#genshin kinktober | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

abyssruler · 2 years

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5 SUNDAYS OF KINKTOBER

5TH MASS ♱ scaramouche x fem!reader

homily — you look good when you cry in the middle of the hall after he deliberately humiliates you in front of everyone. but he thinks you look best when you look up at him through teary eyes as you choked on his fingers in the school’s public restroom.

communion — comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

modern au, college au, bully scara, possessive scara, noncon, manipulation, blackmail, degradation, humiliation, dacryphilia, oral m-receiving, semi-public sex, nonconsensual filming, spit kink, warning you now: scara is an asshole

5 sundays of kinktober

Scaramouche could be so pleasant when he wanted to, donning a fake smile that worked on your parents like a charm, talking and laughing with them over breakfast like he hadn’t just been pounding his cock into you last night, your cries and moans muffled by the forceful way he shoved his fingers into your mouth.

He got off of seeing your face twist with pain, tears flowing down your cheeks as you gagged around his fingers knuckles deep in your throat.

It was a wonder your parents never suspected anything of your childhood friend, not raising the slightest question whenever he invites himself to your home for a ‘sleepover,’ as he likes to call it. But a sleepover doesn’t involve him lying next to you as he grinded his hardness over your ass, arms circling around your torso possessively as his hands grabbed and tweaked at your nipples, ignoring your silent protests and the way you futilely tried to move away from his reach.

He never fails to lean in, breaths hot against the shell of your ear, and whisper in a tone that’s so falsely pleasant it makes your stomach churn with fear, “Stop moving. You don’t want those videos getting leaked, do you?”

And like a dog that’s been trained to obey its master, you do whatever he asks of you, whether it’s opening your legs for him or getting on your knees to have your throat abused by him.

Now, he smiles like the friend he pretends he is to you when you’re with your parents, complimenting your mother over the delicious breakfast she made and making conversation with your dad about the latest project at his company.

You know what your parents think of him, that he’s such a sweet boy, so smart and charming, he’d be such a good boyfriend, don’t you think?

It always makes your throat close up, fighting the nausea that threatens to overtake your senses. They don’t know just how wrong they are, how much he’s violated your body and privacy, the blackmail he owns is a constant thing that hangs over your head in shame. The person you thought you could trust most in the entire world ended up being the person to betray you first.

Kunikuzushi was so sweet when you were children, but now you barely recognize him anymore. Not since he got involved with the wrong crowd when you were in high school, not since he started going by the name Scaramouche.

“I better go now, I promised my friends I’d meet with them later,” he tells your parents, pretending to look forlorn at the prospect of leaving. Your parents ate it all up, assuring him that he’s always welcome to return, that he can visit whenever he likes. All the while you’re sitting beside him, twisting your fingers on your lap and trying not to flinch with each word that comes out of your parents’ mouth.

A hand lands on your shoulder. It takes all you have not to rip it away.

You turn your head up to see Scaramouche standing from his seat, looking down at you with something you could almost describe as soft—still all for show. The moment you’re out of your parents’ eyesight, he’ll go back to being his cruel self.

“Will you come see me off?” He asks, but the brief tightening of his grip on your shoulder says enough. It wasn’t a request.

“Y-Yeah, of course, Kuni.” The old nickname slips off your tongue, as familiar to you as your own name. He likes to pretend it bothers him, especially when you call him that in front of others, but you know how much he likes hearing it from you. He always comes undone when you moan his name, on the few times when his hand isn’t covering your mouth or his fingers aren’t choking you.

You walk him to the front door, your parents staying seated at the table. He turns to you when he reaches the door, the smile on his lips gone, replaced with a familiar scowl that continues to haunt your dreams.

His hand closes around your jaw, fingers digging almost painfully to your cheeks. He leans in, eyes narrowed on your frightful face.

“Open your mouth.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You already know what he means to do, so you part your lips, sticking out your tongue for good measure. He likes it when he doesn’t have to say something to make you do it.

He looms over you, opening his mouth and spitting a glob of saliva directly over your tongue. It takes all you have not to shudder in disgust. Even after going through such a thing for what feels like hundreds of time, his twisted perversion never fails to make tears well in your eyes at the humiliation.

“Swallow.”

Your throat nearly protests the action. You have to force yourself not to heave after it goes smoothly down your throat.

Scaramouche’s eyes are focused intently on you, pupils blown wide and his lips stretching into a mocking smile. You jolt when he suddenly reaches down and cups your clothed cunt, having easier access to it due to the skirt that he always forces you to wear.

He steps close, and you still in order to stop any involuntary reactions from you should your movement cause his hand to produce friction against the sensitive spot between your legs.

His eyes bore into you, nearly making you shrink back from his gaze. “Don’t even think about touching yourself while I’m not there. This fucking cunt is mine.”

As if to emphasize his words, his hand applies the slightest pressure, grazing against your clit and evoking a whimper from your lips.

You nod shakily. “Yes, I-I won’t touch myself, Kuni.”

He smiles, pouring all his false saccharine sweetness into that one gesture, loosening his hold on your jaw and retracting his hand from beneath your skirt to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. It would have seemed like a gentle act — if you didn’t know any better.

“Good girl.”

✧

His friends all think you’re his little pet.

Dottore leers at you from across the table, playing with the butter knife in his hand as he twists his lips to show razor-sharp teeth. You avert your gaze hastily, a combination of fear and disgust bubbling in your gut. An amused puff of laughter is all you hear before you feel a hand tug at a lock of your hair.

“Now, who let Scaramouche’s little bitch sit with us at the table?” Comes his mocking drawl, a hint of that twisted sense of amusement in his voice. You try your best to keep your gaze fixed to the table, knowing they’ll see it as defiance should you raise your head to meet their eyes. “Don’t you know dogs belong in the kennels?“ He pulls at your hair, hard enough to make you wince. “Why don’t you—”

A hand slaps away the hand holding a strand of your hair.

“Who do you think you are to touch what’s mine?”

You risk a glance at Scaramouche sitting by your side to find him glaring at Dottore, the fork in his hand gripped so tightly his knuckles have turned white.

Dottore grins unrepentantly, retracting his hands and raising them in the air as a sign of peace. “You should teach your little pet better manners.”

“And you should learn how to mind your own business,” he sneers, stabbing his fork straight into his steak.

Dottore smirks, utterly entertained by Scaramouche’s temper, but ultimately deciding that toying with you must not be worth it.

You reach up to fix your hair, still keeping your gaze on the table. Tugging on the hem of his shirt to get his attention, you murmur when he deigns to turn his head to you, “Thank you, Kuni.”

Though it seems you weren’t as quiet as you’d hoped to be.

Tartaglia, who was sitting on your other side, snorts at the nickname.

You freeze up just as Scaramouche beside you goes still. Heart beating out of your chest, palms beginning to turn clammy, and tears gathering at the corners of your eyes, you dare to look up and see what expression he has.

Your heart drops.

He’s looking down at you, face frozen in a mask of fury, eyes wide with a promise to do unspeakable things to you later.

“Pft. You let her call you Kuni?” Tartaglia fans the flames, knowing how much trouble it’d get you. You feel his hand slither near your side, and you shrink away from his touch. You’ve always thought that if Scaramouche weren’t so terrifying, all his other friends would have forced themselves upon you by now.

Your tongue twists on itself, bottom lip trembling the way it always does whenever you so much as get a hint of his anger. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Shut up,” Scaramouche says icily, whether it’s for you or Tartaglia, you didn’t know.

He doesn’t like it when you call him Kuni in front of others. For all that he gets off of hearing your once-innocent nickname for him be said in such debauched tones accompanied by the squelching sounds of your walls squeezing around him and the slap of skin against skin, he abhors it when you call him that in front of others.

He grabs your jaw harshly with one hand, forcing you to look him in the eye and ignoring the way you whimper at how hard his grip is. From your periphery, you can see that the rest of his friends have stopped their conversation to watch your impending humiliation with a sick sense of delight.

“I thought I told you to keep that mouth shut.” He pulls you close, his mouth a hairsbreadth away from yours, breath warm against your lips. But then he leans away, roughly pushing your face away as he lets go, leaving your jaw aching and eyes watery. “Get out of my sight.”

You scramble to do as you’re told, ignoring the jeers of his friends and the pitying looks from nearby tables, nearly toppling your chair from the haste with which you stand up. You don’t see the leg that stretches out beneath you.

Your knees ache, palms red from the force as you fell to the floor. You’re sure you’ll be sporting gashes and bruises on your knees tomorrow, but it isn’t the pain that opens the dam of your tears, lips wobbling in an attempt to smother the hiccup that threatens to rise from you.

It’s the sound of laughter that echoes in your ears.

