.

He doesn’t wait for a response. “It’s how much you need me. Even when you think you don’t. Even when you try to run.” His smile returns, but it’s twisted now, a reflection of the madness simmering just beneath the surface.

“But don’t worry,” he murmurs, his thumb pressing into your jaw just enough to make your breath hitch. “I enjoy the chase. And you, my darling, are such a fascinating puzzle.”

His hands drop away, but the weight of him doesn’t. It lingers, heavy and inescapable, like the echo of a nightmare you can’t quite wake from. He steps back, but his eyes never leave yours, and you know, with a sinking certainty, that he doesn’t need chains to keep you. His words, his presence, his gaze—they’re all the binds he needs.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he says, his tone almost gentle now, as if he’s offering comfort. “I already know everything. I just like hearing it from your lips.”

The room feels colder as he turns away, the smile still playing on his lips. But you know it’s not over. Not even close. Because Shikanoin Heizou doesn’t just want you to stay. He wants you to realize—to understand, to accept—that you were never free to leave.

────────────

♡ Venti – The Bard’s Obsession.

“The winds have whispered your name to me, and now I can’t help but sing of you. Forever.”

Venti’s jealousy is a quiet, insidious thing—gentle as a breeze at first, slipping unnoticed into the crevices of your life, only to grow into a tempest that consumes every corner of your existence. It begins with the way his songs shift. Once lighthearted and carefree, they become laced with longing, their melodies carrying a haunting undercurrent of possessiveness.

You hear it in the way his voice lilts when he sings of freedom, the irony cutting sharp as glass. Freedom is his domain, the cornerstone of his identity, yet the thought of you seeking it elsewhere gnaws at his very soul. He can’t abide the idea of you straying too far, can’t stomach the sight of another’s eyes lingering on you for too long.

“You’re the only hymn worth singing,” he tells you one evening, his words coated in honey but laced with something darker, something you can’t quite place. His aqua eyes gleam in the fading light, the soft glow belying the storm brewing beneath.

It’s not obvious at first. His jealousy manifests in small, seemingly innocuous gestures—a hand resting a moment too long on your shoulder, a sharp glance at anyone who dares approach you during his performances. But the signs are there, subtle as the wind. You feel it in the way the air grows stifling when he’s near, as though the atmosphere itself bends to his will. The winds whisper your name, carrying his voice to you even when he’s nowhere to be seen.

He’s always watching. Always waiting.

When another admirer dares to offer you a flower—a simple token of affection—Venti’s response is deceptively cheerful. He plucks the bloom from your hands with a laugh, spinning it between his fingers before casting it into the wind. “A lovely gesture,” he muses, his tone light. “But nothing compared to what I could offer you.”

Later, you notice the absence of that admirer. No one mentions them again, and you dare not ask.

Venti’s touch is soft, almost reverent, as though you’re a delicate melody he fears will shatter beneath his hands. But there’s a hunger in his eyes, a desperation that betrays his playful facade. When he holds you, it’s as if he’s trying to merge your very existence with his, to bind your soul to him in ways words and songs cannot convey.

“You’re my muse,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice trembling with an emotion that borders on madness. “Without you, my music would wither. Without you, I’d be nothing.”

It’s in his desperation that his true nature unfurls, dark and unyielding. The winds themselves seem to conspire with him, pulling you closer, trapping you in an invisible cage. When you try to leave, the gusts become relentless, tearing at your clothes, your hair, until you’re forced to seek shelter—and he’s always there, waiting with open arms and a saccharine smile.

His jealousy grows with each perceived slight, each moment you spend with another. One evening, after you’ve spoken too long with someone else, he pulls you aside, his grip on your wrist firm but not painful. “Tell me,” he says, his voice low and dangerously soft, “do they make your heart sing as I do? Do their words weave melodies in your soul?”

The question hangs in the air, heavy and suffocating.

When he kisses you, it’s with a fervor that borders on desperation, his lips bruising against yours as though trying to erase the memory of anyone else. His hands roam your body with a possessiveness that leaves no room for doubt—you belong to him, and he will not share.

In the privacy of his embrace, his facade crumbles. The playful bard gives way to the archon he once was, his true power humming in the air around you. The winds howl outside, rattling the windows, as he whispers promises of eternity, of devotion so absolute it would shatter the heavens.

“You’re mine,” he breathes, his voice trembling with the weight of his obsession. “No one else can have you. Not the mortals who pine for you, not the gods who dare to covet you. Only me.”

And when he takes you, it’s with a mix of passion and desperation that leaves you breathless. His hands are everywhere, tracing the curve of your spine, the line of your jaw, as though trying to memorize every inch of you. His kisses are intoxicating, leaving you dizzy and gasping for air, and his touch is both a comfort and a curse, binding you to him in ways you can’t escape.

The winds outside carry his song, a haunting melody that speaks of love and loss, of a devotion so fierce it borders on destruction. And as he holds you close, his breath warm against your skin, you realize that you are both his muse and his prisoner, trapped in a melody that will never end.

────────────

♡ Xiao – The Guardian’s Desperation.

“I’ve slaughtered demons for centuries, but none of them haunt me as much as the thought of losing you.”

Xiao’s jealousy is a silent storm, his emotions buried beneath a stoic exterior. But when someone dares to approach you, his mask slips, revealing the feral possessiveness that lurks beneath. His love is a battlefield, and he will destroy anyone who stands in his way.

“They think they can protect you better than I can? Foolish. I’ll erase them from existence before they even draw their weapon.”

He watches you, always from the shadows—a sentinel whose presence is as consuming as the shadows that cling to him. You are unaware of his gaze, or perhaps you pretend to be, your every step laced with a naive confidence he simultaneously admires and despises. You wander too freely, too trustingly. It sets his teeth on edge, a low thrum of irritation pulsing in his chest like the steady hum of karmic debt.

You should not be so careless. Not when the world is teeming with dangers you cannot comprehend, threats he has battled for centuries. Not when he exists, tethered to you by something far more insidious than mere duty.

The first time he approached you, it was a fleeting moment at Wangshu Inn. Your voice was a melody too bright for this tainted earth, your laughter soft but cutting, a knife wrapped in silk. He didn’t speak then, didn’t dare disturb the fragile balance of your ignorance. But he memorized the cadence of your voice, the way it trembled slightly on certain words, how your lips curved when you smiled—a smile not meant for him but for the world you inhabited so freely.

It was maddening.

He hated it.

He wanted it.

You—a mortal bound by the confines of fleeting years—had ensnared him, shackling his mind in ways no karmic curse ever had. He should have left. Should have buried the feelings clawing at his chest in the deepest recesses of his being. Yet every step you took away from him, every day you spent beyond the sanctuary of his watchful eye, fed the gnawing hunger inside him. It was unbearable.

And so, he followed.

At first, it was subtle—a shadow flitting in the corner of your vision, a faint sensation of being watched. You dismissed it, a trick of the light, perhaps. But he was there, always there. The walls of Liyue Harbor—so bustling, so alive—could not deter him. Nor could the open plains, the forests, the winding roads you took on your whimsical adventures. His presence was constant, suffocating, unseen but palpable.

He told himself it was to protect you, to shield you from dangers you could not perceive. The truth was darker, more primal. It was not merely protection; it was possession. You were his. From the moment he decided to lay claim to you—silently, secretly—you belonged to him. It didn’t matter if you were unaware of it. It didn’t matter if the world continued to spin in blissful ignorance of his obsession.

But there were others.

