violet-eng

[violet-eng]

.:I don’t trust anyone else, but you:.

pairing: Choi Su-bong/Thanos x Reader

a/n: SPOILERS - SQUID GAME SEASON 3 - WATCH TIL THE END this is a one shot with an alt ending to fix myself, totally self indulgent; no further summary, as it would spoil the show

contains: usual Squid Game stuff - mentions of drugs, death and depression; comfort, softie Thanos

w/c: 1.5k

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It's 2 AM and your doorbell is ringing.

You are more than pissed at the sound and whoever is pressing the damn bell.

You’ve been doing extra and double shifts at Club Pentagon, since Nam-gyu was gone. He���s been completely unavailable since Halloween, his phone going to voicemail every time. None of you heard of him. One of the guys even went to check on him at his place, but his roommates said they have no clue where he may be. Chances are he OD’d in a ditch somewhere were high.

The doorbell ring turns into loud banging against the door.

“(Y/n), open up! It’s Thanos!” -the familiar deep voice shouts. “Please!”

I’m gonna kill him! -you huff, half meaning it. You’ve been in a situationship with him - but that doesn't mean you wouldn’t put him through your window if he came over for money to get high or if he wants to have sex. You’re disheveled, underslept and overworked. You hop out of bed, wearing only an oversized Club Pentagon logo T-shirt as your nightgown. You rip your door open - almost out of its frame.

“You son of a bitch…” -you yawn. “You have any idea what time-...”

“Please! I need help with her!”

Your eyes grow as big as saucers.

Thanos is not alone. He is holding a very small baby, possibly no older than a few days, wrapped in a pink swaddle.

“Where the hell did you get this baby?!” -you whisper-shout and hit his arm. “Did you knock up some poor girl?!” -with his libido, that would make sense. A woman getting sick of his shit and dropping the baby on him is your first and only guess.

“Fuck no, I always wrap up or pull out!” -he goes all defensive. “It’s not my kid.”

“Then why do you have it?!”

“It’s a long story.” -he sighs. “Just let us in! Please!”

You angrily curse under your breath but let him in.

“You better explain yourself.” -you say as you sit at your kitchen table. He gently places the baby on the table. The baby is quiet - not a peep out of them. “Boy or girl?” -you start.

“A girl. Baby Senorita.” -Thanos smiles softly as he looks at the baby in an adoring manner. He rocks her gently. His big hand envelopes almost her entire body.

“Okay, please tell me that’s not her legal name, or she’s gonna end up on a pole in 18 years time!”

“No, it's temporary.” -he chuckles.

“And? What happened? How did you get this baby?” -you press. You need all the information!

Thanos takes a deep breath. He tells you the wildest, most unhinged story you have ever heard in your life - and you’ve been hanging out with Thanos and Nam-gyu for years!

He tells you about the Pink Guards and the players in green tracksuits.

He tells you about Red Light, Green Light - where a doll somehow shoots people who move at red light. He tells you about Six-Legged Pentathlon - where people are tied together and need to complete mini-games, like ddakji and gonggi. If they don’t pass, they get killed. He tells you about Mingle - how his bro, Gyeong-su, died because of him. Whoever that is…

Then he tells you about Hide and Seek - where taggers have to kill the hiders. He tells you about Jump Rope - where so many people died, because of their sustained injuries from the previous game. He tells you that’s when the baby’s mom and Nam-gyu died, too. He tells you about a fancy dinner and about Sky Squid Game - where only 3 people had to be eliminated, but MG Coin, some guy he took crypto advice from on YouTube, got greedy and nearly killed his own baby. Apparently, Thanos was holding the baby and pressed the button, while MG Coin and this guy who played these games before - you assumed another player - were fighting and they both fell to their deaths, making Thanos and the baby the winners of Squid Game 2024. They each won 22.8 billion ₩. He was knocked unconscious and dropped off just an hour ago with the baby in downtown Seoul. You look at him in disbelief. Each sentence he speaks out loud makes the frown deepen between your brows and your jaw drop lower. None of it makes any sense!

“Thanos… with all due respect, man… how fucking high are you?!”

“Bitch, I ran out of pills days ago!” -he snaps. This startles the baby and she starts crying. “Ah, shit… look what you did!”

“Me?!”

“You woke up Baby Senorita!” -he picks up the baby and starts rocking her, holding the tiny thing against his chest. He starts singing but quickly fails to remember the lyrics. “Hush Senorita, don’t you cry, Thanos gonna buy you a… uh…um.. A la-la-la. La-la-la-la-la-la-la na-na-na-na-na…”

“Okay.” -you huff, standing up. “Let’s pretend it’s true.”

“It is!” -he hisses.

“Whatever.” -you roll your eyes. It is so far-fetched, you don’t even try to wrap your head around it. “Why are you here?”

“Because I don’t trust anyone else, but you, (Y/n)!”

You open your mouth, but your words die on your lips. His brown eyes are full of sadness. He must have seen things. Things that broke him. You know he isn’t lying, he wouldn’t, he is horrible at that. But to believe all of this? People playing children’s games and getting killed?

You let out a deep sigh.

“I’ll get her some stuff. You two stay here until we figure it out in the morning, ok?”

Thanos nods and walks to your bedroom with the baby.

He’s worn out. He is tired and terrified. He played the last two games without any drugs left in his system and it was taking its toll on him. He falls asleep almost immediately in your soft, clean bed - no stench of sweat or blood… or death.

However, he is tortured by nightmares and the ghosts of the games. He sees Mi-na, Gyeong-su, Se-mi, Min-su and Nam-gyu… all the people he cared about in the games. He jolts awake, drenched in sweat, his chest heaving. It’s over - he reminds himself. He’s out and he’s alive - but at what cost? He feels he will be haunted forever.

He sits up in your bed, massaging his forehead. He looks to his side to see the baby and you sleeping. Your shopping trip was a little longer than expected, but you got the essentials - formulas and diapers. Once you got home, Thanos and the baby were sleeping. Since you only had one bedroom with a double bed, you fell asleep next to the baby.

You’re curled up in a fetal position. Thanos decides not to wake you and makes himself coffee - even though his body is craving something else. Something much stronger. His entire being is trembling. He knows it is the lack of sleep and the things he has seen - but he can’t help it. For a split second he wants to leave. He wants to leave the baby with you and never look back. He convinces himself, that the baby would be better off without a junkie like him. He just wants to get high as a kite and forget the games have ever happened. He wants to forget he has seen and smelled death for 6 long days - the death of people he cared for.

He drops the cup that shatters to pieces on the tiles. The noise is so loud. The baby starts crying - which wakes you up, too.

“Shhs, it’s ok.” -you pick up the baby. “It’s ok. Shhs.” -you coo. “Thanos?” -you walk out of the bedroom. You see him sitting on the floor, next to a broken cup, his face stained with tears and worry. “Hey!” -you hurry yourself to his side and kneel next to him. “What happened?”

“I broke a cup.” -he sniffs.

“Fuck that! I meant you!”

Instead of responding, he pulls you and the baby into a hug. With one hand, you hold the baby, but with the other you pat Thanos on his back.

“Hey…” -you say softly. “It’s gonna be ok. I’m gonna be right here. For the both of you. As long as you need.” -you reassure. Thanos lets go of you and looks you in your eyes.

“Promise?” -he asks.

“Of course.” -you brush his cheek. “I could never abandon you.”

Thanos can’t say a word. His eyes are fixated on yours - he feels he found something else in you: hope. He feels at home with you - the storm immediately calming in him at your touch. He holds your hand and kisses your palm.

His sweet action makes you blush. For the first time, it doesn’t feel like he just wants a quick release. It feels rather genuine and caring.

“Su-bong…” -you whisper. You never used his real name before. “Let’s go back to bed and figure it out in the morning.” -you stand up.

He nods and follows you.

“I’ll get you another cup.” -he says.

You chuckle softly and kiss his cheek.

“You need to get me a lot more than just a cup since you and Baby Senorita are going to stay.”

He smiles.

You both know it will be dysfunctional situationship, but nonetheless it will be all yours. 

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Taglist: @bettelaboure @flymetothexmoon @nerdydoll-com @ldydeath @infinetlyforgotten @cybertempo @breakmeoff @wcnderlnds @emmiesoverthemoon @berfgrimm @forevervibezzzz1 @youlikeex @moontabi @djarindroid @moonqz @makeitworse

feel free to request to be tagged/removed in future fics!

[violet-eng]

🔞 Teen Thanos x teen fem!reader

A/N: This friend had a dream and I got obsessed with it… she wanted me to write it and I did my best.

Summary: Choi Subong, your friend, starts acting weird when he looks at you deadly in the eye during classes. You may think he's developing a crush with your seat friend… But maybe you're wrong.

Mdni

Tw: Last year students, shy, jealous and insecure reader, use of the name Thanos once, reader thinks he's in love with someone else, reader gets jealous because Thanos holds someone's hand, virgin!reader, lost of virginity, clumsy!thanos, but eventually experienced!Subong/Thanos, softdom!thanos, bottom!reader, fingering, p i v, missionary, small biting, small talk. Not edited.

🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🪻🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃🍃

You knew him to the core.

You knew he wanted to become a rapper, you knew he loved hip hop and longed to travel to the United States. You knew every detail of his face, the sharp eyes and the hair that fell on his forehead, the way his fingers vibrate around the pencil when an idea came to his mind for a new verse.

Choi Subong was an innocent soul with sporadic nuances, a maze of spontaneous thoughts embodied in a pretty-faced teenager.

And you... You were a tumult of questions, a swirl of insecurities and tasks. You perceived yourself as so opposite to him, an explicit divergence in your personalities that somehow or other made your friendship work.

You liked him, your affection for him was so deep and innocent that you found yourself hopelessly wrapped up in an idyllic unrequited feeling. You were not his type, it was clear to you, boys like him don't fall in love with girls like you, but rather with girls like your seatmate.

Ah... she sure was cute, as confident as she was witty, as lacking in insecurities, as perfect for him... and that was exactly what made you confused. Because if she was the idealization of his perfect partner model, what was he doing staring at you during the first period break?

Longing, misfortune, inspiration, confusion, fear, insecurity, caution, restraint, pain... his gaze was as indecipherable as he himself was. Sitting at his desk a few steps away from yours, amidst the hustle and bustle of the room, the conversations around you became blurred and the voices more and more distant, because his gaze on you seemed to placate everything around you.

No, he definitely couldn't be looking at you, not in that way that made your heart beg for a chance, for a word or a look that was more intimate, more his and precisely right for you, for both of you. It wasn't you, it was never you, it was her. The certainty was cruel, your mind was determined to forge that truth and live around it: Subong liked your friend (silly).

You were back that day from lunch, chatting with your friends, sitting at your desk while fixing the boards of your skirt, when you saw Subong approaching you. He was going to say something, you were sure.

You said something about the food at lunch, but he said nothing. Sitting across from you, that look again...doubt, pain, longing. His eyes glittered, enthusiastic orbs chained to a torment you didn't know, undecipherable.

The second period bell was the only thing that could cut the tension of the moment, dragging Subong back to his seat.

The end of the second period. On the way home, at the corner, your friend eagerly grabbed you by the shoulders, shaking you vigorously as she let out a shout of joy.

“Subong likes you!” she exclaimed with eagerness.

“What weird things you say...” you shook your head.

“He looks at you as if he would die if he spoke to you.”

“He must want to ask me for some favor, maybe he wants to go out with you.”

She snorted, so deep it seemed to move the treetops. “Of course not, for God's sake, he pays more attention to you than to his rhymes.”

You grimaced in disagreement.

“I want fried chicken” she said suddenly grabbing you by the hand and dragging you to the nearest store.

You were drinking soda when the group of guys came in, friends from school, Subong among them. He was petrified when he met your gaze.

Everyone at the table shared small talk, Subong and you a couple of laughs and comments, and maybe the occasional grazing of hands as you tried to grab the sauce for the chicken. Your friend looked at him, then at you. One had to be very foolish not to sense what you both felt but were afraid to confess.

The group left as night was falling, almost everyone walking in the same direction, until an intersection separated the three of you from the rest. The chatter was pleasant, your friend held your hand, Subong walked behind both of you.

“Come Subong, I can't hear you well” she said, dragging him between the two of you, causing him to instinctively grab your hand... just like hers. Subong's fingers were warm, the warmth of his skin wrapped around your palm as his thumb lazily caressed the back of your hand.

It was almost perfect, except that he was also holding your friend's hand... was he also caressing her hand? did he fit better with her than with you? was this some kind of charity?

“I forgot something” you said suddenly ceasing to walk, pulling your hand almost too roughly away from his. The chill of the night running across your skin almost at the instant of separation.

And then, the martyrizing picture, just as you suspected... They looked good together, him taller, his firm hand encircling her delicate digits, almost caging her small limb, so clinging to her.

“I'll go,” your friend said, suspecting the worst, it was as if she read the wave of theories overflowing through your mind.

"No, it's okay. Go ahead without me" you insisted turning around and walking to who knows where.

Moving down the street, you still felt the tingle of his fingers on your skin, the electricity of his ambiguous touch, the sway of his walk and the sound of his voice, the closeness of your deep harmony. You sensed him so intimate, so alien to the rest, but deep down you felt that he would never be yours, not even for you.

So foolish you had been to believe for a moment that Subong felt something for you.

The sudden weight on your shoulder pulled you away from your own trance. You didn't have to turn around to know it was him, his fingertips digging into your clothes, static on your skin, lightly moving your shoulder to make you turn to look at him.

“How long have you been following me?” you asked bluntly. Still turning your back to him.

“As soon as you left I followed you” his hand trailed down your arm to your wrist, “I wasn't going to leave you walking alone, I'm taking you”, he began to guide you down the street.

And again that pleasant sensation that made your heart shrink, his hand covering yours with indelible naturalness. But it hurt, for some reason you couldn't conceive the idea that at least deep down, he held a shred of affection for you.

“I'd rather go alone,” you said, waving your hand, releasing yourself from his grip.

He turned to you, round eyes with surprise, and yet his hand found yours again almost like a magnet.

“Subong, stop it” you exclaimed pushing his insistence away with disdain.

“What's wrong with you?” he gasped, almost as disgusted as you were, his lips in a pout, “you've been acting strange all day.”

“Me?” the expression was as sharp as it was disappointing, "I'm not the one who came over after lunch to stare at someone silently, you talk as if I'm the one who was staring at you during second period. You're the one staring at me like a zombie, you walk up to me without saying anything, and when I think you're going to act normal you hold my hand in a way you don't do to a friend...you make me believe things that aren't there. Being honest, I don't understand you, if you're playing a game tell me because I really don't think I can stand whatever it is you're…”

Words catch in your throat as his lips meet yours, catching the claim in his breath, wrenching away misery and every hint of insecurities with the synchronized movement of your mouths. Soft, yes, his lips were soft as you imagined, deft and cautious, prudence contained in shy assaults of his tongue.

“You talk too much” he said over your lips, careful not to break the kiss as his hands cupped your cheeks.

No one was home, and all the while you two were a pair of off-balance idiots, giggling between kisses trying to get out of each other's clothes. Your foreheads pressed together with your hearts in a frenzy.

The room felt so small, the heat was unsettling as Subong's hands tried to undo your blouse with little proficiency. The anxiety of this dance of desire collapsed Subong's skills, who laughed nervously as he removed the clasp from your skirt.

The fabric rolled down your legs, leaving you in your underwear, the blush creeping up your cheeks, and him, his lips parted as his gaze roamed over you as if you were a dish he was eager to devour, as if you were an unknown world.

Pants off. Now you were on the mattress, Subong on top of you. You didn't dare look at him, you felt ashamed to have to see his….

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No!” you replied almost too quickly, too confidently compared to his serene, almost shy tone.

He just nodded, cautious, a subtle nod of his head.

He pressed his lips together as if encouraging himself, and grabbed your panties from the corners, sliding his hands over your hips and thighs, he seemed too focused on this, almost doubtful... Is it that he didn't want to? He didn't know how to do it? Subong wasn't a virgin... or was he?

“You know how to do it don't you?” the cautious way you said it had to have been too funny to draw a smile from Subong. His face seemed to light up.

“You think Thanos is a virgin?” he asked as he settled your legs around his hips, the third person mention had stolen a chuckle from you

“We won't be needing this” he said leaning towards you. His hands found your bra clasp with a familiar nature, weathered and trained as he uncovered the valley of your breasts from their captivity .

"I thought..."

“You were just making me nervous, that's all... I didn't want you to be regrets” the words carried so much lust, but his eyes held so much innocence... Or something darker, something you couldn't decode.

“Subong” you caressed his cheek, his name uttered like a desperate oath.

He leaned in vehemently, his lips finding yours, his bare chest against your bare breasts, your erect nipples against his restless throbbing, his member touching your lower belly.

He is cautious in touching you, his fingertips burning on your skin as he roams you as if you would break in his arms, probes beneath the shadow of your breasts and the curve of your waist, dipping low enough to make you shudder beneath him.

His lips descend to your chin, his tongue traces the line of your jaw and designates your neck as his favorite domain, sucking the skin furiously, oblivious to the designs of sanity, feeling you begin to wriggle from the stimulation.

The heat grows between your thighs, and without leaving your neck, Subong's fingers slide between your legs. Almost as if summoned by your growing ecstasy.

Your nails dig into his scarred shoulders, tanned skin beginning to sweat from the warmth of your incessant moans.

His fingers slip through your juices, parting your folds cautiously, drawing moans from your throat. He caresses you gingerly, smooth and sober, as he leaves kisses on your collarbone, descending to your chest, designating a route to the tacit foreplay.

One of his fingers touches your entrance, and you almost gasp as he moves in. Thin, hard, and determined. You moan as you arch your back, Subong's hand for support, between your shoulder blades caressing the sweaty skin, as his mouth sucks at your buttons.

He takes his time inserting his second finger, invading your insides, touching fibers you didn't know could be touched, sending waves of heat between your legs, to your abdomen. The swirl of sensations clouding your vision. His fingers begin to move in rhythm, digging inside you, the wet sound overtaking your moans.

You feel the tingling increase, the warmth of that unfamiliar sensation spreading to your thighs. The sway of his fingers is smooth, gentle and peaceful, he was seeking your own pleasure, not his. He wanted to show how good he could make you feel.

“More” the words roll fluidly across your tongue, as if they were part of your vocabulary. And when Subong's fingers leave you, making you miss that feeling of fullness, you feel something else...

There was no way you could stretch that wide, but his length advancing inside you, centimeter by centimeter, seemed to remove all traces of doubt.

“Subong~” your cry is an amalgam of pleasure and pain, diamonds of tears appearing at the corners of your eyes.

“The first time hurts a little, I know” he whispers against your chest, frowning and anchoring his fingers into your skin as his cock breaks through your velvet walls.

Tight, virginal, fragile and delicate, there was an appendage of guilt in his intrusion as he ripped away your innocence with his passion. He was inside, you could feel him coursing around every corner, the strange texture exploring your womanhood, filling you as far as he could.

A growl from him, as he sunk his face into the crook of your neck, his hand stroking your hair, tangling a lock in his fist as your chin rested on his shoulder. His scent filled your mind with lust, growing ardor of unknown sensations, trapped beneath him, filled with his desire for you.

As he began to move you felt the sky pounce on you, your back sliding across the mattress in a back and forth of deep, soft but deep lunges, as your ear was bathed by his low moans, that husky, dark voice crying out your name.

“You don't know how bad you make me” he said leaving a bite on your neck, his hips pressing against yours, pounding you with the rush of fluids.

"I thought so much of you. In this" a stray caress in your hair, as his crescendoing motion pushed you further and further.

You clung to his back, his shoulder against your nose during his penetrating fluctuation, as he seemed to pull you tighter into a kind of embrace, leaving wet kisses on your cheek.

“I was afraid you wouldn't accept me” a growl after it, a deep one as he felt you tighten on him, “I was afraid I could never have you like this” the pace frantic, relentless.

Your back arches, the heat growing in your abdomen, your nails marking his skin, the scarlet traces of your ebullient stride, of your climb to ecstasy.

Erratic and wild, Subong did not want to let go, clinging to your walls, to that soft spot that pounded incessantly, insisting on hearing you scream his name.

Heat, burning, pressure... the release was as hot as the ascent, the weight wrenched away with a final onslaught as you felt the tangle inside you unravel and your muscles convulse.

Subong stayed in you, deep, as you both moaned, embraced, joined in various ways. One last kiss on your neck before he pulled out of you, the strings of his ecstasy escaping from your insides, wet and warm, as much as the kisses he began to place on your shoulder as he lay next to you, his arm under your head and his breath against your skin. You looked up at the ceiling as your feet tangled together, as your heart slowed.

Those furtive glances continued during breaks, during classes, and intensified when hiding in the music room after school, when Subong would drop his notebook full of verses about you to lift your skirt and corner you against the wall, or when during lunch he would touch your thigh maybe too far above the knee... in any case you didn't stop him because those deep black eyes begging for affection were your damn weakness..

[violet-eng]

🔞🔥 Thanos / Su-bong x fem!reader | SG AU

Summary: You and Thanos/Su-bong are best friends. You like another man, though your heart breaks when at a party you see him go to a room with another girl. That's when your best friend Su-bong, who you know is madly in love with you, comforts you. Things escalate when you ask him to spend the night with you to find out what it feels like to be fucked by someone who loves you.

Tw: Smut (soft?), little dialogue, Thanos is mentally normal/stable here, slowburn, porn? with plot, breast playing, mention of alcohol, mention of drugs, p i v, unprotected sex. I think that's it. MDNI 🔞🔥

A/N: This was in my drafts, not edited, english is not my first lang.