You all but run out of the cafeteria and into the restroom you always hide out in, practically feeling his gaze on your back the whole way. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine what sort of look he would have had as you tripped. Eyes leering at you, mouth twisted in a cruel mockery of a smile, and perhaps a hint of pink at his cheeks—the only sign of his arousal, proof of how much he enjoys seeing you get hurt and humiliated.

The door to an empty cubicle locks shut behind you, falling to the closed seat of the toilet and placing your hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs. Even that one simple act reminded you of him, of the way he likes seeing you gag and choke around him and the way he’d push your face over the mattress to silence you, palms heavy against your lips whenever he fucked you in a public space, “You don’t want us to get caught, do you? So be quiet.”

✧

He finds you, just like he always does whenever you run away to have your little tantrums, as he calls it.

“Get out.”

You opened the door of the cubicle, ever the obedient little pet his friends like to taunt at. He’s leaning by the sink with his arms crossed, a frown fixed on his deceptively angelic face, eyes narrowing once he sees you.

Fidgeting with your fingers, you try to apologize again as sincerely as you can muster, “Kuni, I’m sorry.”

Scaramouche is at you in an instand, a hand around your neck and a dangerous look on his face, not quite squeezing but still tight enough to be threatening. Your knees lock in place, hands trembling with fear as you fought the urge to cry again with the way he’s looking at you.

“Get on your knees.”

Your eyes dart to the unlocked door, heart rate rising. Anyone could enter at any moment. He liked the thrill of defiling you on public spaces—fitting rooms, cubicles of public restrooms, the janitor’s closet—but always with an added precaution, always with the door locked.

“Someone might come in and see—”

“So what?” He rudely interrupts, squeezing his fingers around your throat just enough to be uncomfortable. Then he snickers, watching the way your eyes begin to water again. “You’re such a crybaby.”

“Kuni, please. I don’t want—”

His mouth roughly lands against yours, swallowing whatever protests you had as he roved his tongue inside your mouth, taking and taking and taking without consideration. It hurts, the way he’s pressing his lips over yours and the way his teeth bites onto your bottom lip, tongue roving over your own, making sure you taste all of him. It leaves you lightheaded and out of breath by the time he pulls away, a trail of saliva hanging between you that he doesn’t bother wiping away. Just as he likes it. Rough, messy, and filthy.

He likes seeing you covered in his own cum from head to toe, dribbling from your mouth, running down the valley of your breasts, and your pussy so stuffed full that it drips down your thighs and makes a mess beneath your feet.

You think if he could, he would keep you locked up in his room, never stepping out and only there to be used as a cum dump and admired as you lay on top of his bed with your eyes crossed in the wake of an orgasm, legs spread, cum oozing out of your hole and slipping between your ass, utterly making a mess of the sheets below.

Scaramouche laughs at your dazed look, loosening his hold on your neck, enough that you can break out should you wish it. You don’t.

“Are you actually scared?” He taunts, a grin on his lips that managed to show how truly deplorable of a person he is. “Scared that someone would walk in and see how much of a slut you really are?”

You place both palms on his wrist, looking at him imploringly through glassy eyes. “Please—”

“I’ll let you in on a secret.” He steps close, close enough that you can feel his breath fan across your face. Then, in a whisper that is nothing short of threatening, he tells you, “Everyone knows I’m fucking you like the little whore you are, they only need proof. Now, should I send them the video, or are you gonna get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness?”

He delights at the way your eyes dim in understanding. You can feel his hardness throb against you when you bite your lips to stop the rush of tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

You hate yourself for being so easy to be reduced to tears, but mostly you hate yourself for being unable to truly deny him anything.

His hands release their hold on your neck just as you obediently fall to your knees, looking up at him in despair. He raises a brow, gesturing to the growing hardness in his pants with a humorless smile.

Your fingers fumble to undo his zipper, pulling down his waistband and taking him in your hand. Shuddering as you began moving your hand up and down his shaft, he impatiently grabs the back of your head, fingers intertwining with your hair as he forced you to look up at him.

“Open your mouth.”

With only the slightest hesitation, you part your lips for him, taking care to open them wide enough that your teeth won’t graze him. (Your jaw still aches with the memory of being forced to have him inside your mouth until your jaw nearly locked in place and you were crying, pleading with your eyes to please, please make it stop.)

Scaramouche slips inside your mouth with ease, groaning in pleasure as his cock is enveloped with a heat that only your cunt could top. He pushes all the way inside until your nose is brushing against soft tufts of hair and the tip of his length hits the back of your throat. You gag, but no amount of pushing against his thighs has him moving, watching you with pupils blown wide, his cheeks pink and breaths shaky.

“Hah… look at you, all on your knees for me. You’re probably secretly into this, being used like a toy. You’ve always been so hard-to-get, but inside you’re nothing but a slut who likes feeling my cock anywhere inside you.” He laughs, tugging at your hair and pushing himself even deeper than before.

It isn’t until a tear falls from your eye that he retracts himself, giving you only a moment’s respite before pushing your head forward, keeping a harsh but steady pace as he fucks into your mouth, bruising the back of your throat the same way he constantly abuses your insides. Thick spurts of pre-cum escape the slit of his cock, dragging across your mouth and dripping from the corners of your lips. It mixes with your drool, flowing down your chin and onto the floor, slathering his length in a transparent sheen that gathers along the base of cock as he repeatedly slams himself hilt deep into your throat.

You find it difficult to breathe, difficult to swallow, difficult to think as he continues to thrust into your mouth without abandon, his pace becoming erratic, harsh puffs of breath escaping him, and from the familiar twitch of his cock, you can tell he’s close. So you flatten your tongue along his shaft, hollowing your cheeks as best as you can, and closing your eyes to stop the tears from breaking out.

“Fuck, fuck. Look at me,” he orders, voice one pitch away from becoming breathy.

You open your eyes and gaze up at him, unable to stop the wetness that’s gathered in your eyes from falling. His hips falter, his hold on your hair tightening to the point that it makes you cry out from the pain. It only serves to pleasure him more, the vibrations from your throat sending him to the edge as he pushes himself in as far as he can go.

Thick, warm spurts of cum shoot into your mouth, a taste so familiar you barely gag as it gathers in the back of your throat. Scaramouche thrusts himself into you, once, twice, until he’s sure your mouth has finished milking him dry.

He pulls out, not bothering to tuck himself in as he moves his hand from the back of your head to your cheek, tilting your head up. And you already know what he wants you to do, so you open your mouth, let him see his cum mixed with your saliva. Your mouth is too full to keep them all in, flowing down your chin in excess and staining your shirt.

You’re unprepared for the two fingers he shoves into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag and involuntarily swallow his cum.

“That’s right, swallow it all like the cum-thirsty whore that you are,” he laughs at you, at the pathetic look you must sport — red eyes, puffy lips, and dried tear tracks on your cheeks.

He retracts his fingers from your mouth, not bothering to wipe them clean.

“Get up,” he orders, stepping away from you and approaching the sink. You stand on shaky legs, knees sore not only from the hard tiles, but also from the fall earlier.

Scaramouche gestures to the counter, his lips pulled up in a leer, roving his eyes over your figure, lingering on the stain on your chest from the cum you failed to keep in your mouth earlier. You nearly collapse by the sink, arms supporting you as you leaned your top over the counter.

His hands push the hem of your skirt up, palms lingering on the swell of your ass, before he unceremoniously pulls your panties down to your knees. You unconsciously clench down on nothing as your pussy is exposed to the cold air.

He runs a finger up and down your folds, gathering your slick and raising his hand to examine them. You finally raise your head, meeting his eyes on the mirror.

“You’re all wet. I bet you enjoyed it, didn’t you? Being used like a ragdoll. Tell me, do you touch yourself when I’m not there?” He delivers it in a nonchalant tone, but from the tightness of his fingers around your hips, you know he’s serious.

Quickly shaking your head, you try to plead that he’s the only one who’d ever touched you, voice scratchy from his earlier abuse of your throat. “I-I promise, Kuni. I’ve never—”

“Liar,” he hisses.

The only warning you have is the way he shifts, and then his cock slips inside you, far too thick and far too big, pushing through your walls and splitting you in half. The vein that runs along his shaft rubs against your insides in a way that has you clenching down at him with pleasure, even as you cry out in shock and pain at being entered without preparation.

“Fuck,” he groans, the tip of his cock touching the entrance of your womb, and you know without a doubt that he’ll continue hitting that spot later, if only to see the way you squirm and cry in a mix of pain and pleasure. “Still so fucking tight even after I’ve fucked that hole of yours so many times. Hah… if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were a virgin.”

Slowly, he pulls out, relishing in the way your walls clench down on him, trying to suck him back into your heat. And when only the tip of his cock remains inside, he rams his hips into you with a force that has you choking out a sob as he hits your cervix, over and over and over again, until you can no longer distinguish between pain and pleasure. Only an endless motion of him fucking his length into you, fingers digging into your hips in a bruising grip that will no doubt show on your skin tomorrow.