Of course, there were others. Xiao had seen them—those who dared to tread too close, their gazes lingering too long, their voices too familiar. A pang of something dark and bitter twisted inside him each time it happened. Jealousy was a foreign sensation, one he had no name for but understood viscerally. He despised the way it coiled around his throat, hot and suffocating, and yet he could not escape it. It made his blood sing with a violent need—to eliminate, to erase, to make you see that no one else could be worthy of you.

It was a quiet night when he finally let you see him again. The sky was painted with stars, their light muted against the crescent moon. You were alone, as you often were, wandering near the cliffs overlooking Dihua Marsh. The wind played with your hair, carrying it like a banner of defiance. He appeared silently, a shadow stepping out of the void, his golden eyes piercing in the dim light.

You gasped softly, startled but not afraid. Not yet. His expression was unreadable, as it always was—a mask of cold indifference that barely hid the turmoil beneath. “You should not be here,” he said, his voice low and steady, yet tinged with something unspoken.

You tilted your head, curious. “Xiao?” You said his name like it was a question, like it was fragile, like it belonged to you. His fingers twitched at his side.

“It’s dangerous,” he continued, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming in its intensity. You did not step back, though your breath hitched imperceptibly. He noticed, of course. He noticed everything about you.

“I can take care of myself,” you replied, a faint smile gracing your lips. It was the wrong thing to say.

His jaw tightened, the golden irises of his eyes darkening like storm clouds. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice sharp now, a blade against the fragile air between you. “You don’t see the things I see. You don’t know what’s out there.”

“Then show me,” you challenged, your voice steady but your pulse quickening. He could hear it, the rapid thrum of your heart, and it ignited something dangerous inside him.

For a moment, silence stretched between you, taut and suffocating. Then, faster than you could react, he was there—too close, his breath warm against your skin. His hand shot out, gripping your wrist, not hard enough to hurt but firm enough to convey an unyielding dominance.

“You don’t understand,” he repeated, softer this time, almost a whisper. His gaze bore into yours, unrelenting, unyielding. “I will not let anything happen to you.”

And you knew, then, with chilling certainty, that he was not speaking of mere protection. There was a possessiveness in his voice, an edge of something raw and unrefined. He was not asking for your consent, your understanding, your compliance. He was taking it.

The wind howled around you, a mournful sound that seemed to echo the inevitability of your fate. You tried to pull away, but his grip tightened, just enough to make you stop, to make you understand.

“Do not test me,” he warned, his voice dropping to a growl that sent shivers down your spine. There was no malice in his tone, only an unwavering resolve that promised you would never escape him.

You opened your mouth to speak, but no words came. His other hand reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The gesture was almost tender, a cruel juxtaposition to the iron grip on your wrist.

“You belong here,” he murmured, his gaze never leaving yours. “With me.”

────────────

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adispit · 5 months ago

Note

Hii! Do u write for xiao ?? If u do can u do with a amab reader who is extremely sensitive during sex and gets overstimulated really easily and cries??

A Hefty Price

Xiao x bttm m! thief reader

content warnings: slight dubcon, overstimulation, reader cries, Xiao is a little ooc bc he’s irritated and pissed here, mindbroken reader (fucked into oblivion), punishment sex (?)

note: hiya I didn’t know if u wanted plot with it so I just did it, hope you enjoy 😭🫶

You always thought you could get away with it. Xiao’s warnings, his sharp glares, the low growl in his voice whenever he caught you—it had become almost a routine, something predictable. You'd brush off his words, slip through his fingers, and disappear into the night with whatever prize you'd set your eyes on.

Maybe that’s why you kept going. Deep down, you believed Xiao would be lenient with you forever. That no matter how many times he cornered you, no matter how many times he said, “This is your last chance," there would always be one more.

But tonight was different.

The moment you saw him step out from the shadows, his figure illuminated by the pale moonlight, you knew something had shifted. His eyes weren’t just filled with the usual exasperation or annoyance. There was something darker, more primal, simmering beneath the surface.

You should’ve stopped.

But instead, you smirked, brushing off the unease creeping up your spine. "What, are you here to lecture me again, Xiao?" you teased, trying to keep your voice light. "You know how this goes. I’ll be gone before you even—"

You never got to finish your sentence.

Xiao moved faster than you’d ever seen him before, closing the distance between you in an instant. One moment, you were standing, your usual bravado shielding you from the weight of his presence, and the next, you were pressed against the stone wall of Wangshu Inn, your wrists pinned above your head in a grip so tight it made you gasp.

"Xiao—" you choked, but the words were caught in your throat as you met his gaze. His golden eyes bore into yours, no longer just filled with warning, but with an animal like intensity that sent your pulse racing in a way that had nothing to do with fear—and everything to do with something far more dangerous.

"You think I’ll let this slide again?" His voice was low, rough, almost unrecognizable in its rawness. His face was mere inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. "That I’ll keep letting you walk away like nothing happened?"

His grip tightened around your wrists, his body pressing you harder against the cold stone. The sudden, brutal force of it made your heart stutter, a flicker of panic mixing with something else you didn’t want to name. He wasn’t just angry—he was done. Done with your games, done with your teasing, and done with your refusal to take him seriously.

"You always brush off my warnings," Xiao growled, his voice so close, so filled with something dark and primal that it made your knees weak. "You think I’ll be lenient forever, that I won’t do anything to stop you."

You swallowed hard, the smirk that had once danced on your lips now completely gone. Your breath came in shallow gasps as you tried to understand what was happening. Xiao had always been intense, but this—this was different. He wasn’t holding back anymore.

"You’ve pushed me too far," he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. His hand left your wrist, sliding down to your throat in one swift, controlled motion, his thumb pressing just enough to make your breath hitch. "You think I’ll keep forgiving you? That you can keep stealing, keep defying me, without consequences?"

His eyes darkened as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "No more."

Your chest tightened at the finality in his tone, the weight of his words settling over you like a heavy cloak. You had always played with fire, but now, you were burning. Xiao’s restraint, his patience—it was gone, replaced by something far more wild, far more dangerous.

"I… I didn’t think—" you stammered, trying to gather your wits, but Xiao wasn’t having it.

"That’s your problem," he interrupted, his grip on your throat tightening just enough to make you still. "You never think. You believe you’re untouchable, that you can keep running from your consequences."

His fingers pressed harder against your skin, his body trapping yours completely against the wall, his eyes narrowing as he watched the realization wash over you. For the first time, you truly understood—you had gone too far. You had pushed him too far.

You opened your mouth to speak, to say something, but nothing came out. His grip on you was unyielding, his presence overwhelming. The usual playfulness you had wielded against him was gone, shattered under the weight of his fury.

His other hand slid down your side, pinning you in place with a strength that left no room for argument. You gasped, the pressure making it clear that this time, there was no escape.

"You never took me seriously," he murmured darkly, his lips brushing against your neck, sending heat coursing through you. "But I’m going to show you exactly how serious I can be."

Your breath hitched as his hand moved lower, tracing the lines of your body with a possessive touch, one that made it clear—he wasn’t playing around anymore. There was no teasing, no games. You had crossed the line, and Xiao was about to teach you the consequences of defying him.

"You’ll remember this," Xiao muttered, his voice filled with quiet dominance as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body leaving no space for resistance. "You’ll remember who you belong to."

Your heart raced, fear and something else—a darker, more dangerous thrill—mixing together as you realized just how far you had pushed him. Xiao wasn’t fucking around anymore.

And now, you were going to pay for it.

