𝗗𝗢𝗘𝗦 𝗛𝗘 𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗙𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗢 𝗚𝗜𝗩𝗘/𝗥𝗘𝗖𝗘𝗜𝗩𝗘

✧˖*°࿐ “COULD I…HELP YOU?”

… in which the genshin hybrids maybe, possibly let you help with their heats/ruts

FEATURING: gorou, tighnari, & yae miko.

WARNINGS: afab reader; do you consider eating yae out at the shrine sacrilege because if so then uh. um. scratches my neck awkwardly

NOTE/S: hey! i’m new and i eat requests UP. if u enjoy my work, pls leave a request and i’ll see if i can do it!

— GOROU

✧ He tries not to mention it to you. Key word; tries. More often than not he’s dealt with his…biological problems…during combat, and when you are leading an entire rebellion, getting off probably isn’t your top concern. Is it annoying? Yes. Does it make him irritable and short-tempered and want to commit violent crimes against the nation? Also yes. He goes absolutely apeshit insane during the worst of his cycle and chances are if you happen to be on the front lines with him you’ll see him lose his goddamn mind because while he may be a very high-ranking general he is also a bitch to the biological system and, archons, the frustration he has to otherwise ignore gets fueled into his job. he commits war crimes against the state

✧ That is, of course, until you. You are now a new factor in his life and considering that you’re not only fighting beside him but also more often than not sleeping over in his tent, bringing him food after he returns to camp, or doing who-knows-what-else, you’re bound to find out one way or another. His leading fear is that you’ll have a rather rude awakening to his issue after arriving at his tent a little too late and finding him trying to sleep, trying, because he doesn’t get much of that anymore between war and also hormones, but he’s afraid you’ll be a little too late and instead of him sleeping you’ll find him halfway curled over himself with his tortured dick slick in his hands and fierce red bleeding over his face as he tries to sate the carnal urge seething in his loins.

✧ He eventually tells you, sort of; he brings you in well before his cycle starts and tells you, as calmly as he can manage, that you should stay away from his tent because the coming week is going to be hard for him. You misunderstand, initially, and immediately start reassuring him that if the resistance is running low on supplies or rations or defenses you’ll go out no problem to provide assistance. This then leads to him having to explain that no, this isn’t anything to do with the resistance, it’s a…it’s a biological problem, and it makes me…frustrated, it frustrates me, and I don’t think I could live with myself if you got caught in the crossfire. He’s really trying not to stumble over his words — this is incredibly embarrassing, incredibly, like, tail-trying-to-tuck embarrassing — but he’s doing his best, and what more could you ask?

✧ You’re not stupid. Biological problems making him frustrated to the point of not being able to see you? He’s dancing around the whole core of the thing and so you half-laugh and look at him and his slumping ears and semi-tucked tail and rose-tinted cheeks and ask him, point blank, if he’s trying to explain rut. He seems almost scandalized by you putting it so simply, but with a whiny groan and guiltily-closing eyes he nods and affirms your suspicions. Now he’s trying to excuse himself; it’s not a big deal, I’ll be fine, I just…it would be best for you to stay away, stay away while I’m dealing with it, but you’re not having it. Obviously, he’s used to dealing with his primal side on his own, but now he has you; perhaps your clear-thinking, never-having-dealt-with-a-rut conscience is what makes you wait for him to finish rushing through his panicked monologue before you step forward, take his hand in yours, and ask if it would be a better idea for him to just…get it out of his system. You know, for the efforts of the resistance and all. It can’t be good to have General Top Dog Gorou not completely focused on the fight, right? So maybe he should just…you know, let you spend the night this coming week and just let his biological problem run its course. You know, for the resistance.

At this point, you aren’t sure whether the damp spot under your cheek is from spit or tears. You can’t exactly check either; it’s like your muscles aren’t listening to you anymore. They’re so rigid it hurts, so stiff you can’t move unless you want to lose what little composure you have left. You’re hot, so hot; despite being clothed in what are now torn-up, ragged shreds of fabric, you feel stifled, overheated; it’s not coming from your surroundings, but rather, your gut, from somewhere deep in your gut, the same place that’s making every muscle go stiff and your legs practically vibrate and your eyes roll back and oh, please, the same place that Gorou keeps hitting, blunt tip spearing up against and hammering into overdrive.

The thought swirls hazily in your head for half a second before you feel hard, slick length pull out of you, bump heavily against the back of your thigh before you hear a shuffle and then a hot tongue is prodding at your sobbing hole, carving searing lines through the thick glaze of spit, pre, and arousal coating the hot space between your legs and flooding over to the insides of your thighs. It’s been like this for so long, so long — you’ve lost track of time. You force a rolled-back eye to come forward; you gaze blearily at the ceiling of the tent, try to find the glow of the moon but it’s no use, not when everything is blurred together with tears and the world feels like it’s spinning and—

Gorou whines between your legs, laps up the arousal your cunt is all but drooling out by this point. His face is glued to you; a broken, absent consideration for whatever little things he’s got in here crosses through your mind as you hear the telltale whisk of fur on tent.

You’re leaning your hips back, ready this time when he mounts back up behind you. Both hands grope around your hips, claw at the seams of your thighs and finally find purchase quite literally on the hill of your pelvis. His chest lays up on your back; he’s burning up, skin on fire as his canines latch onto your ear and his breath threatens to burn your cheek. He doesn’t speak; he can’t, you don’t think, vocabulary reduced to a handful of pants, moans, and breathy half-words, slurred “m’gon, m’gonna, hol’n” as his stiff cockhead prods through your slit and nudges back into the sopping warmth of your cunt. Something clatters to the floor; if the rhythmic, quickening thump of his tail furiously hitting the floor in tandem with his pistoning hips, he’s close, again. How many times had he already? Four? Five, maybe? He’s still going at it as hard as he had in the start; the only indicator that his stamina is lessening is how sloppy he’s getting with his motions. He’s constantly groping around for a hold on your slick skin despite having found one immediately when this all first started; his breathing has steadily grown more labored, and you can feel saliva soaking down your neck as his teeth find purchase beside your nape and he bites down, some last effort to anchor himself as his hips twitch and a fresh rope of heat spills out against that spot deep in your gut.

— TIGHNARI

✧ Much unlike the aforementioned general, his methods of dealing with his rut are…indulgent. He knows better than anyone what the rut is and why it does what it does and how to best work with it. The other researches know this; they know that sometimes, for no apparent reason at all, he writes up a whole patrol schedule for the next several days and sends himself out on the further ones; he’ll disappear for days at a time, often excusing himself with reasoning along the lines of studying the forest over a period of days to ensure that the Withering isn’t rearing its head, or that he wants to record the state of certain formerly-affected plants over a longer section of time. Both are rather normal reasons to be excused for so long; plus, Collei’s got home base under control, and his absences aren’t necessarily unusual. So, it works.

✧ If you pry enough — but wait, Tighnari, we might need you, we’ve got this thing we’re doing…how long will you be gone for? — he’ll explain it to you, and he’ll do so rather eloquently which is wild considering that he’s really just talking about how he gets ridiculously, unbearably horny for a week or so at a time and fucks his hands several dozen times over. He explains it scientifically, simply, and comfortably; he’s casual about what he’s talking about and maybe that’s why you have to do a double take and, as he’s walking out to check on Collei and make sure she’s got things covered, you sort of sputter and turn around and ask if he’s going into rut. He just pauses, looks over his shoulder, and blinks — you feel kind of stupid when he just looks at you and dubiously goes “yes?” Somehow, despite him being the one who’s literally distancing himself so he can masturbate in peace, you feel awkward and exposed. In any case, he just walks away, very casually, to check in on Collei, leaving you to realize that oh, oh, that’s…oh.

✧ When you stop him the night before he leaves — he’s packing a satchel of whatever he needs, you’d guess — you’re the one who’s shifting on your feet and hot in the face as you ask if he needs any help. He just blinks at you, asks what you mean, and flicks an ear when you open your mouth to answer and stammer out something about helping to carry something to his temporary campsite. He says he appreciates the offer but he’s got it managed just fine; plus, he adds, you don’t want to be around someone under (what he calls) animalistic instinct. You don’t quite know how to say that uh, well, haha, funny you say that, because I kind of do, and so you just say you’re worried about him going off on his own. He laughs — he finds that quite endearing — and tells you he’ll be fine. He tells you to go get some sleep; if it’ll make you feel better, he’ll bring you some spoils from the jungle when he gets back, so you can look forward to his return for reasons other than the obvious.

✧ Which, of course, doesn’t work. He disappears the next morning, as expected, but thanks to literally scouting the whole fucking jungle a good bit of adventurer’s expertise you stumble across his camp. Camp, consisting of a hollowed-out tree stump and the starts of a nest constructed from underbrush and reeds. It doesn’t take long to find the fox himself; upon seeing you he’s quick to jump into scolding, to which you literally have to cut him off and say that no, no, you know why he’s here and you’ll leave but also you meant it if he wanted help, like you really meant it, and…

Hands balled into fists, crushing willowy reed-stems in your grasp; to say you’re being drilled into is an understatement. The world had smelled initially like the jungle — damp soil, wild flowers, sweet wood — but now it smells hot, rough, almost wild.

And it’s all because of him.

Breath coming in short, thick half-pant, half-grunts, Tighnari’s chasing refuge from the need exploding through his system; it’s evident in the tendons defined down his neck, the blueish veins starting to stick up under his skin, the sheen of sweat painting his skin a glossy golden-cream. His face tips back; quivering under him, you watch as he groans into the hot, enclosed air of his carved-out camp, watch as he swallows, hard, as if to calm himself down.

Fat chance of that, you manage to think, lifting your head just a little to try a glance at your hips. Your prostrate hips, flat against the jungle floor, legs split apart to leave room for the sharp-eyed hybrid overhead to thrust up into you.