“Kuni—Kuni, please… slow down—” A particularly harsh thrust has you slurring your words, arms losing balance. Your top falls onto the counter, the coolness of the cheap marble against your cheek doing nothing to chase away the heat that’s bubbling inside you, gathering in your belly and threatening to snap with every drag of his length against your cunt.

“Shut up,” he snarls, biting back a moan at how you clench down on him at the harsh order. “I can feel your sloppy little pussy sucking me in. You’re like a bitch in heat, taking my cock in like that. If you even think about letting anyone else use this fucking cunt, I’ll kill them.”

You can do nothing but nod to his words, sobbing on top of the counter as Scaramouche uses you like you’re nothing but a hole for him to fuck himself into, unrepentantly slamming his hips into your ass, blunt nails digging into your skin.

Moans and whines fill the restroom, the air smelling of sex as you cried out his name with every thrust he takes. Your mind is far away, lost in a haze of pleasure, uncaring whether your voice will be heard by any passing teacher or student, uncaring of the unlocked door and the fact that if even one person hears your cries, the whole campus will know it by tomorrow.

So lost in your thoughts as you were, you failed to notice when Scaramouche pulled out his phone and started filming, angling the camera into the sight of his cock pushing in and out of you, a ring of cream gathered at the base, the squelching sound caught by the microphone. He moans, a guttural sound that he doesn’t even try to hide, pace stuttering and hips jerking into you in short, fast thrusts.

You’re unable to hide the way tears run down your cheeks, stopping yourself from reaching your climax until he allows you to, breaths fogging against the counter and toes curling inside your shoes, legs shaking from the effort of keeping your lower half upright, along with your impending release.

“Kuni, I wanna—I wanna—” You sob, unable to form the words and resorting to incoherent babbles.

“Fuck, fuck. You’re so fucking—” Scaramouche lets go of your hip and reaches for your clit, rubbing harsh circles into the sensitive little nub that has you wailing, your hands futilely trying to muffle the loud sounds. “Go.”

Your legs spasm, walls clenching down on him so tight, he has to stop for a moment as you reach your release. Your lips part to let out a scream the way you always do when the thread snaps and your orgasm hits you, and without fail, he reaches out to cover your mouth with his palm, fingers digging into your cheeks.

He lets out a few quick jerks of his hips before he releases inside you, biting down his lip to keep himself quiet, pushing himself deep inside and making sure not a drop of his cum is wasted.

Warmth explodes inside you, as familiar as the feeling of him pulling out, feeling his cum begin to flow out of your hole.

He remains silent, breathing heavy puffs of air before he leans in, pulling your hair back and pressing an impossibly soft kiss to your temple. He holds you steady as you wobble to a stand, arms sore and knees feeling like jelly, eyes red and drool slipping over your chin.

He holds your waist in a steady grip, his arm over your stomach to support you as he helps you pull your panties up and adjust the skirt of your uniform, smoothing out any wrinkles using the palm of his hand.

You watch him do all this with half-lidded eyes, mind still hazy from your climax. Your hands are tight over his arm, trying to keep yourself upright as you lean your back on his chest, trying to catch your breath. You spy his phone lying on the counter but think nothing of it, much too focused on the familiar script of Scaramouche’s quiet aftercare.

He could be so gentle during these times. In the aftermath of his rough fucking, when all that repressed anger has been spent on you, melting away and leaving a hollow shape in his chest. You think he doesn’t know what to do when he isn’t feeling anger or satisfaction — rather, he’s forgotten how to handle feelings that he might call shallow, such as happiness and love.

Quietly, he murmurs, a stark contrast to himself just minutes ago, “I’ll buy us dinner later, just the two of us. I’ll even drive you home after.”

It’s times like these that lets you see a glimpse of his old self, the Kunikuzushi you once loved.

But then he sighs, an annoyed furrow to his brows, and the tender moment is broken.

“Get off. Can’t you stand on your own? Or are you that stupid that you can’t even function without me?”

You take a step out of his hold, legs shaky but managing to support you regardless. From the corner of your eye, you spy him swiping his phone into his pocket, far too quickly for someone attempting to be inconspicuous.

Your heart sinks at the realization of what he’s done — again — but you only have yourself to blame for being so spineless.

Scaramouche turns to you, a considering look in his eye before he reaches out to smooth your hair into something that resembles less of a bird’s nest. He sneers at you, “Don’t go around looking like an imbecile.”

His hand clamps around yours, but despite the harsh look on his face, his touch is soft. He drags you out of the restroom, not even bothering to clean up the mess you’d made in the form of a few splotches of cum mixed with drool on the floor as well as the counters. But neither do you. All that’s on your mind is his hand on yours as he pulls you through the halls.

Like this, with only the back of his head facing you, you could almost pretend you’re back to being those naive children, giggling to each other as he promised to marry you someday back in the summer of your tenth birthday.

Perhaps that’s why you continue to stay, why you’ve never told your parents about the things he’d done to you, why you suffer through humiliation after humiliation just to continue being with him. And it’s unhealthy, you know that much, and maybe you should have turned your back on him when he knocked on your bedroom window with blood on his hands and a terrified look on his sixteen year old face — the beginning of the end, that one turning point in his life that made him the way he is now.

And maybe you do blame yourself for it, for not knowing how to help him, for being so lost and young and utterly ignorant of what was brewing in his head. Maybe that’s why you continue to stay beside him, the guilt of failing him, of failing Kunikuzushi.

His hand tightens around yours when you pass by a gaggle of male students, all of them looking at you with a smirk that soon dies when they see the expression on Scaramouche’s face.

And maybe you can continue deluding and comforting yourself with the thought that you’re here with him willingly, that it’s guilt and a sense of responsibility that makes you stay — even though you know the true reason is that he has a tight leash on your neck in the form of a video he took during the first time he had you, back when he still had bright eyes and a genuine smile, back when you still believed you loved him.

5 sundays of kinktober

word count — 5.1k

taglist — @pardofeliscalico @monicahar @monikidk @sunhareskies @thearcanafan @kaeyats @luvrsthrist @xinii @w9vyy @ineedavirtualboyfriend @holynix @myheartneverbe @karasuneo @rei-vi @shuvvs @miss-fantazmagoria @bunnlatte @shironakuronatasa @leleforpresident @scaranaris-lil-niko @holy365

#not sfw #this is the spiciest fic i’ve ever written #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #fem reader #5th mass #5 sundays #kinktober #genshin kinktober

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v3ry-cherry · 6 months

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wriothesley likes when you come to his office with a burning need in your eyes, spelling what you really want 'right here and now'. he likes when you sit on his lap without waiting for his approval because yes, he would got into a long discussion only to tease the hell ouf of you. he likes when your hands wander on his already loosened tie and half unbuttoned shirt and even more when you impatiently start unbuttoning yours too. these warm kisses you leave on his neck, messy whispers to stop playing with you. but he loves when you need him, cause he loves to be needed, especially by you.

#wriothesley genshin #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley hcs #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley genshin impact #wriothesley scenarios #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact #genshin kinktober #genshin impact kintober

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cathedral-of-sinners · 7 months

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Urges From Within

Kinktober Day 2 - A/B/O & Floor Sex + Diluc

Genre: Smut (MDNI)

CW: sub!gn!reader (no pronouns/genitalia used), reader is called pretty once, my omega and my love, omega!reader, alpha!diluc, mating press, two sections might not make sense/jump around suddenly idk i don't think it's too bad but still

Instincts knew no bounds, Diluc now realized this indisputable fact. Honestly, he should’ve known he couldn't handle your scent circling around him for eight hours straight. Especially in an enclosed space like the tavern.

He'd hoped that the accumulation of each omega in the room would drown you out; he's always found the others suffocating, but you, oh you were just downright intoxicating. He could pick you out from a sea of people if he had to. He’s lucky he only spilled two drinks while mixing today, once when you brushed past him behind the counter and the second when you returned the empty glasses on your tray.

Diluc now knows for sure he’s unable to resist your pleasantly distracting scent, but he also sees that he’s realized this too late.

"D-diluc! Ah, slow down, pl-please!" the delicious mix of pleasure and pain swirls within the pit of your stomach, drowning out everything else. The chill of the hardwood floor has long since faded, replaced and overruled by the heated touch of your skin and sweat. Your lover, despite your request, keeps his unrelenting pace, hips snapping against yours.

"You were begging me to go faster not long ago, so I am." Is all he says, taking a moment to readjust his position. The sudden shift has you moaning, his cock running over just the right spot. Faintly you can hear him mutter there's the spot before starting up his thrusts again, aiming for that sweet spot. You're tossed between staring up at the ceiling, off to the side or right at his gorgeous face, his hair falling and framing him picture-perfectly. When the tip of his cock connects with his new target though you don't get to choose where you're looking, head thrown back in ecstasy.