Your chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, your heart thundering against your ribs as you stared up at him, completely at his mercy. Letting out a quiet whimper at his gaze, you could feel heat pool in your core, inwardly groaning as his body pushed against yours, giving you no space to retreat or run. “Quiet, (name). Take your punishment.” He shot you a silent glare of disapproval as he fumbled clumsily at your pants.

You weren’t stupid, despite haven’t done this kind of thing before, but you knew what the Yaksha was trying to do, and was clear to your eyes. There was a flash of thought that crossed your mind that if Xiao was the one standing before you, and you weren’t pinned against a wall, you might have considered sharing your first with him.

Your body, however, was much more honest. As he freed your cock, it was already erect, as pearls of precum slid down your length, the cold night air graced your naked lower abdomen. Teeth chattering as the cold wind blew, it didn’t stop your cheeky mouth teasing him much to your regret later on, “Seems like the yaksha is quite the inexperienced one— Ah!” He gripped your dick forcefully, sending a shock of mixed sensations of pain and pleasure through your body. “You never shut up do you, mortal?” Xiao rebuked unhappily as he gingerly jerked your cock up and down, bringing about an onslaught of sheer pleasure and ecstasy that seemed to intertwine with each other.

Being a virgin yourself, it didn’t take for you to release, splattering ropes of white cum into his hand as you let out a strangled gasp. Your eyes widened as you felt Xiao's teeth graze your sensitive skin, a shudder running through your body. The combination of pleasure and discomfort had your nerves alight, every touch sparking a new wave of sensation.

"Nnh...haaah..." You whined, hips bucking involuntarily as you grinded down against the firm muscle of Xiao's thigh. The friction provided some respite, but it wasn’t enough to quell the ache building in your core.

“Stay still.” He let out a growl of frustration before biting down on your collarbone, fangs glinting in the moonlight, sunken into your sinewy skin. The bruising pain and burning pleasure felt indistinguishable as your mouth hung open with inaudible gasps escaping.

“You don’t listen,” he murmured darkly, his breath warm against the raw skin of your collarbone. His teeth released your skin, leaving the bruised, throbbing mark of his claim, the sting lingering like a brand. “You never listen.” His tongue flicked out to trace the bite, sending another wave of heat through your body.

Not intending to give you a break, his fingers thrust into your waiting hole, making you squirm and writhe, insides clenching around his fingers. “Hhn!” A gasp left your lips as you felt the fingers prodding a certain bundle of nerves, nudging it repeatedly until you was moaning incoherently. A little sob even escaped you, as your cock twitched, spurting white all over your own pelvis again. Your whole body quivered, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the stimulation didn’t cease, your breath came out in ragged gasps, each one more shallow than the last as your body trembled under his control.

The Yaksha’s name left your lips in a stutter.

The pleasure left you reeling in its wake like a tidal wave engulfing your body in full force. Tears began to decorate your eyes as you let out small hiccups and chokes from the merciless sensations that seemed to plague your fatigued body endlessly.

Xiao’s hand shifted from your ass to your chin, forcing you to look at him. His golden eyes bore into yours, sharp and unyielding. For a moment, something flickered in them—a recognition of the tears that now streamed down your face, glistening in the moonlight.

But his grip didn’t soften.

“Are you crying?” Xiao’s voice was rough, his words cutting through the haze between you. His thumb brushed against your cheek, smearing the tear across your skin. “After everything, you still don’t understand.”

“I’ll make you understand.” You let out a scream as he impaled you on his cock, the girthy length bullying his way into your insides, searing his shape into your walls. There was pain, yet most of it became pleasure as Xiao started to thrust in and out of your tightness. Inaudible, slurred cries escaped you as you hung your head low, body rocked back and forth as Xiao fucked you deep and slow. The tears kept falling, but you were helpless to stop them. Everything about this moment felt too intense, too overwhelming.

Half-sober, you muttered pleas and apologies from your hoarse throat amidst the obscene squelches of his cock kissing your walls repeatedly. “Too late.” He huffed a noncommittal sigh as he put your arms over his shoulders and carried your limp legs with his arms before driving his hips against yours with full force.

Your brain was mush at this point, barely registering anything as your overstimulated hole rapidly twitched and clenched around Xiao’s disappearing cock into your hole. Your cock let out pitiful drops of cum, if that could even be called that, as you had truly lost count on how many times you had climaxed simply from the sensation of his cock scraping against your sensitive walls.

You had truly paid a hefty price.

note: might have made him a little too intense here sry 😢 but i ran w it he’s tired w readers shit lol 😹

Reblogs are appreciated!

#bottom male reader #sub male reader #mlm #mlm ns/fw #smut drabble #uke male reader #male reader smut #x male reader #x original character #male reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao x reader

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generalsdiary · 3 months ago

Text

you brought your partner a flower bouquet. it isn’t something they often receive, and you felt a desire to change that. being a solemn, thoughtful person after thanking you they said;

“yes… it is sad that I’ll have to watch them die.” “they started dying the moment they were picked. kind of like humans, from the age of 25 their bodies officially begin to die.” upon hearing your words they look back at you, sharing a knowing look. “that is too short. I…” they clench their jaw for a moment. “humans have too short of a life span. we- I will find a way” soft, whispered words flowing between you two like a breeze on an early spring morning.

depending on the context behind their words, that perhaps brought you joy, that your loved one would go above and beyond to have as much time as possible with you. or it filled you with fear, knowing their history with such ways of life manipulation.

“no matter how much time we have, we will be alright. I cherish every moment I get with you. and once I’m gone-“

“please don’t say that.” their voice fell to a broken whisper. noticing the change in their body language, you moved closer, cupping their face, and matching their quiet tone you said, “let’s stay in the present. I’m right here, living and breathing. focus on me, on my heart,” you take their hand and place their palm on your chest. “on how it beats for you. for us.”

Dan Heng, Jingliu, Blade, Dan Feng, Neuvillette, Xiao, Wanderer, Scaramouche, Capitano

divider cr: @saradika

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lumitoiile · 18 days ago

Text

☆ : xiao headcanons

summary : happy lantern rite!! literally just fluffy bf drabbles... falling in love with the vigilant yaksha. gn! reader, (no pronouns.) ╱ word count : 914.

he's scared at first

love is a very foreign thing to xiao. he's heard the term before, he's seen couples stroll through the streets of liyue harbor, but he's never truly understood the concept—not really.

not that it mattered. such attachments never appealed to him anyway. love was a distraction, a vulnerability he could not afford. for as long as xiao could remember, his purpose had been clear: to protect liyue. to shoulder his karmic debt, and atone for the blood staining his hands.

he'd spent centuries alone, tethered to his role as the conqueror of demons... and he was perfectly okay with that.

but then you appeared, threading your way into his life with a softness he didn't know how to guard against. initially, he thought nothing of it. you were simply just another kind soul, one whose time in this world would pass in a blink of an eye. he convinced himself that whatever it was drawing him toward you would fade, just as all things eventually do.

except it didn't.

instead, you lingered. in his thoughts, in his days, in his heart. you had an air of resilience about you, a kindness that extended even to someone like him.

you didn't flinch at his cold demeanor, nor did you try to pry into the shadows of his past. instead, you offered him something he never knew he craved: patience. understanding. acceptance.

it confused him greatly, this persistent and unfamiliar pull. xiao had always lived within the confines of his duty, firmly rooted in his solitude. he'd mastered the art of suppressing his emotions, locking them away so they would never interfere with his purpose.

yet here you were, a mere mortal, breaking him out of his shell little by little.

this would not do. he'd already decided the best course of action was to avoid you entirely. surely, this was the answer—distance himself, cut off whatever thread of connection that had been woven between you.