“Is this what you wanted?” His voice is surprisingly steady, considering how hard his hips are rutting and how aggressive the slap of skin on skin has gotten. His voice is aimed down at you; he’s looking down, now, watching your expression change with sardonic eyes. Both tall ears sit almost-flat against his head; he finds you funny, right now, funny even though you’re the one he’s been so desperately fucking into. “Helping me move my stuff, huh?”

You open your mouth to answer and can’t. He knows damn well what you’d meant; he knew it then, too, when he said he’d be just fine on his own. A test to see how far you’d go, perhaps, and one that you’d succeeded. Going on a wild hunt through a jungle to go find him is certainly something, he thinks — and what kind of thanks would it be if he didn’t let you give this whole bitch thing a whirl?

Your breathing breaks as his pace grows quicker; he never falters, not even when you grab on around the small of his back snd dig your nails into the smooth planes of his back. “Gonna,” you gasp, almost voiceless; “gonna, gonna, ‘Nari, gonna…”

Black fur curls against your ankle and trails up your thigh. He finds it funny, how quick you are to break under him; but oh, silly you. Silly, silly you. One round…that won’t do. But you know that, don’t you? That’s why you came out here; to ruin yourself, or to let him ruin you. Isn’t it?

— YAE MIKO

WOMEN. WOMEN RRRRRRAUGH THIS IS MOMMY

✧ If you think anyone is gonna know shit when this woman deals with a heat cycle then you’re wrong. Wrong. Yes, it is very frustrating and yes, she’s well aware of that feeling being there and yes, archons, she’s very poignantly aware that you, her little admirer — she’s poignantly aware that whenever you’re around she finds that feeling getting a little stronger and a little harder to ignore because maybe, maybe she’s a little…a little interested in you, and maybe those comments that sound flirty but you’ve always just chalked up to her being her mean a little more than she lets on, but…no, no. She won’t tell you that. It would be embarrassing and also weird; even Ei doesn’t know about it, and Ei knows most things. She knows her rosy-haired, sly-eyed familiar has taken a liking to you, and she’s mentioned it in brief teasing every now and again — in Ei’s mind, she should really just tell you because human life is short and eternity is damn long — but what she doesn’t know is that hr same rosy-haired, sly-eyed familiar finds somewhere, anywhere — hell, half the time it’s at the shrine where she won’t be bothered — and fucks herself with her hand and pretends it’s you, pretends, and she feels more than slightly foul afterward because she’s doing it at a sacred shrine but archons, screw it, she needs to take care of this or she’ll provoke Ei into another bad decision with her attitude.

✧ Speaking of which; it’s after another casual wander through Inazuma with Ei that you head up to visit her foxy familiar. Much unlike the many times you’ve seen her here before, she’s not in front of that sacred tree; no, she’s staring off into the fenced-off pond, and she looks very far away, like her head’s not all here. Upon calling for her, she seems to come back; she finds your eyes, offers you a charming little smile, and shuffles over as if to make room for you despite her current spot already being separated from the main crowd. Internally, she’s cursing herself for how her heart beats a little harder against her ribs and how the warmth between her legs starts to spread up into her gut, twists around her rationale and puts her world in a haze. Being in the depths of a heat cycle, specifically around you, has her almost scattered; she hears all of your questions well after you ask them and she answers even more delayed than that and so maybe that’s why you’re suddenly so close, trying to get closer to her face with your expression wrought and eyes worried as you ask if she’s feeling alright.

✧ She should push you away. She should, really, because you’re so warm, and you smell so nice and sweet and you look so pretty and untouched and — no, no, she should push you away, but she can’t. She’ll hide it under some smooth, late remark — I’m feeling fine; is this just an excuse to get closer to me? — but the little voice in her head is screaming at her to grab you by the nape and drag you off to a quiet, hidden corner and wreck you because you’re hers, hers, her sweet thing, hers…

✧ You don’t look alright. Have you been sleeping enough? Oh, ever-so-innocent, ever-so-sweet you, concerned suddenly that maybe the thin mountain air has gotten her sick as you press your palm to her forehead to see and — you’re burning up, you’re actually burning up, we need…do you have medicine? I’m not sure if familiars carry medicine, but we can head down to the village…no, no, I’ll head down, you stay here and I’ll bring something back for you, or…

✧ She finally manages a no. No, she doesn’t need medicine; trying to manage to keep her voice from dropping, she gives you the simple explanation of this happens sometimes and medicine won’t do anything about it, and you’re kind of confused because does she mean her period? do fox familiars get periods? when fox familiars get periods do they suddenly burn up like they’ve got a bad fever? but then you realize fox and oh, oh, you think you get it now. It must be evident on your face; oh, you say, face going hot, oh, sorry, I…do you need anything? I can leave you alone — sorry, I didn’t know, this is probably a bad time… but she’s just looking at you, now, and you don’t quite know what to do before you feel hot fingers wrap around your wrist and nails poke your skin. She’s trying to keep up the act; are you asking to help? she manages, suave tone just slightly shaky, and you’re sort of left sitting there dealing with the moral question of whether or not fucking the Electro Archon’s familiar is something you’ll get tit-sword’d for but ultimately, looking at slightly-heaving Miko with her eyes almost glowing and her skin starting to burn yours and oh, is that a blush you’re seeing? you decide that maybe getting tit-sword’d is worth it.

For being such a smooth talker, Yae Miko is awfully messy when it comes to sex. At least, this kind of sex. The sex where she’s dragged you rather hurriedly and rather unceremoniously behind one of the buildings atop the shrine, practically shoved you up against the wooden wall and swallowed any complaints or remarks you may have had about the manner between her lips. Dominant, yes — but messy. Messy, in the way her mouth can’t seem to stay on yours and instead slips off, wets the corners of your mouth and down under your jaw when you try and fail to gasp for breath. Messy, in the way that her hands are immediately moving; one raking down your spine, the other digging into your nape, and then both to your sides, and then one up under your blouse to tear apart the buttons and get a handful of your chest. Messy, in the way that despite her heat being at its worst, especially being neglected for so long, she insists on marking you; you don’t know if the Shogun’s eyes see the shrine but oh, oh, you hope they don’t, because you’re pinned to a wall with her familiar licking and biting and sucking on the soft spots under your jaw so hard that you’re heaving and debating on whether or not it’s okay to wrap your arms behind her head and draw her deeper into you because it feels like fire, it feels like fire on your throat…

“On your knees,” she purrs shakily, breath hot on your neck. “On your knees, get on your knees…you said you’d help me, didn’t you? Be good…listen to me, listen…”

And so, you do. And, really, you shouldn’t be surprised but oh, the way she watches you drop weakly to your knees, land softly in the grass with the wooden wall burning up your back — it’s too much, it’s too much, and your eyes have gone drunken before she can even start to move her clothes, move the pretty white silk out of the way and she’s lowering herself, too, but she really doesn’t have to. She doesn’t have to, because you’re drunk on desire and maybe that’s what gives you the confidence to touch her, wrap a shaky hand around her thigh and stretch up, duck under her dress guys im so sorry it might be a kimono but i actually do not know and i dont want to use the wrong terminology and sound dumb please help and…oh, she smells so sweet, so warm and sweet and—

She swears she sees stars. The long, pitched-tailed moan she lets out is evidence of it; nails scrape along your nape as you tongue at the heat burning fiercely between her thighs, taste thick, sugared arousal on your tongue and groan as you lap for more. She gives you no instructions, no limits, and so you just go all in; you wrap an arm around her waist to steady yourself as you let go of her thigh, reach up with your now-free hand and spread slick, soaked folds apart to get on the source. Her breathing is labored; you can feel her pulse stuttering when the tip of your tongue finds her pulsing cunt, pushes in only to get tightened on. Something warm and soft brushes the hand behind her back; you’ve seen the ghost of her tail a few times but it sure as fuck feels real now, beating against her thigh as you latch onto the sweet well between her thighs and practically drink the effect of her heat as it dribbles down your chin. Heaven, you’re in heaven, and oh, archons, so is she; the wooden wall behind you groans as she shifts, assumably to rest her weight against it as her thighs steady against your head and close you off to the outside world.

Since the anons feel that the dollhouse au is too cute to be real horror, I shall try to submit more scary yandere asks. I already gave you the analog horror idea. Now, imagine Toy Story with a twist. When it comes to dolls, kids like to roleplay and such. As a little girl, MC has gone through all the tropes—especially the Prince Charming and Fairy Tales. Imagine if she ends up inviting or being invited by a playmate and said playmate ends up taking the roles of that some dolls consider to be theirs alone??? Also, MC starts missing special days that she dubs "costume day" where she makes new outfits for the dolls or "tea party day" where she just sings/dances with the dolls while having a tea party. At first, they tolerate it since she's happy and they still get to participate in playtime...but when that playmate starts getting cocky and makes fun of MC??? The chaos, the scheming...that kid will never have a peaceful life, or have a life at all by the time he gets back home.

Three days later, that playmate is moving away with their family but then got involved in a car accident. Police says faulty brakes are to blame. How tragic.

☆Starlight Anon

Continuation: Better yet in that childhood playmate asks is if the kid remained sincerely but the dolls got annoyed anyway because...well, they're all possessive yanderes for MC lol Warnings: Blood, violence, horror, child's death (all in a nightmare.. technically) dead dove do not eat, read at your own risk. Genshin haunted dolls au [Fem!child!reader]

Well, it looked innocent enough? Your new friend was an attention seeker even at a young age she was proud and maybe a bit arrogant but hey she was just a kid.

When she told you about many things she knew and did and showed you things that made your eyes sparkle you thought that she was so cool, that she was amazing! You tried to come into her life finding her so amazing and she let you with a smug smile.

The relationship was cute really, the way you would follow her wherever she went in the school. She was your best friend or that was supposed to be the case. She was a spoiled girl, she wanted everything for herself, the play dates of roleplay games you and her played all had her become the princess or the lady while you were either the prince or the maid that was supposed to save her or serve her.

She would never let you become the princess of the story, even if you want to be even if you voice it she would not give it to you. Even if your parents saw it, their mother didn't know what to do with her while your mother would say that it was all right. But you can also see the concern she had looking over you.