I haven't written in a while btw, in case you feel cringe or something

Enjoy

wc: 3,5k

You watched him lose himself in the crowd with her, his hand encircling her fingers, the grip natural and fluid, as if they were made for each other. He seemed so oblivious to their surroundings, to the tumult that jostled them and the noise that consumed them, because there was only her. And you, from the corner of the kitchen, holding that glass of tequila with who knows what in it, felt your world disintegrate, your heart shattering, sinking into a lament that seemed to go on forever. Nothing more cumbersome than the abandonment of your first and only love, the indifference that cuts like a dagger, bruising every aspect of your dignity. You knew where they were going, you knew that the door to the master bedroom would close behind them and that he would wrap his arms around her as he vowed her a future and professed overflowing love. That should be you, because no one was going to love him like you loved him.

And it hurt, your heart burned with remorse at the thought of them, of him being an explorer of her body. You left the glass in the kitchen, you hadn't noticed the stuffy nose, the feelings trapped in your chest, the way the petty, foolish heart hammered desperately in search of a way out, of something to soothe the pain.

You left the house for air, escaping the music and the party, clinging to your coat and your last yearnings, hoping to vanish the scene seen in the cold night air.

You looked at the moon, round over the city, so stupidly romantic while you were so miserably alone, broken, crumbling.

“It's freezing outside, señorita” the voice next to you shook you.

“Su-bong” you articulated the words turning to him, hand covering your nose in an attempt to subdue the absurd feelings about to overflow, “I didn't see you.”

“Of course not” the words trailed a hidden intention, approaching you with the vape in his hand, walking slowly and almost rhythmically, “did something happen?”

Su-bong didn't behave like that with the rest of the people, but you were his favorite person, maybe the only living being that, according to his own words, didn't cause him repulsion.

Su-bong's touch, unlike his everyday manner, was delicate, subtle, almost nonexistent. He adjusted your coat and lifted your chin, his fingers gingerly holding your chin.

His eyes hid a poem, an implicit adoration. Though he had professed his love for you before and you had denied it, he wouldn't give up, never would, because to him you were the only thing worthwhile. And you knew it.

And all that, plus the tequila, and the magnificent full moon night, did nothing but make you vulnerable with him.

The tears didn't stop once they came out, the whimpers were embarrassing, like a little girl, you threw yourself into his arms to cry, so broken and disappointed in your own attitude and reaction.

“Why does he want her?” you clung to his back, his arms around your figure, his hands caressing the fabric of your clothes against your back, your face sunk into his chest as he hovered over you. And there, while you felt as small as you were fragile, he cared for you as you crumbled into shameful moans.

“What's wrong with me, Su-bong?” your eyes met his, and Su-bong, in how unempathetic and sensitive he is, wailed as he watched his world lose itself in agony for a wretch. His palms cupped your cheeks, and his forehead found yours as he left insistent kisses on your nose and cheeks.

“There's nothing wrong with you.”

He had always been like that with you, he never limited himself in showing you how madly in love he was with you, being honest and embarrassingly romantic in front of you and his friends. But he wasn't your type, you didn't like outrageous or colorful boys like him, you had built up an image that contrasted with his, you so sensible and he so histrionic and volatile. And yet you loved him, Su-bong had a special place in your heart as your best friend, your partner in adventures, even if they ended with him trying to steal a kiss or touching your lower back, perhaps too low to be friendly.

You felt Su-bong's lips on your cheek, at the corner of your lips, dangerously below your chin as if to wring an involuntary moan from you, knowing that he would take advantage of any opportunity where you were completely at his mercy.

“You're perfect,” that husky voice of his, depth in his tone and words, his devotion painted darkly in his eyes, so helpless to see you in tears. His hands, now unobtrusive near your waist, not at all impertinent as usual, as if he finally had some decorum in being near you.

He took you home, as he used to do, checked the rooms and secured the windows while you made your way to your bedroom. You crawled on the bed, your feet as if you had walked on fire, why had you decided to wear those heels? Ah, to impress that boy, how pathetic you had been, like a high school teenager trying to look mature for her teacher.

“All in order” Su-bong approached you with a glass of water, and you smiled as you watched him sit down in front of you leaving his shoes in an awkward motion.

He wasn't careful, but with you he always tried to be, so you weren't surprised when his hands reached your ankles to massage your skin, almost exactly where it needed relief.

“You always know what I need” you whispered as his dexterous hands crept around your ankle, he just smirked, almost too proud of his actions. “Look how those shoes left me, they didn't even fit me...”

“You looked cute in them,” he said.

“To you I'll always look cute, even with a plastic bag”

“And that's the kind of man you should follow, one who is dying for you and adores any aspect or nuance of your personality, no matter if you make decisions with your head or your ass.”

“For a moment you sounded like a normal person”

Laughter, your voices echo in the room, and for a moment you perceive perfect harmony in the tone of your voices, combining and interlocking like puzzle pieces.

“You are too much to cry for him... I would never make you cry if you gave me the chance”

“What would you do if I gave you the chance?” the question came unmeasured from your lips, straight from your heart into the air, pushed by the heaviness in the room and the warmth of his closeness.

“I would put you on a pedestal” he smiled, almost as if he had rehearsed the answer before, “I would never make you feel insecure, you would never hesitate by my side” he pecked your chin with his fingers and a smile.

“And above all” his tone became more serious, more intimate, he moved closer, the distance between you untouchable, his forehead inches from yours "I would make you feel loved, so desired that you would never think of anyone else. I would kiss away your doubts and the memories of others with caresses. I would make you understand that you are my world and that I would always choose you over anything. I would make you feel so mine that you would wish I would never part from you" with his hand on your chin, his thumb caressed your lips, and for the first time, you didn't pull away, nor laugh at his intrusion. You took him by surprise, almost tearing down the safe facade in front of you.

 His eyes widened and became almost round at your stillness, at the feel of your lips under his thumb, he had longed for it so long ago. Even he was surprised at his reaction to the crumbs of attention you gave him.

“Prove it” you whispered, the vibration of your voice jumped to his fingers, sending an electric current between the two of you, “I want to know what it feels like to have someone love you, want you.”

Su-bong's breath was cut off, his heart in his chest, begging thumping for such a moment, for the permission given to touch you...

“Make me yours, Su-bong”

And that was the end for him, the end of the agony that came locked in his pants. 

He removed the glass from your hands, his nervous fingers letting the glass slip for an instant, leaving it on the nightstand next to your bed, only to return in front of you agitated, his gaze fixed on your orbs. And at your smile, the welcome of your hands resting on his cheek, he leaned in for his lips to find yours like a hurried oath, like a prayer of closeness and uncontrolled acceptance, sucking on your lower lip as if trying to rip your soul from your throat. Each caress cut off by moans and saliva, his mouth would open over yours seeking air to plunge back into the doom of your lips.

His hands did not stop, ready to explore every inch of you, every curve of your figure, to memorize with his fingertips the apex of your being. He held you by the nape of your neck to gain access to your mouth, to let his tongue delve into your palate fully savoring every corner of your mouth, while his other hand rested on your hip, his thumb caressing the crease of your thigh and slowly moving up your abdomen to your chest, kneading the flesh beneath your clothing.

He pulled away from you, both of you with your chest rising and falling, Su-bong's hand still gripping your breast, watching the intensity of your movement as he himself swallowed saliva and took a deep breath through his nose. You watched him closely, lips swollen, skin around it flushed.

Su-bong's gaze was fixed on your body, then on your face, his mind a jumble, the gears in his head rubbing almost audibly. His hand pressed your breast, while the other slid to the other one squeezing both like play dough as he stared at them mesmerized, as if he had never touched a woman, while you bit your lip, crumbling under his grip.

“This is real” he said, his pleading eyes meeting yours, his hands still kneading you “it's not another one of those dreams that suddenly end and make me wake up with an erection, is it?”

You shook your head, your hands resting behind you on the mattress as you watched his hands perfectly cage your breasts, his fingers circling the curve of your valleys managing to formulate in you the first disturbing thought about him. His fingers, how skilled he would be with them, how good they would feel inside...

He dragged you onto the sheet, his hands suddenly anchored on your hips, drawing you to him, pressing his manhood against your clothed center, leaving you almost straddling him as he slid his hands to the roundness of your ass, sinking his fingers into your soft flesh under your skirt, over your panties. Curiosity shadowed by desire, the craving for touch overflowing through his restless hands.

You hesitated leaving your hands on his shoulders, exhaling uncertainty and anticipation blinded by lustful longing, feeling his hardness beneath you. Your hands went up to his neck, soft caresses at the angle of his chin, as defined as a blade, running down his neck and chest, finding the desperate vibration of his heart locked in him.

Su-bong melted back into you in a kiss, in a distant and fervent longing as he slid the fabric of your dress over your head and fluidly undid your bra, his warm hands finding the line of your spine, descending in a path deserting sanity, surrendering to his innermost desires. He removed his shirt in one swift movement to return his hands to where they belong, to your body, to the curve of your waist to leave your back against the mattress, his thumbs brushing the shadow of your sagging breasts as the cross hanging from his neck hit your chin. His mouth positioning itself on yours, fitting him perfectly between your legs, sliding his tongue down your chin, leaving wet kisses on your neck and collarbone, tasting your breasts and leaving a trail of kisses over your abdomen, advancing to your thighs as his hands hovered against your fleshy skin.

Kisses on your inner thighs, gasps and promises to love you and make you feel cared for if you stayed by his side, praising how beautiful you looked marked by his mouth, exhaling with difficulty at the shock of ecstasy that grew with each movement executed by him.

His  pants had begun to get in the way, the fabric seemed to fly away followed by his boxers and necklace, falling to the floor next to your dress, just before he began to take care of himself.

He didn't want to look like a saint, he wasn't, so when he leaned over you, his length encased in his hand, brushing against your thigh, he whispered in your ear: “You don't know how many times I've masturbated imagining something like this, you are my downfall” 

Su-bong left a kiss under your earlobe and added “damn, you're so much better than drugs”.

Your panties on the floor, your legs around his hips, heels fitting perfectly into his lower back, like a perfect piece of craftsmanship as his hands lay next to your head, his shadow looming over you.

You would have laughed if you had been told a couple of hours ago that you would be in bed with Su-bong on top of you, even though he often told you so himself, it seemed something completely inconceivable, even at this moment when you felt his tip tantalizing your skin.

You watched him suddenly, as your hands rested on his shoulders, your fingers following the trace of his muscles, the way he tensed under your touch, the silent prayer behind his black eyes, the anticipation legible in his breath. Longing, desire and devotion, all were implied only in his gaze, in the gentle caress of his hand on your cheek, as his thumb made soft circles on your skin, and you saw it in his smile. Su-bong was smiling so innocently that he didn't seem to be in the present position.

When your bodies finally bonded, both shared a soft moan, your face nestling in the palm of his hand while he comforted you with gentle caresses. Softness exuding lust, eroticism and desire combined with tenderness. He seemed perfectly made for you, working his way thoroughly through your silkiness, leading the way with deep surrender and pure affection.

You felt him exploring your insides with pause and diligence, as his hands traveled through your being, your heart beating against his hand as he played with your buttons, or your breath shortening as he kissed your neck and sank his face onto your shoulder. You heard him moan your name in your ear as he pounded inside you a little harder, as his hands slid next to yours on top of your head, as he whispered desperately how much he had loved you for years.

So this is what it felt like to have someone love you. That deep and hostile, yet cautious and smooth, painful and pleasurable. The dichotomy of passion described in every lunge, in every salty kiss and every word.

“My princess” you heard him almost on the verge of madness, slipping into you so naturally. “Never think of him again” left a trail of insistent kisses.

Your skin burned, your muscles tensed, and the vulgar sound of kissing and his movements filled the room, there was nothing but promise and stars, no doubt and no remorse, not when he was pounding so deliciously inside you.

You clung to his back as you felt him rougher, more uncontrolled, almost savage. Su-bong rested one hand on the back of the bed as he gripped you tightly around the waist, his face contorted in pleasure, whispering dirty things as he felt the way you tightened around him. Every thrust tore a moan from your lips, and every time your breasts bounced grunts came from his chest.

It wasn't right to use him like this, your friendship would be completely bruised when this was all over. And you knew he would be saddened when you treated him again with the distance of friendship. Maybe you should have asked him to stop, or stopped moaning his name so much when you felt him pick up the pace, maybe, maybe... but it all vanished when his thumb went down to your center, when his agility pressed on your nerves with such dexterity that it made you forget everything and come back to that, to him splitting you in half as he whispered cloying promises.

The air was thin, your heart thudding in your throat. Su-bong was good at fucking, no, an expert... a specialist in... a master, a... whatever.

Your mind was in a whirl, a jumble of whimpers and moans, a groan as you watched him take your hips, focused on the way he lost himself inside you, frowning and pursing his lips.

This wasn't just sex, not when you felt the warmth of his hands, the delicacy of his fingers and the way he gave you fleeting glances to make sure you were okay.

“Su-bong” There was something else in the air, something contained in your chest as your hand reached out for his face, the feel of his skin against your palm as he leaned over you, the crease of his cheeks from his smile.

“Here I am” Su-bong covered your hand, lifting it to leave chaste kisses on your palm.

“Don't leave me” you didn't know where that confession had come from, but it was real, as real as your affection for him or his love for you.

“Never” Su-bong pressed his lips against yours, a passionate promise as his hand slid over your center again, moving slowly in circles with just the right pressure, feeling the spasms it caused in you, taking you uphill from ecstasy. It was different, the burning sensation in your lower stomach, the electric tension in your thighs. Your fingernails dug into his back, the crimson traces on his skin from the high he was bringing on in you.

You both moaned erratically, less and less in sync as his movements sped up, his hand never stopping rubbing you. He watched you become a mess under him, arching your back and screaming for more, because something inside you was rising, and rising and accelerating, something strong would pounce if he continued in the same way.

“I love you,” he said, as lost in his own gasps as you were, "and it doesn't matter if you never love me. I will be yours as long as you allow me to show my devotion."

Hot, that's what the skin felt like, that's what his love and his proposal felt like, because he would put his pride aside just to feel you his, to know that he can manage to make you feel wanted. The sensation inside you, the heat in your walls, the pressure of his fingers, everything increased drastically forming that growing core that traveled from your center to your chest, his passion moved strongly as you climbed to the clouds of that oath, everything until you reached the end. The explosion of your core of lust burned in an erratic convulsion, in a restrained moan as you enjoyed the edge. And then the heat, the heat with which Su-bong painted your walls as you clenched around him.

Shy gasps and kisses, all as he pulled out of you slowly, dragging the strings of his passion slipping out of you.

“Are you okay?” Subong fixed the strands of hair covering your forehead, and you just nodded as you caught your breath.

He bent to the floor in search of the vape in his pants, pulling it out and taking a deep puff, lying back down this time with his arm around your shoulders, drawing you to his chest.

There was no need for words, for although neither of you understood the situation, you had discovered how well you worked together, how easily you seemed to melt into mutual compliments and pleasure. Your fingers glided with smooth naturalness over the lines of the tattoo on his chest and abdomen, absorbed in your thoughts, while he seemed to have none useful in his head, smiling and pleased.

He knew your mental tribulations were flooding your head, but he said nothing, just left a kiss in your hair, while he looked up at the ceiling with the vape on his lips and felt your fingers run over his skin. There would be time to meditate and make decisions, for tonight he was pleased that you had let him pour his feelings out on you, because you had finally chosen him.

[violet-eng]

🔞 See you on the other side | Thanos (Choi Su-bong x fem!reader)

I HAVEN'T WRITTEN ANYTHING IN A LONG TIME, VERY ASHAMED OF HOW BADLY WRITTEN OR BASIC THIS MAY BE.

Anyway, I don't know where this came from, I've had this desire for Choi Seunghyun stuck for like 10 years now, somehow I had to get rid of it. I'm still embarrassed…

Awkward plot, as always, I must add drama because if my life is full of drama then the fanfic just the same.

Summary: Fem reader has cancer, her ex is Subong, who asked her for drugs when she was working at the hospital, she gave them to him because they were for his jet lag and dizziness, but things escalate and she ends up fired and he with some sort of dependency. Anyway, they meet again in the squid game and he tries to fix everything with her because he obviously didn't forget her. And OBVIOUSLY for this first fic we have the typical and respectable BATHROOM SCENE.

Warnings 🔞🔥: mentions of cancer, SEX, SMUT, oral fem receiving, fingering. That…

In this fic, Thanos would be behaving somewhat bottom/sub? Is real life T.O.P a bottom? ask jiyong, enjoyyyyyy but not too much

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Three people down, or perhaps it was four? In situations where one's personal safety is compromised, the finer details can appear insignificant. Your hands and legs trembled, and your entire body was a nervous system susceptible to error and misstep. You felt the acceleration of your heartbeat in your throat and ears, echoing in your head, and perspiration running down your cheekbones, the salty sensation in your mouth.

Your eyes turned to the spot where a figure was jumping carefree, holding the surprise in your chest when you saw Subong in the crowd, your Subong. He looked like a hallucination, hovering among the players, jumping over the corpses with a maniacal grin… drugs… your drugs.

The daily game had reached its end. It was shocking that people had died in such a strange way, and there were many questions to be answered. However, the pain was even more overwhelming because cancer was like that: painful, unbearable without medicine, especially in the current circumstances.

'Señorita' the voice was behind you; you felt his presence, the shadow of his figure enveloping you completely, and the scent of his skin and the dye of his hair brought back precious but bitter memories. How much pain love can endure.

'Su-bong', you whispered, though you thought your voice was firm, the nuance was faint and the volume low.

'My baby! What are you doing here?"His arms abruptly embraced you, drawing you into his body, and your cheek bumped against his chest.You felt that familiar, heady feeling of being protected by him — loved.

Away from the crowd, Subong inspects your face, noticing spots of blood that are not yours and a couple of dark circles under your eyes… nothing else.

'You don't look well,' he says with a grimace.

'I need some,' you say, your breathing heavy, your eyes watering, your gaze beseeching, 'You owe me. I got them for you.'

He does not take you up on your request, nor does he attempt to argue with you, because he knows that is one of the reasons you lost your medical licence.

'Say "Aaah"'.

He brings one of his hands in front of you, a colourful pill between his fingers, and slowly touches your lower lip to make you open your mouth.His fingers enter, and your tongue takes the pill, but habit, treacherous habit, appears and your tongue tastes his fingers. A touch of what you had been.

Your eyes meet his as you both reminisce about the good times you shared during your relationship. When you two were an item, he would gently slide his fingers into your mouth, and within moments, you would be caught up in a passionate embrace, him on top of you, making love from behind while whispering a range of compliments in your ear.

'Better?' he inquires, his fingers gently tracing the lips around your mouth. You nod as the memory fades. You feel as if you've tasted a taste of normality, something you haven't enjoyed in years.

The night after games and food, you feel heavy and lethargic. You sweat and shiver, and you realise that it is a reaction of your body. You had treated several patients like this for years, and the helplessness of becoming one had made you fall into a very dark place, almost abandoning yourself.

"Bathroom" you request one of the guards, but your voice is not as steady as your gaze. The guard declines, and you consider that if you had a pen with you, you would have moved him out of your way, as you did with the insurance agent who had refused to cover your chemotherapy.

"It's urgent. I just want to freshen up" you insist, aware that in your position you can't make demands like that.

‘Hey bro, she has cancer, if it was your sister or your mother would you treat her like this?’ Subong appears at the right moment, after having watched you for a long time, “look at her, she can't even stand up”.

He places his arm around you and shakes you vigorously, as if manipulating a rag doll. His methods are deceptively straightforward, yet his success is unparalleled.Even if you had been in optimal health, he would have still prevailed.

You wash your face and pour water on the back of your neck, observing the reflection in the mirror. Your bruised features bear little resemblance to the respectable oncologist you used to be.

Subong's drugs have effectively mitigated your feelings of rejection, causing all sentiments towards the person in the mirror to dissipate within moments. Although you don't recognize yourself, you feel a sense of rejuvenation, as if returning to a state of strength and painlessness.

Subong approaches you, resting his chin on your shoulder, leaning his hands against the sink. You feel his breath in your ear and the soft brush of his lips on your neck, his kisses below your ear, at the precise spot that makes your skin bristle, reminiscent of their days together.

Subong's voice, husky and subtle, with sweet undertones, asks, "Feeling better?" The enigma that is Subong: he seems impenetrable and stoic when he raps, yet under the stage he is a sensitive and playful creature, always with a striking look and a touch of madness.

"Better," you reply, looking in the mirror and observing the closeness between the two of you, as if time hasn't passed, as if you were never done with him, as if your souls weren't on a tightrope drifting off to who knows where. You experience a sense of longing for him, the intimacy, the warmth of his embrace, the soft rhythm of his breathing, the way his lips cling to your skin without kissing you, as if it causes him discomfort to touch you, as if you were made of porcelain.

"When we make that money, I'll pay for your chemotherapy," he says. His voice is masculine and deep, rough, and his eyes are like fogged glass, intrinsically wounded by your illness as if it were his own.

"What about your debts?" you inquire, turning to him, cradling his face in your hands, him still leaning on the sink behind you.

He bends down to look at you blearily, and with a smirk, almost cartoonishly, he says, "Fuck the debt. I only care about your well-being. I'll see who I'll take his share from."

This provokes laughter from you, which you hadn't experienced in nearly a year. The corners of your lips ache, and the sensation of your cheeks expanding sends shivers down your skin.