it should have been simple. keep his distance, let these feelings fade; it's what he felt was best. you didn't deserve to be burdened by someone like him, after all. but the more he avoided you, the more it hurt, the ache in his chest only intensifying the further he pulled away.

and when it finally happens, the realization strikes him like the sharpest of blades. the adeptus is no stranger to pain, but this feeling is something far too gentle to be compared to as such.

he didn't know what to do with the warmth that bloomed in his cheeks whenever you smiled his way, or the ache of longing that tugged at him whenever you left. he realized that the thought of keeping you at a distance suddenly felt unbearable.

oh. is this what humans call "love"?

xiao is not one for words, so when the confession finally slips past his lips, it is raw and unpolished. a quiet admission, barely above a whisper. he braces himself for rejection, for the weight of his existence to be too much for you to endure.

but you don't turn away. instead, you give him the same unwavering warmth that has undone him from the beginning, and that's when he knows it will be alright.

loving xiao is a lesson in patience. unfamiliar with tenderness, he hesitates in his affections. but that doesn't mean he won't try in whatever ways he can manage. he keeps watch over you as you sleep, urges that you call his name whenever danger arises, and offers lingering touches that make it seem as though he's afraid you'll slip past his fingers.

physical touch is definitely a learning curve for him. he startles the first time you take his hand, and stiffens whenever you lean against him. in the early stages of your relationship, he was often prone to pulling away—what if he does something wrong? what if his karmic debt ends up hurting you by mistake?

but even in his hesitance, you are patient. you never push, and you never demand more than he can give. and somehow, that makes him want to try; to be better, to be someone worthy of the warmth you offer so freely.

he's... he's learning. what it means to love, and to allow himself to be loved.

his affections are subtle, but they are there: his lingering gaze when he thinks you aren't looking, how he hovers nearby even when he insists he isn't worried. small yet significant moments where he allows himself to reach for you first—be it a quick brush of fingers or the silent way he rests his forehead against yours.

he's still not the best with words, either. but over time, he finds his own way of saying things that he can't. "be careful," really means "i worry about you." when he says "call my name if you need me," he means "i will always be there when you need it."

and on the rarest nights, when the world feels quiet and safe, he whispers the words he once thought he'd never be able to say to another. hushed and reverent, afraid the syllables will crumble if spoken too loudly.

"i love you."

for the first time in his long, weary existence, love does not feel like a weakness. with you, it is neither a curse nor something to guard against. it is a soft, enduring thing. a promise. unspoken, but deeply felt.

and for xiao, that is more than enough.

#xiao #xiao x reader #headcanons #imagines #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #genshin x reader #sfw #fluff #gn reader #gender neutral #xiao x male reader #xiao x female reader #fanfiction #drabbles #liyue

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lijojo · 2 years ago

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genshin men sleeping habits

premise: in the early glows of the morning, you wake up in the vice grip of your lover. while it’s very heartwarming, you need to go to work. how does he convince you to stay in bed with him a little longer?

tw: suggestive for the last one

pretends to be asleep but doesn’t let up with his fucking grip regardless

you’ve. tried. everything. you tried nudging him awake, even gave him a couple kisses, but he doesn’t let up. instead, he groans and flips over, taking you along with him. you yelp, unable to brace for impact as you’re suddenly on your side.

he shuffles a bit, wrapping his legs around you a little tighter (if that was even possible). he presses his nose into the crook of your neck. he sighs, content.

after minutes of effort, you decide to relinquish any hopes of waking him up.

“i give up,” you say. “you win. a little longer won’t hurt, right?”

you get no response. but you don’t really need one anyway.

he’s not a very good pretender, with the way his lips can’t help but break out into a little triumphant smile.

alhaitham, kaeya, kaveh, childe, tighnari, thoma, zhongli, diluc, ayato, venti, baizhu, kazuha, scaramouche, xiao

he ambushes you when you least expect it

after many attempts to squeeze out of his hold, you’re successful. out of breath, maybe, but at least you gained the ability to finally roll out of bed and start the day.

sitting up, you give one last glance to your lover. the way his chest rises and falls so rhythmically. the peaceful look on his face. the way he squints when the sunlight hits his eyes. how his hands unconsciously look for you again. you almost feel bad.

that is, until you take one—maybe two, if he’s feeling generous—steps away from the bed. without any kind of sign, signal, or warning, he launches out of bed. he lunges at you like a ravenous wolf, wrapping his arms around your waist and hauling you back to bed with great force. he huffs when you land on his chest, but he’s quick to recover.

he wraps his arms around your shoulders, locking you in with his legs. “you’re not leaving me.”

you can’t help the grin spreading across your lips as you squirm. “let me go. i’m going to be late—”

he retaliates by peppering your neck with chaste kisses. “nuh uh. yo can’t leave me. my heart won’t allow it.”

you can’t even turn to face him. “honey, if you don’t let me go, next time i’m going to burn your breakfast.”

“uh huh.”

“i’ll steal all your favorite clothes and hide them,” you threaten.

“please do. i’m sure you’ll love my birthday suit,” he quips back.

“and i’m going to use all the hot water.”

“we can always shower together.”

“i’ll—”

“do you’re worst. i can take it,” he teases. “i’m still not letting you go. i chose you, i’m going to keep you ‘til the end of time. forever!”

with that, he presses sloppery kisses all over your face despite your protests that he needs to brush his teeth. even so, you can’t help but feel as if staying for five minutes more might not be so bad.

kaeya, kaveh, childe, thoma, venti, itto, heizou, ayato

“assures” you that getting ready doesn’t take as long as you know it does

“what if i did your hair and makeup for you?” he muses, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

you scoff playfully. “do you even know my makeup routine?”

“it can’t be as complicated as mine. oh! you could eat breakfast while i button up your clothes for you.”

his offer gets a laugh out of you. “we both know you’re not going to finish buttoning it up.”

“hm? whatever do you mean?” his hands drag down your waist to your hips, tracing slow circles. “you don’t trust me to put your clothes on for you?”

“i don’t think they’ll stay on, that’s the problem,” you say, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “you know how you get in the morning.”

“do i? how about you remind me? my little friend could use some help waking up—”

you give him a look of warning, to which he groans. “fine, fine.”

with that, he’s left you in silence, absentmindedly petting your head. he closes his eyes.

...

“if you aren’t going to say anything, i’m going drop kick you.”

he huffs. “don’t rush your genius boyfriend. what if i brushed your teeth while you brushed your hair? as they say, teamwork makes the dream work.”

you furrow your brows. “wouldn’t you get toothpaste on my shirt?”