But you liked her... you like her as a friend so you can't help but stick to her. She was so cool really.

Even as she took everything from your small hands.

Yet it seems there was a tipping point, it was bound to happen one day or another she only continued to grow hotty and selfish. It was that time when you were playing at the playground sandbox, you and she were playing with your dolls something about princess and knights with her own doll. As the princess, she commanded the attention of all the knights to her telling them that they should fall for her looks and charms. That they must swear an oath to her as the princess to protect her.

It was slowly getting dark when both yours and her parents called you and her telling you that you need to go back home now. Getting up you tried to take your dolls back but it seems that she started to take a liking to a few of them refusing to give them back to you.

"Give them back." You asked, so close to crying. "Don't be a crybaby I am just borrowing your dolls." She huffed as she held on to your dear dolls close. You didn't understand why she was taking your dolls when you told her no but she kept on insisting that she was just borrowing them to continue the roleplay back at her home.

Before you could do anything she was running back to her mother, who asked what those dolls were and why she has them. "Oh, ______ let me borrow them."

Your mother found you sniffling in the sandbox, crying in her arms you told her what happened.

However it was too late to get them back, your mother would try to get them back but she didn't have the phone number of the girl's mother nor does she know where does that girl live.

She told you that she would try to get them the next day yet that never happened.

Her father had somehow found your home past midnight and dropped off the dolls, apologizing to you and your family for his daughter and coming so late in the night. While he would have given these dolls later at a more appropriate time his daughter has been screaming ever since midnight.

She continued to chant at the dolls to get away from her, throwing them to the farthest corner. They tried to do everything to calm the girl down but she kept of screeching that it hurts and to make the pain stop. They could not calm her down and this was the last thing they thought of. Your parents showed concern for the tired man and thanked him for giving them back your dolls. You were also happy that your dolls have been returned but even you were concerned to what happened to your friend.

But she didn't come to school the next day but you heard the teachers whisper among each other that she was at the hospital, from screaming so much to the point of coughing out blood. Nothing was working and she kept on begging someone whom the parents and doctors don't know to leave her, to let her go.

You don't need to know really. It was her fault after all.

Dressed in a beautiful princess dress and a tiara on her head her stomach was decorated with many swords pierced through her. Over and over she would be a prince to nothing but a corps on the ground.

Over and over faceless knights stabbed her stomach within a dreary castle. She was all alone, she could not see reality even with her eyes open. She could not see the white walls of the hospital but a brick wall covered in blood as another sword price through her abdomen.

So matter how many swords pierced her there was always room for one more.

The pain doesn't numb at all, and when the small girl screamed again and again to stop it never did.

Note: What a dream... if she heals she won't be wearing any more princess dresses or tiaras looking at them would probably make her sick

Living for the doll au. Do you think having a Diluc and a Kayea doll at the same time would cause problems?

tw - possessive behavior, isolation, and slight codependency.

well... they might be a little hostile, at first. just for the sake of holding up appearances, i mean.

it's sorta difficult to say, just because Kaeya models are so rare and Diluc is known to be standoffish to other androids at best, openly hostile at worst. unlike some combinations (*cough* Ayato and Yae *cough*), they probably aren't going to tear each other apart, but they might bicker, make a few snide comments about a pre-programmed backstory neither seems inclined to let you in on, compete to see who can make you cum faster or moan louder whenever you find yourself pinned between them. Kaeya, especially, likes to make a show of being affectionate with you, of kissing you until you're panting into his mouth and all Diluc can do is glare, but Diluc has a petty side too - prone to bending you over as soon as you send Kaeya out for something and letting his artificial-rival come back to the sight of you cumming on his cock, even if he always says it's just convenient timing. They're both awful, willing to argue about anything from what they're going to make for dinner to who actually broke the coffee-maker, but they're not out for blood, and you can there's some kind of fondness there, if only by the way they seem to pout whenever one of them's powered down when the other isn't. they're a good pair, even if they don't want to admit it.

and, of course, they do agree on some topics, even if they do it behind your back. they agree that humans are delicate, easily bruised and quickly broken, and they're both aware that they don't like that you're gone all day, that you're too tired to pay any attention to them when you come back. they both know that they can do little things to keep you nearby, even if their safeguards limit them to hiding your keys and shoving their fingers in your mouth whenever you try to say you don't have time to play with them, and they both know that it'd be very, very bad if you ever lost interest in them, if you ever moved onto another pair of androids. Diluc tries to be more self-righteous about it, to justify his paranoia with platitudes about safety and servitude, but Kaeya's always been more honest with himself, even if there is a certain about of over-explaining he has to do to get about his programming. they can both agree they want you nearby, though, that they want to keep you close.

they can both agree that they'd rather keep you to themselves, even if they're willing to cooperate to do it.

Headcanons about Venti with God reader:

Warnings: general Sagau, yandere behavior, non descriptive violence, and heavy codependency

• He is quite literally the clingiest thing in existence

• Any day where he spends more time with you than anybody or anything else is a good day for him

• He needs to be constantly touching you or he is going to die

• It doesn’t matter how, hands interlocked, arms around each other, him on your lap with his head buried in the crook of your neck—

• He experiences almost what’s equivalent to withdraw symptoms without enough physical affection

• He basically considers you to be his life blood at this point, he really doesn’t know how he made it without you for so long

• He gets really fidgety, can’t focus on anything, nothing occupying his head except you, and at the worst stage he will visit every place you have even stepped foot in once in order to find you

• And when he does, oh boy

• You’re not going to be getting anything done for the next few hours because you’re going to have to deal with a clingy Archon basically glued to your side

• “You were soooo hard to find my love, it was horrible,” he whines as he pulls you closer, “Please please please tell me where you’re going next time, I can’t stand to be without you.”

• Of course it annoys the absolute hell out of everyone

• Both from jealousy and the fact that you’re not able to focus on more important matters, but it’s mostly jealousy

• He will do pretty much anything and everything you could ever possibly ask for

• I mean, you are his God, you must have a good reason for asking

• And that’s basically the principle he lives on

• “Of course your grace! Anything! Anything and everything you want.” he loving says as he holds your arm tighter, “Please tell me, please?”

• He kind of wants to prove himself as being worthy of your attention, so if he ever overhears you asking somebody else for something, he’s not going to shy away from getting it done first

• “Ehe, so I overheard you need to this, but Zhongli really didn’t sound like he had it covered…” Venti trailed off, holding a few very shiny pieces of archaic stone, “Do you need more? I’d love if you gave me the opportunity to get it for you!”

• “Venti I asked for that like 15 minutes ago, how—”

• He also constantly, and I mean constantly dedicates songs and poems to you

• He is still a Bard, he’s got a reputation to maintain

• Along with that, you can request any song you would like

• That includes both every song that has ever existed in his world, and whatever you have taught him from yours

• And “taught” is a bit of a stretch too

• More like offhandedly mentioned liking, and then after he hounded you for any information on it, proceeded to study and practice until he felt like he got it perfect enough to present to you

• Dedicating his talents to you is one of his favorite forms of worship

• So it doesn’t really matter if he’s played over a hundred songs and his fingers are starting to ache from the strings, if you seem happy he’s not going to stop until you ask him to or he physically can’t play anymore

• He loves taking you outside of where you’re staying too

• He prefers to be outside in nature by default anyway, hating the feeling of being trapped in a building for too long, so one of his favorite things to do is to drag you out somewhere beautiful where there isn’t anyone else

• Dandelion fields as big as lakes, actual lakes with moss and low hanging trees that just barely touched the water, up high where you can feel the wind blowing through your hair

• He knows that you have important business to attend to and that you can’t be off with him all the time, but he still tries to steal you away as often as possible

• “Hello there my muse, you know you haven’t been outside in quite some time,” he’s sporting a mischievous smile, obviously wanting nothing more than to just scoop you up and run out the closest door (or window really, he can control wind, it’ll work out)

• He wants your favor more than anything else in the world, and as such, has a tendency to get relatively jealous when that favor is shown to somebody less worthy (anybody but him)

• None of that negative emotion is directed at you of course, he could never direct any negative emotions towards you

• There are certain times where he does cross a line though

• Brushes something that he did off with a joke and a light hearted demeanor

• Maybe unintentionally undermines something but you have specifically directed him not to do

• “Well, you did say I couldn’t do anything that would hurt anyone, but not helping someone that happened to stumble off of a particularly high hill because of the wind doesn’t exactly fall on me.”