Diluc's fingers gently stroke your cheek, a husk to his voice, "my omega, so pretty for me, spread out and taking my cock deep," he whispers, pressing forward a little more on your folded legs, enough so he can plant a kiss on your forehead. "But they're also so, so needy. I couldn't even take you to the bedroom before you were pulling my clothes off."

"Perhaps I should punish you for that?" The mere idea of your orgasm being withheld from you easily has tears forming in your eyes, and seeing this, Diluc tilts your head to face him, shushing you. "My love, it's alright, just be good for me and I'll give you exactly what you want. I promise."

Nodding, you grip your legs a little tighter, taking care to keep them pinned close to you. Smiling, your lover picks up the pace, the sounds of your love and lust echoing in the winery. You can feel yourself lose the ability to think coherently, babbling only about how good it is, how good he is.

Diluc knows he's close, he can feel it in the tightening of his stomach, the knot growing tighter and tighter, begging to snap. Just a little longer and he'll bring you both to your desired release.

"Di-Diluc, cl-close, I'm close," you manage to say, moaning.

"Me too," burying his face in the crook of your neck, the redhead inhales deeply, taking in your scent. Addicting, intoxicating, the same irresistible scent that captured him when you first met, the same one that sent him into his rut and you in turn into your heat. And it's the same scent that tips him over the edge.

"C-cumming, I'm cumming," and no soon after does Diluc pump his cum in you, warm and filling, moaning right in your ear. You too reach your high, his cock having hit just the right spot, resulting in you clenching around him and leaving no room for him to pull out.

Taking a moment to collect himself, Diluc helps you stretch your legs back to normal before laying on his side, keeping you tucked close as to not let you feel the oncoming cold now that the moment is over.

It's silent for the first few seconds, his warm palms massaging at your skin, until he decides to quietly pipe up, "I've always thought you smelt so good, did you know that?" he questions, loosening his hold just a little so he's not crushing you.

You can't help but laugh, resting your cheek against his arm, "I had an inkling, my love." Tilting your head to press a kiss to the nearest place you could, you continue, "here's my secret though, I think you smell pretty delectable yourself. I can never get enough of it - I can never get enough of you."

"I as well," he tells you. You both rest a little more before rising from the ground and cleaning yourselves and the foyer up. You didn't dare leave the mess you made for the maids to clean up when they got back from their night off.

Tag list: @rain-soaked-sun || @the-purity-pen || @stygianoir || @the-massive-simp || @londonstylesxx

If you'd liked to be tagged in any future works lmk via comment, DM or my askbox!

#diluc x reader #diluc x reader smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin impact diluc #genshin diluc x reader #genshin kinktober #diluc x gender neutral reader #genshin diluc #diluc x you #—val writes

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mistachesme · 2 years

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Kinktober 01 - Kazuha + orgasm denial (afab reader)

Tw: pussy slapping, sex after break up, kazuha is still obsessed with reader

The way your body betrays you with just a simple touch from him is insulting.

You can't meet his eyes in embarrassment when he rips open your shirt. And, you loathe the way you can't keep your moans at bay when he starts playing with your tits using his tongue.

"Hurry," you plead, and he awards you a sharp bite in return which makes you flinch.

"Patience." Comes his calm reply. "or is it 'cause you are dying to feel my cock?"

Silence.

It makes you sick to the stomach that you still want him despite breaking up with him last week.

It was easy for him to coax you into his bed when you came over to his place to get your stuff.

It was easy for you to fall right into his arms.

You missed him so much yet this feels so wrong.

"We shouldn't b-be doing this." You sob into his neck, your body trembling as he continues pleasuring you.

He brings a hand to caress your head affectionately while his other hand is occupied with playing with your body.

You are seated on his lap and you can tell he's hard. Yet the expression on his face is unchanging. He simply watches your face contort in pleasure as he fingers you.

A lazy flick on your clit got you trembling in his arms. You can taste your sweet release, you are so close to coming undone and then suddenly it's gone.

"W-why?" You indignantly question him. You feel like crying when he smirks at your ruined face.

You are tempting. his eyes flicker to your trembling lips and wet eyes that are begging him to do something.

"What do you need me to do, baby? Tell me."

He watches your face turn shameful. When you don't answer him, he cups your tits, pinching your nipples meanly.

"You want me to touch you here?"

Letting go of your poor breasts, he lands a harsh slap right on your pussy making you sob, before slipping his fingers inside.

"You want me here, hmm? You gotta tell me."

You feel him grinding his dick against your ass. He smirks when you twitch in anticipation.

"Or.... you want my cock?" Comes his filthy suggestion.

You were reduced to tears by the time he puts his cock inside you.

Licking his lips, he watches your hips raise up to meet his thrusts. The wet sounds your pussy makes got his head spinning.

He can tell you are close by the way your hips shake and your breath hitch. And then he stops. Once again, depriving you of your sweet release.

"Nononononono... 'zuha please." This has to be a joke. Kazuha was never mean to you in bed.

"Maybe, i should keep you like this, forever." He mumbles, his eyes half lidded. "Always needing my touch and make you beg for it"

He wipes your tears with his thumb carefully. Ignoring the little punches on his chest, he presses a kiss on your forehead.

"Maybe then you won't leave me again."

Taglist: @stygianoir

#minnie writes 💐#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin x reader smut #genshin kinktober #kazuha smut #kazuha x reader smut #kazuha kinktober

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miyukiistuff · 7 months

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KINKTOBER DAY 1: DAY OFF

THOMA X F!READER

Synopsis: After a heated argument with Thoma, you refuse to speak a single word to him. He believes there is only one way to get you to speak now.

CONTENT WARNINGS: NSFW [18+], F!reader, slight angst, mentions of argument, Jealous!Thoma, Thoma being emotional, implied insecurities, unprotected sex, body worship, and dacryphilia.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Thoma was not the type to raise his voice at you. But when he does, he definitely feels bad for doing it. So when he noticed that you'd been ignoring him, not speaking a single word as if he wasn't even there, he couldn't deny the sinking feeling at the pit of his stomach when you refused to look at him.

...Instead, you were looking at someone else- Ayaka.

Thoma shook his head; perhaps he was just overreacting. But with the way you stared at her in awe at her new dress, he couldn't help but feel a familiar burning sensation in his chest.

"What do you think, [Name]?" Ayaka asked, twirling as she looked at you for approval.

Your eyes sparkled, "It looks beautiful, My Lady!" You exclaimed, making Thoma avert his eyes from the both of you.

"Really?" Ayaka's cheeks turned into a shade of pink before she looked down. "Very well. I would like to wear this for tomorrow's event."

Thoma wasn't one to feel jealous at all, too. At least, that's what he liked to believe. He trusted you, and he didn't find himself in a situation to feel that kind of emotion, yet. Until now.

"I agree, M'lady. I believe that others will be in awe once they see you in your new attire."

He glanced at you from the side of his eye before giving a small smile to Ayaka who was visibly excited for the upcoming event.

Later that day, Thoma had asked Ayato for a day off of house chores. To which, he was given the permission to due to the upcoming event. Thoma smiled and thanked him.

As Thoma stood in front of your shared home, he took a deep breath and held it. He opened the door, "I'm home!" He shouted, taking off his vest and his black, metal headband.

You were sitting cooking in the kitchen and replied with nothing but silence. He sighed and walked over to you.

"What'cha cooking, baby?" he asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. He rested his chin on your shoulder, looking at the side of your face.

"..." You didn't respond to his advances and kept cooking, making his smile fade.

To lessen the awkwardness between the two of you, Thoma let go and instead sat at the dinner table and waited for you to finish cooking. After a few moments, you put out the fire from the furnace and took off your apron.

Once you finished setting the dishes on the table, Thoma cleared his throat. "So, uhm... how was your day today?" he asked.

You stared at him in response, which didn't really give him much of an idea. He then took a bite out his food and hummed.

"Mmm, this is really good, babe!" He savored the flavor of the dish.

But yet again, you stayed quiet.

After dinner, you started getting ready to sleep while Thoma did the dishes. As he did so, you were in the bedroom. As you brushed your hair, he'd already finished washing the dishes.

With the attempt of trying to make a conversation with you, Thoma sat on the futon. As he watched you brush your hair, his eyes travelled over to your hand which then led to your slightly exposed shoulders, then to your waist, then...

He gulped and looked away. Ever since that heated argument you guys had, you refused to talk to him at all. And that obviously meant that no physical affection had been exchanged. Nor did you smile at his way, or speak to him using endearments.

But gods, he missed being called out by your voice.

He stared at you through the mirror you were looking at and held his breath. "[Name]," he spoke. "I... I just want you to speak to me. Please."