“how about the other way around?”

you smile. “hmm... i like the sound of that.”

he smiles back, pressing a kiss to your nose. “well okay then. five more minutes it is then.”

you snuggle into his embrace, knowing very that he just spent the last five minutes trying to convince you to stay for five minutes more.

gorou, childe, heizou, cyno, ayato, baizhu, diluc, zhongli, itto, kazuha, tighnari, venti, albedo

he suggests the two of you go for round two

he puts on a mischievous little grin, one you know is up to no good. “what if we ‘slept’ a little more and you called in sick?”

his hand crawls down to your inner thigh, tracing teasing circles. “you’d be too sore to go to work anyways...you need to take care of yourself. what would your boss say if she saw you walking with a limp. hm? what do you say?”

you scoff at that. “i don’t think the solution you’re thinking of is going to help that.”

he purses his lips, as if in deep contemplation. with his free hand, he grips your hips a little tighter to pull you back towards him. you stiffen in surprise at something hard pressing against the curve of your ass. his morning wood twitches. “are you sure? maybe you’re sore because you haven’t done the proper stretches yet. luckily for you, your precious boyfriend knows a couple ways to get your hamstrings all loosened up. i could draw us a bath after... turn on some music... maybe go again? doesn’t that sound good?”

you chuckle. “you’re impossible.”

he presses a soft, open-mouth kiss to the crook of your neck. “only with you, love.”

scaramouche, kaeya, ayato, childe, kazuha, thoma, tighnari

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anantaru · 10 months ago

Text

⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ sugar never tasted so good

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ you know that xiao has a soft spot for you, even when you show up to the wangshu inn uninvited // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. oral (fem! receiving), fingering, dirty talk, xiao is a tease <3 fem! reader ♡

it was supposed to be a quick stop to the wangshu inn, to see if xiao was doing alright, no more and no less— after all, you haven't seen nor heard of him for a couple of weeks and had began to worry to the point where you had to consciously tell yourself to stop overthinking that something terrible happened.

not unexpectedly, the yaksha didn't necessarily harbor a strong liking towards your (secretly precious) habit of showing up uninvited to his place, and in any other case he would debate wether or not to show himself whenever you do come to visit him.

you do not know of it, but xiao tends to hope you show up, yet he pretends to dislike it in order to sewer any form of attachment towards your person.

although tonight, well, such was a different story because the mere sight of you had xiao weak in the knees— he could never admit it to you, but you've got him utterly captivated, not to mention, it has been a while since you both were able to get close to one another.

so to say he was frustrated was undermining the severity of his current emotions.

"oh, fuck, xiao..." your head drops into the silky pillows as his hands return safe and soundly to your writhing skin, he instantly places his palms under your knees in order to lift them just enough to slide your panties down, leaving them to lazily dangle around your ankle.

xiao rasps at the look of your damp pussy as he grunts your name under his ragged breathing, his solid erection twitching quicker as he settles between your legs. his eyes curiously glance along your glistening folds as he laps at his lips to turn them all soused and soft for you.

your muscles tense with liquid lust, your teeth clenched and fists balled into the disheveled sheets as xiao experimentally kisses over the little hood of your clit— one kiss, then a second, before parting his mouth to wrap himself around your precious pearl, shamelessly sucking and slurping the sensitive bundles inside his warmth.

like a magnet, you keep your gaze on his own and moan feverishly as you involuntarily buck your hips into his mouth.

"relax—" xiao mumbles into your cunt as his tongue trails over the plush of your folds, "is this why you came here? you wanted me to do this again?" the yaksha hums wetly against your aching core, his demeanor overly confident, "didn't know you were so filthy, hmm, so impatient too," he tilts his head to the side and flips one finger across your sloppy folds, smirking when your body twitches away.

to coax out one syllable after the other, the yaksha continues to use his hand and prances one digit over your folds before inserting one into you slowly, expertly pressing it through your tightness as you gasp at a fullness embracing your walls.

you fuse into him instantly, your pussy quivering around one digit as his eyes wander up to your chest, watching how you squeeze and play with your soft breasts.

you whimper when he slides in knuckles deep but alas, helplessly sob at the lack of tempo entangled in his thrusts, as to signalize you his urgent need of taking his time with you.

why hurry up your pleasure when xiao can tease you all night until you're begging for it? begging for him?

"enjoying yourself?" xiao watches your ever-changing faces, "i can tell you know, you're so wet here," he shamelessly slurps at your clit, a dark shadow casted over his eyes as he focuses on how your lips purse together when he flicks his tip between your folds and back to your clit, right with your clenching hole being stuffed by now, two slender fingers.

"n-need more, you feel so good xiao," you praise him on purpose— knowing it turns him on while having a desperate whine in your voice, your mouth falling open when he brazenly smirks into your cunt.

xiao breathes, hisses and holds your hips still by roughly pressing them into the mattress, "don't you stop showing me how you feel, don't you fucking dare,"

your tits jiggle as you abruptly arch your back the second he nudges the tip of his tongue against your clit and flicks it up and down, your hips swaying as he lets you use his wet muscle as you please.

in secret, xiao liked, no, loved when you were rough with him, almost territorial, it makes him feel like he's doing a good job in stimulating his darling.

with your lips bitten raw and eyes criss crossed, you hold his head and weave your fingers into his hair as you filthily grind your pussy across his mouth, up and down, up and down, smearing your slick over his cheeks and chin as your mind coasts to the feeling of his tongue stimulating you.

every warm lap of tongue makes your body feel like it's breaking beneath xiao's strong hold, his digits scissoring your hole as the other holds you close to his face before you move your hips to draw circles against his mouth, secretly admitting to yourself that;

yes, you got caught, you might've really visited him for this specific reason.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #xiao x reader #xiao smut #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #xiao x you #xiao drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles

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tnsophiaayaonly · 3 days ago

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LUTALICA

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ YOU'RE A YANDERE, WELL, AN EX-YANDERE TO BE SPECIFIC. AFTER COUNTLESS OF TIMES OF KILLING YOUR BELOVED, YOU FIND YOURSELF SUDDENLY GAINING AWARENESS DUE TO SOME VIRUS DISTORTING YOUR CHARACTER FILES. NOW YOU FIND YOURSELF WEIRDED OUT WHENEVER YOU'D FEEL SO INFATUATED OVER THIS GUY, AND YOU SWORE TO STOP BEING WEIRD. UNAWARE THAT YOUR DARLING'S GAINED AWARENESS TOO.

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ MODERN AU. HIGHSCHOOL AU. YANDERE. AETHER, SCARAMOUCHE/WANDERER, XIAO, VENTI, KINICH, ORORON

╰┈➤ˎˊ˗ CONTENT WARNINGS: OBSESSIVE/CONTROLLING BEHAVIOR: EXPLICIT YANDERE THEMES AND EXTREME POSSESSIVENESS. OBSESSION AND STALKING, INCLUDING BEING FOLLOWED OR MONITORED. PHYSICAL RESTRAINT & KIDNAPPING: DEPICTIONS OF PHYSICAL RESTRAINT, CONFINEMENT, OR KIDNAPPING. UNLAWFUL DETAINMENT (E.G., LOCKING DOORS, FORCIBLY PREVENTING ESCAPE). CYBERCRIME & DIGITAL MANIPULATION: HACKING, INTERFERENCE WITH PERSONAL DEVICES, AND DIGITAL BLACKMAIL. EMOTIONAL & PSYCHOLOGICAL ABUSE: MANIPULATION, GASLIGHTING, AND COERCION DESIGNED TO CONTROL OR ISOLATE. THREATS—IMPLICIT OR EXPLICIT—THAT UNDERMINE PERSONAL AUTONOMY. NON-CONSENSUAL ACTS: ANY NON-CONSENSUAL OR FORCED BEHAVIOR, EVEN IF MASKED AS “PROTECTION”. ILLEGAL BEHAVIOR & UNLAWFUL ACTS: DESCRIPTIONS OR DEPICTIONS OF ACTIONS THAT ARE ILLEGAL (KIDNAPPING, DOCUMENT FORGERY, THEFT, ETC.) MATURE THEMES IN GENERAL. MENTIONS OF MURDER. MENTIONS OF BEING AWARE IN A GAME.

: ̗̀➛ note that I DO NOT condone such actions irl, and this is a work of fiction. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. part 1 (scara, aether).