• “Venti, you control the wind—”

• When things like that do happen, the worst punishment you could possibly give him would be to ignore him

• It absolutely breaks him, not getting any acknowledgement from you

• And he won’t hesitate to beg for it

• Won’t hesitate to drop to his knees and beg for you to do, say, anything at all

• You yelling at him would be leagues better than this

• He would also gladly accept you hurting him as a punishment because it comes from you

• He’ll probably try to make up for this lack of talking by just being close to you

• You can try to shake him off, but there’s very little that can deter a desperate touched starved god

• But you have to be careful when deploying the silent treatment method cause he will get hysterical if you keep it up long enough

• Honestly, he’ll probably crack within less than a day

• At that point he’ll just be crying for you to do anything, it will take quite a bit of comfort and attention for him to calm down from that

• He does act childish sometimes, but it’s really only around you

• He’s still a God, he can still be just as cruel and uncaring as all the others when faced with someone who disrespects you

• Like all of the others, he believes that your honor is of the utmost importance

• Words float farther than most people realize, and he can hear anything on the wind

• So if somebody who was disrespecting you suddenly finds that they have an arrow in their arm, that’s none of his business

• It would probably be a lethal shot too, if not for the hell he knows he would face if you ever found out

• And of course you’re going to find out, you’re the creator

• I could probably go on forever about every single little thing because my love for him knows no bounds, but this has gotten way longer than I ever anticipated already

• If you want anything on this list expanded upon or any other aspect not added, please please please send in a requests

• And, in conclusion, you are now the owner of a very short and feral Archon who needs physical affection more than air

• So have fun with that

sending nudes in their office hours!

ft. albedo, xiao, heizou, kazuha

warning: masturbation, swearing, humiliation, use of toys, degradation, rough sex, spanking, choking, hair-tugging, praising. smut heavily implied.

heizou

shocked, very shocked. when he received a message notification from you, he expected it to be you sending a picture of watching crime documentaries like you usually do. but not this.

a very nude photo of you, handcuffed in the headboard of the bed, wearing his polo with a vibrator inside your pussy. the picture made him red, made him hard too, with a text “do me like how you do the criminals, mr. detective~”

immediately finished what he is assigned to do and gave every single documents to the police and took his leave.

he’s gonna teach you a lesson for disturbing him while he’s busy solving cases in his office, so be prepared for one hell of a ride.

scenario

“ah! heizou, please.. slow down!” you cried out, struggling as your wrists are handcuffed while being mercilessly fucked by the Shikanoin Heizou, “oh? why would I?” he teasingly said, cooing at your ears when he suddenly grabbed your hair and tugged it back. “I don’t give mercy to criminals, darling, I figure you’d know that before sending such vulgar messages.” he sternly said, gripping your handcuffed wrists and increasing his pace even more.

tears starts streaming down your face as another orgasm pulled through, screaming his name. “aww, look at how slutty you look right now.” Heizou chuckled, smacking your ass resulting for another orgasm to pull through. “he-heizou.. please.. stop..” you begged, only to earn a laugh from the detective.

“I don’t listen to criminals beg, sweetheart.” and with that, he thrusted his whole length in, cumming deep inside your womb. your juices mixed with his dripping from your legs. you let out a long, exasperated moan when you felt him pull out.

“you look so fucking hot like this.. I won’t give you a break.” you felt the bed shuffling. he grabbed you by the leg and flipped you around, smiling at how your pussy is gushing out his semen. he took his phone from the lamp and stood up, pointing his phone camera at you

“I take pictures of criminals after I give them the taste of their own medicine, so smile wide for me, slut.” and so you did. and after that, he lunged towards you and fucked you again, his pounding making you orgasm everytime, you begging him to stop, but he couldn’t careless.

after all, you asked for this when you sent those pornographic pictures to him when he was at work, right? the least you could do is be thankful because he took his time to make you cry on his cock and dump loads of his semen in your womb, even if he has a line of criminal cases to solve.

albedo

confused, to say the very least. you have always been that gentle, shy wife who is still shy to strip in front of his husband. but now.. you are sending him nudes, while he’s working on a new project?

he stares at the photo, where you use two of your fingers to spread your dripping pussy wide, using your other hand to cover your blushing face. your nipples lewdly perked up in the thin fabric. this made him breath deeply, his face heating up.

the text you sent after didn’t help with the erection hiding underneath his pants though, “why don’t you experiment on my body, bedo?”

oh he totally will. he immediately called Timaeus and Sucrose to take place for him and left in a flash, leaving the two confused because he never skips work.

scenario

“hmm.. I see.” he mutters under his breath as he watches you get ruined by two vibrating dildos inside of you, a smirk pulling up when you cry his name. “albedo! when are you going to fuck me using your dick!” you moaned out. he tsked and sets the vibrator to the highest setting, making you go crazy.

“I will, after I’m done experimenting on how much you can orgasm in an hour using technology.” Albedo said, tucking your hair behind your ears as he listens to your moaning voice like some sort of opera. “don’t worry, love. you told me to experiment on your body, I am just doing what you asked~” he cooed in your ears, another orgasm coming through which caught Albedo’s attention.

“alright, just 3 more minutes, love. and I’ll give you my cock, alright?” he reassured you, patting your head as he went in front of you again. your gaze averted to his bulge, making you even more impatient on waiting to take his dick. “and 10 seconds..” and you came, again. he smiled warmly at you as he turns the vibrators off and took it from your soaking pussy.

“alright.. as promised.” Albedo finally let his dick spring loose, tip licking pre-cum as he positioned his dick at your entrance. “1 hour of using my dick.. lets see how much you’d orgasm from it.” he started his timer and plunged his dick inside your cunt, making you orgasm, again. “that was quick.” Albedo chuckled deeply as he began thrusting inside your pussy in a missionary way.

“1..” he pulled his dick out, leaving the tip inside. the sudden thrust made you cum again, “2” each 4 pounding he gives your pussy, you cum. “3” and the counting goes on. his dick was still better than the vibrators, it always had. “haah, 7..” his thrusts started becoming sloppy, was he near, too?

“ah, you don’t mind if I breed you, right dear?” before you could nod, his thrust made your eyes roll back as he began reaching your womb, his dick reaching every pleasurable parts that’s making you orgasm continuously with no stop. “i’m close..” one deep thrust and you felt his semen rushing down your womb, legs shivering as he held them up.

“I lost count of your orgasms, y/n. lets try again, I need an accurate calculation if I want to make a comparison between technology and raw.” oho you are hella fucked.

xiao

he is mad, hella mad. Xiao was showing a client some of their best ideas using his phone since he has forgotten his laptop, and your message notif popped up.

Xiao accidentally clicked it and wow, a picture of you riding your pillow naked was shown at the eyes of the client, even had a text that said, “baby, I miss you.. come breed me please~”

the client ended up excusing herself and told him that they can meet up in another time, Xiao was frustrated because he could’ve really used the money when the client has accepted the commission, now.

so he immediately rushed home, his driving speed passing the speed limit. he is set on releasing his frustrations on you, so be prepared.

scenario

“you fucking slut, you couldn’t have waited for me to come home, hmm?? you really sent me nudes when you know goddamn well that I was meeting with a client.” he tugged the leash of your collar, your hands gripping the bedsheet as he pounds into your sopping wet cunt, you can’t answer him because he placed a gag in your mouth.

“did you really want attention that badly?” smack! his palm rebounded from your ass, earning a yelp from you. “you do, don’t you?” he pulled your hair and made your back arch as he fucks deeper into you, “look at your pussy tightening up..! ah, taking me in so fucking well.” his thrusts slows down yet went deeper, making you choke as another wave of orgasm hits you.

“stand the fuck up. I’ll give you the attention you fucking want.” you obeyed, legs shaking while trying to stand up. he lets go of your hair and pulled your wrists to your back, his dick still inside of you as he leads you outside of the balcony. “make sure to scream my name, or I’ll make you.” he takes the gag out of your mouth, string of saliva connecting as he did so.

“xiao.. i’m sorr—“ you let out a scream when he thrusted inside of you again, making xiao chuckle deeply as he watches your wrecked figure trying to hold onto the railing. “yeah, scream more! make them hear how much you like getting fucked in public.” he growled. you felt something churning in your stomach, and you know you are nearing your orgasm again. “xiao.. xiao!” you shout as you came again, Xiao’s thrust becoming sloppy as he is nearing his high as well.

“mm yeah, y’want me to breed this pussy right?” and one last thrust got you screaming his name continuously, legs quivering as you felt his cum trickle down your thighs. Xiao lets out a sigh and turned you around. carrying you as he lifts your other leg and placed it on his shoulders.

“we aren’t done yet, i’m gonna fuck my semen into you and make you cry my name, all night long.” another thrust and it got you flying in heaven, your head falling back, drool coming out of the corner of your mouth. he actually did what he said, the whole night you were crying, moaning, screaming his name. you actually think you’d be pregnant on this one.

kazuha

he is currently using his phone to present the powerpoint lecture for his english class, when continuous notifications from you popped up.

he quickly turned it off as the messages you sent were quite.. vulgar. “kazuu~ when is your break? wanna get fucked in the office right now~” all of his students saw that message, leaving him completely embarrassed and he ended up ending the class early.

he gathers all of his belongings and immediately headed towards his office. you were there, pussy full in display for him to devour.

good luck.

scenario

“just what were you thinking, darling?” another smack was heard across the room as Kazuha slaps your ass. “I.. i didn’t know you were using your phone-!” another spank was delivered, gasp leaving your lips as your fluid drips down to the floor, “i didn’t order you to talk.” he sternly said, giving your ass another slap.

“you asked me, I was only answering..” you slurred, your head way too blurry to even think about anything. Kazuha sighed, unzipping his pants and pulling down his boxers as he positioned his dick in your entrance. “don’t make a noise, unless you want me to get fired.” you almost screamed out when he thrusted inside of you with no warning, luckily, you were quick to cover your mouth.

“good slut, now take this without making any noise, mkay? if you do, I’ll make sure to open the windows for the students to see how pathetic you look right now.” And there he started to move. his movements were slow, making you agitated, so you tried moving your hips to fasten it up. but he held you still.

“don’t move, this is your punishment.” He commanded. you decided to just stay still as he enters in and out of you slowly. you started to yawn when he suddenly thrusts inside in a deep, rough pace, turning your moan into a scream. “why, I told you to stay quiet didn’t I?” he grabbed your arm, stopping his thrusts as he led you in front of his office window.

“ah, look at you tightening up in my cock. is that why you sent me those messages earlier? for the students to see how much of a whore my wife is?” He opened the curtains and pushed you against the window. your boobs pressed against the glass as you watch the students see you getting fucked. “look at them watching you, you like this? hm?” he delivered one powerful thrust which got you moaning like crazy,

“hah, those students taking a video of you..” he pulled your hair back, his dick hitting an even deeper spot as you continued to hold onto the wall for dear life, “I won’t even wonder if you got yourself a sex tape roaming around the school.” you came once again, his thrusts not stopping as he lets go of your hair and only focused on his dick coming in and our of your pussy.

“your pussy looks so lewd right now, look at your dripping cum. you came this much from just being seen by the students, huh? should I let them in the office and fuck you as well?” He chuckled deeply, you whined under his touches as he continued fucking his semen inside of your pussy.

“next time, I will not hesitate to fuck you at the school’s gymnasium. do this again, I always keep my word.”