Subong remarks, "There it is," as he touches the tip of your nose. "My girl's cute laugh." His fingers trace the contours of your lips, evoking memories on your skin with his touch, and reviving sensations you thought were lost.

He knows how to make you feel good, how to tease you, and how to be gentle because he knows your body wouldn't be able to handle it if he used all his strength.It's like when you went to the bars -the body remembers, so you move naturally from soft kisses and panting to one of the cubicles.

Your pants are on the floor, your underwear is around one of your ankles, and you are sitting on the toilet seat.Subong is skilled at rapping, which allows his tongue to glide with delight. He breathes softly as he holds his face between your legs.His fingers glide up your thighs, tracing ancient marks with his thumbs, while his tongue paints your velvety walls with his devotion.

You intertwine your fingers in his hair, your head thrown back, your eyes rolling back as the combination of drugs and his adept tongue takes hold. You hear him emit a low, throaty sound as you discreetly disengage from his grasp and press his face against yours, his nose brushing against your sensitive area.

You inhale his scent, the rhythm of your heart accelerating, and you feel the warmth of his fingers between your legs. His fingers begin to brush against your folds, and you recognize the familiarity of this touch.

"I don't think I can bear it," you whisper, pulling him away from you. Your hands are in his hair, your eyes fixed on his, which are black and smiling as his tongue wipes his chin. His tanned skin is glistening with the crystals of your juices.

"I promise to be gentle. I will make you feel good, baby." The dichotomy of sweetness of his face and the naughtiness of his fingers exploring your womanhood plunges you into an unknown territory somewhere between amusement and discretion.He enjoys seeing the way you squirm at his touch, at his fingers delving inside you and roaming over formerly dominated territory.

He swiftly locates your sensitive areas, his fingers pressing firmly into your body. His fingers disappear into your ecstasy, and you begin to rhythmically shake your hips, in harmony with the intruders testing your last reserves of sanity.

"So… ohhh-"

Subong looks at you satisfied as you begin to chant incoherently. He has always loved to please you, and that's why he has been so devoted to your body, learning every nook and cranny and experimenting with his movements to achieve the perfect reaction of your being, which is now destroyed under his fingers.

"More," you moan, gripping his shoulders with your nails, and he, your devoted instrument of pleasure, takes you to the edge of losing yourself in your own pleasure, of feeling every electric fiber of your body.

"Don't hold back."The rough voice and soft tongue are in full effect, and you can feel your body responding with heightened sensation. Your voice is almost a scream, your teeth holding back your lips, and your shoulders tensing as it reaches its peak, and then it explodes inside you. You exhale hard, your legs wrapping around his head, your hands in his hair, almost tearing out his locks.

"Shit," he laughs, as you shudder and catch your breath. "When you heal, I'll do you better. I promise." He rises to kiss you, his tongue touching the roof of your mouth, and your own taste bathes your tongue.

"How did you know I had cancer?" you know this is not the time to ask, and yet you do.He smiles over your lips as he kisses you.

"When I went to see you at the hospital, they told me you had been arrested by the police for stabbing an insurance agent during your chemotherapy," he says over you, proud as he wipes traces of saliva from your chin.

"You knew my medical license had been taken away. Why did you look for me at the hospital?"

"I wanted to beg your forgiveness. I would ask one of your old friends for her phone to call you, you would have answered them," he said, kneeling down to pull your panties up.

"I am sorry I blocked your number."

"It's all in the past," he says, smiling up from the floor and wiping his lip with his thumb. "It was good," he continues, "when we get out of here, you can unblock me."

"Do you believe we'll survive this?" you pull up your pants and escort him out of the cubicle.

"I'm not certain of anything, but if anything happens, I'll see you on the other side," he says, taking your hand in his and stroking the back of your skin.

"See you on the other side…"

[violet-eng]

Wife!fem!reader thinks Loid is cheating on her. | NSFW 🔞

So... guess who saw Code White?

Based on the sad and humiliating premise of Code White, where you, Loid's wife-for-hire, think he has a mistress. And you suspect even more when your friends put ideas in your head.

Warning: short. Seriously. Short. Also 🔞 mdni. Exhibitionism? Pussy digging on the train. And just that...

Wk: 800? Not edited btw.

If you want more Loid, check this.

🍃🌱🌿🍵🍃🌱🌿🍵🍃🌱🌿

You'd seen him on that woman in the alley, his hands on her and his torso covering her, as close as you'd like him to be with you in public.

Your relationship with Loid is complicated, a marriage of convenience between the two of you to raise a child you suspect is not even his. A nuanced marriage of blurred contours, with under-the-table displays of affection or hushed sighs in your shared bedroom at night. During the day, however, those wilted displays of affection dampened the passion between the two of you and your feelings for him, or so you thought, until you saw him in that alley.

Then he had come home that night, before you, and proposed the idea of traveling as a family. First sign of infidelity: sporadic trips. Though taking you with him seemed like an oversight, you couldn't sleep that night, not with the thought of Loid thinking about any woman but you.

You watched him sleep next to you, blond curls against the pillow, white shirt snug against his toned arms, and you lamented that you were not the woman who enjoyed his abundant affection and total devotion. You were frustrated that you were only a sporadic lay, a means to relieve stress, though you had to admit that you were using him for your own purposes as well. Sex without love, an arranged marriage like any other.

So you lay on the train and watched Anya struggle with her schoolwork. And then, green flag, the girl goes to the bathroom, leaving you and Loid alone. He picks up Anya's notebook, frowning as he tries to decipher his supposed daughter's handwriting, and you, in an insane outburst, finding yourself fascinated by the gestures of your very attractive husband, caress his leg with your foot. First, from the ankle to the knee, slowly and seductively, while you look at him with your chin resting on your hands and your head cocked to one side, hoping to elicit even the slightest reaction from him.

Nothing.

You watch him carefully, your foot trying to push his knees apart, all in silence until a sound comes from his lips:

"You're kind of anxious," not what you expected to hear, and worse, you find it humiliating that he says it to you in that low tone of voice he only uses when you're alone in bed, the one he knows melts your legs.

You cross your arms, annoyed at yourself for acting like a hormonal teenager, and at him for reprimanding you, or so you think, until you feel his foot slide up your leg.

Bingo.

Anya takes a while in the bathroom, and you both know you have plenty of time. That's why he's sitting next to you, his chest against your back and one of his hands resting on the window pane. You watch the beautiful landscape stretching out in front of you as you blur the window with every sigh Loid draws from you. His fingers are between your legs, his hand has cleverly slipped under the waistband of your skirt and your panties.

You cling to his arm, trying to control the spasms of your body from the circular motion of his fingers on your pussy. But you find it impossible, especially when he kisses your neck and whispers nonsense against your skin.

"Loid… mhhh" you whisper as you turn to face him and find his head resting on your shoulder, his eyes completely closed as he enjoys the wet sound of your center being stirred by his fingers, "Do you have another woman?"

Your question takes him by surprise, but not enough to stop him from pleasuring you.

"If I had another woman, would I be here having me in your pussy?". He answers you as matter-of-factly as if his words were not as inappropriate as his actions.

The orgasm hits you just as the locomotive whistle turns into a high-pitched scream. Loid holds you tight as your body tenses and your legs stretch. You fall into his embrace and feel a kiss on your temple.

"There will never be another woman," he tells you in a soft, gentle tone as his hand strokes your hair, "only you, only and only you, my darling".

🍃🌱🌿🍵🍃🌱🌿🍵🍃🌱🌿

If you want more Loid, check this

[violet-eng]

Fem!reader married to a Neuvillette who loves not her but someone else | NSFW 🔞 + 😢

In this one I'm going out on a limb, because I presume without any argument other than my own intuition, that Neuvillette and Focalors had a platonic relationship with feelings never confessed out of fear or genuine ignorance of them (like Violet Evergarden, yes). But you are Neuvillette's wife and so you will fall victim to his coldness when Focalors dies.

Includes NSFW with the reader and angst. Never mistreatment because Neuvi is a gentleman. NOTHING BETWEEN FOCALORS/FURINA AND NEUVI NONONO

⚠️ Warnings: established relationship between Neuvillette and reader, implied cheating, unloving and unprotected sex, pregnancy, sex during pregnancy, mentions of masturbation. Mentions of death. More sex between spouses bc yes.

mndi, if you feel unconfortable reading this then don't. Your mental health is first.

6k words, not edited.

💧💧💧💧💙💙💙💙💙💙💙🔹️🔹️🔹️🔹️🔹️💧💧💧💧💧💙💙💙💙🔹️🔹️🔹️

You had seen him crestfallen the last few weeks, after the flood, self-conscious in his own thoughts, drowning in his remorse and cowardice.

Neuvillette does not understand human feelings, not at all, though love is supposed to be a passion that transcends the natural laws of evolution. Focalors had been his friend, his companion, in the bruised body of a puppet that felt so real that its strings seemed invisible.

There was no denying the deep affection that had grown between the two, Neuvillette and Focalors, two wandering souls, roaming the world with ancestral antiquity, companions destined to the sound of agony and separation, haunted by the solemn ignorance of innocent creatures.

Love… what was it but a word in a spoken contract.

Neuvillette had married you months ago, a happy and superficially authentic marriage. You had captured his attention, and his knowledge of humans, as the Great Chief Justice, could be satiated by knowing you, a faithful human companion, devoted wife, and sublime lover.

The bed was the only moment where you two connected, where, to the rhythm of the waves, Neuvillette penetrated his marital responsibility towards your depths, that which he considered appropriate towards his so-called wife, who, in a frenzy of pleasure, crushed his pale back with her nails, set to music by the melodious moans he tore from your sweaty breast… There was no connection beyond the sexual, for as a dragon, despite the years, it is very difficult for him to connect with humans.

Focalors was an oceanid, and he was a dragon sovereign. Both turned human. Nothing more to add, two rulers abandoned by the world they were supposed to protect, what would grow between them but pure trust and admiration that would obviously develop into love?

Neuvillette didn't understand. Not until that moment. He had been deaf to his innocent heart pounding anxiously every time Focalors entered his office in her unruly human form, rampant in color and expression. He had been unaware of the flame of satisfaction in his chest that burned hot when she spoke to him in the privacy of their conversations in the theater…he did not understand, not until he understood that he would eventually lose her.

He cried, for the first time he let someone see him cry in his human form. Focalor's words, so exquisite before him, ethereal in her ornate louvered dress, echoed in his head…and in his heart… ….

"Hydrodragon, Hydrodragon… don't cry," she whispered… and he, very reluctant to leave her, wished with all his might to leap upon her, wrap her in his arms and never let her go. He would flee with her on his lap, in his draconic form, leaving Fontaine and everyone else to their fate.

No… a Sovereign would not do that… he would not do that… for to abandon his oath would deserve the most dastardly punishment of all. And maybe, just for thinking that, he deserved what happened next.

"Farewell, Neuvillette," her words, pure in his human form. His companion, his friend, his mentor… his soul mate, tossed away like the foam on the shore of a beach.

Death was a human concept, without transcendence over evolution… love, however, was another story.

He came home like a soldier after the war, he came back without a part of himself… he came back to his boring life married to a woman he doesn't even love, at least not the way you really deserve him.

"Darling," you offer him a glass of fresh spring water from Quiaoying Village, because you know he doesn't like anything else, especially in dark times like these, a glass of the freshest, coldest water suits him wonderfully.

He drinks from the glass, almost as stoic as ever, though his face is stiffer than usual. Routine is becoming overwhelming for both of you, and Neuvillette is suspiciously distant from you, more so than usual. You stroke his cheek while he sleeps to help him fall asleep, you make him breakfast in the mornings and serve him dinner when he comes home, all without so much as a hello.

You suspect the worst, because your friends have planted the idea in your head that Neuvillette has a mistress, and not far from the truth, his heart belongs to another.

After the flood, many had left Fontaine, and perhaps your husband's mistress was among them, or so you thought. How painful it had been for you to see him break for another woman, to see him crack at his most human for a heart that was not yours.

Overwhelmed, you write him a letter with the idea of leaving him and traveling to Sumeru with one of your friends in search of a new life, but everything is cut short when your symptoms begin. Pregnancy was imminent, after all the nights the Iudex had taken you into your bed, it was to be expected.

You receive Neuvillette that night, frustrated by your own doubts, debating between informing him of your condition or simply fleeing to new horizons with your child. It is so difficult to decide when your husband is the Iudex of Fontaine… and when you care about his reputation because you love him sincerely.

There is no need to search for words when your husband is a dragon with keen senses, for as soon as he set foot in the house, he sensed the scent of his brood stirring within you. The Iudex's interest, however, lay in whether or not you would confess to him.

"A package arrived for you this afternoon," Neuvillette comments as he sips the tea you prepared for him, pointing to a bag on the front table.

"Ah, yes," you say half-heartedly, taking the bag in your hands, emotions spilling from your chest as you crumple the paper between your fingers.

You sigh deeply, thinking that maybe this gift is your way of saying goodbye to him, of silently making amends and apologizing for something that is absolutely not your fault other than falling in love with the wrong man.

You take out of the bag an encyclopedia, a thick book with thick paste and yellow pages, brought from Sumeru, recommended by the very scribe of the Academya, a book of human anthropology for your dear strange husband, who seems to have a real interest in human behavior. Neuvillette looks at it as if it were a revelation, as incredulous as he is moved, touched by your gift and your attention to his interests. You try to say something, to tell him that you are pregnant, but you stop when you hear him speak.

"I know you're expecting my child," Neuvillette says, without going into the details of how he found out, touching the rim of the teacup, a wedding gift. "Whatever you need, tell me, health, food, you know I will cover all expenses."

"I want to go to Sumeru," you confess in an almost whispered tone, your words seeming to be carried away by the wind rushing through the window.

"That wouldn't be good," for a Hydro Dragon hatchling, of course it wouldn't. "You're too young to venture into a new nation, especially one with new leaders like Sumeru, not to mention the dry climate."

You don't argue, knowing he's right, and decide to simply retreat to your room and wallow in your defeat.

Neuvillette, however, with what little empathy he has generated, caresses the book with his fingertips, gliding over the fine markings carved into the cover.

A gift, he had never given you a gift before, but you had given him a gift by taking the initiative.

The months passed quickly. The precariousness of your relationship, increasingly dry on your part, provokes something in Neuvillette.

He looks at you from his side of the bed, the way you sleep peacefully with a swollen belly, carrying his little dragon without knowing it, without trying to get rid of it, loving it from the first moment. Neuvillette has seen you singing lullabies to your child these past few months, reading him stories while caressing your belly, telling him how much you want him to be born strong and healthy.

He's grateful for the deep affection you have for your child, so much so that he has tried to show it. Maybe what he read in the book worked, or maybe it is just a product of his new feelings for his wife, who is about to become a mother. He would do anything for your son to be born healthy and with a healthy mother.

He buys you fritters on the way home, from the store he found out you like best, courtesy of some Melusine, and sits next to you at the dinner table, trying to take an interest in your day and tell you about his, always aiming for your peace, a healthy heart would bring a healthy child.

His devotion is to the birth of your child, because that's what he tells himself. It's not that he was interested in you, of course not… it's not like he was surprised when you told him your clothes were too tight and you hated your new body, not when he likes to see your new figure when you lie next to him at night, with enlarged breasts and a round belly. He bought you new clothes, yes, by the boatload, but because that's what any husband would do.

He only appreciates you for being the mother of his child, it's not like his heart fluttered when he saw you helping some melusines with their problems, or coddling some baby of your friends, thinking what a wonderful mother you will soon be. It's not like h chest filled with pride when he saw you in the stores looking for maternity books and baby clothes, worrying about the weather and your child's health.

And it's definitely not like he's masturbating in his office, remembering the image of you undressing that morning to get into the tub, cutting the skin of your arms and breasts, moaning at the contact of the warm water against your body, and letting out a sigh of deep satisfaction.

That night, he comes home with the usual everyday gift, this time a box of macaroons, because he noticed that you were looking at them in the display case with great eagerness during the afternoon. And he sits down at the table with you, pours you a cup of tea and starts the conversation, even though he notices that you are much more tired than usual.

He carries you into the bedroom and helps you into your nightgown, taking the opportunity to caress your waist and back as he helps the fabric slide over your curves. And then he strokes your head to help you fall asleep, and without realizing it, he smiles as he sees you fast asleep next to him.

The birth is approaching and the strong pains make you desperate, confined to your room and reluctant to go out even to sunbathe. It was the midwife who unscrupulously suggested to Neuvillette that a little sexual activity would help you get through the contractions. And he, as devoted to his wife's health as any good husband, agrees.

You feel Neuvillette's cock thrust deep into you, deep into your velvety walls, soft and slow, not unlike what you've felt before. His hands rest on the sides of your head, his gaze fixed on his cock disappearing inside you, while you curl your legs at the delicious sensation of his thick appendage inside your pussy. He moves cautiously, sharply, trying not to hurt you, and as he pumps inside you, his gaze is lost on your breasts, bouncing to the rhythm of his gentle thrusts.

"Perfect," he whispers through his teeth, because in his eyes you are the perfect reservoir for his brood, yes, just that… he insists that you are simply his good companion, and pretends that he hasn't wanted to have you like this for weeks, under him, a mess between moans pinned to him as you cling to his arms.

"Monsieur~" you whimper, bringing a hand to your face to cover your expression, though he takes your wrist and looks at your face as if you were a treasure just discovered by a hungry, ambitious man.

When you reach your orgasm, he kisses you, for the first time during sex, Neuvillette kisses you, and even he surprises himself with his own actions. He washes your body and dresses you before you rest, now much calmer than before, sinking into your husband's chest as you fall asleep, ignoring the feelings that surface between the two of you.

When the child is born, Neuvillette is surprised to continue his affection for you. He did not fall into the same materialism as before, because now he recognized in the shared work of the novices how difficult it was to take care of a baby. It is he who washes the child because, to your surprise, he knows the strange need for fresh water that your baby requires at least twice a day. Neuvillette enjoys the laughter that you get from your child, and the way that he lifts his arms so that you can hold him and show him how well you are feeding him, he looks strong and healthy.

One day, as he was leaving the Opera Epiclese, he was distracted by the statue of the Focalors, but his attention was immediately drawn to the babbling exclamations of his son, who was waving in your arms near the fountain. How gratifying is that moment when his heart leaps with joy as he sees you holding his child.

The days have been sunny in Fontaine since your son was born, and to Neuvillette's relief, the bitter memories of his separation from the Focalors are just that, memories… past images that he does not cherish, as he knows humans do, not now that his being is entirely devoted to his mate and his brood. What kind of elixir have you become for him, that he can forget all his sorrows and his past loves?

Neuvillette spends hours in his office poring over the pages of the book you gave him months ago, highlighting this thing called melancholy, the longing for past situations and desires, and feeling sorry for those who feel it, because if it were a disease, he would call himself cured of this melancholy.

He finds it curious how you managed to get rid of all the gloomy feelings that plagued him, and even wonders if you are not some kind of sorceress… No, not you, not when you so devotedly cleanse your child and offer him a carefully prepared dinner, and practically put your heart and soul into every act of domesticity.

Focalors… her name and image sail through the ancient memories of Neuvillette's tattered mind, the smile of a woman he loved, now replaced by that of the one who lies beside him, coddling a bright-eyed, rosy-cheeked child. Funny how in such a short time he had acquired such human habits as feeling part of a family he hadn't even planned to have.

Your relationship with Neuvillette, full of respect and admiration, help and companionship, seems to evolve into something more. You become his confidant, his mentor when he has doubts about human children or about the customs between parents and children. Involuntarily, he comes to you when he has questions, not to a library, for despite your young mortal age, you know much more than books could ever give him.

You are patient with his ignorance and loving when he is wrong. Mutual and pure respect, absolute devotion and admiration. Neuvillette doesn't believe you are human, how can you be human with so many virtues… his curiosity grows and changes, so much so that he counts the hours in court to come home and chat with you while you nurse his child.

He returns home that night with new doubts, because he has seen strange devices for children without understanding their usefulness, called fun. Can they have fun by themselves? Aren't they too young for that?…oh, and he brings a storybook, because he understands that made-up stories are interesting for babies, even if they don't understand much of the language.

He goes to the baby's room with an enthusiasm he doesn't know he has, and stops at the door when he hears you soothing your baby's cry with sweet words.

"Hydro-Dragon, Hydro-Dragon, don't cry," you murmur as you caress your child's cheek and try to feed him.

Your child is frantically breastfeeding, his tears fading as he closes his bright purple eyes, his little hands clenched into fists and his nose twitching. Neuvillette watches the whole scene from the doorway, his heart in his throat and his feelings on his skin. Those words that broke his soul so long ago now seem to put the pieces of his shattered existence back together.

He smiles, a melancholy, self-satisfied smile. And he looks at you, he looks at you with devotion, because you have finally made him understand what he feels and has felt for so many months. His devoted wife, as patient as she is charming… seems wiser and more skillful than any scholar.

Leaving your child in its cradle, you straighten your neck and turn to Neuvillette, who has entered the room.

"What a beautiful book," you murmur, picking it up, "the baby will love it.

Neuvillette watches you with one hand on the crib that protects his baby, then watches his son sleep, wrinkling his nose the way you do when you sleep.

"You must be exhausted," he whispers, stroking your arm and leading you out of the baby's room.

"Not at all," you smile, "the child fills me with vitality."

"So… Hydro Dragon," Neuvillette recalls the words you said to his baby.

"I said it when I was a girl, like everyone else in Fontaine, it was an idea that came to me suddenly," you answer, and he smiles at your expression, thinking that maybe he heard you when you were a girl, maybe you were one of the many children who recited the same words when it rained in Fontaine.