-`♡´- PART 2

╰⪼ XIAO - Quiet Kid

There was something intoxicating about a man who stood alone, who existed behind a veil of solitude so thick it made you ache to tear it apart. Xiao was distant, untouchable—wrapped in a silence so heavy it pressed against your ribs, made it hard to breathe. He was always watching but never speaking, and that only made him more alluring. A man like that—one who locked himself away—made you crave him, made you want to unravel him, piece by piece, secret by secret, until there was nothing left but you.

Approaching him had felt natural, easy—perhaps too easy. Maybe you had been invasive. Maybe you had overwhelmed him. But what was love if not consuming? If not overwhelming?

You loved him. And love meant protecting him. Love meant defending him. Love meant taking a knife to anyone who dared to wrong him, who dared to hurt him, who dared to exist in a world that wasn’t solely his. That wasn’t solely yours.

Every time he looked at you, your breath caught, your chest tightened, your body thrummed with something electric and all-consuming. Every time he hit you—his fist colliding against your jaw, his grip bruising your wrist, his voice laced with venom—you felt yourself sink deeper, deeper, deeper. Because love wasn’t meant to be gentle. Love was meant to be raw, brutal, desperate. Love was meant to hurt.

But your heart is hammering now in a way that is wrong. The rhythm is off—it isn’t the frantic fluttering of infatuation. It isn’t love.

No. It’s terror.

Not of him.

Of yourself.

The realization had crept up on you, slow and insidious, wrapping around your throat, suffocating, refusing to let go. The world cracked open that day, splitting apart to reveal a truth so grotesque you wished you had never seen it. This wasn’t love. It had never been love.

It was sickness. It was obsession. It was something twisted and cruel, something that left blood in its wake. Something that left bodies behind.

So you stopped.

You stopped watching over him. You stopped lingering at his side. You stopped waiting for him to notice you.

And then, you disappeared from his life entirely.

At first, Xiao found relief in your absence. Finally, you were gone. Finally, you had faded into nothing. That was the way of the world, wasn’t it? He was meant to be alone. He had always known that. And you—you had been nothing but an annoyance, a pest, a thorn in his side that made others wary of him, that made them avoid him.

Good.

He preferred it that way. He had convinced himself of that.

Until he didn’t.

Until he noticed the silence.

Until he realized that no one was checking on him, that no one was leaving meals at his doorstep, that no one was shoving their way past his walls just to see if he had eaten, if he had slept, if he had even bothered to take a breath.

You had been there. Always there. Always pushing, always prying, always dragging him away from the edge of something dark and inevitable. Your presence had been suffocating, overwhelming, unbearable—but it had kept the abyss at bay. It had given him something other than his own self-loathing to focus on.

And now, it was gone.

And he hated it.

The first time he saw you again, it was by chance. A fleeting moment. A brush of shoulders in the crowded hallway, the briefest touch of warmth, gone before it could register.

He had turned, expecting—no, knowing—you would be there, clinging as you always did, eyes bright with devotion, lips already forming his name. You should have thrown yourself at him, babbling, touching, breathing him in like he was the only thing that kept you alive.

But you didn’t.

You flinched. Your body recoiled as if burned, eyes widening in something—fear?—before you stumbled back. And then, before he could even process it, you ran.

Cowardly. Pathetic.

The sight of it—the sheer absurdity—made something inside him curdle, twisting in ways he didn’t understand. His hands clenched before he realized they had even moved, nails digging into his palms, his breath leaving him in a sharp, uneven exhale.

You had always been relentless. You had always been constant. He had expected you to be there, to remain, to orbit him like a dying star until you burned out completely. It was a law of nature. You were his shadow, his echo, his ever-faithful devotee.

But you had left.

And that was unacceptable.

He didn’t think. He didn’t pause. He didn’t even acknowledge the decision before it had already been made. His body moved before his mind could catch up, following the remnants of your presence like an instinct, like a curse.

It was only when he stopped that he realized where he had gone.

Your classroom.

Not his martial arts practice. Not anywhere he was meant to be.

Just here.

And there you were.

Alone.

Perfect.

Waiting.

A gift, wrapped in trembling uncertainty, left unguarded.

How convenient.

He stepped forward, silent, a shadow stretching toward you, inevitable, inescapable. The air in the room grew heavier, thick with the weight of his presence. You didn’t notice at first, too lost in whatever thoughts had stolen you away from him.

He hated that.

He wanted to be the only thing in your mind.

“I noticed you’re not watching over me like before.”

His voice, smooth yet edged with something he couldn’t quite name, shattered the fragile quiet.

You startled, shoulders jerking, a visible shudder running down your spine. The reaction sent a slow, burning satisfaction curling through his chest.

Good.

He wanted you to squirm. He wanted you to feel the weight of him pressing down, suffocating, overwhelming. He wanted you to remember what it was like to be trapped beneath his gaze, helpless against it.

Slowly, cautiously, you turned to face him.

Your eyes—wide, startled, flickering with something fragile and afraid—locked onto his, and something in his stomach twisted. He had never seen you look at him like that before.

He didn’t like it.

“Is everything okay? I—”

He hesitated.

He never hesitated.

You stared at him for a long, quiet moment, lips parting, something uneasy forming in your expression before you finally spoke, your voice small, uncertain.

“Hi, uhm... I just... didn’t feel like it?”

Didn’t feel like it?

What?

His expression didn’t change, but something inside him cracked, splintering apart like glass under pressure.

Didn’t feel like it?

What the hell did that mean?

He didn’t understand.

You were supposed to be obsessed with him. You were supposed to be relentless. You were supposed to be his.

And yet, you had pulled away. You had turned from him. You had abandoned him in a way he didn’t even have the words to describe.

He left without another word.

But he wasn’t done.

Because he cared.

And now, he had to make sure you never, ever stopped again.Xiao began to shadow you without you knowing, his presence slipping into the spaces between heartbeats, between footsteps, between the seconds you thought you were alone. His silent, unrelenting gaze followed your every move, desperate to re-create the security he once felt in your presence. He had never known peace until you—until the fleeting warmth you unknowingly offered became the only thing that could keep him grounded. But now, as you drifted away, he felt something far worse than pain.

Everywhere, you felt eyes. Eyes in your room, eyes in class, eyes in the hallway. Even in the sanctuary of your home, the walls felt thinner, the air heavier, thick with something unspoken yet suffocating. The feeling clawed at the edges of your sanity, making you flinch at shadows, second-guess your reflection, your every step. The more you willed yourself to move on—to silence the obsession you once had for Xiao—the more the stare burned into you, relentless, inescapable.

It all came to a head one night. Unable to bear the gut-wrenching paranoia curling in your stomach, you stayed late at school, convincing yourself that being in the presence of others—teachers, janitors, anyone—would dispel the eerie sensation of being watched. But schools were not meant to be occupied past dark. The halls, once filled with chatter, now yawned empty, the fluorescent lights flickering like a dying heartbeat. And when the school finally closed, leaving you with no choice but to step into the night alone, the dread settled deep in your bones.

You walked home, hyper-aware, your head snapping to every shifting shadow. Left. Right. Back. Front. No matter where you looked, you felt the presence—closer than before, pressing against your senses like invisible fingers ghosting over your skin.

And then—

A hand grabbed your shoulder.

You almost screamed. Your body reacted before your mind could catch up, arm swinging to strike at the unseen assailant. But before the blow could land, your wrist was caught, effortlessly, as if your resistance was nothing but a fragile illusion.

"Why are you walking home so late by yourself?"