DO NOT REPOST

Okay I’m back because I just had a thought. (Crazy ik 💀) but Scara would absolutely welcome his darling riding his face. If he dies being suffocated by you then so be it. Between your thighs with your cunt on his mouth. TO DIE BY THIGH IS THE WAY OF A WARRIOR!!! Let’s say you’re a heavy girl… man he don’t care. You accidentally break his neck? He’d cherish the cast and he’d welcome it happening again

-🔪 anon

YES “you wanna sit on my face so bad (manipulative)”

he’s begging you to put your entire weight onto his face as he slobbers all over your pussy— and although his whiny voice is muffled by your wet folds, that doesn’t stop him from whimpering out your name and begging for more. More of you, more of your taste, the feeling of you body on top of him, just more of everything. He’s so un attached from the world that he’s unaware at just how hard his hands are gripping into the flesh of your legs, or how pathetic his moans sound. He can’t help it when your juices taste so delicious, or how your thighs feel right at home at each side of his head.

Yandere Creep!Scaramouche’s cock aches so painfully in his pants but he just can’t find the motivation to reach down to rub himself off, because having your thighs in the tight grip of his hands to keep you from crawling away, requires him needing to use every last drop of energy he has. Squirming around on top of him doesn’t help at all— because if anything, it’s adding onto your own overstimulation with the way his tongue flops out to play around with your swollen clit. “Mmpfh—! Love it so mwuch… please, w-wan’ more!” He sobs into your folds, tears of desperation pooling at the corner of his eyes that he had originally screwed shut, his toes curling while he tries to thrust his hips upwards to ease the tension in his underwear.

He doesn’t not care one god damn bit if you’re on the heavier side, because he’s begging you to sit on his face either way. If anything, he takes it as an opportunity to try to impress you and show off his strength. You’re self conscious about your weight and decline his offer to sit on his face? He says that he’ll drop down to his knees and beg if he has to, if it meant you would agree and indulge into his fantasies.

You taste so fucking divine, and if nearly suffocating from under you meant he could feel your body so close— your cunt rubbing right against his mouth and your gorgeous thighs wrapping around his head, he thinks that death wouldn’t be bad at all…

L m a o gets you to sign his neck brace while saying he’d do it again in a heart beat. He so funny :( love him

Probably also cums untouched when your squirt all over his face, LOL swallows it all like liquid gold

Title: Clingy.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Wanderer x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 5.0k.

TW: AFAB!Reader, Modern AU, Non/Con, Blood, Intimidation/Threats of Violence, Toxic Relationships, Emotional Abuse, Slight Financial Abuse, and Codependent Behavior.

On your third date, your boyfriend-at-the-time demanded that you give him a spare key to your ‘shitty shoebox of an apartment’, despite refusing to so much as let you into the penthouse Ei had leased for him while going to a university a hundred or so miles away from the multi-story, marble sculpted, beachside mansion he’d reluctantly flown you out to when he got sick of listening to you ask why he still hadn't introduced you to his moms eight months into your relationship. That probably should’ve been your first red flag, but somehow, you’d persisted. He brought out your competitive side, like that.

He made you want to dig your nails in, plant your teeth in your neck, and refuse to let go. It wasn’t good for you, but nothing he did was good for anyone. That never stopped him from doing it, though.

You could only assume that this – Kunikuzushi, your boyfriend of eighteen months and your ex-boyfriend of one, splayed across the couch in your living room, the keys he’d never given back dangling from his ring finger and the phone you’d forgotten when you left for work that morning in the other – wasn’t going to be good for you, either.

You didn’t say anything at first. It was all you could do to groan, to shake your head, to pretend you didn’t see him or didn’t care long enough to throw your messenger bag onto the nearest chair and tear off your jacket. He’d clearly made himself at home. A textbook was open on your coffee table, a drink from the cheap, trendy café he’d always whined about having to take you to sitting half-empty next to it. He wasn’t looking at either, though, his attention entirely centered on your phone. You didn’t have the energy to pretend to be surprised. He used to like to go through your conversations and delete the contacts he ‘didn’t trust’ when you were together, too, but you’d been more willing to write it off as the cute-but-concerning tick of a jealous boyfriend, back then. You must’ve fallen out of practice after your breakup.

You opened your mouth, but he was ultimately the one to break the silence. “You know Ajax?”

You crossed your arms. “Why are you here?”

“I mean, I know you’re in the same microbiology course, but c’mon, him? The fucker couldn’t tell a proton from a nucleolus. Honestly, I’m surprised he hadn’t flunked out yet. Give it another semester - he’ll be gone by spring, I promise.”

“I didn’t say you could come over.”

“I texted you last night. Did you try to block me again?” You’d blocked him, then reported his number, then changed yours when he’d started using burner phones to drunk dial you in the small hours of the morning and leave disjointed, rambling voice mails about how well he was doing without you, how much time he had now that you weren’t pestering him, how many people he’d slept with since the last time you'd seen each other. All of it was bullshit, obviously, but it was his bullshit. Somehow, he always knew just how to get under your skin. “Scratch that – I’ll take care of it. I should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to get through a month without my help.”

You grit your teeth. Swallowing as much of your anger as you could, you stepped in front of him, snatching your phone out of his hands and retreating before he had a chance to take it back. You were tempted to look at what he’d been scrolling through, see which conversation had gotten him so upset, but you forced yourself to turn off your phone completely, to set it down on the far side of your coffee table and think about something else. It’d take hours to fix the damage he’d done, to unblock all the acquaintances he didn’t approve of and the apologize to all the friends he'd insulted under your name. You’d rather get rid of him first, then try to fix everything he'd already started to tear apart. “Get out.”

He scanned over you, his eyes lingering on the wrinkles in your button-up shirt, the cheap material of your dress pants. “Y'know, if we were still together, you wouldn’t have to put up with that shitty job. You could just quit and finally move in with me.”

Once, you’d let him buy you a new laptop when yours gave out in the middle of the semester and you didn’t think you’d be able to scrape enough up for another before you next exam. It’d been a used model, already a few years out of date, and you swore up and down that you’d pay him back when you had the money, but he’d held it over your head for months, smirked and gloated and taken every opportunity to remind you how grateful you should be to have a boyfriend so willing to spoil his oh-so-unfortunate partner. He hadn’t let you pay him back. He hadn’t let you pay for anything until he’d gotten tired of playing savior and went back to acting like a brat, too desperate for your attention to care if he was in-charge. You doubt he’d be any more bearable if you actually moved in with him, if you lived in his house and relied on his good-will. If you actually depended on him.

But, rather trying to say any of that in a way he’d understand, you sighed, clenching your eyes shut. “It’s an internship and I need it for my major. Get out.”

His scowl wavered. “When did you get so bossy? This isn’t going to work if you think you can tell me what to do.”

“I’m not bossy, you’re just a prick. Get out.”

He sat up, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Cut it out. I’m not going to want to get back together if you keep acting so immature.

“I don’t want to get back together with you.” And then, gesturing towards your door. “Get. Out.”

If nothing else, that seemed to shut him up.

It took a few seconds, but eventually, he responded. There was an airy laugh, a thin smile, a certain air of hurt disbelief as he sat up. “You really aren't kidding, are you?”

You didn’t indulge him with a reaction. Rather, you watched with a pressed scowl as he pushed himself to his feet and stepped toward you. He was in his usually ‘too cool to try, but too bored not to’ get-up – ripped jeans and long sleeves striped in black and violet, half a dozen rings and bolts pierced into the curve of each ear and a belt from a brand you couldn’t name, but knew you were supposed to tacked on to further feed into his ego. He must’ve been here all day. His short hair was more disheveled than he usually liked it to be, and you could see more irritation in his dark eyes than you were used to, paired with a certain type of frustration that only ever slipped out when you managed to keep him waiting. You hadn’t, technically (you couldn’t be late to meet someone who you didn’t want to see), but you didn’t bother trying to point that out.

“I thought it’d be nice to see you after… How long? Five weeks?” He glanced down, starting to toy with something in his back pocket. “I thought we could order lunch, talk for a while, maybe watch a movie or something. Then, I don’t know…” His smile took on an apologetic lull, almost pleading. “Kiss and make up? It’s not like any of this is new for us.”

He wasn’t wrong. You’d been together for a year and a half, and most of that had been spent caught up in ear-splitting, tear-inducing, world-ending fights. He’d burn the notes you borrowed from your classmate, and you'd refuse to talk to him for a week. You’d decide you were over his constant mood swings and go on a date with the cute guy from your calculus class, and he’d mail a slab of raw meat to your best friend because, in his own words, ‘you couldn’t come up with such a stupid idea by yourself’. It wasn’t balanced, you would never be able to give as much as he took, but still. When he started yelling, you did too, and when he showed up at your door a few days later, his eyes still bloodshot from crying, you always took him back. Because he was Kunikuzushi. Because you loved him.

Because you knew he’d make your life hell, if you didn’t.

Which was exactly why you couldn’t just… kiss and make up, this time. Not if it’d mean swallowing your pride and letting him get everything he wanted.

You sighed, but kept your arms crossed, your expression stern. “I’m tired, Kuni. I don’t want to do this anymore.” You paused, bit down on the side of your tongue. “It’s not good for either of us. We’re not good together. I don’t want to pretend that we are.”

His smile wavered, but didn’t fall. “What do you mean, babe?”

“I mean,” You braced yourself, shut your eyes. “I think you should leave.”

At least he seemed to hear that. You watched with as little sympathy as you could manage as his grin cracked and fell away, as his shoulders slumped downward, as he let out an airy chuckle that cracked halfway through. “You’re breaking up with me?”

“We broke up a month ago.” And he’s been insufferable ever since. “And we’re not getting back together.”