You finally turned to look at him, this time with glossy eyes. "Talk about what, Thoma?"

"Because if it's about that day, i'm not in the mood to talk about anything " he held your hand, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"I know. It was my fault for not going, [Name]. And i'm sorry for that. Please just..."

His breath hitched, and he felt tears threatening to leave the corners of his eyes. "Please. Give me another chance. Just one more chance, baby. It's all I need. Just one chance to prove to you that- that I can be good for you."

And that chance you gave to him.

You were under him, his hair tickling the sides of his face. He slowly took off your yukata, revealing your bare shoulders. He leaned in, giving small pecks. His lips were soft, and he was so gentle.

He trailed down before looking at you with almost begging eyes. "May I..? Please?" he said just above a whisper.

The moment he got approval from you, he wasted no time taking your clothes off. His tongue met with your nipples, sucking on them gently. His other hand made its way over to your other one, kneading it softly with his warm palms.

You covered your lips with the back of your hand to let out a muffled moan, and your cheeks turned into a shade of red.

He stopped sucking on your tits and instead, his lips led to somewhere lower than that. He glanced up at you again for approval, before giving your clit a small lick. He licked at the bottom of your clit, purposely missing it to get a reaction from you.

Your fingers went through his hair and grabbed a fistful of it before squeezing your thighs together. His hand held the soft flesh of your inner thighs as he chuckled.

"You gotta stay still so I can taste you, baby." He hummed, savoring your wetness mixed with his saliva. He sucked on your soft bundle of nerves while also kneading your breast with his other hand.

"You taste so good.." He mumbled against your inner thigh. Soon, his hand stopped kneading your tits and instead he inserted two fingers inside your wet, throbbing pussy. With just a small curl of his fingers, you felt a tickling sensation between your thighs, and even more so when he pulled it in and out of you while he abused your clit with his tongue.

You let out a loud whine once you felt the familiar feeling of a knot forming in your core. Thoma, knowing you were close, quickened the pace of his fingers. He curled his fingers and found the special spot inside you, making your breath hitch.

Wet noises filled the room, as well as the sound of your muffled moans and Thoma's heavy breathing.

With a final cry of pleasure, you whined as your legs shook, your juices sprinkling on Thoma's chin and down to his neck.

Thoma felt his pants grow tighter. And admittedly, he'd been grinding on the futon as he ate you out to get some form of release.

He chuckled, "Fuck, baby... you really know how to turn me on, huh?"

He leaned in close to you, kissing your lips so gently as if he was afraid of breaking you.

"Thoma... Baby..?" you spoke softly, making him look at you.

His finger touches your cheek and he answers, "Mhm?"

"I... I think i'm ready," you squirmed underneath him.

He smirked, giving you another kiss on the lips before positioning himself to your pussy. "Let's do this slowly, okay baby?" he kissed your forehead.

His gives his hard cock a few good pumps before his tip kisses your pussy lips. And as he slowly inched himself inside you, he let out a groan, yet continued to go further.

"Thoma..." your breath quickened, "Baby it hurts..."

Thoma panted, "It's okay, baby... It's okay.."

It had been awhile, after all. And all while he hated seeing you in pain, he also couldn't deny the fact that the tears that formed at the corners of your eyes while it rolled to the back of your head in pleasure, wasn't a sight to see.

"Archons, you're so tight 'round me baby." He kissed your bottom lip.

Once his dick was fully inside you now, he pushed your hair back, getting out strands of your hair away from your face. A tear left your eye as you felt his dick stretching you from the inside.

"Can I move now, baby? Is that alright?"

Upon seeing your eager nod, Thoma took a deep breath and thrusted his hips against you. His face turned red and so he put his forehead against your shoulder to hide it.

He went slow, yet deep, and you felt every vein on his cock inside your gummy walls.

"[Name].." he whimpered against your shoulder. "Fuck, you feel good. So fucking good.."

He thrusted faster, this time. The tip of his cock hitting that one spot inside you continuously. You moaned, "Thoma... Thoma.."

You felt another knot forming in your core. You gulped as he kisses your shoulder. You sobbed, hands gripping onto his back as your nails dug into his skin and scratched his back with your nails.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as tears streamed down the corners of your eyes. He then chuckled, "You crying?"

He panted, a smirk making its way into his face. Sweat dripped from his neck then down to his chiseled chest.

"Baby..?" you called out to him, "'m close..."

He grunted, pushing his hips against your inner thighs as he went deeper. "Mhm, yeah? Me too," he said.

"C'mon baby, don't be shy. Cum, baby. Cum f'me," he whispered to you before kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. He panted against the kiss, and you moaned against his lips.

"Love you," he mumbled, "Gods, I love you."

He pulled away, throwing his head back. "Mmm..! Cumming..!"

He spurts out ribbons of his cum deep inside you. As you felt the warmth of his juices fill your pussy, you felt your whole body shake. You squirt around his cock, mixing with his cum and your wetness.

He laid on top of you, his head resting on your chest. He chuckled dryly, "We should definitely do that more often, yeah?"

"Who said we have to stop now?" you replied, looking down at him.

"I don't see any reason why we should," he replied back before pinning your wrists on the futon as you felt his cock growing hard once again against your pelvis.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading this! I apologize for the late upload because of the busy schedule. However, I do hope you enjoyed this one! Hopefully it wasn't too boring because I haven't written any smut in awhile... Anyway, love you guys <33 again, thank you so much for reading <33

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin kinktober #genshin smut #thoma x reader #Miyukiistuff

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atheliasnotebook · 2 years

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"you're so tight, i can't take it."

pairing: thoma x gn!reader

tags: NSFW

warnings: [!] not proofread [!]

author’s note: kinktober day 1 - list can be found here

but all in all, i know i’m behind—just bear with me a bit :D

NSFW tags: anal penetration

thoma: "i'm sorry, it just feels so good—"

it seems like the kamisatos are out on official business. well, you know what that means.

thoma was just simply sweeping the house, dusting everywhere in each tiny little crevice—lifting up ornaments tasseled trinkets to squander any dust bunnies, and be content with how sparkling clean the yashiro commission looked after his handiwork.

and that's when you showed up, dressed in a pleasant-looking short coat and shirt in your adventurer's boots. he smiles, setting his dusting tool aside on a side table before taking you up into his arms in a hug tighter than most would be willing to give.

"why hello there, (y/n)! you're all dressed in your adventuring gear, where will you be heading to today?"

you’re heading out somewhere sent by the guild to track some smuggler’s tracks. thoma smiles, approaching you as though you’re going to answer his question with a resounding “yes.”

“i’ve finished cleaning, would you like me to come with—“

you reassure him that you’ll be okay on your own. and thoma crosses his arms, sighing with that same smile on his face.

“do i have to bring up the last time you went to that place?”

you just shake your head, not wanting to recall. you were a little confident in your abilities, because the report said there were two people seen stealing some precious trinkets and shipping them over to sumeru. then, when heading over to the coast off inazuma city, plot twist—it’s one, and upon approaching them, six more appeared. you were very lucky that general gorou was actually heading to the city, and found rescued you from your predicament. a treasure hunter, mixed in with a couple of fatui agents and maidens isn’t exactly the easiest sort of job—especially with the kind of equipment you had on you.

“so either i come along with you this time, or you make sure you’re better prepared…” the man mutters, almost looking saddened. “i really don’t want to have to bandage you looking like… that, of course.”

now that really did it. you asked if there were any spare equipment that you could borrow inside the house.

“well, come inside then,” he remarks, leading the way, offering his hand to you as he walks you up the steps. and you take it, because why not?

but the moment that the both are of you are out of sight from the other guards, he closes the door, grinning as he takes you by the wrist and pins you to the floor—cushioning your fall with his hands.

his breath dances with your frenzied puffs as your faces are barely centimeters away, pulling closer as he gently presses his lips against yours—absorbing the passion of your legs squeezing around his thigh. his pace quickens as he hoists your waist up, kissing you deeper with one hand on your cheek whilst the other is lifting you up. his stifled moans quickly escape his lips as he tears away from you—where he flips you over and slides his hands beneath your underwear while pulling the back of shorts down.

not even paying attention—you feel the warmth and size of his tip press in between your sex and your ass, before feeling how your natural liquids perfectly lubricate the length of his cock sliding between your thighs. you shudder, taking in the sudden forwardness of thoma.

“i’m sorry—i-i just… missed you so much, (y/n)…” the week’s been long without you—“ he whispers frantically behind your ear, keeping you pinned down. you turn your head, looking up at thoma—whose cheeks and ears are extremely flushed.

reassuring that it’s okay, you simply collapse under thoma’s weight, shuddering at how his breath tickles the edges of your neck. he presses himself gently inside, and you feel way too overwhelmed with sensitivity to even pay attention to him prodding into a hole that you never allow him to touch unless it’s every so often.