"I have to tell you something," Neuvillette says, his voice lacking authority, more like a prayer. You watch him from the kitchen.

"'Tell me.

Focalors, Neuvillette, Furina, Fontaine's hydrodragon, the flood, his never-confessed love… he tells you everything because he understands that you deserve the truth, and that he doesn't deserve you because you're too understanding of his confession. It is as if this conversation has cleared up all your doubts, and you have finally seen the real Neuvillette, who fully trusts you to know what to do with this information.

Neuvillette believes that you will ask him for a divorce and leave him alone with his son, but he is surprised to find you preparing breakfast the next morning with your child tied to your leg while you both laugh.

He does not deserve you, definitely not, for he is perhaps the most despicable man in Fontaine and all of Teyvat. To think of another while he is married, to take his wife with him in a grief that is not hers, to bind her to him forever by impregnating her… how mean he must have been, and how understanding you become as his selfishness grows.

He hugs you from behind, buries his face in your neck, inhales your scent and clings to your waist. He begs for forgiveness countless times, and you feel that he may have already shed a few tears on your shoulder, because the sky suddenly begins to cloud over.

"There's nothing to forgive," you whisper, stroking his head, "we can't choose who we fall in love with."

He looks at you in disbelief, wondering in what book he would find such an accurate statement. You had fallen in love with him, and he finally understands, for you are both victims of the disorderly course of love, so messy in its actions, indifferent to those it hurts.

He thinks about your words as he sits in his office, as he looks at the framed photograph he has of you holding his son, and wonders when he fell into the trap of the reckless love that humans call it.

The name of the Focalors does not mean anything to him anymore, even less when he sees Lady Furina in boutiques or restaurants… surely a memory has finally become just that, a memory. His heart is now the prey of another person, his wife, the mother of his son.

Neuvillette understands that there is a difference between soul mates, first love, and true love. The connection with Focalors had been imminent years ago, as both were unaware of the actions of the society in which they had become intruders, but they were nothing more than that, accomplices in a game of masks and power, the first experience of mutual affection and trust. Focalors was his soulmate, yes, because she understood firsthand everything he experienced, but being a living part of her theater did not feel authentic.

With you, however, Neuvillette had learned to be a part of his people, whether as a human or a dragon, as Chief Justice or as the father of an infant. He was no longer an intruder or a stranger ignorant of human ways, not after you. At your side, Neuvillette had known a new range of sensations, of experiences and learning based on mistakes, all very human on his part, and as expected, he had learned to fall in love again, because it was inevitable, after several problems and misunderstandings between the two of you, after the birth of his son and the new horizons that fatherhood brought. His affection for you had been disguised as admiration and redemption, his ignorance had once again avoided love, a mistake he wanted to make up for.

Sitting in your living room while he reads a book and you braid his hair and hum a lullaby, Neuvillette lets the waves of your voice carry him away, wondering what kind of marital experiences he had missed with you.

"What kind of things do husbands do?" He asks suddenly, looking up at you from the carpeted floor, surprising you with his curious question.

"Well…" you think, it's not like when he asks you why kids suck their thumbs or why people give each other presents on non-holidays. It's not a question about trivial human behavior, not this time.

"I've seen couples go out to dinner, but you told me that friends also go out to dinner," he continues, elaborating on his puzzle. "Wriothesley and I have had tea together, what would be the difference between having tea with him and with you?"

"Well…" you continue to think about your answer. "Perhaps the most obvious is living together, planning the week together, household and food expenses, child care, and confidentiality between the two. When you and I have tea, we talk about things that you probably don't mention to Wriothesley".

" Certainly," he says with a hand on his chin, "you and I do all those things, but how is that different from students who share a house? They also plan expenses and discuss confidences."

"Then I guess the biggest difference is in starting a family. Normally, people get married because they want to have a family with the person they choose, the person they love, or the person their parents impose on them."

"So sex is what differentiates married people," he says, and you remain static at his words, stopping to braid his hair, "of course… the physical and emotional affection shown by both parties in marriage…" Neuvillette rambles on, his own conclusion as he sits on the couch next to you, thinking about how he hasn't shown his affection the way he should.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, you are distracted by the details of your skirt, picking out rebellious threads, and then he thinks about the last time he kissed you and wonders what it would be like to kiss someone with marital affection.

"Can I kiss you?" The question is thrown out with innocence, causing surprise in you.

"You've kissed me before, Neuvillette," you say, smiling and getting up to go into the kitchen, "we even have a son, I don't think there's anything new to try."

"Indeed," he says, getting up and walking toward you, your back against one of the walls, "but the variable that makes this situation different from the others is that I didn't feel that way about you."

"Like what?" you ask, as he moves closer to you, almost cornering you against the wall.

"I like thinking about you, being with you, hearing you talk," he says, his tone low, as if he were ashamed to confess everything to you. "I thought it was a simple instinct to care for you as the mother of my child… but now I know it's something deeper than that."

You look at him in surprise, now it is you who has unknowns that only he can answer. The silence between you is cold and almost tactile.

"What about her? Of the Archon," you whisper, your breath depending on the question, Neuvillette's forehead inches from yours.

"It's not the same. There is no excitement or desire. I never longed for her or desired her like you. She didn't provoke me the way you did, it's almost annoying."

"Am I annoying? "Is that what she's telling me, Judge?" You smile as you touch the tip of his nose, trying to take some of the seriousness out of the conversation.

"You are adorably hypnotic, I must say. More than you should be. You have taken everything from me without me even realizing it, subtly and carefully taking over my mind and my heart," Neuvillette's hands caress your cheek, high above your skin, avoiding friction as if his touch would bruise your flawless complexion.

"Let me show you these human feelings that have taken over me, please," he whispers, his thumb sliding over your lower lip. He says it almost like a complaint, his bursting emotions becoming painful, trapped in his chest, longing for you to give him comfort and permission to act.

"I'll let you… only if you promise me something," you say, taking his hand, avoiding the marks of his fingers on you. "You will never push me aside for another woman again…"

His oath needs no words, not when he has you leaning against the kitchen table, his cock pushing behind you to your cervix. Your muffled moans as he adjusts your skirt over your waist and spreads your legs further to give him free access to your pussy, which sucks him contemptuously.

Neuvillette feels like a fantasy, thrusting relentlessly into you, touching the bulge that has formed in your belly from the penetration of his cock, pushing with his hand so you can feel it better, eliciting a high-pitched moan from you. . He kisses your cheek and you hear his muffled moans against your ear as he utters words of worship.

You grip the marble edge of the table, moaning at the burning building in your belly, your eyes glassy and spit falling from your mouth. It's as if your legs were lifeless, as if you were prey to Neuvillette and the way he drives his love for you so deep that it seems to stir your womb.

That afternoon he takes you in the kitchen, and the next morning he doesn't let you get out of bed, one hand on the headboard and the other around your waist, Neuvillette has you with your ass up like a dog in heat, hitting your slippery with his length. The strength that his support gives you is hard to bear, your breasts trembling strongly as your ass bounces to his rhythm, your skin moving like waves in the sea with each vibration that Neuvillette's relentless interference causes.

His hand slides down your body, caressing your breasts and down to your clit, your face buried in the pillows, almost crying at how good his fingers feel on your nervous lump. He fills you with his seed when he reaches orgasm, because he is dying to see you again with your belly swollen for his offspring. And he kisses you again, he kisses your forehead while you catch your breath, while you cover your body that has been bruised by his fingers, defining the lustful path of his digits over your body.

In his office, he remembers the past hours with fanciful lust and longs to return home to enjoy this new activity that you have made him experience, this new addiction that your body represents against his. He longs for your company and your warmth, your voice moaning with pleasure and the way your nails dig into his back. He adores everything about you, not only because you are the mother of his child, but because he finally understands, after several months of reading and reflection, that he has truly fallen in love with you, his precious human wife.

[violet-eng]

fem!reader studies Neuviotter! | Fluff 🧸 with Otter Neuvillette… 🔞with Human Neuvillette.

Summary: You're a Sumeru's researcher obsessed with Fontaine otters. So you basically adopt one... unfortunately it looks like that isn't an otter at all...

Warning: 🔞 MDNI. ALL SMUT IS WITH HUMAN NEUVILLETTE! Somnophilia, oral (fem! Receiving), p i v. Unprotected sex.

1.8k words.

Not edited.

⏜︵⊹︵⊹︵⏜︵୨୧︵⏜⊹︵⏜︵⊹︵⏜

The prestige of your research precedes you. A diligent student with a flamboyant gait, brilliant ideals and precise knowledge. You arrive at Fontaine from the Sumeru Academy with a precedent never seen before, with your lively, attentive eyes and your notebooks covered in leather the same color as your eyes.

Word spreads immediately that the wise y/n, scholar of the Academia, has come to Fontaine to study a creature that has captured your attention to leave the green land for that of the primordial sea. Could it be that you want to study a mythical creature that lives in underwater caves? Or perhaps a glorious bird has captured your thirst for knowledge?

How surprised your guides were when you shouted with excitement, unable to contain your joy like a little girl, when you spotted a little otter poking its head out of the crystal clear water. You jumped up and down, unable to contain your happiness, exclaiming how amazed you were to see one so close.

Alone, you photograph the otter and go so far as to dive underwater with it, surprised more by how clever it is than by your new curious ability to breathe underwater. What a joy it is to find a group of creatures frolicking with a clam in their midst, spinning in the water and turning to look at you. You may have been down there for an hour.

Back on the surface, sitting on a rock with your feet in the water, you jot down the details in your notebook, tracing with the vague lines of a sketch the elusive shape of the little animals. Concentrating on your task, on defining the details of its snout, you notice on the other bank an otter, different from the others, grooming its head with its small hands.

You watch it carefully, the creature seems a little larger than the others, slender and almost like a gentleman...

"A gentleman otter," you whisper, enraptured by the delicate and magnificent figure grooming itself in front of you. 

The otter makes sounds as he wipes his own face, lying on the surface of the water, carving his features and nose, while his two gnawing teeth peek through his pearly fur. Its small hands wash its own belly, almost ironing its fur as if it were the robe of a great lord. Deeply adorable. You hastily sketch the picture in front of you, not missing a tender detail of the cuddly toy floating carefree on the calm current.

The otter watches you with a lost look, black eyes that seem not to contain a single thought. The bliss of the ignorant. And you wave at him from your rock with a smile.

The otter swims toward you, and when he's within striking distance, he watches you, as if studying you. 

"How smart you look," you say, clutching your notebook to your chest, "and very adorable. Look at you," you show him the drawing.

The otter stares at the paper with a certain analysis, but his unmistakable expression doesn't change. Then he seems to comb an invisible curl out of his furry head and approves your sketch with a formal nod.

"What a gentleman," you squeal, climbing down from your rock and returning to get your things. The otter emerges from the water, shaking his body to dry himself from the water, though he remains fluffy.

"I thought you were waterproof," you laugh at the sight of the expressionless furball, seemingly oblivious to his adorable embarrassment, "you're different, aren't you?" you approach him with a rag, trying to dry him.

You pull him onto your lap, paws up and his belly exposed as you dry his chest with your cloth, as if he were a baby. Then you wipe his little hands and then his paws. His face is now dry. The otter played with your bracelets, making funny noises and showing his little pearly teeth.

"Do you like it?" you ask, putting it down. The Otter nods enthusiastically. "It would look very cute on you," you add, taking off one of your bracelets and placing it around his neck.

The elastic of the bracelet is lost in his white fur, and the pendant stands out as if it were the clasp of a breastplate. 

"You're missing a hat, and you could pass for another Fontaine gentleman," you exclaim, pleased with the result, as the otter poses like an elegant gentleman, his small chest puffed out, almost proud of how adorable he looks.

"It's getting dark, I should get back now. See you another day, Mr. Otter," you say, slinging your bag over your shoulder and waving your hand.

The otter hurries to follow in your footsteps, prancing subtly near you, his wet nose brushing against your ankle.

"You want to come with me, huh?" you kneel before him, and he touches your nose with his paw. "Fine, fine. We'll have a sleepover."

The place you're staying in is small but cozy, and it gets even cozier when you turn on the heat and put food on the table. The otter sits in a chair across from you, on a mountain of books, and tastes several of the snacks you've served him, though you see him going crazy over some consomme purete and the big glass of pure spring water you've served him.

"You like that, I noticed," you say.

"Burp," the otter replies with a burp that he seems to regret immediately.

"You have more manners than many people," you tell him, wiping his whiskers with a napkin.

"Okay, I'll brush your teeth and then off to bed," you say happily, with the idea of reading to the little animal before bedtime.

You sit him on your sink in front of the mirror, lift his jaw and brush his teeth with your toothbrush and toothpaste, first one side and then the other, make him drink some water and then spit it out, although he swallows it.

"Not your thing to waste water, apparently."

The otter nods.

Then you brush his head, chest, back, and tail, letting him groom himself, and when you try to remove the pin, he hides it in his small hands.

"Okay, okay... I'll leave it to you," you smile.

And then you lie in bed with him in your arms, illuminated by the dim light of your lamp, holding a book with an adventure story in it. You read aloud to him, stopping when you hear him whistling and snoring. 

"Good night, Gentleman Otter," you kiss him on the forehead before turning off the light and going to sleep. ....

You're not one to dream, not at all, but ever since you came to Fontaine, you couldn't help but have these nightly fantasies about Iudex Neuvillette. That stoic and serious man, how good his face would look contorted with pleasure as you sucked his cock.

You had dreamed of a similar situation many times, you had dreamed of him against you as he pinned your frail figure against his desk and thrust into you, biting your lower lip. You had had your first fantasy after a trial, thinking how manly he would look behind you, his cock buried in your ass....

All those dreams had been vivid fantasies, and tonight's took the prize.

You lay on your bed, him biting your neck as he rests behind you, his hands playing with your breasts at his whim, his tongue sliding over your skin, enjoying the nectar of your pure complexion, his cock swollen against your clothed ass.

"Mmmmhhhh, Monsieur~" you moan, writhing in his grip.

The wonderful thing about these dreams is that you don't know how you get into these situations, but you know how to enjoy them. Because from one moment to the next, the oh so taciturn Iudex Neuvillette has his face buried between your legs, tasting your folds and your clit with his trained tongue.

"Right there~" you moan, arching your back as you feel the desire well up from his mouth, his tongue drawing lustful strokes across your sex, his deep sighs stoking the fires of your passion.

His hands wrap around your legs, and for a moment you swear it's real, the way his nails dig into your skin, leaving reddened marks in their wake, and his thumbs sink into your thighs, anchored to you with no intention of letting go.

Then you feel him thrust into you, opening your silken walls in his wake, his thick cock making its way to your center, molding your walls to his erect, large form. You feel him rub against you as your insides embrace him with little restraint.

You hear him moan and feel your legs rise up over his shoulders, his cool hands at your ankles pressing down on you, thrusting slowly but deliciously, almost as if you were made for him. 

"Monsieur Neuvillette~" you moan, clutching the pillows, your hips bucking at the growing warmth in your belly, your hands seeking your own pleasure.

"Warmer than I thought," he whispers, "

it is almost like n your dreams... though this time it feels so real...

You look at him for the first time, his face sweaty, his cheeks flushed as his locks of white hair fall down your legs. His strong arms hugging you, his pecs rising and falling, holding breath... lower down, his chiseled abdomen twitching as his cock buries itself relentlessly inside you.

The sound of his balls against your skin blows your mind and makes you realize that it's not a dream, that Iudex Neuvillette is really fucking you (and very well, much better than you expected).

"Monsieur..." you try to sit up, but he has touched your cervix with his cock, and you do nothing but collapse under him, filled with the pleasure of his gentle thrusts.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asks you reverently, in a tone of sublime courtesy and lofty superiority, as if he were not mercilessly fucking you at his whim while you sleep.

"Don't stop," you whimper between words, not wanting to waste the opportunity you've been dreaming of since the first time you saw him, "damn it," you exclaim at the wave of heat surging through your chest and legs as you hear him chuckle under his breath, quite pleased with what he's managing to make of your body.

The orgasm hits you warm and rough, just as Neuvillette did with his cock, careful not to leave his seed inside of you. And your breath comes back as you feel him caress your back as if to reward you.

You feel his lips on your forehead, and the way his arms hold you beside him as your eyelids droop at the inevitable.

"How did you get here?" you babble, half asleep, caressing his chest as he draws soft circles on your arm. 

"You invited me," he whispers as he brings your hand to his neck where your bracelet encircles his skin and the charm falls to his chest.

"You'll explain it properly tomorrow," you murmur between confused shuffles...

[violet-eng]

Reuploaded | fem!reader finds out bf!Neuvillette was in Qiaoying Village after the Lantern Rite | NSFW 🔞

This follows the 4.4 Lantern Rite story

Summary: You're Neuvillette's long distance girlfriend as you live in Liyue. After the Lantern Rite you find out he was wandering around Quiaoying Village (where you live) but left kinda angry. So you travel to Fontaine to find out if he's mad at you for dumping him by accident.

Warnings: NSFW 🔞 so MDNI. Established relationship. Dirty talk. Nipple playing, piv, Neuvillette refuses to let you cum, doggy, ah... and he licks you...

Wc: 2.8k

Reuploaded bc I accidentally deleted it 🙃

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You do not make irrational or spontaneous decisions. You looked at yourself in the reflection of the lake, completely bewildered.

You live in Liyue and eagerly anticipate the Lantern Rite every year. However, that year, you spent a couple of days in Monstadt searching for a location to open a tea branch... 

The Lantern Rite had ended before your return this year, which was a huge disappointment. You missed the main celebration due to work. Additionally, you were shocked to receive Neuvillette's letter late. You had not informed him of your travel to Monstadt. Reading that he would have traveled to Liyue to see you, despite his busy schedule, made you feel guilty and remorseful.

Learning that Neuvillette had been in Liyue only a few hours ago caused you tremendous turmoil. Lady Furina tried to sugarcoat the gentleman's actions, but you know, even with all the nuances of Neuvillette, that he is disappointed.

So when Gaming's father offers you to travel to Fontaine in search of a location for his popular tea store, you don't think twice, moved by the regret of your actions.

It's terrible to think that a love quarrel is the only reason you would leave Liyue. You feel ashamed of the situation you've brought upon yourself. You arrive in Fontaine like an anxious lady seeking forgiveness. If shame falls upon you, it is already too late. You find yourself on the Aqua bus, headed to the Opera Epiclese.  

Your gaze falls on the light blue modern landscapes of the city, which had left you spellbound during your last visit. On a previous business trip, you met Neuvillette, who transitioned from a casual fling to a formal relationship through correspondence and furtive encounters.

Although you have been to this place before, the walls seem unfamiliar, and you are not accustomed to the style and decor. As you enter his office, Neuvillette sits up in his chair.

He looks at you with an unfamiliar expression and says, 'It's late.' The tone of his voice is serious, and his gaze feels like a dagger piercing your heart.

"I know," you say, with your breath escaping your chest. The thought of Neuvillette's trip to Liyue and disappointment at not finding you at home frustrates you. You understand how he feels; if you were in his shoes, you would be deeply upset.

"I'm sorry," you plead, walking towards him and stumbling along the way. This behavior is not typical of you, but he makes you feel so pitiful. "I should have warned you that I wouldn't be home. I had a business trip and... I know you're busy. I shouldn't have taken up your time”.

"My dear" Neuvillette cuts off your words with a warm look and advances towards you, wrapping his arms around your figure, "why are you justifying yourself this way?" His concern is genuine, comforting, his gaze a deep sea of pity and understanding.

"You're not angry?" you ask, your face sunk into his chest, your hands clinging to his back, your fingers tangled in the stitched details of his cloak.

"Why should I be, my love?" Neuvillette leaves a kiss on your hair and soft caresses play down your back, loving rubs on your skin that soothe your so nervous heart.

"I heard you came back unexpectedly from Liyue, and that you seemed somewhat displeased."

He let out a friendly laugh, his voice deep and calm like the sea, his voice dances in the room. 

"You would never do anything to displease me," he whispered into your hair, his lips brushing against your ear and cheek. "And if you ever did, we would talk it over properly. Don't ever think I'm going to be upset with you...What kind of person would I be if I let my emotions guide me? I apologize for any inconvenience my spontaneity may have caused. I understand that you have a time-consuming job, and I would never be upset with you because your priority is your job". He strokes your cheek and lifts your face to join your gazes in a bond of understanding and bliss.

"If anything," he adds, "I'm the one who should apologize." 

"No, don't say that." You said, "It's always welcome a little mess coming from you, my dear judge," you caress his cheek. Then, you add, "Still, I was afraid you'd be wasting your time.

"During my trip, I learned several things. Your village is very interesting, my dear," he said, breaking away from your embrace and walking to his desk. He rummaged in one of his drawers, discovering a small piece of porcelain, a plaque with an engraved figure surrounded by runes.

"This..." you take it in your hands, recognizing the depiction of one of your nation's most beloved adeptic figures. "Neuvi... where did you get this?" you ask.

"I had the wonderful opportunity to learn about various local crafts," he explains with innocent admiration. Your dear dragon has been introduced to a modern world beyond Fontaine for the first time. "I thought you'd be excited about that. Even though it's a trivial detail..."

"My beloved Neuvillette," you rush into his arms, kissing his cheeks with great affection... "Then why did you look so serious when you left? Lady Furina suspected that something had upset you... I thought you were offended that I stood you up. And when I came in, you looked at me angrily..."

"I was worried that you arrived so late, traveling at nightfall is not safe... I told you that you should think more of yourself... I am concerned about your well-being, and your high level of empathy may become harmful to you... though it is certainly one of the aspects that has bound me to you," he says, "On the other hand, my departure from Liyue is due to matters of a higher caliber. Summarized in an old rivalry that I had no intention of taking care of at the time."