Parted lips, glassy eyes. He raked a hand through his bangs, doing what he could to blink away the tears slowly forming in the corners of his eyes. This wasn’t new, and yet, you still found yourself struggling not to break, not to embrace him and mutter soothing nothings while he sobbed quietly into your shirt and wrapped his arms around your waist and, inevitably, ended up on his knees, his face buried between your legs as he made you cum until you forgot why you’d been mad at him in the first place. “Fine. That’s fine. Honestly, that’s great. I don’t know why I’d ever want to be with such a heartless bit—” His voice broke before he could finish. He made a half-hearted effort to wipe at his eyes, but that only drew more attention to the tears starting to roll down his flushed cheeks, only made you more tempted to pull him into a kiss and act like this had never happened. “Fine. If you’re really that sick of me, I’ll go.”

He pushed past you, starting towards your door. That was what you wanted. Kunikuzushi gone, your apartment empty, your life just a little less fucked than it always seemed to be when he was a part of it. You should’ve let him go. You should’ve stood there until he was gone. You should’ve let him leave.

But you heard another hitched sob, a string of muttered swearing, and something in your chest broke open. With a shallow sigh, you dropped your arms to your sides, forcing yourself to speak through clenched teeth. “…do you want a hug before you leave?”

Kunikuzushi glanced over his shoulder. “A hug? What do you think I am, a toddler?”

“It's the only thing I'm putting on the table. Do you want it or—”

You never got the chance to finish. His arms were already around you, pinning your arms to your torso as he buried his face in your shirt. You choked back your protests, forced yourself to fight the instinct to push him away, and in a few excoriating seconds, his hold on you loosened, his back straightening, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder and his lips pressing into your neck. There was a lingering8 kiss laid onto your jugular, then another to the corner of your jaw, but you didn’t bother to try and push him away. Instead, you only shifted in his arms, nudging at his chest. You’d gotten yourself into this, called him back when he was a few steps away from leaving. You only had yourself to blame. “I didn’t say you could—”

“I knew you’d change your mind.” A hand fell to the small of your back, the heel of his palm pressing into the base of your spine. “You always do. You always make the right choice, in the end.”

You opened your mouth, ready to remind him that you weren’t taking him back, but you hesitated. He was always weird, just a little too hostile, just a little too desperate to keep you close to him, but you didn’t trust the levity in his voice, the way his smile pressed into your skin despite how close he’d come to crying a few minutes ago. “I think…” You trailed off, bit down on the side of your tongue. “I haven't changed my mind. You have to—”

Something flat and stiff pressed into your back – the blunt edge of a switchblade. His switchblade, you realized, dredging up hazy memories of bandages wrapped around thighs and hollow promises that he’d be more careful, next time. You heard his nails drum against smooth metal, felt something cold and sharp cut into the skin above your shoulder blade, and you froze, your mind instantly going blank.

He laughed, the noise cracking and airy. Warm breath fanned over the crook of your neck, and he melted into you, nuzzling into the curve of your throat. “I love you.” And then, pressing the blade into your flesh. “Say you love me too.”

Automatic, robotic. The only thing you could spit out through grit teeth. “I love you.”

Another laugh – more giddy, this time, more eager. If he noticed your reluctance, it clearly didn’t bother him. The switchblade was pulled up to the nape of your neck, then drawn in a loose arch to your collarbone, the tip never leaving your skin. “I mean, yeah, obviously. That’s why we get to stay together, even when we’re at each other’s throats.”

He paused, burrowed into you. In turn, you were dragged further into his chest, but pushed away just as quickly, allowed to get just far enough to make it possible for Kunikuzushi to raise his free hand to the collar of your shirt and drag you into a clumsy, rushed kiss – too rough and too forceful for anyone but him to enjoy. His teeth scraped against your lips, his tongue dragging over yours, but he pulled away with a breathy groan, his pale cheeks flushed and his eyes still glossed over. “…you didn’t get with anyone while I was gone, right? You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

How could you? He hadn’t given you room to breathe, let alone get past anything more than a first date with someone new. Even when you’d been together (actually together, not fighting or on a break), he’d been so suffocating, so possessive, you’d never been able to get any further than heavy petting, oral, his body on top of yours and your legs wrapped around his waist before he said something you couldn’t brush off and the night devolved into something... less romantic. It was hard to be with someone like Kunikuzushi, someone who acted like they’d rather give up the air in their lungs than a second of your time. Even after a year and a half, it was hard to let your guard down around him when he seemed so willing to give you every reason you ever could've needed to keep it up.

You guessed you should’ve expected this, looking back on it. He’d was bound to get tired of waiting for you to trust him eventually.

This was just his way of letting you know that he’d never really needed you to, in the first place.

Stiltedly, you shook your head, and he let out a relieved sigh. “Perfect. That’s why we’re supposed to be together.” He kissed the corner of your lips, then your forehead. “You’d never hurt me.”

He didn’t give you time to respond. Instead, he took you by the hand – his fingers intertwining with yours as he turned and tugged you forward, moving to lead you further into your apartment. The switchblade left your skin, falling momentarily to his side, and for a few brief seconds, you considered trying to get away, jerking yourself out of your hold and running as far away as you could get from him and his fucking issues. You made a passing effort, but Kunikuzushi’s grip turned crushing as soon as you began to shift, and you gave up before he could break something more vital than your heart. He was between you and the door, you and your phone. He had a knife, a weapon. He had you, and until he decided he was done, he wasn’t going to let you go without a fight.

With little ceremony, you were drawn out of your living room and into your cramped bedroom. Kunikuzushi let go of your hand, but you didn’t have time to run before you were being pushed onto your unmade bed, before he was straddling your waist and pinning you to the center of the mattress. The knife was brought back to your neck, but quickly plunged lower, slid beneath your uppermost button and used to separate thread from fabric. Somehow, annoyance managed to overshadow your panic, if only for as long as it took for one rational thought to be followed by another. This was your nicest shirt, one of a handful you’d splurged on for your internship, but it wasn’t like Kunikuzushi would ever understand anything like that. It wasn’t like he’d ever tried to, before.

The tip caught on the slight dip below your diaphragm and you winced, a few dots of red immediately seeping into white fabric. You winced, beginning to protest on reflex. “Kuni’, that—”

“I’ll take care of it.” Absentminded, only half conscious that he was speaking at all. He reached the hem, pulling his switchblade free and letting your dress shirt fall away from your chest and over your shoulders, as useless as it was embarrassing. “I’ll take care of everything when we’re done. Just sit pretty and keep your mouth shut for a while.”

Really, you could only wonder why you hadn’t dumped him sooner.

Your pants were next, slits carved into the material over your hips and ruined fabric torn away. He moved to cut off your boxers, too, but seemed to hesitate, to linger, to find the strength to pause just long enough to drag two fingers over your clothed slit and press the pad of his thumb into your clit. You hissed at the friction, but Kunikuzushi only smiled, dipping his head low enough for his lips to ghost over your collarbone, then the midline of your chest, then the tender spot just below your navel. The last was accompanied by a slight groan, throaty and deep. You did what you could to block it out. This would be better if you didn’t think about it, if you just imagined he was trying to win you back after a fight, that there was a wilting rose in his other hand and not a knife already stained with your blood.

It was almost a mercy when his hands finally slipped under the hem of your boxers, doing away with your last layer of protection with only a slight laugh and a lilting smile. You did what you could to relax, to lean back and close your eyes, but Kunikuzushi’s weight was an ever-present anchor to reality, only made worse as he shifted lower, as he pulled your legs apart and threw them over his shoulders. He pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into the inside of your thighs, his teeth ghosting over tender flesh as he sucked harsh bruises into whatever he could reach. This was his favorite part, by far. He’d always been clingy – possessive to the point of total, nail-biting, jaw-locking paranoia. At first, you’d been able to write it off as a sort of overeager enthusiasm that came with a new relationship, but he’d never stopped. He was always ready, always desperate to dig his teeth into your skin and leave as many marks as you’d let him – or rather, as many as he possibly could before you were able to pry him away. Even then, you’d tried to think of it as cute, just one of the quirks of your immature-but-loving boyfriend. Now, all you could do was hope it’d be over soon.

It took him full minutes to actually reach your cunt, for his tongue to lave over your slit. Instantly, you stiffened, clenching your eyes shut and attempting to ignore the heady sounds of his whimpering moans, the feeling of his tongue tracing patterns in your entrance. It was sloppy, messy, all drool and teeth and clutching hands, but warmth flooded into your core as the bridge of his nose ground into your clit, as his hands wrapped around your hips and dragged you that much closer to his mouth. Everything he did was dirty, but he knew you, knew your body, knew that you’d have to spread your legs as soon as his tongue thrust into you.

You arched your back as two fingers slid into your entrance alongside his tongue, scissoring you open while his attention shifted to your clit – his lips sealing around the sensitive bundle of nerves while he sucked gently. If he hadn’t been so vocal, it might’ve been more bearable, but no, he couldn’t seem to stop whining into your cunt, to stop sending waves of those awful reverberations from your clit to your core every time he whimpered or grunted or moaned. Before you could stop yourself, your hips were rolling weakly against his mouth as he nursed you through your sudden climax. When you fell limp, his mouth fell away, but his hand still cupped your pussy, his fingers still curling and thrusting inside of you.

He didn’t slow down, didn’t let up, not until you were crying out and clenching around him, not until you could feel the slick running down your thighs, soaking into your sheets. He didn’t stop until you were babbling – spitting out incoherent pleas for him to slow down before the overstimulation turned from overwhelming to agonizing. You were forced to endure another kiss to the inside of your thigh, the wet sound of his tongue running over his fingers, but he pulled away in a few seconds, finally letting you have just enough space to breathe. Even that was temporary, cut short by his lips crashing into yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue, as little as you wanted to. You could feel him panting against your lips, and it was all you could do not to scream.

He pulled away abruptly, grinning. “You’re a virgin.”

It wasn’t a question, but you found yourself shaking your head, denying it on instinct. “I never—"

“You didn’t have to.” There was a peck to the corner of your lips, another to your cheek. “I know everything about you. Your parents were too strict to let you date in high school, and none one’s ever lasted more than a couple of weeks with you before me. Since you wouldn’t so much as take off your shirt around me before our three-month anniversary, I’m going to assume you weren’t a total slut before we met.”