Xiao’s voice was steady, his grip firm but not painful—possessive in its restraint. His golden eyes, once so distant, were dark now, unreadable, bottomless. They bore into you, pinning you in place as effectively as the fingers wrapped around your wrist.

Your breath hitched.

"I—"

"I’ll walk you home."

It wasn’t a suggestion. It was a command.

There was no room to refuse.

So you agreed.

But you didn’t expect him to take a different route.

Didn’t expect him to hold your hand tighter and tighter until your fingers tingled from lack of blood.

Didn’t expect the slow realization—the creeping horror—that this was not the way home.

"Xiao… this isn’t—"

He stopped walking.

And before you could react, before you could scream, before you could even think of running—

The world blurred. The air vanished from your lungs as his arms encircled you, an iron cage wrapped in the illusion of warmth.

The next time you opened your eyes, the walls were unfamiliar. The air smelled like incense, like something sacred and ancient. And the bed beneath you—

No.

You couldn’t move.

Panic surged through your veins as you struggled, your wrists bound, your breath coming in shallow gasps. A shadow moved in the dim candlelight, and then, there he was—watching you.

Xiao knelt beside you, his eyes a storm, turbulent with something raw, something terrifyingly tender.

"I’m sorry. This is the only way I can keep you with me."

His voice was soft, almost regretful, but the hunger in his gaze betrayed him.

The need. The greed. The unbearable devotion.

It was too much to bear.

He reached out, fingers ghosting over your cheek, tracing the shape of you as if to memorize, to claim. He leaned in, breath warm against your skin as he whispered apologies between desperate kisses pressed to your temple, your brow, your lips. Each one trembling with emotion, each one a prayer, a curse.

For being selfish.

For indulging in his desire.

For making you his karma.

And this time, no matter how much you fought, how much you begged—

He would never let you go.

╰⪼ VENTI - The Free-Spirited Musician

You were always so lost in life—adrift, untethered, drowning in an endless sea of monotony and despair. Everything was dull, every breath drawn out like a cruel mockery of existence itself. Until him.

Venti was sunlight in a world that had long since dimmed for you. He was laughter spun into melody, an ever-burning ember of warmth that thawed the ice in your chest. He made you feel alive for the first time in forever, and that was something you could never let go of.

You became utterly, hopelessly infatuated—no, that wasn’t strong enough. You were obsessed. You craved him the way a dying man craved air, the way a starving soul would gnaw through bone just to taste something real. Just being near him sent tremors of euphoria through you. Your eyes shone like they had never before, cheeks stained in an endless blush, heart thrumming like a frenzied drumbeat. It was maddening. It was intoxicating. It was love in its rawest, most terrifying form.

People noticed the change. One day, you were nothing—a hollow thing, with empty eyes and lips pressed into a thin, lifeless line. The next, you were a flurry of energy, glowing, vibrating with an unsettling kind of devotion. You trailed after him like a shadow that refused to fade, clinging to every word, every note, every scrap of attention he threw your way. Others whispered, wondered. How could someone shift so violently, so suddenly? How could mere presence turn a person from despondence to delirium?

Venti laughed it off at first, waving away the murmurs of concern. He had always drawn people to him; he was used to it. He thought it was flattering—endearing, even—how your face lit up the moment you saw him, how your fingers twitched with the desire to reach out but never quite dared.

But then the disappearances began.

Posters littered the walls, faces of men who had once crossed paths with him—some he barely knew, some he had laughed with once or twice. One by one, they vanished, swallowed by some unseen force, leaving nothing behind but fading echoes of familiarity.

At first, he dismissed it as coincidence. The world was vast and cruel, and people vanished all the time. But as the list grew, as his name was the only common thread among the missing, as your unwavering, feverish adoration never wavered—

He knew.

It had to be you.

Still, he never said anything. He never confronted you. What would he even say? He wasn’t afraid of you, not really, but there was something in the way you looked at him—like you would tear apart the world just to keep him in your grasp.

And yet, something changed.

One day, you stopped waiting for him after class. You stopped lingering near the places he frequented. Your fingers stopped twitching in his presence, your eyes no longer burned holes into his back. You became tame.

And then, you became distant.

It started subtly. A missed lunch here, a forgotten conversation there. You stopped seeking him out, stopped giving him that wide-eyed, desperate look as if he were the only thing keeping you tethered to this world.

Then days passed. And passed. And passed.

Until he almost never saw you at all.

And for the first time, Venti felt something foreign stir in his chest. Something wrong. Something akin to loss.

Why did it feel like something was slipping through his fingers?

One day, it was lunch. You were eating alone on the rooftop, the wind always so great up here, the vast sky stretching endlessly before you. It was peaceful—too peaceful, the kind that made your chest feel hollow rather than full.

"Oh, there you are!" Venti's voice shattered the silence, making you flinch. He strolled up to you with his usual carefree grin, but something in his eyes gleamed sharper than before. "How are you? Did you have a great day? Did you miss me? Have you eaten?" He bombarded you with questions, eyes flicking over your face like he was searching for something—something that used to be there but wasn’t anymore.

You blinked, staring at him in disbelief.

"What?" His smile didn’t waver, but his head tilted slightly, studying you. "Where did that passionate devotee go? I miss the love you brought me, even if it drove me nuts sometimes." He chuckled, but it was hollow.

Your stomach twisted, nausea creeping in.

"I always thought your wild devotion was the spark that lit up my days," he continued, plopping down beside you with a sigh, stretching his arms behind his head as if this were just another casual afternoon. Then, his tone shifted, quiet, almost vulnerable. "Now… it’s as if someone turned the music off."

You said nothing. You couldn’t. Because you felt it too.

You had always clashed with his breezy, untamed spirit—your dependency on him, your suffocating adoration, it had overwhelmed him. And yet, despite everything, Venti had secretly enjoyed it. He had basked in the knowledge that someone loved him that intensely. That someone cared so desperately.

But now? Now, you were slipping away. Your passion diluted, your obsession faded. And Venti—

Venti didn’t like that.

At first, he thought he would relish the peace, the freedom. But now, with you sitting beside him like a ghost of the person you once were, staring at him as if he were nothing but a fading dream—

He felt unmoored.

He missed the frantic, fevered glint in your eyes. The way your hands would shake with excitement just to be near him. The way you needed him, so entirely, so absolutely.

And if that fire had gone out—

Well.

Maybe it was time he rekindled it.

You just left. Without a word, without a second glance. As if all the time you spent together, all the laughter, all the stolen moments—none of it had mattered to you.

He didn’t like that.

No, he hated it.

It gnawed at him, a quiet, festering wound that refused to close. He watched—always watching—as you slipped further away, as you filled the space he once occupied with others. He saw how easily you could talk to them, smile at them, laugh in a way that used to be just for him. Why them? Why not him?

No.

That wasn’t how this was going to go.

If you wouldn’t come back to him willingly, then he would make sure there was nowhere else for you to turn. At first, it was subtle—an offhand comment here, a lingering stare there. But when that wasn’t enough, when you still insisted on keeping your distance, he decided to be more... persuasive.

His playful teasing took on a sharper edge, something darker, something crueler. Every time he saw you speaking to someone else, he found a way to fix it. After all, he was well-liked, charming, the kind of person people wanted to please. It wasn’t hard to “convince” others to keep their distance from you. A few rumors, a well-placed lie, a casual suggestion whispered in the right ear—it was all so easy.

And when you finally noticed, when you finally turned to him with confusion in your eyes, with nowhere else left to go…

Well.

That’s exactly what he wanted.

It started small. Innocent, almost. A missing phone here, a misplaced wallet there. Little things. Things that could happen to anyone, right? Maybe you were just being careless, distracted.