All the pieces fall into place perfectly, and you even come to regret thinking of Neuvillette as a curmudgeon. 

"You must be exhausted," he says, taking your hand and kissing the back of it as if you were his queen, "stay with me tonight, rest today, and tomorrow we can go back to your place for the evening." 

His home is warm, warm enough for one who knows little of human customs, and even warmer when he offers you a hot cup. A comforting drink for a long journey. Neuvillette, the oh-so-mighty Hydrodragon, Chief Justice and now ruler of Fontaine, kneels before you as the tail of his cloak ripples like a wave in a graceful movement of his hands. His fingers gently take your ankles between his hands as he removes your shoes, untying the laces with his long, delicate fingers.

His gaze rises to meet yours, his clear orbs reflecting his burning desire to possess your body at this moment, to give himself completely to you for your pleasure. His hands slide over your ankles and knees, searching for the edge of your stockings under your skirt. The warm air of the house hits your thighs as the fabric is lifted and the soles of your now uncovered feet receive the warmth of Neuvillette's body. It's as if his sultry demeanor is flooding the entire room in an overwhelming wave of heat and ecstasy. 

It is as if the dragon is taking control of Neuvillette as you suddenly find yourself in his bed, naked and completely at his mercy. Months ago, this would have seemed like just another encounter, a chance meeting of fate and crossed paths, a lustful night full of forbidden and impure acts, but this time, after countless letters and meetings... it seems serious.

Neuvillette doesn't fully understand human feelings, or the sensations his body surprises him with, like the way his cock swells when he thinks of you at night, or the need to encircle his length when he receives one of your letters bathed in your perfume..... And much worse, he doesn't fully understand the burning that fills his heart when he holds you close, when you look at him with those eyes that are at once fearful and desirous, with an unholy innocence, the dichotomy of your expressions makes him agonize with love, because even though it took him a while, he finally understands that what he feels for you is what humans call love.

That is why he kisses you deeply as he stands over you, crushing your lips with his fervent intention to be reciprocated, to make it real and formal, although your visit has already given him a positive sign. He runs all over you, his hands sliding down the valleys of your body, shaping your figure with his palms, cupping your breasts between his nimble fingers, turning you over on the mattress so that he can enjoy the reactions that run down your spine. His heightened senses are alerted as the current flows down your back, as the skin on the back of your neck rises at the caress of his taut lips on your shoulder blade, the rough sound of his deep voice close to your ear, the warmth of his voice bathing your hearing, filling your head with the chant of his words of pure adoration. 

"Neuvi~" you moan in an icy sigh, overwhelmed by the Iudex's perverse caresses over your body.

"When I knocked on your door and you didn't answer, I thought you didn't want to see me," he whispers against your naked skin, "I began to wonder what I had done wrong..."

"You didn't do anything wrong, Neuvi...ah~".

He kisses your shoulder, sliding his tongue over your skin, tasting the sweat you give off, the salt of your complexion on his tongue, the female poison.

"So delicious," he whispers, sliding down your back, his voice taking over the skin over your spine, leaving wet kisses in his wake and moans of your name as his cock swells more and more.

"I thought you hated me. That from one moment to the next you had stopped loving me," he kisses your waist, leaving faint bites across your curve, using such an informal language...

"I~. Mmhhh..." you moan senselessly. "I wouldn't do that to you..." 

"I know, beautiful," his hands run up your belly, tracing naughty swirls with his fingers, "and for my own good, I will make sure tonight that you never stop wanting me, that you desire me and never anyone else, that the only thing that dominates your mind is the memory of my hands on your body and my cock in your pussy." 

He plays with your hardened nipples, the little buttons straining at the naughty hands of the Iudex, who eager explorers your body.

"Ahg~ mmmm~ Neuvillette..." you mewl as you cling to the sheets that cover the Chief Justice's wide bed.

He shifts your posture as if you were ragged, your body toppled at the mercy of his hands and desires that lift your hips to align with his length. 

The intrusion is slow and hot, stretching your sex to his form, expanding your desire to his hard love, wrapping himself in your wet embrace. The low growl he makes as he feels your pressure on him is opera to your red ears, the guttural moan that comes from his masculine chest is enough to make you wet even more.

"I missed you," he whispers, his shoulders tense and his nails digging into your skin, your hips settling against his, slowly easing into your deep, dripping desire.

His hands run down your back, caressing your waist, wanting to feel every bit of your experience, the cascade of overwhelming sensations escaping your delicate being. He enjoys watching how his cock loses itself inside you and how you wriggle at his relentless invasion. So delicate and so vulgar at the same time...wiggling your hips, rubbing yourself as you let out mellifluous moans and cling to the sheets.

"Neuvi~ I can't," you moan as tiny electric spasms erupt from your center, choking Neuvillette.

"Not so hard," he caresses your ass and thighs, trying to calm you down, "you can hold on, darling."

What a miracle you are in Neuvillette's eyes when he begins to move slowly and you manage to hold him perfectly. When his wandering shock of passion overflows you with the most overwhelming cries he's ever heard. How blissful he is to hear you babble his name as you suck his whole being with hunger and contempt.

"You're doing well, beautiful," his adoration turns to ambition, suddenly sneaking inside you, delivering the first thrust into your cervix, rubbing your knees against the bed.

"Ah!" you stifle a cry as he clasps your hands and rests his forehead on your shoulder, almost lifting your loins.

"Just like that, you're wonderful, y/n," his lips kiss your shoulder as his silver hair tickles your neck and cheek. It's like a sign of affection before the slaughter.

The heat inside you is overwhelming, your mind swirling with every deep thrust of Neuvillette inside you, every forced intrusion of anguish and desire. You cry out his name as if it will free you from the growing flame in your belly, as if it will unchain you from his thick cock slamming unceremoniously against your tight silken walls. You are a provocation, no, you are much more than that, you are the reason he succumbs to the crimes of his lust, his thirst for you. He is guilty of wanting you so much, of longing for your eyes and your body, your voice hoarse with his name like honey on your tongue. And he's a sinner for perverting such a pure angel, for taking your hips and pounding them relentlessly, for tearing strings of shimmering ecstasy that fall down your thighs, for those solid pieces of flesh that vibrate with his every move.

His hand touches your clit and in that moment you become a babble of pleasure, of unseemly moans and erratic movements. He praises you, praises you for how good your skin sounds against his, for the words you spit out between sobs, and freaks out when you beg him to stop, that you can't take any more of him, that he's too big.

"For my precious y/n, everything you ask," his rough voice creeps into your core, forming a steaming knot, "except that...". He just can't let you cum, not when he's willing to keep you at his mercy for hours. 

"Please!" you sob pleadingly. Your voice is clipped and raspy. 

"I need clear instructions, my love."

"Please let me cum," you are pathetic under him, moaning in anguish for a show of sympathy, though he only lets out a bitter chuckle of satisfaction.

"You're too good for me to make you beg this much," he says, quickening his pace, becoming frantic and almost primal, warping your insides and making your body his, crumbling what little sanity you have left, making you contract around him with a scream and cum.

Neuvillette's indiscretion causes him to explode inside you, releasing thick strands into your belly as he lets himself be led into the ecstasy of his madness, losing himself in the swirls of your delirious moans.

"My beautiful y/n," he steps out of you and kisses your forehead, turning your body over and cradling your humanity in his big arms. 

The night is long and when you catch your breath, you discover Neuvillette's predatory eyes peering into the darkness, you like his treasure and he the dragon guarding you.

"Sleep," you whisper, caressing his cheek with your thumb.

"I like watching you sleep," he says, "and smelling you... you have a strange scent.

"Maybe it's the mixture of the soil of my village, the water... and you," you smile, "By the way, when we get back to my place, remind me to offer you some of the local spring water.

"Ah... my precious one. You know me so well that you could cause my own downfall. I had the pleasure of tasting the water in the village, and I am very grateful for your sample. However, I must admit that the spring I enjoy most is between your legs."

"Neuvillette!" you laugh in embarrassment.

"I could eat you all day, y/n," he purrs, dipping his face into your breast, "and yet I would limit myself."

You stroke his hair, the blue strands that creep through his scalp, everything about this man fascinates you.

"Stay at Fontaine," he whispers against your chest, fighting the drumbeat of your excited heart. "I think the new tea branch needs a manager...".

The reality is that Neuvillette would not stand another day of exchanging letters, not when she has tasted you so passionately and cum inside you, not when he is just getting to know these strange and lovely human feelings. He wants to learn to love you as a man would, and so he needs you near him to give you all the love and care that a good lover would give his woman.

[violet-eng]

REMEMBER ME POOKIE? (THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING I APPRECIATE IT ♡♡♡♡

So Just think about it if zongli is your boyfriend right image he shows his dragon parts to u like tail and tongue scales horns👹👹👹

And dragon is a type of lizard so dose that mean he breeds whit his tongue and tail and he always wears gloves JUST THINK ABOUT WHAT GOODIES ARE UNDER THERE😚😚😚 GROWING FINGERS.

do u think he has 2 cocks?

You.Need.Jesus... And so do I...

About the 2 cocks thing... I asked an expert (my college friend) and she said yes...

Btw I took a little creative freedom bc I had this "jealous scenario" long ago and wanted to try again some interaction with hybrid Zhongli.

Also, in case you want something more casual then just tell me and I'll give it a try.

Order ready. Enjoy.

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Jealous Hybrid! ¡Zhongli! x fem!reader | NSFW 🔞

Summary: You traveled to Fontaine where you became close friends with Neuvillette. That's why when you return to Liyue and Zhongli SMELLS Neuvillette in your clothes, he goes feral and (basically what was previously asked).

Warning: smut 🔞. MDNI. Established relationship. Dirty talk. Does this count as fucking a monster? Zhongli hybrid sex. size kink. Incorrect use of the dragon's tail (not just once, but twice 🎶fancyyy🎶). Two cocks. Piv, anal. Fingering. Does tail sucking count as a bJob? Unprotected sex. Overstimulation. Dacryphilia. Basically, daddy Geo goes wild.

4.1 k words.

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In a few days, you will return to Liyue Bay, to your comfortable apartment in the center above the jewelry store, next to your beloved Zhongli, who has not stopped answering your letters since you left for your work trip to Fontaine. The immense city had completely amazed you, and dazzled by the avant-garde facades of its buildings, the days had felt more like a vacation than work.

Despite the ostentatious façade of the city, you miss home and the delicate architecture between the mountains that guard the city. You also miss the ocean, so different from the primordial sea, full of ancient legends and tales of war. Most of all, you miss your dear counselor at the funeral parlor. Zhongli had been very encouraging about the idea of your trip, especially knowing how much you were interested in working at Meropide Fortress.

This, in your lover's words, would give you a fresh perspective and update your knowledge of the law, as well as a useful contact like the Duke. However, your dear Zhongli did not expect that your thirst for knowledge would be overshadowed by a reluctant desire to help the helpless.

Wriothesley was the first at Fontaine to notice this, so he didn't stop you when you offered your knowledge and help during a trial at the Opera Epiclese, a murder case that was quite scandalous, but not enough to horrify you…

As a paralegal, your knowledge had become indispensable in subsequent trials, so much so that you spent more time in the office of Iudex Neuvillette than in the Fortress. One day you had to attend to a poor robbery victim, the next day you had to observe the petitions and lawsuits of a Sumeru traveler who had come to town, another day you had to make sure that Liney had not been sued for one of those dangerous magic tricks, and then you had to return to the Opera for more cases… and so on for the months you spent there.

Mornings and afternoons you were busy, surrounded by paperwork and research. Fontaine's technology was indeed a welcome relief, and you counted the days to return to Liyue with plans for those strange machines….

As long as the sun was high, you kept your mind on your work, whether it was at a trial or in Monsieur Neuvillette's office. But when the moon rose, and even the Iudex warned you that you had worked too hard, you enjoyed the tourist wonders the city had to offer. The cuisine was very different from Liyue's, the clothes and the songs… ….

Neuvillette, like the good ruler he is, as a result of all the help you had given him, dedicated himself to being your guide during your stay there.

You had found in the Iudex a pleasant companion, whose stories and knowledge consumed you with curiosity. He reminded you of your Zhongli in many ways, and in that ancestral spirit they both radiate… After all, both of them had been great ancestral dragons at some point in their lives.

The farewell from Fontaine had been anything but sad, you had promised to come back, the Melusines had obliged you… and they had given you a box of macaroons. The return to Liyue is much easier than the departure, and when you finally see the red-and-green tiled roofs of the atavistic buildings, a warmth floods your heart. Home… you're finally back.

You hadn't told Zhongli about your return, so he's surprised when he catches your scent while drinking tea near the Wanmin Restaurant. He puts the cup down on the table and, with a subtle movement, closes his eyes, concentrating on the scent emanating from your skin. Yes… it is definitely you, it is the scent of your hair, the balm of your lips, the smell of the cream you use to moisturize your hands… how he missed that smell… how many times he had masturbated smelling your clothes, in the dark solitude of his apartment, longing for you to come back to him and let him take you on the floor, on the table or wherever…

He could perceive every bit of your cinnamon scent, of the lavender cologne you had bought a few months ago, of the floral soap with which you washed your clothes, even the new smells, the dew from the plants of Fontaine, the scent of the flour with which they prepared their famous cakes, the outflow of the sea in which you must have swum, and… what is that smell?

Zhongli frowns, no matter how expressive his face contorts as he turns his head toward the cobblestone streets of his city to meet your figure and your surprised, almost disappointed expression.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," you complain as you embrace him from behind and leave a kiss on his head, how much you missed the scent of his dark curls, the feel of the softness of his hair… the scent of the man he is… you can't wait to have him on top of you that night…

"I smelled you from miles away," he mentions as if it were something banal, though in a rather stern tone of voice. He can't help but dive into the deep doubts of that foul smell. It seems familiar to him…

"I missed you too, my dear… Ah… It's been a long trip, but I had fun… I learned a lot," you say smiling, "Wriothesley was very kind to me, he gave me a lot of freedom to work in the Fortress…" you begin to tell.

The Duke, Zhongli thinks, no… that smell doesn't belong to him….

"Clorinde saved me from trouble when I first came to Fontaine…" you continue.

No… neither did she, Zhongli tells himself.

"Oh, Lady Furina was also very hospitable to me, even though she had a terrible flu when I first started working with the Iudex Neuvillette… oh, I almost forgot to mention the Hydro Dragon to you," you laugh, "you two have a lot in common…"

That smell… that reptilian stench of primordial water. So that's the name the vermin is using now…

Zhongli, smelling Neuvillette's perfume on your clothes, on your skin, can't help but think of all the days you spent with this man… being with him instead. He starts to feel a burning spark inside him that could explode any moment. Jealousy, people would tell him, he would call it thirst for death and war….

For the rest of the afternoon, all he hears from you is how wonderful and interesting Monsieur Neuvillette is… Neuvillette this, Neuvillette that, Neuvillette complimented me, Neuvillette helped me… Although you talk little about him and more about the other friends you made during your stay in Fontaine, in your territorial friend's mind it feels like you're explaining to him what a catch Monsieur Neuvillette is, a dragon who's not afraid to rule his country... while he…. Well

"I didn't think he was such a dragon," you comment, recalling the time Liney insisted Neuvillette to show him his original form, lying that it was his birthday, something the kindly Iudex, who cherishes the friendship of such an interesting being as Monsieur Liney, cannot deny.

"Did he show you his draconic form?" asks Zhongli, as if out of a trance.

"Only for a few minutes, but that was only once. I think I saw him more often as a dragon-human hybrid when we were working in his office late at night," you comment, very unaware of the pressure cooker Zhongli is turning into.

How comfortable Neuvillette must have felt, Zhongli thinks, to show himself to her like that… did they…? No, he reproaches himself, y/n would never do such a thing. And surely Neuvillette was just being kind to a guest like her, who had been so helpful during her stay there.

"Well," Zhongli adds, in the mood to change the course of the conversation, feeling a little more relieved, shedding his primitive instincts, "how was the weather?" he already knows the answer… rainy as usual… ….

"Pretty sunny," you reply.

And that's the breaking point for the great Rex Lapis, who has so patiently endured this conversation.

You hadn't realized how quickly night had fallen on Liyue when Zhongli led you by the hand at a brisk pace to your shared apartment. His grip is strong, like a heavy chain on your wrist, and his steps are longer and faster.

"Zhongli," you mutter between gasps at the performance you must give for this feat… After your long journey, the workout is going badly for you, "slow down".

"Yes… practice," he says, "because soon you will ask me to go much slower."

Your voice catches in your throat, while a few hours ago you had the idea of intimacy with Zhongli, you were expecting something slow and loving, as it usually happens when you return from your crossings… not what this man has in mind.

You stumble up the stairs, covering your face in embarrassment at the curious looks of your neighbors as they watch the unchanging funeral consultant drag his girlfriend up the stairs and into the confines of his apartment.

"Zhongli, stop it," you say once inside, breaking free of his grip, "what will the neighbors think?"

"That I'm fucking you until your legs stop working," he says, locking the front door.

"Don't say things like that," you squeak as you cover your face, your face red as a tomato.

"I wonder if you were this embarrassing when you were with your dear, respectable Iudex Neuvillette," Zhongli whispers, a hoarse undertone rising from his throat.

"Wait, Zhongli, it's not what it looks like," you try to defend yourself, though your words seem futile as the former Archon has you pinned against the wall, his entire form dwarfing your diminutive humanity.

"I'll tell you what it looks like," Zhongli says, slurring his words, despite the darkness, you can see his figure changing, growing in front of you, and his eyes, like two amber fireflies, piercing, are the only glimpse of light in the house, "it looks like I have to remind you who is the only dragon that can impress you, who is the only dragon that can eat your pussy and penetrate you until you're split in two."

"Zhongli!" you try to push him away, even though deep down something has started to smoke between your legs.

"I can smell how I turn you on," Zongli hisses, sinking his nose into your neck and brushing your cheek with his… horns?

"These…" you bring your hands up to his head, running them along the curve of the appendages that spring from his forehead, tangled in a spiral.

"Do you like them?" Zhongli muses, so deep and seductive that your skin bristles and your core soaks at the mere sound.

"I've never seen them before…" you say, your voice cracking, something besides Zhongli's hands caressing your hips and sliding up your thigh.

A tail… you'd be sure it was a tail if it wasn't for the darkness…

You turn your face away from Zhongli to watch him closely, noticing a certain look in his amber eyes, a pupil of an unfamiliar shape, and the way his smile shows you his sharp, gleaming fangs.

"I hate that you smell like him," he growls, shaking his head, "you should smell like me."

"Zhongli…"

"Is that all you can say?" he teases, sensing the eager tone in your voice, the nerves coursing through you from the tip of your nose to your toes, overwhelming your body in a rising flame of bubbling pleasure.

Zhongli is subtle as he leads you to the carpet, lighting the fireplace with his breath of fire on the way, illuminating the room and drawing a gasp of surprise from you.

Zhongli's figure towers over you, slender, almost monstrous. You find yourself propped up on your elbows, your skin brushing against the fabric of the carpet, while before you were wondering why he didn't leave you on the bed, now you understand, and that is that he wouldn't fit.

"Do you like what you see?" asks Zhongli, a proud smile on his handsome face. He kneels over you, cupping your frame between his thighs, to remove his clothes, which would have been torn by now but for the subtlety of his movements.

The thin fabric of his cloak falls behind his back, as delicate as lilies in spring, while his vest slides under his shoulders, tracing the slender figure of the ancient Archon. His tie is undone with a practiced gesture, and his white shirt opens in two, revealing the sculpted figure of the man above you.

The golden details of his skin reflect the fire of the hearth, and his chest, as fiery as the flame beside you, rises proudly before your incredulous gaze. The distance between his shoulders has grown, his chiseled muscles flexing with every movement. He undoes his gloves with his teeth, and as perverse as he looks, you can't help but wet your lips with your tongue. His digits, like the rest of his body, have grown in size.

"I can read on your face the myriad fantasies that plague your depraved mind," he muses, adding a snaky sound to the end of the sentence.

Saliva drips down your throat, sweat trickles down your forehead, and your fluids begin to soak your core, all wet.

Zhongli is very skilled at undressing you, he has always taken his time for this kind of prelude, warming you up for him and adjusting your body to his eager caresses… but this is not just any situation… no, in his mind, in the mind of the powerful and ancestral ruler of Liyue, the goal is not to show you what a fervent and devoted lover he can become, but to rip all traces of the unwanted water dragon from your head and body.

"Careful," you mewel as you feel his claws growing and tearing at the fabric of your blouse and skirt.

"If these rags are so important to you, you know I can buy much more graceful ones that flatter the divinity of your figure," he orders, he's a tough nut to crack… and damn, that makes you…

"It's not the clothes…" you look for support on his shoulders, he moves you as if you were a rag doll, "I'm afraid you'll rub my skin…"

"Precious," he inhales deep into the skin on your shoulder, "I'm very skilled at moving when I'm with you. I would never allow myself such an atrocity, to bruise this pristine skin would be punished with the worst of punishments".

"Still," you whisper, and he gives you a golden look, expecting what you will say, with a calm but instinctive depth, you feel the flame of his lust grow and spread.

"Calm down," Zhongli says, laying your back down on the carpet again and parting the fabric of your bra with his claws. Your breasts heave after the release, your face turned sideways with crimson cheeks. "You look so beautiful when you're embarrassed," he adds, dipping his nose between your breasts, taking a deep breath of your eager, warm scent, bathed in eroticism and anticipation.