You narrowed your eyes, shoving gently at his chest. You just needed space. You just needed him to get away from you. “So?”

“So,” he leaned in, his smiling growing that much wider. “I’m going to ruin you.”

It was something about his tone, the dark glint in his eyes as he leered over you. Your heart dropped in your chest, and very distinctly, something very large and very sharp began to crawl up your throat.

You started to shake your head, but he was already edging jeans downward, already freeing his cock – the flushed tip leaking precum in fat, white pearls. His weight was enough to keep you pinned down as he aligned himself with your entrance, as he traced the head over the length of your slit, and his eyes never left your face, your expression painted with heavy strokes of horror and disbelief. He never wavered, never blinked, even as he thrust inside of you, bottoming out in a single uninterrupted motion. Even as you cried out, the sound more pained than anything else. Even as you felt a single, warm teardrop fall off of his cheek and onto yours. You hadn’t realized you’d shut your eyes, not until you forced yourself to open them, not until you found him cloudy-eyed and grinning above you.

He was crying, again.

Huh.

You thought he would’ve given up on that, by now.

He wasn’t gentle. He’d never been delicate with you, but right now, it felt like he was trying to be rough, to pin your legs against your chest and split you open every time he moved his hips, every time he found a way to hit something deeper and more sensitive inside of you. You tried to scream, but your voice caught in your throat, strangling itself into something more akin to a cracked whine and a few broken whimpers. The stretch, the pressure was more than you could take. You couldn’t stop yourself – going rigid underneath him, your eyes rolling back as your mouth fell open in a silent, agonized cry. Your reactions, however involuntary, only seemed to spur Kunikuzushi on, his pace growing more erratic and his breath now coming in quick, shallow pants. No matter what you did, it just made him worse.

You could hear him talking, distantly – little mumbled tangents forming between thrusts. “You’re just so—” He cut himself off with a long, wordless moan. “We’ll do this every day, until— until you know you don’t need anyone but me. Then, you’ll love me, and you’ll never have to—” He thrust deeper into you, letting out a fracturing laugh. “And then, I’ll rip out your tongue and cut off your legs if you try to leave. We’ll always be together. No one will ever, ever take you away from me again.”

You weren’t with him. You didn’t want to be with him. If it wasn’t for his immaturity, his manipulativeness, his fucking knife, this wouldn’t be—

His knife.

Both of his hands were on your thighs, his nails digging into your flesh, keeping your knees pressed into your chest. He wasn’t holding it. He couldn’t be.

Without daring to look away from him, you groped around the mattress blindly, your fingertips eventually brushing against something cold and metallic – his switchblade lying abandoned on the edge of the bed. You took it up before you could hesitate, gripping the handle tightly enough for the sharp corners to bite into your palm, for your hand to cramp and go numb by the time you found the strength to actually lift it up. You didn’t aim. You didn’t have time to, not unless you wanted to think about what you were doing, not unless you wanted to let Kunikuzushi win. Not unless you could—

The curved tip just barely made contact with the skin above his collarbone before you faltered, before he had time to catch your wrist in an iron-clad hold. You tried to let go of the switchblade reflexively, but his hand shifted to wrap around yours, to keep the blade pressed into his chest – applying just enough pressure to break the skin. “Do it.” Soft, drawn out, too eager to mean anything good. “I’d let you carve your name into me, if you wanted to. All you'd have to do is ask.”

You didn’t ask. You didn’t want to. You didn't want any of this, but Kunikuzushi pressed the blade in his skin regardless, letting out muttered confessions of love and loyalty as a thin red line formed in his flesh, as blood dripped down his chest and disappeared behind the loose collar of his shirt, blotting against the dark fabric. He guided your blade to his lips, next, making a small nick in the corner of his mouth before taking the switchblade out of your hand and tossing it onto the floor, out of your reach. It would’ve hurt less if he’d tried to hurt you, too, taken the blade to your skin after his own. If would've hurt less if he’d acknowledged that you’d tried to do anything at all.

You didn’t have much time to linger on that thought, though. He was already moving again, already making up for time lost by fucking into you like a man crazed. With no preparation, no warning, he jerked forward, his chest pressing into yours as he kissed you, as he forced his tongue past your teeth and smeared his blood over your lips. It felt like you were drowning in nickel, being slowly suffocated by some nameless, slick, oppressive force. It felt like you were choking, despite being able to breathe, to think as clearly as you’d ever been able to around him. It felt like you were going to die.

But, you weren’t. He’d never be so kind, he’d never let you have that kind of comfort, not when he was still grinding into you, not when his cock was twitching against the walls of cunt and he was groaning into your mouth without reservation. You could feel your poor overstimulated pussy clenching around him, your vision burning white around the edges as, for lack of anything more stable to hold onto, you wrapped your arms around his neck and raked your nails over his back, clawing into whatever you could reach. If he noticed, if he cared, it only worked to drag him that much closer, to leave him as deep as he could possibly be when he finally finished, when you felt something warm and vile flood into you.

He stayed like that for a long moment, silent and unmoving, his chest pressed into yours and his lips trailing from your mouth to your throat, settling just above your jugular. It was a small mercy when he finally pulled away and straightened his back, easing himself out of you and wiping the blood off of his face, his neck. You watched from a distance as he fixed his clothes, before pushing himself to his feet, never sparing you so much as a second glance. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Pack your stuff, and make sure you’ve gotten your shit together by then. I’m not letting a mess like you into my apartment.” He paused, lingered long enough to smile. With no sense of visible urgency, he walked to the side of your bed, retrieving his switchblade and kissing your forehead softly, gingerly, with a kind of tenderness you could only wish he’d found a few hours earlier. “I love you, babe. Even when you act like a fucking idiot.”

His grin pressed into flesh, cutting and cruel.

“And I’m so, so glad you’ve realized that you love me too.”

I would sell my left kidney to have some mafia boss Venti content

content warning: yandere, possessive behaviour, unequal power dynamic. reader disrection is advised.

Okay, I've had this thought before! Because Venti's definitely the one who seems super happy-go-lucky—the type to murder someone in cold blood, but smiling as though he were playing a game, humming all the while a cheerful tune under his breath. The type to use extremely thin blades hidden away everywhere on his body in secret pockets no one knows. He's short, but he’s earned a reputation. The throwing-knife, stabby kind. And he likes to make his toys sing.

So how I imagine the backstory is that you’re an investigator that’s managed to worm your way into the family, working right under the boss himself—the same boss that’s been so unknown to your department, who’s so mysterious that no-one even knew their name, outside of the top family members.

How it begins is this: in the city of Tevyat, there are seven prominent groups in the underground. You've been sent on a mission to infiltrate the ones that call themselves Mondstadt, the so-called freedom fighters (though fighting for what freedom, you’re not sure). How you actually get in though, is far from the usual orthodox ways afforded to investigators of working their ways up to meeting the leaders. The higher-ups of the organization were exclusive and hidden, the boss of the family even moreso.

But of all the bosses in Teyvat—archons, the populace calls them, since they’re similar to magistrates in that they set down the unspoken laws of the underground—the Mondstadt archon is the most unknown one. In fact, there had been rumours he’d already been killed, or stuck in a coma, or some other tragic event. The head of the Mondstadt group is now Jean, who’s inherited it from the old guard composed of people like Varka, but she’s not the archon, which tells you that the Mondstadt archon hasn’t been killed at all. Not if the title was still used on some hidden piece no one knew. It seems that the archon’s just extremely laissez-faire in the governing of his group.

Unknown this archon may be, but somehow, through a stroke of luck, you end up saving someone with connections to him. Not that you were aware; you merely thought he was an eccentric singer. His name is Venti, and you save him from a cat, of all things, the little kitten circling the frightened man who keeps sneezing and shooing it away. My saviour, he positively sings it when he inspects you up and down after the offending kitten has been safely given back to its own (a little girl in red, who has quite an explosive imagination). There’s this gleam in his teal eyes when he calls your name, a sure sign of a mischievous trickster. That should have been the first sign. But you suspect nothing of his darker roots, taken in by his boyishly handsome looks. 

You still think he’s a normal civilian, so when Venti insists on rewarding you for your bravery (it shall be sung in ballads, he says with a smirk) by bringing you to a fancy dinner party as his guest, you accept reluctantly. Not because you want to go, but more so because this man sticks around you like sticky rice, refusing to let himself from your side even as you’re making your investigations. when you tell him you’re busy with matters. The excuse was that you’re interested in joining the Mondstadters, and that’s when his eyes twinkle. “Oh? Why would you want to associate with a bunch of thugs?”

“I think their philosophy is interesting,” you tell him half-truths, something about seeking power and admiring the Mondstadt archon and freedom in joining their group. If it could even be called freedom, how many rules and regulations the families set down in order to prevent territory wars.

“I see!” Venti claps his hands together. “Maybe you’ll find the party useful then! It has quite a number of notable attendants. Perhaps their connections will help you.”

“Notable? You mean like celebrities?”

“…you could say that!” Venti says while laughing.

Strangely enough, even though Venti’s broke—you’ve seen the poor state of his wallet, nary a penny to his name—he manages to send you this expensive suit set, complete with this little brooch at the lapel, emerald gem pinned, a pattern of the wind etched onto it. You don’t think much of it, much more aghast at the fact that Venti was able to afford this item—he could barely pay for his drinks whenever he dragged you to the bar with him, and even then, you paid for him half the time. The other half of the time consists of Venti putting the drinks on his tab and getting scolded for it by the red-haired bartender. So shocked were you, you don’t even ponder how it is that he knew where you lived. After moving to a new location because of this assignment, you’ve never told anybody your new home.