“w-wait—“ you mutter frantically.

“please? it’s been at least a month since we’ve done anything together—i promise i’ll be gentle…”

you can’t say no. how could you say no to those sad puppy-dog eyes and that cute face nuzzling into your neck. you complacently agree, bolstering the upper half of your body up while thoma grasps your love handles, putting you down even more while gently pulsing around your hole.

and he pushes it in further—muttering gently…

“god, you’re so tight, i can’t take it…”

and listening to your exasperate whimpers of pain gets him a little going. he watches your face twist and confound at the foreign feeling that fills your back cavity. he moans under his breath, and you whimper from the pain—and how much it practically rips your body apart. you cry, and he whispers—

“i’m sorry, it just feels so good…”

but despite how it burns and feels like it’s going to make your hole explode… god, it hurts so bad that it feels so good. you hiccup from the years, and thoma gently shushes you, proceeding to pound into you softly, whispering the sweetest little comments in your ears

“i love you so much…”

“don’t worry about making a mess honey—i’ll find a way to clean it afterwards…~”

and when he gets closer to his climax, he finally asks:

“can… huff… can i fill this hole, please?”

and when you give him the okay, his motions rapidly quickening as the both of you chase each other’s orgasms, you press your ass more into his crotch while he slams into your ass once more—splurging all his hot and lewd liquids to load into you.

he thanks you repeatedly, wrapping his arms around you as he whispers his constant gratitude.

#thoma x y/n #thoma x you #thoma genshin #thoma smut #thoma x reader #genshin impact thoma #genshin thoma #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin kinktober #athi.kinktober22 #kinktober #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #genshin fics #genshin scenarios #genshin impact imagines

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kyrstin · 7 months

Link

I’m doing Kinktober for Genshin this year! I’ll update this post daily with each day’s ship and kink!

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin kinktober #kinktober #kinktober2023 #my fics

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suguru-getos · 6 months

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୨・┈﹕✦﹕ Kinktober Day 23﹕✦﹕┈・୧

event masterlist

-> neuvillette x f! reader -> aftercare

"please, please neuv- agh!" you exclaimed as neuvillette pulled out another orgasm out of you, with his skillful fingers rubbing at your sensitive clit and his cock kissing your cervix with every thrust. He's not a normal human being, he's the dragon soverign and the very fact that he's build different, makes it harder for you to handle him. His cock has ridges, the way they give your cunt the most friction It could possibly take, the way the girth almost tears your pretty pussy apart. Neuv loves it, the blacked out expression on your beautiful face when you get accustomed to him fucking you in his shape.

"there there, that's alright." neu's thrusts halted for a moment, watching you cream over him and letting him fill you up all over again. The left over cum dribbling down through your plugged pussy, strained from his cock. There was only so much you could take after all.

"it's okay, I got you now." neuvillette cooed, kissing your forehead deeply to ground you from the haze, he's not been gentle tonight and now he just needs to remind you how gentle he can be. Hands traversing through your skin, massaging your arms, your pelvis, petting your sore breasts he nipped on, kissing your collarbone, kissing your cheeks. "such a good girl you are, darling." he smiles softly, glancing at the way you stare at him, so love drunk and so immersed in subspace. "you know I love you right?" neuvilette crooned, craddling you into his arms after he pulled out. "ssh ssh ssh, it's okay." he hummed, watching your ragged breaths slowly taking the direction of calming down. you were wordless, mindless and oh so fucked up in the best ways possible. No one could ever make you feel so good after all, it feels like you're floating.

"let go," neuvillettte gently commanded, watching your pupils shut down as you strain yourself to keep you awake. You croaked a small, "I love you" to him.

"I love you too my darling mate, please, let go. I'm here for you." neuvillette reminded you tenderly, his knuckles running gently through the apples of your cheek.

"let's run us a bath, how about that?" neuvillette suggested after letting you gather yourself enough in his warmth, in his soft embrace. You nodded, leaning in against his chest, humming in approval.

He picked you up princess-style, making a beeline towards the rest room, turning the jacuzzi on of the bathtub, cradling you into him like you're his little baby. Like you'd break if he was even slightly careless.

The warm water soothed your aches, while neuvillette used this opportunity to hold you close, cooing sweet nothings into your ear- how special you are, how you make him feel loved, how you made him feel like he's a part of fontaine, not an outsider, how you kiss him every morning when he leaves for work and how he can't wait to come back to you. God- you make him spiral so good for you, in all the best ways. "I'll not be kind to anyone who even thinks of harming you." there is a slight sense of degeneracy attached to the tone of his sentence. You hummed, sighing and letting yourself bask into the sweet feeling of being taken cared of. You nodded, "no one's gonna harm me, not until they know who's wife I am." you chuckled, and neuvillette for once, agreed, too. He would do anything to protect you after all. <3

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin thirst #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette thirst #genshin kinktober #kinktober 2023 #neuvillette x reader smut #neuvillette imagines #genshin imagines

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anantaru · 7 months

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DAY 6 — BLOW JOB

kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3

𖧡 — including — lyney, kaveh, kaeya, neuvillette

𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, oral (male! receiving), deepthroating, spit & cum, petnames used: baby & love, a little praise kink, flustered, love sick men

𖧡 — LYNEY

the heat was emanating the backstage-room from the rawness of your tongue that pillowed the underside of lyney's shaft, his tip almost prodding against your throat and bulging a little lower as your boyfriend tries his thorough best to compose himself, he truly does try, but there is only so much lyney was able to endure and it’s with a flush of roses, that peek of champagne pink on his cheeks, then he lets out a soft, shattered gasp in between, a quiet noise of need as you wrap one hand around his length while sucking on the tip.

he was cornered around your fingertips, smooth skin tickling his thudding cock as he palms his hand around your head, "fuck—" he breathes, rutting into your pace half way with your hand lazily wandering down his balls, cupping them in your palm before massaging him with subdued traces.

"just look at you.." he whispers, indiscernible, "just— ugh, just look on how good you're taking me."

the sight before him was of an obscene variety, and you're slotting yourself perfectly to be on the sight under him, "y-you're so warm." he shivers, relishing in how his cock was messily sliding over your tongue, it's almost embarrassing on how much pre leaked from his slit, and the wetness of your spit didn't help one bit— leaving it to lyney to easily fuck into your mouth, in and out, in and out, desperate for more, but he braces himself, needing it to be you who's doing most of the work.

frankly, his climax will hit him much harder that way, when his precious, alluring angel did everything to make him cum all nicely and satiated. the head of his cock ghosts near your throat when you take another inch, not nearly enough to fit him in completely but the pressure and motivation you required was there, unable to wait for lyney to finally spill his milky whites down your aching throat, it's like he's setting you aflame from inside and out whenever you let him release himself past your plump lips, your eyes roving over his painfully, scrunched up expression when he finally does it.

𖧡 — KAVEH

everything about you was just so intimate and personal, the taste of your tongue kitty licking his tip, or the extended heat of your mouth swallowing him whole was almost enough for kaveh to make him cry— issuing his last, remaining power to halter the crystalline globules to escape and froth down his bristling cheeks.

your tongue, so slick and wet of him cum, explored his cock so that you know he's thoroughly soaked in your spit. you needed this as much as he did, you wanted him to make you feel you in a different kind of way because in your relationship— kaveh was all about giving you his everything, all of him until he sadly tends to forget himself during the process— but your brilliant trace, or your tight lips sealed around his shaft and gulping down messily around his tip to flex your throat around the bulging cockhead was all it took him to enjoy himself.

today is about you, you tend to tell him, destroying every shred of worry inside of the man.

"so soft," he suddenly breathes, struggling for air , "you—you're so soft." and after a moment gone by, you thought that this just wasn't enough, wrapping your fingers around his shaft before pushing each inch inside, all of them within your mouth now being full and heavy of his cock laying flat on your tongue, digging into the back of your throat.

"aah— what?!" you catch him off guard and he swiftly slants his head down to fix his eyes on you, his hips uncontrollably snapping and fucking your tight throat while you're relaxing your jaw all nicely. you don't even have time to hiccup around his shaft before his hand touches the back of your head, the heavy pressing sucking you in, pulling you back and forth with a mix of your saliva and his salty pre dribbling down the corners of your mouth, over your chin and touching the ground at last.

it's so sinful, kaveh thinks, although the desire of the physical contact makes it hot again.