Zhongli slides his nose over your belly and then between your legs, over your soaked lingerie. Without taking his eyes off you, his eyes locked with yours in an iron grip, he slides the elastic of your garment around your hips, sliding the thin fabric down your thighs and then your ankles. The movement is slow and painful, but exhilarating, just as the image he gives you by smelling your underwear is exhilarating.

His beautified figure towers over you, the fabric clenched in a fist to his nose, where a deep sniff brings Zhongli the ecstasy that no recreational tea leaf could ever provide. The nectar of your sex is the only delicacy he needs that night, whether in his mouth or around his cock…

Throwing the lingerie aside, Zhongli places his hand on his pants, ripping the dark fabric tightly from his muscular legs to reveal not one, but two huge, thick, throbbing cocks eager for you.

"What the fuck!" you exclaim as you watch Zhongli's monstrous appendages slam into his abdomen.

He seems to ignore your expression as he buries his face between your legs, kissing the inside of your thighs, inhaling the juice inside of you as it oozes from your center… Well, he tells himself, it doesn't smell like Neuvillette, at least not here.

"Do you hear me?" you call, lifting his face by the horns, "do you have two cocks?"

"'Indeed, yes," he answers, taciturn as always, "what a crude way to question me about my nature, dear," he says, while you notice his tail waving behind him, wagging from side to side like a predator about to hunt. .

"Did you learn these manners on your wonderful journey to the Nation of Justice?" Zhongli asks as his tail wraps around your thigh, grazing your skin with its scales as it moves closer to your center.

"No… but it was a coherent question I asked," you argue with him, so vainly that you look pathetic.

"And I guess you didn't learn how dragons mate either?"

"The Iudex and I," you start to speak, but your voice stops when you feel Zhongli's tail tempting your folds, "He and I never… no…"

"Too bad," Zhongli replies, "because at least his tail would be softer than mine."

The words catch in your throat, a gasp as Zhongli spreads your legs and the rough skin of his tail slowly slides into your pussy, shaping the surprised, wet, velvety walls around him.

"Ahg!" You cry out between painful moans, you haven't even had time to get used to his thickness and he's already reached the bottom.

You writhe on the rug, your hands clenched tightly against the fabric of the rug as Zhongli holds your legs apart, watching the embarrassing way your pussy clenches around his appendage.

Your back arched as you heard him laugh, sending vibrations to your center, as if everything in it was somehow connected.

"Nothing to add?" he asks, almost mocking you.

"I~…mmhh~" you mewl as your chest rises and falls heavily, waves of heat gather in your belly, the thickness of his tail hurts, burns, but he touches you in every place you could want, even though it seems if he went any further he could reach your throat, "Ahg~"

"Too big?" he asks, pulling back just in time to hit your cervix again.

"Ah!" you moan hotly.

"Speechless?" Zhongli plays with your mind as he withdraws again, this time further, to sink deep inside you again, this time harder.

You can't help but let out a high-pitched, almost heartbreaking scream as you feel him plunge his tail all the way in, welcomed by your walls as they get used to him. His tail is long, largely due to his draconic form, so each time it curls up to penetrate you, it reaches the bottom with a crushing fall, pressing down on the rubbery spot that suffocates you.

Zhongli crosses your legs over his shoulder and pumps his tail into your pussy as if he's cleaning something inside you. Your back jiggles in this position, your waist moves at the stimulus of his thrusts inside you, your throat emits the most outrageous cries of pleasure you've ever made.

He goes in and out, rubbing every corner of you in synchronicity and fervor, little patient with your tolerance and abusing your limits. It excites him to see you screaming for him, and it excites him even more to see pearly drops sliding from your eyes, glistening like the juices overflowing from your abused hole.

"Ahhg~ yes, yes~" each word shouted between moans and sighs, deepens in Zhongli an instinctive way that he has wanted to show you for a long time. Each thrust accelerates, becoming frantic and jerky, each stroke brimming with power, and his hands wrap around your legs, holding you in place so you don't move as he ejaculates inside you.

His tail spasms painfully and suddenly you feel a familiar warmth explode inside you. he has cum inside you, you know it because you are aware of the sensation of his seed overflowing from your pussy… although you doubt that it came from his tail…

"You…" you gasp, mesmerized by the dark new sensation Zhongli has given you.

"Looks like you enjoyed it more than I thought," he smiles, a dark smile.

His tail emerges from inside you and slides over your stomach and waist, turning your body until your knees and palms touch the carpet.

"You're not very swollen yet, are you?" he asks.

"Well, I… ah!" you moan in mid-sentence as you feel his fingers sink deep into you, almost as long as your insides, reaching the deepest valleys of your insides, "Zh…. Zhongli~."

He moves his fingers inside you, bigger and thicker than you remembered. He pulls them out to leave your fluids on his cocks and plunges his fingers back in to lubricate your ass this time.

"I never dared to ask you to do it from behind," he says as he spreads your buttocks with his hands, exposing your small hole to him, "perfectly made for me," Zhongli whispers to himself.

You feel his thick member slide into your pussy, your entrance getting used to his new length as it throbs around him. Almost immediately he enters your ass, slowly working his way inside you, your hole welcoming the new guest with contractions that elicit guttural moans from Zhongli.

"Not so hard, darling," he growls, "or you'll make me cum," he adds, placing his hands firmly on your hips, avoiding the way your body trembles at his intrusion.

"It hurts~" you let out with a moan, because indeed it hurts, but the feeling of being so full makes your body feel like you are on cloud nine, experiencing sensations you have never felt before. "Mmhhh ~ Zhongli ~," you unconsciously move your hips back and vulgarly ask him to start his thrusts.

"I'm going to move, dear. Need you to hold on as long as you can," he says, leaning into your ear, the warmth of his breath flooding your neck and cheek. He doesn't want to hurt you, in short, he's jealous of your new friendship in Fontaine, but he didn't want to make you a victim of his feelings. He loves you, he is madly in love with you, and that is why he is willing to show you, in the most draconic human way possible, who is the only one who deserves to have you.

"Please," you beg, grinding your hips against his, feeling his cocks sink deeper into you.

Zhongli, like the ardent lover he is, doesn't keep his beautiful lady waiting, not after how well you've just taken him. He rubs your insides with his cock, eliciting mellifluous moans from you, and in an arduous retreat, he enters you again, all the way in, again and again and again.

The sound of skin against skin fills the room, Zhongli rushes into you at a frenetic and almost deadly pace, one second you feel empty and the next you are completely full, his appendages bruise your insides, shaking your insides and churning your belly in skillful movements.

He throws his head back, enjoying the way you clench around him, completely hooked on you, trapped in your vicious holes. He takes one of your breasts in his hand, massaging the soft, sweaty flesh under his fingers as heartbreaking screams leave your throat, his tail trailing up your other nipple, wrapping around it as one of his hands massages your clit.

You're completely pampered by his limbs, screaming his name as if it would save you from the overwhelming storm of pleasure consuming your body. Your face is contorted with pleasure, your eyes are in the back of your head, your heart is pounding against your chest just as Zhongli is doing inside you. All in perfect synchronicity.

The climax of pleasure comes when Zhongli takes your hands and places them behind you while his tail splits your lips and slides over your tongue, down your throat. All your holes are completely filled, all subdued by him, entering relentlessly without stopping for you to rest.

Zhongli grunts and moans as he feels your throat close to his tail and as your ass begins to shake around his cock. And he does it even more when he thinks about how beautiful you will look completely bathed in his cum. That's why when he comes inside you, from your mouth and pussy, he can't help but move away from you to get a clear picture of you gagging as you try to just swallow his contents, and as the milky fluid gushes from your butt under your thighs.

You cough and wipe your lips with the back of your hand, looking over your shoulder at the way your legs and ankles are soaked with hIs seed. Dragon stuff, you think, because he's never given you a load of this size before.

"Charming," he whispers, enchanted by the image your corrupted form offers him, "divinely accommodating and beautiful. The most precious treasure I have found on my long journey," he adds, crawling towards you, wrapping your body in his arms as he surrounds you with his figure in fluid movements, pressing you against his chest.

You feel Zhongli's chest vibrate, and the way he has put you on his chest, between his arms, and covered you with his tail, gives you the impression that he is holding you in a shelter, you, his precious treasure.

"Tomorrow I will make you a nest, I have to build one so I can take care of you and our cubs," he whispers above your head.

"Did it really occur to you that I could cheat on you with another man?" you ask, taking advantage of the fact that Zhongli has let down his guard.

"It was my mistake to let my foolish thoughts control my actions. In fact, I think you are the most loyal person I have ever met in my life," he replies.

"If so… why doubt me?"

"Because you are too good for someone like me. Because your sense of help and perseverance is more like that of a dragon who decides to take care of his people than one like me… who leaves them to their own fate," there was a hint of melancholy in his words.

"You have been a good ruler, my dear Rex Lapis. Liyue is more than ready to be ruled by humans…don't think that you have left it to its fate…especially when you walk through its streets and talk to its people," you smile as you caress his chest.

"My dear y/n, you always have the words to make my cold heart warm and smooth," he plays with the strands of your hair, "I am deeply sorry that I ever doubted you…in the near future I will make it up to you, and maybe in the distant future we can remember this as a simple and shameful mistake of mine," he adds, joining his lips to yours in a kiss that shows you his painstaking sincerity, the doors of his emotions wide open for you.

Zhongli's tongue slides into your mouth, giving the kiss a more naughty touch… and you don't know how, but suddenly you find yourself at his mercy again, stretching your pussy with his two cocks inside you, shaping your walls with relentless attacks.

"I want to see you with a swollen belly," he moans, "you're going to be a beautiful mother…" he says, opening your legs, digging his claws into your thighs, watching as his two cocks disappear into your hole.

Now that you think about it… maybe Zhongli is in heat…

[violet-eng]

pt.2 | Husband!Zhongli gets home and wants wife!reader to take care of him- NSFW🔞

Summary: This follows the PART 1 where Zhongli returns home and wants to enjoy his wife but things turn a bit philosophical and spicy.

TW: smut. MDNI, established relatinship, unprotected sex, p i v, oral (fem receiver), dirty talk. Basically porn without plot (the plot is in part 1).

🎨 by SaiprinSK

1.1k words

NSFW under the cut

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There's something about your husband that drives you crazy, maybe it's the way he knows your preferences in bed, or the way he crashes his hips into yours. Zhongli told you he wouldn't let you go, especially now that he's made this promise to you, the most battle-hardened oath of fidelity he's ever sworn, the contract he'd never think of breaking. 

His hands slide down your hips, he has already finished another round with you and is already preparing you for the third. He stands tall over you, his figure overshadowing your frail, anxious form. He strokes your cheek with his thumb, and as you watch him with those sweet, devoted eyes, your lashes framing the oasis of love you give him, he hates himself. How could he even mention his former conquests at a time like this? He wanted to make up for his mistake, to redeem his indiscretion, that's why he had come clean with you, that's why he had made the promise he had been afraid to make for so long. 

"I'm going to take advantage of every second, every word that comes out of your mouth, every movement of your body..." he had said a few hours ago, and fuck... yes, he was going to keep it.

He slides back inside you, your pussy throbbing and your hips reflexively moving away from his. You find yourself exhausted, the overstimulation not doing you any good.

"Zhongli~" your voice is barely audible.

"No, call me like you just did," he growls low, and you notice a darkness in his eyes that you hadn't seen before. The presence in the room becomes heavy, the air almost palpable, your husband's growl almost animalistic.

"Morax," you whisper between gasps, Zhongli's eyes, piercing and stalking, fixed on yours. You know he likes it when you use his Archon name... you know what you provoke in him, though you are never prepared for the consequences.

"I never want you to think again that you are just another woman in my life, one of my lovers," he decrees as his tongue slips into the curve of your neck, "I will keep you subdued in this bed all week if I have to, so you don't get any ideas like that."

"All week?" you ask anxiously, Zhongli's tone, though seductive, is quite serious, and you know that when he makes a promise, he is reluctant to break it.

"Dear y/n," he smiles against your skin, "I already told you that a week in your human mind is like an hour to me...".

"Morax," you whisper almost pleadingly, caressing his cheek.

"Didn't you say you'd give me your whole life?" he teases, his mouth sliding between your breasts, leaving wet kisses on your stomach, "I already told you that you're the woman I'll be with until my mortal life is over... don't you think I should enjoy everything you can give me as a wife?" he smiles between your legs, giving you a rather captivating honey look.

"M... Morax~" you gasp, almost on the verge of tears. You can't escape, not when he's already got your legs around his shoulders and is tantalizing your womanhood with his warm fingers, not when he looks like a starving man who's found his last supper between your legs....

"I'm going to eat this pussy of yours," he announces, and fuck, you know he's going to do it, and do it well, because he's a god eating you.

The sound of Zhongli's tongue between your folds is intoxicating, morbid and very vulgar, just like the moans coming from your throat, rough, choked, full of lust. You feel his reptilian tongue reach your walls as a heat rises inside you, the same one his mouth consumes between gustatory gasps.

"So sweet," he whispers against your clit, the vibration of his voice eliciting an embarrassed moan, your legs parting even further to give him access to his slick tongue. 

"So devoted...showing that perfect pussy to your Archon. You want to prove you're the most faithful follower, don't you?" he says, his thumb gliding over your clit, tracing wide, slow circles, painfully slow, but with just enough pressure to cause a burst of pleasure.

Zhongli's tongue slides back inside you, spreading to every nook and cranny of your insides, stirring your sex hungrily as his fingers continue to play with your ball of nerves.

You squirm under his movements, running your hand through his hair, tangling your husband's jet locks between your fingers. Your legs, as if overwhelmed by an electric current, release slight spasms every time his tongue touches that delicious spot inside you. 

You are a mess before him, naked and sweaty, your legs spread like a bitch in heat that needs to be penetrated, your voice hoarse from screaming his name and begging for more. Your eyes are blank, your lips are parted, and your back is arched. Zhongli moves deftly, his nose brushing sensitive parts of your pussy, sporadic giggles vibrating against your skin, soft bites on your folds....

"I love you," he whispers as he tangles your clit with his tongue and his hands move up in search of your breasts. 

It's the end of you, you know it when he starts to play with your  flesh while his face is buried, concentrating on your abused nub. The heat builds, your moans are erratic and irregular, the feeling of Zhongli's hands kneading your breasts adding the finishing touch to the formation of that tangle of hot sensations in your belly.

"I love you, fuck... and I will always love you, only you, only you..." he adds pleadingly, eager for his words to penetrate your being as he leaves fiery kisses on your bulge.

The flame explodes and as you writhe under him, victim of the outburst of pleasure, he holds you in place, his hands still on your breasts and his face in your pussy. You cry out in pleasure, fuck, he's never eaten you as well as he just did.

"Don't you doubt me anymore darling?" he whispers, coming closer to your chin, leaving gentle kisses on the corners of your lips, you feel the taste of his breath and your own juices.

"No... not anymore," you let out between exhilarated gasps. Desire runs through your body as it does through his.

"My beautiful little devoted creature," he adds, leaving a kiss on your forehead and caressing your cheek, lulling you with the soft movements of his fingers on your skin, "you know how to make me happy... you take such good care of me."

You feel how he holds you against his chest, locked in his arms, feeling the passionate beating of his loving heart, while he whispers senselessly, making you fall asleep in the arms of your wonderful husband...

[violet-eng]

F!reader spoils Lil Dragon!Zhongli... at first | Fluff🧸 (with dragon)+ 🔞 (with human Zhongli)

🎨by: @nagarnia_art and @JeanGreyCG

Summary: You're doing some research in the woods, looking for certain minerals, when you feel some tiny tiny eyes staring at you. After Zhongli morpps from a dragon to a human, things get a bit... hot...

Tw: with human Zhongli smut 🔞, PIV. Insinuations of breeding season, with dragon Zhongli just some cute Dragon behavior bc I ended up traumatized after writing some angst.

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Your research is going well. Your reports to the Fontaine Science Institute were successful during your last expedition, earning you praise from your superiors. You have been living in Liyue for over six months. After learning about minerals that can emanate energy, you sought out information to educate yourself on the subject. 

The rocks in Liyue seem to have a memory, possibly due to the work of their Archon or as a natural result of high evolution and energetic vestiges from ancient wars. 

Zhongli, the Parlor consultant, had told you about a spot at the foot of a valley that might interest you, and you were amazed. You had no reason to doubt the man's wisdom. You had formed a deep bond of friendship with him because you admire his extensive knowledge about everything. You set off almost immediately. He had offered to accompany you, but you had refused because you prefer to do your research alone, surrounded by nature and away from the attractive distraction that Zhongli could become.

Your friend is attractive, in a way that you tried to express in your letters to your friends at Fontaine, but never succeeded. Your banal words and names do not do justice to the physique of this man of unshakable character, steely sense, and tenacious gaze. You could not bear to make a mistake in his presence during the expedition, not because you were clumsy, but because his figure moved your senses, your ground, and betrayed your own perceptions.

So, as you walk through a pleasant area of foliage, covered by the fierce, scorching rays of the sun, you decide to let your guard down, to take off your jacket and your gloves. You use a ribbon to tie up your hair as you walk on, arriving at the place Zhongli had shown you beforehand. The passage is strangely comfortable, very suitable for a quiet investigation, full of strange figures of small rocks of irregular and curious shapes.

Under the canopy of large trees, you spread out your arsenal of tools on the grass, put on your protective visors, and get to work. Sequencing the rock profile takes little time, your agile skills allowing you to avoid unnecessary pauses or clumsy backtracking typical of an amateur. Then you take the samples, tiny particles that do not alter the correct and productive nature that King Geo has protected for years, and while you wait for the filtering to finish, a strange sensation runs down your spine.

You had let your guard down during your experiment, letting the peaceful appearance of the place convince you, something very unprofessional on your part. So you turn to the side and feel a presence. Among the bushes, you spot a pair of curious little spheres, and you jump as the leaves rustle in the presence of an unknown being. 

A deep relief washes over you as the creature in question appears on the scene. A small dragon, microscopic in physiognomy compared to adult forms, with curious eyes and a golden tail twisted into a spiral. Its little paws make furrows in the ground, its face dejected, as if it had been caught doing something illegal.

"Little one, have you been watching me all this time?" You ask the cute little creature, who hides his head between his front paws, realizing he can't do it with his tail, which isn't long enough.

"Come here, don't be afraid of me," you whisper, approaching it cautiously, holding out your hands.

The dragon gathers itself in its own anatomy, growling low, sounding almost like a common cat, you can't help but laugh at it. You bring your fingers up to the growling pellet and stroke its head, right between its underdeveloped horns. You notice a puff of breath coming from the little guy's nose.

"How cute, you liked that, didn't you?" you laugh as you stroke his head and then his back, causing the miniature dragon's tail to wag.

"Come, sit with me, we'll have to wait a long time until the filtering is finished," you take him in your hands, on your palms.

"Wow... I've never seen one of your species so small... and those scales," you comment, bringing your face close to the reptile's, "I'd swear you have very, very soft skin, you're very rare, uh," you add, while you turn to your tools, which emit a strange smell.

You leave the dragon on the ground and approach your machinery, no, nothing out of place... well, now you can turn your attention to the little guy who... what is he doing?

You notice the tiny creature rubbing against your foot, making strange squeaks. It's... it's mating with your shoe? You burst out laughing and shake your foot, pushing it away and picking it up again.

"You horny little bugger," you say, poking him in the nose, "I forgot that your species is in mating season. I regret to inform you that you will get nowhere with me, I am not of the same species... ours is impossible."

A sad sigh escapes from the little animal's chest, and you notice how its whole face becomes depressed, its horns and ears seem to droop in deep disappointment.

"Don't cry," you say, putting it on the ground in the grass and lying down in front of it, "we can play if you want, to distract you a little”.

That got his attention, because he looked at you again. He walks up to you with his little paws and puts one on your nose, he starts to sniff you with that little button in the middle of his little face.

"Ohhh... do you want a little kiss?" you ask, flooded with tenderness, "I would do anything to make you happy" you say, placing a tender kiss on the dragon's forehead. Is like a puppy...

The dragon retraces his steps, accelerating and rolling his head in madness. You see him writhing in place, as if he had suddenly fallen ill, and then... poof... a golden flash and a trail of smoke,  ike the one he had just exhaled through his nose. A faint wave of heat and a faint smell of sulfur as a figure began to form behind the column of smoke.

You straightened up in your seat as the column disintegrated, revealing the very embarrassed image of Zhongli, covering his mouth as he coughs, with traces of smoke and golden flames escaping from his throat.

He is wearing little clothing, a tunic of the same color as the skin of the dragon you spoke to earlier... is that perhaps...? 

"You," you point an accusing finger at Zhongli, and he looks at you with flushed cheeks, "what was that? Aren't you going to say anything about it?" you say to the man, appearing to be annoyed, although in reality, seeing him in that outfit has aroused something pleasurable in you.

"Well?" you insist.

"Are you going to give me that kiss or?" he interjects, his voice still weak and embarrassed.

His embarrassment fades for the next hour, during which he relentlessly thrusts himself into you, waiting for your boring explorer machine to end.

The filtering of the rocks continues, the particles falling into the vessel like sand in a crystal clock. The small machines emit tiny clicks and a faint plume of smoke and gas. The rumble of the cycle's drumbeat advances in rhythm with your moans as you feel Zhongli sink deep into you.

You lie on the grass, your pants and panties around your ankles, your hands on your head clinging to the foliage, your waist encircled by Zhongli's large hands holding you steady so he can work his way into your pussy. You feel his pelvic bone against your center, his balls against your skin, and then he pulls away to enter again. Gently, lovingly, afraid to break you and hurt you. He's painfully slow, but how good it feels.