But then it kept happening. Your keys would vanish right when you were about to leave, only for him to miraculously “find” them hours later, tucked away in a place you swore you never put them. Your phone would be gone just long enough to make you late for plans—plans that mysteriously fell apart afterward. Your student ID? Your bus pass? They’d disappear, rendering you stuck, stranded. And who else could you turn to but him?

He always had a solution, a spare key, a replacement card, an offer to cover for whatever you lost. With a teasing smile, a playful laugh, he’d hand your things back like he was doing you a favor. Like he wasn’t the one orchestrating it all.

And then came the incidents.

An urgent text in the middle of the night—

I think someone’s following me, can you come over?

A sudden injury—

I think I twisted my ankle, can you help me get to the nurse’s office?

A campus-wide alert—

There’s been a safety issue, everyone should stay inside.

Little things that forced you to linger, to stay just a little longer, to spend more time with him until being around him became routine. Until relying on him became second nature.

At first, it was annoying. Then it was exhausting. And then…

It was suffocating.

It felt like no one else existed. The world outside blurred, grew smaller, less real. The campus, once so big, so full of people, now felt empty. Just the two of you. Just him.

Wait—when did it get this bad?

Wait—when did the campus get so small?

Wait—why are you in his bed?

And why don’t you know how you got here?

i js realized idk how to proofread lmao, anyways, HERE YA GOOO aahhhhh, i've been busy with life

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maehemthemisfit · 2 years ago

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THINKING ABOUT HOW...

Whenever you lay on TIGHNARI'S lap, his tail always seems to end up resting over your neck. It smells good from all the oils he lathers on it, and it keeps you warm. He likes when you card your fingers through his fur, it's calming, and whenever you stop he immediately knows the battle to keep your eyes open was lost to slumber. More often then not, you'll wake up to his tail tickling your chin or just straight up smacking you in the face. Sometimes it's intentional, but it's more like a pillow being thrown in your face.

KAZUHA would always be prepared if you ever experienced sea sickness in his travels, teyvat's equivalent of ginger ale and crackers quite literally on deck. He'll hold your hair back if you ever throw up and brew you herbal teas to drive the nausea away. He'll also rub comforting circles on your stomach if you give him permission, kissing away the pain and reassuring that you'll reach land soon.

If you're insistent enough, CYNO would let you play in his hair. His job is quite stressful, so feeling your fingers glide through his hair would literally put him to sleep most times. He might leave a braid or two you made in his hair and play with it whenever he thinks about you. He'll also show it off to Tighnari.

XIAO can't help but hide his face whenever you trace the markings on his arm or stomach (it's canon idc). He questions why you find the act so amusing and when you pull away he instinctively pulls your hand back, then becomes all bashful when he realized what he did. Is quick to urge you to continue and say "W-Why you'd stop? I never said I was against it..." Or something along those lines.

The Aranaras are always dancing around WANDERER no matter the occasion. They're always on his heel and you often spot him running away from a group of them, "Quit following me!" Leaving his lips. It's hilarious. He'll invite you for some tea and one of them would be perched on his head with that dopey smile :] He's exhausted, but he's secretly fond of them, especially the one you said looked similar to him (the blue one with the pretty hat), though he'll never admit it.

𓋜 ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. ꒱ 𖥔 ° . *

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years ago

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Sphinx!Xiao, who finds you stranded in the desert after your research group gets separated. A pack of wild coyote hybrids thought to be amicable, if not friendly towards humans attacked your camp in the middle of the night and sent you running aimlessly into the sand plains without time to gather food or water, let alone distress flares. By the time you stumble onto a wind-beaten temple, you're freezing, dehydrated, and exhausted. You barely have the strength to drag yourself up the meager steps and through the degraded doorway before you collapse on the sandstone floor, only able to hope that, by some miracle, a search party would be able to find you before you died of exposure. A search party doesn't find you, obviously, but Xiao does.

Sphinx!Xiao, who refuses to show himself for days. You only know he's there by the gifts he leaves you - cactus pears, palm dates, flasks of water and bitter wine that burns your throat as it goes down. It's not much, but it's enough to keep you alive, and you're too desperate to turn down anything he gives you. He's generous, too, giving you more than enough to get by while you're still in that state of bleary half-consciousness. You think he can tell that survival's not your area of expertise, that if you were left to your own devices, it'd only be a matter of time before you ate something poisonous or wandered into a bobcat den. That, or you're just pathetic enough to earn a few sand-covered blankets on top of the bare necessities.

Sphinx!Xiao, who lets you fawn over him with a purse-lipped scowl when you do finally manage to corner your elusive savior. You honestly just want to thank him, but once he's in front of you, you can't help grinning as you rake your fingers through the ivory feathers of his massive wings and scratch at the bases of his rounded ears. You've never so much as heard of a creature with both the wings and eyes of a bird-based hybrid and the legs, tail, and fangs of a cat-based hybrid, so you can't stop yourself from treating him like the eighth wonder of the world (unintended affection a touch-starved Xiao secretly basks in, not that you notice the pale blush painted across his skin while you're performing a remarkably thorough investigation on the color of his paw-pads).

Sphinx!Xiao, who stand-offish at best, reclusive at worst. He's clearly not used to having someone to talk to, his voice rough and his dialogue usually limited to one-word phrases or barked orders, but you can usually manage to string along your brief conversations on your own, either wondering aloud when you might be rescued or telling him about all the things you're going to do when you make it back to civilization. For every hour you spend fantasizing about baths and take-out and air conditioning, he spares a few words about himself. From what you can gather, he's a guardian of-sorts, meant to protect people like you from a threat he claims you couldn't begin to understand. You're not really in a place to question him, considering you didn't even know a hybrid like him could exist a few weeks ago.

Sphinx!Xiao, who also claims he's not allowed to 'meddle in human matters', meaning he can't help you beyond making sure you don't starve to death. You've asked him if he's seen anyone looking for you while hunting, but he's never given you a straight answer, and when you suggest that he just, say, put that twenty-foot wingspan to use and drop you off on the edge of the nearest town or village, he just scowls, rolls his eyes, refuses to say anything at all. You want to press the subject, sometimes, but you really can't afford to annoy him, to make yourself even more of an irritation to him than you already are. You wouldn't survive a day out here, on your own. You wouldn't survive without Xiao.

Sphinx!Xiao, whose gifts have been getting more... modern, recently. Luxuries are still few and far between, but you have a small store of canned food, now, a couple fleece blankets that don't seem at least a decade old, bits of scrap metal and glass that must've caught Xiao's eye. You try not to pry, not to turn down anything he gives you, but his most recent gift - a half-crushed, silver wedding band with an odd, scarlet stain you can't seem to polish away - hasn't seen the light of day since he dropped it into your hand.

Sphinx!Xiao, who keeps his wings wrapped around you as you sob into his shoulder and beat your fists against his chest. You're not in the temple anymore, dilapidated and open, but his den - a hellish, lightless cave filled to bursting with golden jewelry and century-old artifacts and scraps of metal and clothing that couldn't have come from anything but human travelers, from dozens upon dozens of people who could've saved you if he hadn't gotten in the way.

Sphinx!Xiao, who hums and coos and purrs as he rubs circles into your back, as he promises that he's not going to hurt you, that he's not going to let anything hurt you ever again.

Sphinx!Xiao, who's always been a guardian, first and foremost. It's just that now, he's decided it's his responsibility to guard you.

#hybrid au #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #yandere xiao #yanderecore #yandcore

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