𖧡 — KAEYA

"are you really sure you can handle all of me, baby?"

kaeya's smirk was always assured to hold you hostage— tugged away in a choke hold, he was so unbelievably sexy that it was difficult to avert your gaze at him, even when he could be a little mean at times.

regardless of such, in this current predicament it was different, because you can easily see how his knees were trembling and threatening to give up on him by how quick you were sucking him off— your pace, a cruel one, the flicks of your tongue setting overstimulating hits on his shaft that kaeya could sense were broadening inside his muscles and spreading.

and just when you were hiccuping around his girth, with your lips beginning to ache at the stretch, he looks down at you as he sees the lingering drunken cloud on your moving facial expression, revealing the underlying emotions of desire burning deep inside your gut.

your mouth has been so good to kaeya, soft and wet as his cockhead kisses its way across your tight throat to pillow inside, just distinctly to nudge on it, slipping his hand around your hair to tilt you back and forth just perfectly.

you knew your safe word and kaeya was always aware when he shouldn't apply too much of his strength on you but your entire body was too focused on this, fusing into the enjoyment it brought you, every muscle taut under the strain of your sloppy mouth soaking him with your spit, tightly strung like the strings of a cello.

"fuck.. angel.." he mutters, the strong pulses his cock set free ring through your tongue as you gaze up at him, glassy eyes right under his mercy, and your mind certainly couldn't find enough words to describe that hot and bothered sight in front of you.

seeing what a mess you were able to set free on kaeya's frame feigning stability when all he wanted to do was pull his cock out of your mouth so he could fuck you right away, the cold ground was quite perfect already, you do not need a bed tonight.

and at the thought, his forehead warms up and wets with his sweat lacing on top as you flex your throat all tight, swallowing the load of his pre before grasping at your saliva.

𖧡 — NEUVILLETTE

"do not move, okay?" you order in a dizzying breath, steadfast glare holding neuvillette's as you're working your thumb gently to stroke his cheekbone— "you're stunning." you say, and those intriguing eyes of his when you drop to your knees whilst being hidden behind the desk of his office.

"you haven't seen yourself then, my love." he implores, "the way i see you." and his voice was wavering slightly, but it's quite stirring when you hum appreciatively, neuvillette gulps down the batched saliva in his mouth before helping you release himself off his pants— barely pushing them down, just so they could bundle up over his strong thighs. he's never done anything of that sort before and the thought of you making love to him in such new way only added fuel to his want.

he shuts his eyes and leans back into his chair when you glide your tongue over the sensitive skin for the very first time, the sloppy sound of it unable to prevent himself into pressing up into the strange sensation. the man gasps and coughs when you take his tip, eyes fluttering down to watch you suckle on his length but closing them right after of sheer embarrassment.

fuck, it feels so good, how you're sucking gently, and he attempts to still his hips to let you take the lead, lightly arching his back into your mouth to make it as comfortable as possible.

one more inch, and more, you're for certain that there wasn't a way for you to possibly fit all of him in your mouth, and his cock was twitching against your tongue as you almost airily giggle out at how easily he was to get into this state— especially the shakes and shudders of his legs, still struggling for air as you scratch over his half-clothed thighs, blunt nails roaming up and down his muscular body, messing him up beyond salvation.

he's done for, because he knows exactly what you're doing to him as he raises his hips into your wet mouth, feeling how his cock was pressing against your skin and imbedding his musky scent on top of you, a long, expanding length of warmth and need challenging the the iudex of fontaine.

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abyssruler · 2 years

Text

5 SUNDAYS OF KINKTOBER

1ST MASS ♱ zhongli x fem!reader x raiden ei

homily — you’ve been the most devoted servant of the anemo archon since the end of the war, not noticing the heated looks by two gods that have followed you for millennia. in your moment of loss at the sudden slumber of barbatos after the battle with durin, they don’t hesitate to take the opportunity to convert you to their religion.

communion — comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist!

fem afab reader, dubcon, power imbalance, sub reader, praise, subtle manipulation, fingering, oral f-receiving, dom ei and zhongli, implied venti x reader

5 sundays of kinktober

Lingering stares, stolen glances, and every excuse taken to see even a single glimpse of you.

If Morax and Beelzebub’s affections for the Anemo Archon’s priestess could be summed up into a few measly words, it would be that. Were Barbatos a more sharing god, perhaps he wouldn’t have left his two good acquaintances to pine hopelessly for his most devout follower for the better part of two thousand or so years.

He is not someone who lacks empathy, nor someone who could even be called possessive, but there is something so delightful about the idea of depraving two gods of your attention, that which only he is permitted to have.

Alas, such greed and mischief will be his undoing.

“Sleep well, My Lord. I shall await your awakening however many centuries it may take.”

(Barbatos wakes up five hundred years later to his friend corrupted by the Abyss and the knowledge that his once-devoted priestess is now the wife of two Archons. He hears the tale of how two nations nearly went to war for your hand, but the only thing on his mind is how it would have been three had he been there.)

✧

In the aftermath of the Cataclysm, you are left adrift.

There is no room for you in Mondstadt, where people will gawk and bow in reverence for the mythical figure of Barbatos’ High Priestess in the flesh. Dvalin is to be left to heal in peace and recuperate from his fight. Your Archon has fallen into a deep slumber, and while you are happy to wait for him to wake up, your mind seeks to find something else to occupy it.

Much like the wind your god favors, you wander across the land sculpted by your god aimlessly.

That is, until the winds come bearing news of the death of Baal.

✧

Beelzebub startles when you appear before her in a flash of golden leaves, bearing the scent of your homeland and something else that is entirely unique to yourself.

It isn’t your place to comfort gods, but she is a dear friend and not simply the shadow she always insists on being.

“Ei,” it’s the first time you use her true name (it won’t be the last), “I am sorry for your loss.”

And so much more than that. She has lost her sister, her companions, and has suddenly been thrust into the role of an Archon whilst her nation suffers the aftermath of the destruction that Khaenri’ah’s monsters left.

It is a heavy burden, even for a god. You would know — Barbatos had often lamented to you in the past few millennia how difficult being an Archon was, let alone being an Archon in the fallout of a war.

She approaches cautiously as first, as if unable to believe that you are truly here and not guarding Mondstadt as you so often are found to be doing. You take the initiative and offer your hand.

Her fingers close around your palm tightly. She’s shaking, you realize, so you offer your other hand with the promise of comfort.

She takes it and never lets go.

✧

Ei, you find, is a very clingy friend.

She insists you hold her hand and accompany her to every little outing and event that she needs to attend as the god of Inazuma. At night, she asks you to hold her while she pretends to fall into a deep slumber. You let her arms wrap around you, unable to say that you know she’s not asleep. She is grieving in her own way, you tell yourself, let her have this. Even if her touches linger a moment too long and her hands roam places they shouldn’t.

Your soft heart and the principles engrained into you by your god tells you of kindness and the need to help others even at the cost of yourself.

Her hand brushes against the swell of your breasts.

Let her have this.

✧

A letter bearing the seal of Liyue comes during the fifth month of your stay in Inazuma.

Ei looks up from where she nestled her face into your shoulder, shifting to get a better look at the letter and, in turn, shifting you as well from your place on her lap.

It is a thing close friends do, you tell yourself and ignore the intimate connotations such actions would bring up.

“Morax is inviting me for tea. He says he has missed my company terribly in the past few years we haven’t seen each other.”

Her grip on your waist tightens for an infinitesimal moment.

She is reluctant to let you go.

✧

With Liyue comes spring and the Lantern Rite Festival that will be celebrated for the first time since the end of the Cataclysm.

Morax is as imposing as ever in his white robes and the majestic golden horns that rests at the top of his head like a crown. He welcomes you to his side with a smile, guiding you to your seat with a hand on the small of your back that lingers for a second too long to be appropriate.

You let it slide, just as you’ve let many of his and Ei’s accidents over the past.

He makes for pleasant company, but the winds in the mountain have been strangely upset. One particular strong gust of wind tips the dainty cup of tea over, liquid spilling and dripping down the table and onto the dress you had saw fit to wear on your trip to the land of contracts.

Morax apologizes for the state of the weather today, but you reassure him that all is well.

“I suppose this was my Lord’s way of telling me to wash away the dirt of my travels. I apologize, Morax, but it seems we shall have to cut our tea session short.”

He tells you that it’s alright, suggesting a place for you to bathe in and hinting at a meeting between the two of you again tomorrow. “Perhaps, since Barbatos is no longer looking over your shoulder, I might give you a tour around Liyue?”

“That would be lovely!”

✧

You feel eyes resting on your naked form as you immerse yourself in the cold river water.

You tell yourself that you are in the wilderness, there are bound to be animals and all kinds of avian out and about, curious what the new scent of dandelions and sakura blossoms are.

Gold flashes upon your periphery, but when you turn to look, there is nothing but shrubs and trees within sight.

✧

You spend more time in Liyue than you did in Inazuma.

And when it was time to leave to return to your nation, he refuses you.

✧

Morax, unlike Ei, is a different sort of clingy.