You hear him make low, rasping noises as faint plumes of smoke rise from his nose, as when he looked like a dragon. His cock twists inside you, slapping against your cervix, massaging your wet, warm depths that mold to the shape of his member. You feel the warmth rush down your legs, an electric current coursing through every fiber of your limbs, your chest heaving in desperation.

The orgasm hits you both at the same time, decorating Zhongli's cock with a white ring as his cum spills into you like thick ropes from his ecstasy. He pulls back your panties and pants, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.

"May I mark you?" he asks with a look of honor, his face sublime and devoted.

"Don't even think about it," you say, joining in, noticing the sadness in his eyes, "we weren't even supposed to do it. It was just supposed to be a kiss and that's it," you seem to scold him, though it's you who's scolding yourself for being so unseemly and impetuous, though damn... you've enjoyed it so much... ....

Sensing your hostile tone, Zhongli wraps himself up and immediately transforms into his small reptilian form.

"Please stop being so dramatic," you express, leaning against one of the tree trunks and letting out a laugh. "Come back... I don't want to wait alone," you say, crossing your legs and putting your jacket down.

Zhongli, the dragon, approaches you with short steps, due to the length of his small legs, and climbs onto your lap, where he rubs the fabric of your coat, nestling into the fabric to take refuge, and lets out a yawn before closing his eyes and settling down for a nap. You stroke his back and coo to the little creature, feeling him purr like a cat.

"How cute you are when you sleep," you laugh, stroking his nose, causing him to bite your finger, "did you just mark me without my permission?" You ask, but he just squeals and jumps off your lap, looking for a way to escape. You catch him with your coat and throw it at him like a fleeing rat, but he manages to escape and hide in the bushes... you don't see him again for the rest of the afternoon, but you know that when you return to Liyue Harbour you will demand an apology, an explanation... and maybe a round two.

[violet-eng]

not a request, just wanted to thank you.

do your fingers shine when you write? 'cause each post is so well done that I think I'm bewitched 🩷🫶

Did you say "bewitched"? Did you just Mr. Darcyed me? Are you bewitched body and soul or just body?

🥰 btw thank you, I appreciate this.

[violet-eng]

f!reader reacts to Zhongli (Morax)! "apoptosis" during Rite of Descension | angst + 🔞 NSFW

So... I've always wondered how Zhongli's close friends (let's pretend he has close friends) would react to his death during the Rite of Descension...

╔══════*.·:·.☽✧  ✦  ✧☾.·:·.*════════╗

Summary: Zhongli and you are a couple, and you know he's Rex Lapis. How would you react if your beloved dragon boyfriend dies in front of your eyes during the Rite of Descension? Or worse yet, how would you react if you found out that he is actually alive?

Tw: Angst (a lot), smut, 🔞, MDNI, p i v, nipple sucking, words of hate during sex (i hate you), mentionsof death.

🎨 by: Nid417 2k words.

╚════════*.·:·.☽✧✦✧☾.·:·.*═════════╝

The soft caress of Zhongli's fingers on your forehead woke you up in the morning, bringing you back to the earthly realm and wrenching you from the comfortable sleep you had taken as a reward for your performance the night before. Like every night, Zhongli had abused you in bed, using you until he left his empty balls in your belly. 

The light streaming through the window, the rays of sunshine heralding a new day, brighten your face as you realize that Zhongli has gotten out of bed. You watch him get dressed, the shirt covering his arms, golden marks on his dark skin, the marks of your nails on his back, crimson traces open to the passage of your passion.

"Today is going to be a long day," your ardent lover says as he adjusts his tie, "I'm sorry to have to wake you, it's never my intention to cause you any discomfort, but I'm afraid on this occasion it was absolutely necessary."

"The Rite of Descension is today, I had forgotten," you mention, leaning back on your elbows and rubbing your eyes, the locks of hair falling over the valley of your breasts, the sheet covering you sliding down to your waist, giving Zhongli a magnificent view as he adjusts his pants.

"When it's all over, we should have dinner... and then maybe try our luck at starting a family," he says, though it's hard to make out his words because of the volume of his voice. Zhongli speaks with a tinge of nostalgia, a back and forth of dark feelings and a melancholy aura, he has been in this state for several weeks now.

"I guess there's no point in me asking you again what's wrong with you today," you say, embellishing the sentence with a subtle laugh, sometimes your dear Morax is very secretive about his feelings and manages to become hermetic and unshakable as a rock, today is one of those days.

"I promise you that once the Rite culminates, all your questions will be answered," he says, sitting next to you, caressing the curve of your back and tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear. One of Zhongli's favorite images is your face when you wake up...especially the morning after a good fuck. There's something about your puffy eyes that drives him crazy, or the scarlet color on your skin from his teeth the night before that makes him lose his mind, whatever it is, he finds you to be the most charming creature he's ever met in his millennia of existence.

"I only ask you," Zhongli says, continuing the conversation, keeping the cryptic tone he had a few moments ago, "I only ask you not to be afraid, no matter what you see, do not be afraid. I will come back to you no matter what happens”

"You always do," you say as you turn around, your face lit up with a smile and your breasts in full view as you reach out a hand that manages to caress his cheek, "that's our contract, darling, you always come back to me."

Zhongli fiercely fights the desire to fuck you at this moment, these words and this image you have given him.... He takes a deep breath before getting up from the bed, ignoring his instincts. There will be time to indulge your carnal desires.

You know the Rite of Descent in detail, you have witnessed it and heard it performed firsthand. This time there is nothing out of the usual, perhaps a new face or two, but nothing out of the ordinary. You find yourself looking forward to what will happen next, and perhaps during the night you will comment to Zhongli how strange it is to see him in his draconic form, and how sweet you find his empathic act of introducing himself to the....

The rumble of the lifeless body of the Lord of Liyue falling echoes through the place. The offerings table is a mess, and the ensuing uproar even more so. There is talk of murder, the Millelith rushes in pursuit of the suspects, and as the rest of the crowd disperses, you lie in place, frozen, stunned by what you have witnessed. You bring your hands to your chest in a reflex to stop the heartbeat that seems to pierce your skin, the sound of the Millelith's footsteps confused with the thumping rhythm of your heart, your lip trembling and your hands sweating, your trembling fingers clutching the fabric of your clothes, trying to bring you back to reality as you watch the body of your beloved Morax lying lifeless before your eyes.

"Tell Wangsheng Funeral Parlor what happened," Keqing orders you... or is it Ningguang's voice? " Y/n! There's no time to waste, go!"

Much to your chagrin, you find yourself running to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, your eyes on the verge of bitter tears and deep weeping, but you cannot afford to do so, not when you cannot explain your reaction to others. You walk down the stairs, wondering: Did Zhongli's recent attitude mean that he suspected that someone wanted to kill him, and if so, why didn't he trust you? The questions cloud your mind, you stumble over some people while debating with yourself, Zhongli knew it, in short, that's why he had such a mysterious attitude lately, he knew he would abandon you? No, you're cursing yourself, you can't think about him like that, especially now that he's... You can't even think of the word, Morax, Rex Lapis, your beloved Zhongli, is an immortal being who has traveled miles of life, he is a powerful being, the strongest of the gods... or he was... ....

You resign yourself to the facts, to the image of the dragon lying on the rubble, his chest motionless, his eyes lifeless... you had not even been able to say goodbye to him that morning. With regret gnawing at your heart, you burst into Wangsheng's funeral parlor and called out to Hu Tao.

"Rex Lapis," you say with a lump in your throat, as she grabs your arms and asks you to calm down, "Rex Lapis is..." you pause over your words as the figure of your lover emerges from one of the offices.

"Y/n" Hu Tao agitates you, but you are absorbed in the image coming towards you, the way Zhongli hurries to give you a drink.

"He's dead," you manage to finish the sentence without taking your eyes off Zhongli. Hu Tao is shocked by this and laments over such an unfortunate event, delving into theories that could have led to something like this happening.

"There is no reason to jump to conclusions at a time like this," Zhongli suggests, "Ninnguang must need help.

It is Hu Tao who leaves the place at his subordinate's suggestion, leaving him in charge of your welfare, your poor condition being too obvious to the average eye. It is just the two of you in the room, the sound of commotion outside is beyond reproach, but at this moment, you are oblivious to what is going on outside.

Zhongli holds out his coat to you, draping it over your shoulders and adjusting the collar over your chest, you holding the drink he offered you a few moments ago. You analyze him closely, your eyes scanning him in detail, taking in every inch of his image. 

"Y/n," he whispers as he caresses your shoulders, his hands coddling your arms, looking at you like an infant about to cry.

"Zhongli," saying his name feels like breathing out your last breath of life. You bring your hesitant hand to his face, a reflection of your desire to check if what you are observing is real. You press his skin against your palm, and he leans into the familiar touch of your caress.

"My beautiful y/n, I beg your forgiveness" he muses as he moves the cup away from your hands, to take your small limbs between his, kissing your knuckles gingerly.

The gesture causes you to burst into tears, to throw yourself into his arms and release the sea of bitterness and pain that had built up in your chest. Zhongli pulls you close to him, wrapping you in an embrace that he hopes will never break, that he hopes will prove how sorry he is for the hurt he has caused you. You ask him for explanations between sobs, you reproach him for not being clear with you, for letting you believe he was dead, you beat his chest in agony and resentment, and he allows you to do so, if it were up to him, you could actually kill him at that very moment, he deserves no less, not when he has made you shed tears for him so bitterly.

"You should have told me" you whimper, and your legs start to shake. The burning in your chest grows and you feel like you will faint at any moment. Zhongli senses it, senses every change in your organism, so he hurries to ask you to return home.

The road passes in silence, Zhongli has put his arm around your shoulder, and along the way he has showered you with pleas to redeem himself, but you ignore him, you don't even look at him, and that hurts him deeply.

You cross the door and go into the room to lie down on the bed, finally you can no longer use your legs, you have never felt so weak, so useless... You let out the rest of your cry on the pillows, leaning on your hands, your chest heaving for air, the shock hasn't completely left you...

Zhongli approaches you and puts a hand on your back, but you clearly warn him not to come near you, not to touch you, and maybe you are being too hard on him, but it is what you think he deserves. 

"Go away," you order sharply, "you're supposed to be dead... you..." you speak nonsense, it's the pain of shock that overwhelms you.

"What are you saying?" Zhongli exclaims in anguish, searching for your face, though you hide it well for him. He struggles with you, trying to bring you to your senses, "I'm here, my love, it's me... I'm alive," he says, taking your hands and pressing them to his chest, where his desperate heart beats in desperation. You look at him pitifully, your eyes drenched with tears, your lip trembling.

"This is the heart of a living man," he says, "and this is the warmth of a living man's skin," he says, bringing your hands to his neck and chest, unbuttoning his shirt in a desperate act, and as the shock of his desperation strikes your complexion, you seem to snap out of your trance.

"Zhongli..." you finally whisper.

"Here I am, beautiful, I came back for you..." he muses, pressing his forehead against yours.

"You always..." you falter, "you always come back to me," your breath mingles with his, as hot as yours. You rush to his lips, so eager to taste his breath of life, the divinity escaping his mouth like groans as you bite his lip, pressing it harder against your mouth.

"This is our contract," Zhongli says between kisses, a trickle of saliva between the two of you as he removes his shirt and your clothes.

He fucks you with anger, with desire and a burning he didn't know he was holding back. And you scream, your moans high and boisterous, not caring what is happening outside or how sacrilegious it is that you are fucking while everyone outside is suffering the death of Rex Lapis... the same Rex Lapis who is pounding on your cervix with fervor and enormous force, the same one who is massaging your clitoris while sucking on one of your nipples.

"I hate you," you spit angrily, drowning out your moans as you cling to his arms.

"It's what I deserve," he says, just as vulgar as you, sonorous and quite vocal, resting one of your legs on his shoulders, "hate me all you want, y/n, but then scream my name when you cum and when you give birth to our children."

"You bastard," you moan as your fingernails leave scarlet marks on his sculpted shoulders, "don't stop.... Zhongli, don't stop," the way he pounds you is delicious and your guts know it as they twist in a hot knot as his cock makes its way into your pussy.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," he repeats, not stopping his assault, settling on top of you to look at the bulge rising in your belly where his cock is abusing you. He puts one of his hands on yours, the other massaging your thigh and the flesh on his shoulder, looking at you with a devotion that you do not recognize, as if you were a treasure, a goddess....

His hips crash mercilessly against yours, and you, as spiteful as you are horny, can't help but make the most vulgar sounds you can. You feel Zhongli's balls slapping against your skin, the frantic movement in and out of your pussy, the way something inside you seems to snap from the force of his penetration. He has you wide open for him, fully exposed, and he gives himself to you like the devotee he is when he fucks you, seeking only your pleasure.

"Zhongli..." you moan as one of your fingers gently caresses the line that divides his scarred abdomen, your digit running down the valley of his rock hard muscles....

"Let me take care of you, darling," he says, taking your hand and planting a kiss on the back of it, leaning down to capture your lips with his mouth. His tongue penetrates the roof of your mouth and you feel your throat receive the visit of such a welcome guest.

Zhongli turns you over, your body snug against the sheets, your face deep in the mattress, and he on top of you. He continues to stir your loins as he lets his chest fall on your back, his face sinking into your shoulder, and you feel that this way, so close to him, he has better access to you. His cock twists in your favorite spot, the one that makes you let out a yelp and reach out a hand for support, grasping the silk between your fingers. Zhongli intertwines his hand with yours, and there, trapped beneath his body, at the mercy of his relentless assault, he whispers a "I love you" with deep regret.

"Zhongli," you moan, completely trapped between the bed and how well he is fucking you, your hands trapped in his, "I love you...damn it...I love you," you cry out as you convulse beneath him, your orgasm erupting as he bathes your velvety walls with his white seed.

You turn your face to breathe. Zhongli doesn't let go or leave you. You stay like this for a moment, enjoying the heat the other gives off. Zhongli kisses your shoulder blade and you feel the remains of his cum leave you as he pulls his cock out of your abused hole. The empty feeling makes you moan. He doesn't let go of you at any point, clinging to you as he lies down and sets you beside him, wrapping you in his arms, securing you in an embrace as he leaves deep kisses on the back of your neck and shoulder. Your chest heaves for air, the ecstasy you feel is unlike anything you have experienced before, no previous encounter has ever been like this.

"I didn't mean it," you say, your voice hoarse, your throat scratchy from shouting, "I don't hate you...I couldn't," you turn to him, meeting amber eyes that look at you with calm and deep regret.

"Do you forgive me?" he asks in a sweet, syrupy, insistent tone. 

"My dear Morax," you whisper, taking refuge in his chest, "I forgave you the moment I felt your aching heart beat with concern for me."

These words are enough for Zhongli to ease the weight he was carrying so that he can rest his chin on your head and breathe in the scent of your hair, mixed with the smell of sex in the room.

He strokes your back, running his fingers over your small human form, downplaying the commotion outside, focusing only on you and your well-being....

[violet-eng]

Neuvillette! Headcanons 😪 

Summary: It's mostly the reasons why Neuvillette would cry…

Warning: the last one mentions 🔞 riding him. 

NSFW Neuvi headcanons here for whom it may concern. 

═══════*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══════

He would ask you if you would still love him if he was a fat worm. He cries if you say no. And the rain would fall for three days in a row

You told him that otters are the cutest creatures you've ever seen. He burst into tears. Why not him? He's an otter look alike...

He saw you talking to another man and thinks you don't love him anymore. (It was someone who asked you for directions). He cried all the way home.

Sometimes it wakes up raining because Neuvi had a nightmare, and it could be about him losing you or his memories of when he was a dragon… whatever it is, it would rain from dawn until noon.

It was raining and he heard a child say "Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry." It touched him and cried more…

He would cry in frustration because he didn't comb his braid properly.

He had never eaten ice cream before, he licked it and the ball fell out. It rained all afternoon.

He cries not only out of sadness, but also out of anger. 

He despairs of having to move on foot, before he could fly… everything would be easier if he has his wings again… It rains all day because of the helplessness of having human feet.

He can't stand it when they flirt with you, first he gets sad, then he gets angry because you laugh at him. Forecast: storm with lightning.

He got mad because you told him that braids weren't his thing. Girl, that's a signature of his style, wtf? Rain on your house, dumbass.

🔞 He cries during sex... just when you are riding him... he's such a bottom...

[violet-eng]

You give Al haitham! a bj I NSFW Alhaitham x fem!render🔞

Summary: So.. Alhaitham is now the ActingSrand Sage, and you, as the great gf you arefind Alhaitham to give him a "prize"

Tw: -+18 content, MDNI, blowjob (m!receiving,outdoors sex, established relationship.Nsfw under the cut

MDNI

2k words

Cr: Ahriii (@ahriii7) on X bc gosh that's what I imagined.

The news of Alhaitham's appointment as Acting Grand Sage has crept into your ears as you walk through the marketplace, lost in your riotous thoughts about your latest expedition.....

You hurry out of the city, eager and ready, to the place where you and he usually meet briefly, where the grass is low, the dew of the flowers floats in the air, the sweet nectar of nature, all on the shore of a lake, your lake.You find Alhaitham leaning against the trunk of a tree, holding a book in his hands, flower petals dancing in the wind, landing on his ashen hair. You approach him, and he greets you with a hint of a smile. Only you are able to draw that intimate, empathetic look from his stoic face.

"Congratulations, Acting Grand Sage," you say, sitting down next to him, your hands on the grass, damp from the dew and the proximity of the lake.

Alhaitham looks at you, a cold look for the average observer, a grateful look at your appreciations and experiences. You discover his eyes by pushing aside the fine gray locks on his forehead, meeting his loving orbs with crimson sparkles amidst a turquoise sea. Your fingers trace a path down his cheek, his skin pale and smooth, warm to your touch, until you reach his lips, tasting the corner with your digits.

"I am proud of you," you whisper, this small intimate space, just for the two of you, deserves no more than a chaste whisper.

"The title is a mere formality," he counters, his voice in a whisper, equal to yours, his hand clasping yours, on his cheek.

"Humble," you add, settling on your knees, skirt gathered over your thighs, soft flesh exposed to the grass, bathed in natural nectar, "just the way I like you.

You straddle him, dropping your weight onto his hips. Alhaitham brings his hands to your hips, sliding them over your ass in subtle movements, pure instinct taking hold of him, this man so rational and studied before you. The air becomes heavy, the space between you a chasm between your growing lust. His eyes shine, absorbed in your figure, in the contours of your face and the curve of your lips. He wants to kiss you, he's dying to, he's wanted to since you sat next to him.Alhaitham takes your chin between his fingers, his fingertips running along the angle of your chin, tilting your head to get better access to your lips. He brings his mouth to yours in a chaste, sweet, almost shy kiss that grows in intensity as the seconds pass.

He catches your lower lip with a soft nibble that shows his thirst for you, for the sweet nectar your skin gives off when he touches you, when he kisses you as he's kissing you right now. Your hands find his shoulders, his sculpted muscles feigning support for your palms. One of your hands runs up the nape of his neck, finding the base of his hair, tangling the digits between his arranged curls, making inroads into the ashen jungle of his hair.You share a wet kiss, your tongues exploring each other's every nook and cranny. Desperation grows as your hips rub against his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. The equivalent response to your action, swift and rigid, is the erect phallus beneath your clothed center.

Alhaitham grunts hoarsely, a masculine sound, as he breaks the kiss and stares at the mess you have made between his legs. His gaze dances between your face and his erection, studying the branches of possible outcomes to the current situation.Sinking into his mental expertise, he doesn't notice that you have changed your position on him. With your knees and elbows on the grass, you pull his pants off, or try to.

"Y/n, not here," the sound his lips make is drowned out by the burning sensation that spreads through his legs. The fire of excitement spreads to his chest and forehead, beads of warm sweat overflowing his eyebrows.

"There's no one around," the murmur is subtle, your good manners replaced by your lust, your hands releasing the excited excerpt of him, growing in desire as he feels contact with the open air.The tip, thick and with pre-cum surrounding its outline, the base long and broad, a throbbing mess. That part that longs to be tasted, to be devoured by your lips and to furrow the smooth folds of your throat. Alhaitham can't stop an electric shock from running down his spine as the image of your face, distorted by the penetration of his cock into your mouth, assaults his mind, a vision built on memories, past encounters.you gather your hair into a bow, Alhaitham watching every minute change in your movements, studying your anatomy, the way you arch your back, your hands behind your head as your chest pushes forward toward him.

Your cleavage gives access to his curious eyes, which see the silhouette of your breasts through the fabric."Not a good idea," he insists, against his growing instincts, against the insidious desire that overshadows rationality.

"Let me spoil you a little," you murmur, and you perceive a purr from the back of his throat, a blissful indicator of his bubbling satisfaction, "I must reward you for such an effort, at your age the attainment of titles of such caliber is a feast".Alhaitham takes one last look around, making sure no one witnesses the mess you're making of him, even though he knows you won't be conducting the symphony for long. Giving in to his baser instincts, to the sensitive, hot anticipation that has built up between the two of you, Alhaitham nods his head in a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, as if to absolve himself of the indecency that is about to take place.

You straddle him, dropping your weight onto his hips. Alhaitham brings his hands to your hips, sliding them over your ass in subtle movements, pure instinct taking hold of him, this man so rational and studied before you. The air becomes heavy, the space between you a chasm between your growing lust. His eyes shine, absorbed in your figure, in the contours of your face and the curve of your lips. He wants to kiss you, he's dying to, he's wanted to since you sat next to him.