You attend the party. Grasping at straws, because the secrets of the boss were so highly protected, you sigh and make yourself decent enough to go. When you hand in the invitation, the guards at the front widening their eyes at the chicken-scratch of Venti’s writing, they let you in without a fuss, even bowing profusely at you as you step through the door. Rich people are weird, and it seems like the people they hire are even weirder, you think absentmindedly as you wander around the halls of this luxurious mansion. People give you a wide berth, occasionally glancing at the emerald gem you keep touching in some semblance of comfort at your lapel. 

It’s when you try to get to one of the break rooms to rest your feet that you finally understand what Venti meant when he said there may be “prominent figures”. Because the person you almost knock over is the acting boss of the family, Jean.

She’s there, apologizing so softly, so politely, as you try to keep yourself from showing any of your shock on your face, your heart about to leap out of your mouth, beating so violently against your ribcage you think you may be ill. That’s when Venti pops in, that disarming smile, as always, present on his face. He’s surely laughing on the inside at your thoughts right now, racing so fast you struggle to keep up.

“So that’s your person, sir,’ Jean says, as Venti wraps his arm around your neck in a friendly hold—friendly only to him though, because you were finally beginning to understand. “You should keep a better watch. In this place… you never know who could take advantage.”

His.. person? Sir? The horror of the situation finally dawns itself on you, puzzle pieces sliding into place, as Venti nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck—an intimate gesture you’d gotten used to, having known him for months now, but only now does it make your mouth dry. Not with anticipation, no, but a deep unsettling dread that lodges itself in your throat. 

“It’s okay,” Venti says to Jean, the smile never leaving his face. His eyes shift to the brooch at your lapel, and his arm lets your neck go, sliding around your waist instead, pulling you toward him. “Everyone we’ve invited should know better than to displease the archon of Mondstadt, don’t you think? Not if they don’t want to get a knife in their eyes, I’d think. I do enjoy the loudness of their screams though.”

Jean shrugs, nonplussed at his violent words. “Whatever you say, sir. I’ll be going now. The guests will need to be watched extensively, after all.”

You watch her leave, and finally you open your mouth.

“What just… No, who are you?” 

Venti grins. “You said you wanted to join us, didn’t you?” His grip around your waist gets tighter, and you’re acutely aware that despite his slight form, he’s strong. Too strong for you to do anything about his touch, how his fingers are tapping on your hip bone a rhythm to an unknown song. “As your new boss, I must say…”

He leans into your ear, warm breath caressing the shell of your ears, voice sing-song with a smug satisfaction, “It’s such a pleasure to meet you.”

You swallow. You hadn’t even agreed to joining—but isn’t this what you’ve been working toward? So you smile weakly, say, “Likewise,” and pretend that his eyes are not sparkling at how your full attention is on him. Pretend that the kiss he presses to your cheek is just a friendly gesture—and not a mark of possession, like the one he’s pinned to the lapel of your suit, like the bruises you’ll find on your neck in the future, when Venti makes you sing like he’s always wanted.

ok so maybe you're gonna get tired of the whole bodyparts academy au BUT I've been brainrotting so hard my brain is like melting out of my ears dawg... i gotta get this out of my system or it WILL consume me... you know aethers like outfit?? his abdomen area(? idk waht its called english hard lol) hasnt left my mind its just/?!?!?!?! THE WAIST????? (men and their slutty waists smh) it just looks sooo good I want to bite and like put my hands on him and just manhandle him grraravdjñ, SO LIKE just imagine academy au mc jus kind of like obsessed with his abdomen area (again sorry dont know what its called 😭) who just coincidentally has their hands on his waist like ALL the time, and im just so curious abt how aether would react, would he show off?? would he be shy??? would he be running laps and screaming??? (idk how to end this im sorry words aren't wording how they should lmaoo)

the unbelievably deep sigh i just had when I saw this ask. and yet here I am, the sucker and fool. ready to do anything for genshin men and their impeccable body measurements.

i actually wrote something like this already 😭but I wanted to cop a feel for academy aether's tummy too yknow? or maybe I just cannot control myself when it comes to the twins

you might like: teyvat! aether and his little tummy <33

oh, please. aether knows he's pretty. he is lumine's twin brother, after all! even before coming to this school he's turned heads left and right, so surely he could use his good looks to seduce the person of his dreams, right?

wrong.

whenever you snatch him by the waist, it’s protectiveness and not the perverted fondling he’d rather you’d do to him. aether is, after all, cute and petite. he looks like he can be easily overpowered by any of the students here and you just have that natural urge to protect him! you don’t know that aether can easily oneshot most of your harem members, but even if you did, what exactly would change?

when aether skips over to your side, you smile fondly at him and hug him by the waist to your side. it gets his heart pumping whenever you do that, hiding his flushed face behind his textbooks so you won’t suspect a thing. disappointment always floods his insides when you look at him like a brother and not a potential love interest. your waist is so small! you say like a naggy mother. you have to eat more!

it’s frustrating! lumine has to watch his brother scream into his pillow every night from her side of the room. she rolls over and tries to drown out his screams with a pillow.

“aether!” you one day call out to him. your bright smile once again beckons him to your side. he yelps when you slide a firm hand around his waist and pull him to your lap. his cheeks flush when hug him closer to your chest, and it takes everything out of him not to squirm. “i’ve got something to show you!” your breath tickles his ear and sends tingles down his spine. 

shuddering out a sigh, he forces a shaky grin as he tries his best to look enthusiastic. “is this about the anime you sent me last week?” you brighten up at his remembrance and chatter on and on to him. he makes his remarks too, fueling the conversation, and as it goes on your hands continue to rover about his abdomen. you’re such a mean senior, not even noticing the bright red blush on his face! was this on purpose? it has to be!

a single feather-like stroke of his abdomen sends him shuddering and keeling over. he gasps into your collarbone, hiding his blush and heart-eyed expression. “you’re so mean, senpai,” he whimpers into your skin. “teasing me like this...”

“i-i’m sorry...” the tension of the situation has now finally dawned on you, and you blush when you feel aether’s lips quivering on your skin. “i didn’t realize that...”

your words trail off as temptation seizes your hand to feel up his abdomen once more. toned as they were, the curves seemed so tiny and fragile as they fit into your hands. a lean and slender body, yet supple enough to serve as canvas for your marks...

ah, no! what kind of senior are you, teaching such lecherous thoughts of your junior! and yet... and yet...! your eyes dart to the corner, where the blonde student is currently shaking in your grasp. the cute and helpful transfer student who you viewed as a brother now looked more and more like prey in your hands. you gulp.

“i’m sorry, aether,” you whisper, sending an excited rush through his body. “but you look so pretty now...”

his tongue feels like lead as it quivers in his mouth, but when you settle him down on the couch and hover above him, he giggles like the closeted perverted maniac that he is.

“no worries, senpai ♡~” he laughs, bringing you closer by the neck. “make sure to appreciate me more okay?”

perhaps he’ll start rolling up his uniform after this, just to make the rest of your harem jealous ☆

since y'all are tolerating my sex-doll!genshin bullshit,,, allow me to go on.

from what you've heard, Kaeya was a short-lived model from the Favious Line, barely promoted and quietly discontinued a few months after his initial release when his sly mannerisms and secretive nature proved unpopular with patrons of a collection widely known for its overly sweet, openly affectionate androids. most fans don't even know he exists, but you're a bit of a fanatic, so you do what you can to dig up retracted promotional material, listings from second-hand auctions, anything with a little more information on a model such a sentimental brand seems more than happy to forget. and of course, none of it does you any good, because of course, you only come face-to-face with your favorite local legend on a late walk down a dark alley, when you trip over the twisted leg of a Kaeya model some rich, wasteful asshole just left on the curb.

he's in a bad state - missing an eye, his clothes stained, his metallic endoskeleton visible in some places and completely exposed in others - but you don't care. it takes all night to get him back to your apartment, but it's a labor of love, and you couldn't be happier to finally bring him home.

you plan on repairing him before actually powering him up for the first time, but his wiring seems to be a little fried, and you find him wandering around your living room the morning after you bring him home, fully conscious and just a little less confused than he should be. it's for the best, in the long run - all models have a basic understanding of their own construction, and he's able to guide you through most of his more intensive repairs, even if the unflinching, unblinking expression he sports while you graft on new patches of faux-skin is a little unnerving. you can't replace his eye as easily, but he doesn't seem to mind the old eye-patch you found in the back of your closet, and he's genuinely grateful for what you've done so far, kissing your forehead and mumbling compliments and looking at you in a way that leaves your knees weak and your cheeks hot. that, or he's just doing it to get under your skin. he clearly likes having you at his mercy.

speaking off - his preferences might've gotten a little warped, too. you've done your research, tested out as many different models as you could possibly get your hands on, but you're not sure you've ever met another android as focused on his own pleasure as Kaeya, as happy to watch you choke on his cock as he hums and traces patterns into the back of your neck. he gives as much as he takes, sure, milks orgasms out of you with his tongue like a man starved, but sometimes, you can swear there's a special glint in his remaining eye when he has you on his lap, bouncing on his cock, or when you give him permission to use something aside from his body, to restrain you, to do anything that leaves you with just a little less control than he has. he never takes more than he gives, but still, you've never seen an android who's designed to take at all. besides Kaeya, of course.

you really do love him. he's good company, and he's great with guests, and you're so, so, so glad you brought him home. it's just, with the way he looks at you, with the tone he takes on as he coos praise every time you scrape up yet another lost piece of him - it seems like he might think you're the toy, sometimes, something that belongs to him, something he doesn't really have to listen to when it whines about overstimulation, or digs its nails into his back, or asks him not to wrap his hands around its neck so tightly, next time. he's made you say things, staved off your climax until you promised to never leave him, split you open on his fingers as you moan and babble about how he belongs to you and you belong to him and nothing's going to change that, but you're sure it's nothing, just a part of his backstory you haven't managed to uncover, yet. you're sure he's alright, even if you've been losing your phone, recently, even if your friends are starting to complain about how often your alarm doesn't seem to go off, or you can't find your car keys, or Kaeya pulls you away right before you're supposed to meet up with them.

you're sure he's alright, even if you don't really like the way he looks at you, anymore.