Alhaitham takes your chin between his fingers, his fingertips running along the angle of your chin, tilting your head to get better access to your lips. He brings his mouth to yours in a chaste, sweet, almost shy kiss that grows in intensity as the seconds pass. He catches your lower lip with a soft nibble that shows his thirst for you, for the sweet nectar your skin gives off when he touches you, when he kisses you as he's kissing you right now. Your hands find his shoulders, his sculpted muscles feigning support for your palms.

One of your hands runs up the nape of his neck, finding the base of his hair, tangling the digits between his arranged curls, making inroads into the ashen jungle of his hair.You share a wet kiss, your tongues exploring each other's every nook and cranny. Desperation grows as your hips rub against his in an attempt to deepen the kiss. The equivalent response to your action, swift and rigid, is the erect phallus beneath your clothed center. Alhaitham grunts hoarsely, a masculine sound, as he breaks the kiss and stares at the mess you have made between his legs. His gaze dances between your face and his erection, studying the branches of possible outcomes to the current situation.

Sinking into his mental expertise, he doesn't notice that you have changed your position on him. With your knees and elbows on the grass, you pull his pants off, or try to.

"Y/n, not here," the sound his lips make is drowned out by the burning sensation that spreads through his legs. The fire of excitement spreads to his chest and forehead, beads of warm sweat overflowing his eyebrows.

"There's no one around," the murmur is subtle, your good manners replaced by your lust, your hands releasing the excited excerpt of him, growing in desire as he feels contact with the open air.

The tip, thick and with pre-cum surrounding its outline, the base long and broad, a throbbing mess. That part that longs to be tasted, to be devoured by your lips and to furrow the smooth folds of your throat. Alhaitham can't stop an electric shock from running down his spine as the image of your face, distorted by the penetration of his cock into your mouth, assaults his mind, a vision built on memories, past encounters.you gather your hair into a bow, Alhaitham watching every minute change in your movements, studying your anatomy, the way you arch your back, your hands behind your head as your chest pushes forward toward him. Your cleavage gives access to his curious eyes, which see the silhouette of your breasts through the fabric.

"Not a good idea," he insists, against his growing instincts, against the insidious desire that overshadows rationality.

"Let me spoil you a little," you murmur, and you perceive a purr from the back of his throat, a blissful indicator of his bubbling satisfaction, "I must reward you for such an effort, at your age the attainment of titles of such caliber is a feast".

Alhaitham takes one last look around, making sure no one witnesses the mess you're making of him, even though he knows you won't be conducting the symphony for long. Giving in to his baser instincts, to the sensitive, hot anticipation that has built up between the two of you, Alhaitham nods his head in a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, as if to absolve himself of the indecency that is about to take place.

Your hands perfectly frame the vertices of his erection, blissful fingers smooth against his sensitive skin, your palms molding to the expanse of his flesh, valleys known and explored, familiarity providing the right atmosphere. A deep sigh escapes from the back of his throat, falling to his lips in growing fervor at the pleasurable sensation the gentle alternating motion of your hands elicits from him. Alhaitham's heartbeat, almost as audible as the subtle, trembling, choked moans that leap from his chest, penetrate his ears, the blood flow swirling in the innermost corners."Whew, baby~" he slurred the grainy words, remnants of composure in his voice, his throat eroding his musical compliment, his hips parting slightly from the floor in an attempt to get more friction on your velvety hands."Patience," you coo as your hands squeeze his extension sharply. Alhaithman's chin contracts in a spasm, a worldly grimace of how well your hands are working him, as his lips, parted in a perfect 'o', utter the most mellifluous sounds ever heard from him.

Alhaithman's moans are lost amidst the crash of the nearby waterfall against the rocks, beautifully deposited amidst rippling seaweed, the gasps, wide and low, emerging from deep within his chest, the heart tangled in an elixir of sensations and pains, so submitted to you, so exposed… not the way the Acting Grand Sage should behave, no….

For he has always been the living image of an ideal scholar. Inconsistencies torment him, logic and formality rob him of the ability to allow himself to enjoy this afternoon with you, your hands so skillfully igniting sparks in his legs and swelling his balls.With his head thrown back, Alhaitham gives in to the dark desires of his baser instincts, ignoring the paradigm of his title and position in the Academy.

And his reactions are so ingrained in you that you notice the change in his posture, the change in his breathing pattern, and the anxious hesitation of his hands. His fingers move like hooks, painful spasms in his joints, his silhouette indicates what he desires, what reaches deep to escape him.

With every groan, every throbbing and every exaltation, Alhatitham sheds his virtues, his famous stoicism, and submits to your touch, to your warm, fine caresses on his cock, which feels so painfully well cared for by your palms.His chest is abused by the frantic beating of his heart, by the way his lungs swell for air, shuddering gasps escape his lips as he feels your tongue wipe away the drops of pre-cum that drip like pearls from his cock.

The familiar bitter sweetness permeates your taste buds. Your name escapes his lips in a plea, a muffled moan following the last syllable of your name. The frenzy of desire to be devoured by your mouth dulls the last drop of dignity the scribe has left."So pretty," he flatters, trying to appeal to your kindness, to free him from the torment of your tongue. You smile over his expanse, the warmth of your breath on his sensitive skin sending shock waves up his throat, where he stifles any number of embarrassing sounds.Your lips finally make the move Grand Sage craves, parting perfectly in an 'o' to give him access to his big fat cock in your mouth. The breath of your gasps embrace his length as it slides over your tongue, the taste of his skin mingling with your saliva, the way your throat tightens as he advances inside you.

"I so needed your mouth, y/n," he murmurs, so low you can barely hear him, as subtle as he is dirty, his words like granite on his wet lips.Your tongue dances around his phallus, taking it into your mouth in an explosion of pleasure and the burning caresses of your palate rubbing against its pulsating surface. Alhaitham falls to the lowest of his instincts as he brings one of his hands to the nape of your neck, grabbing your hair in a fist and tangling it in his slender, long fingers to bring your head further down on his cock.

You feel the penetration down your throat, across the curve of your arch, down of your neck, the rings of your throat cavity scraping his length, the nausea coming and your watery eyes staring into his.

"So accommodating, my y/n, not even the Akasha has enough knowledge for someone to be able to do this as well as you," he expresses as he watches you from his position, the height giving him some authority over you, the imposing posture over your figure.

Your eyelashes flutter as pearls of tears hang from your eyes, your gaze blurry, raging ecstasy. You have completely lost control, for it is he who now takes the baton, fucking your throat as if his life depended on it. The flow of the waterfall is peaceful, as are the grunts Alhaitham's chest emits as your saliva bathes his cock and his throat contracts in delicate spasms."Fuck, how good your little mouth is," he gasps, hoarse and husky, the movements of his hand showing his frenzy and his thirst for you, the caresses of your tongue and the way your throat expands to receive him. The revolutions increase, decency is gone and the lack of rhythm means that he is about to cum.

"I'm going to empty my balls into your mouth," he announces, raising his hips to meet your chin, and from the impact a slimy melody is born, an erotic crash and an irregular frisson."Shit, y/n!" his expression is vulgar, the same way his face contorts as his orgasm floods your mouth and a rivulet of milk overflows your corners, your lips turning bright white."How beautiful," he mentions as his fingers lift your chin and caress the contours of your jaw. Your eyes meet his as you swallow his seed, earning a nod of approval from him.Alhaitham is a bit grotesque when it comes to social relations, his lack of tact and almost complete lack of empathy make him a purely rational subject, except when he is with you, when you sit next to him after adjusting his trousers and he gives you a warm smile, or when you rest your head on his shoulder and he lets out a pleasant sigh… and shows his affection towards you, especially when he wipes the remains of his cum from your lips, wanting to restore your respectable facade after the good blow job you gave him…

[violet-eng]

Kaeya! returns from a long trip and finds fem!bard!reader wearing his clothes at a festival | NSFW 🔞

Someone (@coreakin-sakarat) asked this, and I'm here for this kind of fantasies... just sometimes

Summary: The festivals (Christmas actually) are arriving to Mondstadt, and you (a bard) act like Kaeya in front of the kids. He returns from a journey and finds you wearing his clothes and acting like him (basically flirting), which awake a fantasy he'll definitely do with you.

Warnings: Content +18. Masturbation, fingering, p i v. Relationship established. Outdoor sex.

WC: 2k 🎨 by: @ArtLinXin on X

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Kaeya's departure had affected you deeply. While his absence had not been a source of unhappiness for you before, his absence this time meant a very unexpected change in your intrusion.

Captain Kaeya Alberich had left three weeks ago. Whatever his assignment was, Kaeya was taking up more of his time than usual, and that disturbed your psyche in unfortunate ways. The festivities were approaching at breakneck speed, something had happened last year that caused the days to pass more quickly. The festivities were just around the corner....

Every year, Kaeya had taken time out of his busy schedule to visit the Mondstadt Adventurers' Guild to tell the children about his adventures and answer any questions they might have. This year, however, he was still out of town, far from the villages, busy near the walls of Sumeru.

"Who will take care of the children this year?" Barbara asked, a sharp, desperate tone in her voice.

"I could help," you reassured the young woman.The idea had suddenly occurred to you, in your homeland you were called a buffoon and a clown... in Mondstadt you were called like Venti: a bard, and you were the joy of the children.

You had donned Kaeya's cloak, gloves, and cape, the design draped over your shoulder like a wing, giving you the appearance of the owner of the garments. The need to play his role had consumed you, as it had long ago when you sang songs about the Battle of the Archons or performed some anthology pretending to be a warrior of the past....

You were on the outskirts of Dragonspine, in the camp the Knights of Favonius had set up for the people. Various figures in the snow and amusing sculptures made by the children, bonfires and torches all around, as well as various colorful decorations, all in keeping with the festivities.

You chatted with the children about the adventures Kaeya had told you during the dinners around the fire in your shared home, you acted them out for them as if you were him, you swung your sword and even threw back the cloth of your cloak as Kaeya used to do.

You drank, fuck, you drank as if Kaeya had possessed your soul, and you joked with Diluc as if you were 'brothers'. With some people you even became seductive, charming and flirtatious. You couldn't help it, his personality had taken over you.

"Y/n?"

They called your name, and all your theatrics were destroyed with the mere utterance of your name from HIS lips, with HIS tone of voice....

"Kaeya?" you turned to him, who was analyzing you with crossed arms. He cocked his head and you did the same, he walked towards you, his steps precise and with a certain rhythm, you imitated him.

"It bothers me," he said....

"Does it bother you that I look so attractive with these facades?" you asked, putting your hands on your hips, he just nodded slowly, a ripple of new emotions running down his spine.

"Well, you should see me without them," you whispered, very sure of yourself.

Reality hit you like a bucket of cold water. You had never behaved like that, you were not shameless, you never made advances to your boyfriend, he took care of that in the relationship. Maybe that was why he had taken you by the hand and forced you to walk behind him, away from the festival, away from the people... away from any curious eyes that might be disturbed by the spectacle Kaeya wanted you to give him.

"I didn't think you were so bold," he said as he sank his face into your shoulder, inhaling the mixture of your scent and his, cursed goblet, this formula was driving him crazy.

He had carried you to one of his makeshift campsites and laid you on poorly arranged sheets while his hands slipped under your clothes.

"Mmh~" you sighed and tried to pull away his hands that were under your blouse, massaging your breasts.

"Cat's got your tongue?" he asked, a mischievous smile peeking through his lips, "I'll take this off...it's mine..." he said, taking off your coat.

"Does it bother you that your clothes look better on me than on you?" you blurted out suddenly, your voice calm, your face a clear poem.

"Brat," he whispered, kissing your chin, wet caresses from his lips and tongue, "I have to fuck this nasty behavior away from you."

"Try," fuck, what was wrong with you? Testing him like that wasn't your thing, you had a hard time getting rid of his philosophy.

"I want to hear you say it," he ordered, towering over you as he took off his clothes.

"Say what?" you asked.

"The salute you made," he said as he took off his gloves, the one on his left hand with his teeth.

"Enchantée," you said, mimicking his tone.

"You're so much like me," he let out a soft laugh, "I fucked you so well, so deeply, I literally left some of me in you, huh? Or maybe you missed me so much that you went crazy?"

"Kaeya don't say things like that, someone might hear you," you whispered.

"That's the y/n I know," he said as his hands moved down your hips, pulling your pants down to your ankles.

"Take off your panties, my dear," he said as he undid his boxers, leaving him completely naked.

You did as he commanded, remaining clothed from the top but uncovered from the waist down. Kaeya lay in front of you, propped up on one elbow, like a painting. Tan skin, lean muscles shaping his skin, sculpted torso and abdomen, masculine arms accentuated by his work. One of his legs was bent, the other relaxed, the throbbing member peeking over his thighs.

"Touch yourself," he commanded, and you looked at him, stunned.

"What?" was all that could come out of your mouth."You heard me," he reiterated, his voice firm and thick.

"Cl~ close up the tent tight," you said, the thought of showing off in front of him had dampened your center.

"I won't, I want the moonlight to come in, I want to watch you sink your fingers into you with my clothes on," he said.

You couldn't help it, the thought of him ordering you around, seeing himself exposed in front of you, eager to see you fumble with his own clothes while his cock throbbed in anticipation of your performance to satisfy his fantasy.You propped yourself up on your elbows and spread your knees, your fingers sliding delicately under your belly, tracing your groin and reaching the oasis between your thighs.

"Eyes on me," he said, "eyes on me, all the time."

You couldn't, of course not, you weren't going to masturbate in front of him, looking at his face, that beautiful tanned face framed by blue curls. But you couldn't avoid giving in to your instincts, the shameful desire to feel yourself prey to him.

Without taking your eyes off him, you slipped your fingers between your folds, your fingers immediately soaking in your wetness, the glistening of your juices reflected in the bright moonlight peeking out of the tent where you both surrendered to your most painful fantasies.You parted your folds and captured your throbbing clit with your finger. You shuddered at the contact and let out a barely audible moan.

"I want to hear you," he declared, who had remained motionless, his pose the same, "don't limit yourself."

An embarrassed moan escaped your lips, the movements of your fingers were precise, pressing every fiber of your nervous bulge, tearing at your belly with pleasure, wrenching the most pitiful expressions from your face. The rhythm increased, the sound of your fluids sloshing against your fingers in time with your lustful gasps.Your other hand slipped into your entrance, your fingers penetrating your rubbery walls, the sound of wetness filling Kaeya's ears as he began to take care of his cock.He clenched his member in a fist and slid his hand in time with your fingers, both masturbating in sync.

The red head of his cock sought relief, pre-cum leaking from the tip, Kaeya's muscles tensing from the movement.

"Just like that, pretty," he gasped, the movement of his hand mimicking the rhythm of yours. His other hand in a fist, clutching at nothing, prey to the pleasure he took in seeing you like that, open to him.

"Kaeya~" his name slipped from your lips in an awkward moan, pain turning to pleasure, shame turning to lust.

"Yes y/n, say my name," he added, throwing his head back, his fist clutching his cock as if it was your pussy, beads of sweat running down his forehead and neck. He was desperate, he was losing his mind….

"Ka… Kaeya… please… please," you begged between sobs, moans caught in your throat, your sex throbbing for more than just your fingers.

"Ask me for whatever you want, y/n," he said, sitting down in front of you, closer, never stopping his erotic movement.

"You know what I want," you said, your fingers still in your sex, your hands caressing his.

"I want to hear you," he said, resting his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling, desperate sighs meeting in a desperate dance.

"Please, y/n. I can't help you if you don't tell me clearly," Kaeya added, his chest rising and falling, breath escaping his lips.

Your noses brushed together, your eyes closed, your forehead furrowed… you didn't want to say it, it was embarrassing, but you needed it, you needed it now more than ever.

"Help me cum," you blurted out the sentence without remorse, knowing that he would never deny you an orgasm.

In one quick move, as quick as the situation and your clouded minds allowed, Kaeya took your hand and smothered his cock with it as his fingers slid into your tight hot hole in one deep slice.

"Agh~" you moaned as your walls sucked in his digits, your chin pressed to your chest, your shoulders tense, Kaeya's chin nestled in your neck, the breath of his moans in your ear.

"You missed me," he whispered, the warmth of his tone sending electric waves through your body.

He was right, you had longed for him these past weeks, it was almost sickening the need you had for him, and your body expressed that longing to be penetrated by his long, smooth fingers through volatile spasms.

Your hand didn't close around his thick cock, your fingers weren't long enough to do it, and that enraptured him. Resting his hand on the floor next to your hip, Kaeya leaned further into you, sinking his fingers deeper into your little pussy, parting the digits inside you, widening you for him.

"That… that… feels so… good," your words were a swirl of emotions, soft spasms between the lunges of his fingers.

You clung to him with one arm, digging your nails into his defined back, while your other hand continued its work on his cock, rubbing heavenly.

Your pussy clung even tighter to his fingers, and Kaeya knew what that meant….

"Cum on my fingers, y/n, I need you to come," he said, sounding more like a plea than a command.

"Kaeya~" your nails, marking his flesh under your nails, leaving crimson marks on his skin as he fingered that sensitive spot in your walls. You hadn't had a squirt in months, and this single movement was enough to get one.

Kaeya wrenched a shuddering orgasm from you, you screamed as you seemed to convulse as your volatile walls leaked fluid onto your lover's fingers. He held your head as you climaxed, your hand no longer on his cock, but on his thigh covered in his seed. The scene of you coming had brought him to his limit as well.

The scent of pine needles hung in the air, enveloping Kaeya and you in a cocoon of nature's embrace. Your hearts beat in unison, echoing the rhythmic cadence of your intertwined bodies.

The fire crackled softly outside the tent, casting dancing shadows on the canvas walls. Inside, the dim light illuminated your passion, illuminating the raw, visceral connection between you.

Kaeya stared at your glowing skin, your eyes locked with his as your bodies pressed tightly together.

You felt the heat of his breath against your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"Y/n," he whispered hoarsely, as if evoking a memory, his voice barely audible over the low whisper of the wind outside.

His lips curved into a gentle smile, his fingers tracing delicate patterns along your back.

"It feels like we've been apart forever."

He kissed you softly, the taste of your mouth making him even more intoxicated.

His hands roamed your body, feeling every curve and valley, every muscle and sinew. You responded with enthusiasm, your hands exploring his form with equal fervor. Your passion grew more intense, the fire between you threatening to consume you completely.

As he stripped you of the last of your clothes, you delighted in looking at each other, naked and vulnerable. Kaeya admired the way your breasts bounced gently with each breath, your nipples erect and inviting.

He leaned down and kissed you gently before taking one nipple between his lips and sucking gently until you moaned in pleasure.

His hand moved between your legs, fingers finding your wetness, sliding inside you, teasing your clit. You arched your back, pressing against him, digging your nails into his skin.

"I want you," you whispered huskily, your voice barely audible over the sounds of your passion. "Now."

Kaeya didn't need to be told twice; he positioned himself at your entrance and entered you, slowly at first, then faster, harder.

Your cries filled the small space around you, echoing off the tent walls like a symphony of pleasure. Kaeya embraced you, feeling your heart racing wildly beneath his fingers as he sank deeper into you. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy through your body, making you arch your back and moan loudly.

"Fuck~" you cried out, meeting each of your movements with one of his.

Your bodies moved together as if in choreography, perfectly in tune with each other's desires. You could feel his muscles tense around you, drawing him deeper into your depths.

"You feel so good," you gasped, your voice strained from the effort.

Your hands gripped Kaeya's shoulders, your nails digging into his flesh just enough to remind you how much you wanted him.

You arched your back, pressing even harder against him, wanting more of him inside you.

"I want you too," Kaeya moaned, his body shaking with desire. His mouth found yours again, kissing it passionately, sucking greedily at your lips. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you closer to him, pressing even harder against you.

Your bodies were now slick with sweat, your skin glistening in the dim light of the tent. You moaned softly, your voice a gentle purr against Kaeya's ear.

"Please, Kaeya, don't stop," you whispered, your words barely penetrating the thick air between you. You felt his muscles tense under your fingers, an answer to your pleas.

He buried his face in your neck as he kissed you softly. You knew what he was thinking: he was desperate, eager to please you. Your legs wrapped around his waist, holding him tight as he thrust deep into you.

Your orgasm exploded between the two of you, fragments of greed and lust, of ambition for your bodies, of belonging to each other.

He kissed you as if your soul was escaping through your lips, as if he wanted to own every last fragment of your being. He wrapped you in an embrace, warmth traveling between the two of you, traces of your orgasm.

"I love you," Kaeya whispered, very much like him after such a round.

"Don't go away again, please," you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"If I leave for too long, I promise to take you with me," he whispered, leaving a kiss on your cheek and another on your chin. A smile on your neck was the last thing you felt before you fell asleep. ….

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Omg girl I hope you liked it. I tried. I swear you.

Merry Christmas to you all btw!

Next post will be about Alhaitham bc sir... those arms are driving me crazy. As you can see I haven't slept well.

[violet-eng]

So u telling me i can ask anything?..?

SO👹

GNSHIN MEN FANFIC POV U WEAR THERE HOODIES AND COTHES AND ACT LIKE THEM....PLS INCLUDE KAEYA HARD NSFW 👹👹👹👹👹👹u can add your character oh and sprinkle a little bit of fluff in the end as they apologize for making u unable to walk for a month 😗female reader.THANK UUU🥶

Cosplay and then rough sex session with Kaeya? I'm in.

I'll give it a try. I literally just finished my finals (they ended me) and I feel like dying.

It may be fun to write about it... Kaeya is just so... uffff