Where Ei was soft, hesitant touches that lingered but never stayed, hidden stares and roaming hands when she thinks you aren’t paying attention; Morax is as hard and unmoving as the element he rules over.

“Please, Morax, I hardly think this is appropriate...”

And it is telling how much gravity those words hold, given how you never spoke such words to Ei no matter how much her hands swept over your breasts and thighs and lingered dangerously close to that one spot between your legs.

“Is it?” he asks, breath ghosting over the skin of your neck, sharp teeth brushing over the sensitive spot but never clamping down—yet. “I should think this constitutes as a simple activity between friends. Or was Beelzebub wrong in her assumptions when she mentioned how close the two of you have gotten in the last few months?”

“No, but—ahh...” Your voice veers off into a mere whimper when he presses his tongue to your pulse and licks a long stripe from the junction of your shoulder all the way to the underside of your jaw.

“Or did she lie when she said how you spend every night in her bed, letting her touch wherever she pleases without voicing a single complaint?”

“I-It wasn’t like that. I—Morax!” you exclaim when you feel one of his large hands grabs the inside of your thigh, shifting close (far, far too close) to that sensitive place between your legs. “You musn’t—”

He ignores your admonition and uses his other hand to pry your legs apart. “So she lied, then. I shall deal with her when the time comes, but for now...”

His hand starts moving closer. Frantic and much too distressed to use your vision, you weakly grab his wrists to spot the inevitable.

You feel his chuckle reverberate from where your back is pressed to his chest. It is all the more humiliating when he subtly bounces his leg that you’re sitting on to shift you closer to him.

His hand wrenches free from your light grip and clasps both of your wrists in one, utterly dwarfing yours in size. You try to squirm away from his grip, but in doing so, you unintentionally brush your clothed cunt over the hand that had previously been resting on your thigh.

Your mouth parts at the sudden contact, unconsciously clenching at nothing and feeling your face warm at the breathy laugh that escapes Morax’s lips.

“Don’t try to deny this, deny me just as you have done for thousands of years.” His teeth slides tantalizingly slow over your neck. “If the High Priestess of Barbatos didn’t want this, she would have used her power that once cleaved mountains to escape from my grasp.”

His fingers glide over your clothed slit. This time, you let him with only a mild protest that sounds weak even to your own ears.

You feel him smile against your skin.

✧

You awake to the feeling of a knot building up in your stomach and the cool breeze over your naked form.

Golden eyes pin you in place. Only then do you register the soft, squelching sound that’s coming from between your legs.

In your drowsy, sleepy state, you can do nothing but pant at the foreign feeling overtaking your senses. “M-Morax, what...”

Your mind blares in alarm when you feel his fingers curl inside you.

But the alarm is replaced by the sheer, mind numbing pleasure that follows. You involuntarily let out a keen mewl that echoes around your chambers.

Something hard presses against your thigh.

You feel him thrust his fingers in and out of you at a brutal pace that has your head spinning and eyes crossing while Morax leans above you and licks his lips at the sight of you slowly becoming undone.

“M-Morax, I don’t want to... this is... wrong—” His thumb reaches up to rub circles on your neglected clit.

“Hm? But you’re doing so well. Doesn’t it feel good?” He soaks in the sound of your cries. Not stopping the pace of his fingers even when you’re begging with drool coming out of your lips.

“I don’t—please, please, wait—” He silences you by covering your lips with his and swallowing the protest that dies once he bullies his tongue into your mouth.

By the gods, you taste as heavenly as he’s always thought.

His hips begin rutting against the softness of your thigh, his tip leaking precum and smearing it across your skin. And with all the debauchery that a god can posses, he conjures the image of you covered in his seed. Thick, white spurts of his seed dripping down your face and slipping between the valley of your breasts. And he wants it so bad he is willing to burn the world for it.

“Morax,” you cry out, legs shaking and clenching around his fingers as your impeding climax approaches.

He shudders at his name being called out in such a wanton tone, grinding his erection harder against your soft thigh. Suckling at the exposed skin of your neck to mark what is his.

“F-Feels s’ good, I-I’m sorry... I’m sorry...” you mutter intelligibly, fingers clenching the sheets and nails almost tearing through the fabric. You legs start spasming violently, heart racing and breath hitching at the coiling tension threatening to release in your belly.

He watches you with rapt eyes and savors the lewd sounds of your cunt welcoming his thick fingers, your slick running down his wrists that he will make sure to lick clean after.

“L-Lord—” His cock twitches as he imagines you calling out to him with such reverence that was once reserved for a certain god. “Lord Barbatos!”

The coil snaps.

Your back arches, letting out a loud cry as tears spill down your cheeks.

Morax feels his smile turn to stone. A twisted feeling creeping up on him, the kind that makes his want to destroy and be the god of war he was once called millennia ago.

Lord Barbatos. He nearly scoffs. What does that drunkard have that he does not? He will have to make you see sense, but not now, not with this ugly emotion clawing at his chest and threatening to break loose.

He leaves you panting on the bed to reign in his bubbling anger, not confident in his ability to control himself at the state he’s in now.

As your high begins to die down, you nearly become sick with the realization that you had enjoyed coupling with someone who wasn’t your god.

✧

You leave before the sun rises.

Ei welcomes you with a surprised but pleased smile—until she catches sight of your harried state and the bruises beginning to form on your neck and across your collarbones.

“Who did this?” Her voice could be likened to a storm gathering on the horizon. Inescapable and deadly.

You collapse into her arms in relief.

✧

You were hesitant to tell her, but she is insistent, and so you cave.

The only thing that stopped her from marching into Liyue’s borders and declaring the second coming of the archon war was you.

She is gentle with you, comforting you with her embrace and letting you do as you pleased.

(And if she takes advantage of your harried emotions by indulging herself to your addicting scent and running her hands over your velvety skin, well, there is no one there to disapprove of her actions. Much less a certain alcoholic god to snatch you away from her grasp.)

Inside, she is seething. Angry and bitter that Morax got to have a taste of you before she did. To mark your skin with bruises and hear your debauched moans as she pleasured you herself. There shall be no interruption within the halls of Tenshukaku, only you and her and the sounds you will make once she gathers the courage to take you for herself.

“You are always so good to me, Ei.”

Perhaps that time will come soon. Ei would like to cover the unseemly bruises made by Morax on the expanse of your flesh with marks of her own.

✧

She’s more handsy than usual. It’s the first thing you note after laying down the bed beside her and immediately being smothered into her chest.

You feel her hands running down your back, the thin robe she insisted you wear every night leaving nothing to imagination. Her touch leaves a trail of goosebumps in their wake, leaving you shivering but not from the cold.

Ei buries her nose into your hair and inhales like it’s the last time she’ll get to smell your scent — perhaps it is. After what she plans to do tonight, you might just denounce her name as you did Morax’s.

It starts small. Lips trailing over your hairline and fingers ghosting over every inch of exposed skin, light as a feather. You want to say that this is merely her being touch-starved as she always is, but there is something in the air, something heated and coiling with unmistakable tension.

Her hand lands on the soft flesh of your rear.

You pull away from her, hands on her shoulders to keep her at bay.

“Ei, what are you—” She cuts you off with a searing kiss.

Your lips taste as divine as she always imagined them to be.

Her hands are quick to untie the knot of your robe, pulling them away in one swift motion and leaving you naked for her to see.

You flinch away from her kiss when cool air brushes over your nipples. Heat making its way to your face once you realize the state of your undress.

Ei grabs your chin and forces you to look into her vivid purple eyes.

And you finally see what you have been resolutely ignoring these past few months.

There is an unmistakable want in her dilated pupils, gaze lidded with lust and the corners of her eyes crinkled with something you couldn’t hope to discern (is it desire, possessiveness, or—love?)

Her lips find their way to your collarbones, nipping at your skin and teeth biting just hard enough to mark but not draw blood. Your hands land on her shoulders, not knowing whether you should push her away or pull her close.

Your breath hitches when her mouth latches on your nipple, her hand moving downwards to a place you know should be reserved for your god only but—

A whine leaves your lips when her fingers begin to rub circles on your clit. Her pace begins to build up, tearing gasps and moans from your throat as she eases you to a painfully quick climax.

Your toes begin to curl against the sheets, hips bucking up to gather more stimulation. Your mouth opens in preparation for a cry—

But then she pulls away.

You hadn’t realized you’d been crying until you look down at her and see only a blur.

“Please, Ei, please I—”

You wail when her tongue lands on your slick folds, lapping at them and grinding the tip of her nose at your abused clit.

She inhales, long and slow, and nearly comes undone from your scent alone. Her hands grab your thighs to pull them further apart, burying her face deeper in your cunt, tongue making obscene noises as she continues to sloppily lap at your slit.

“Feels s’ good... Ei, please... please, I want—” Your pleas turn into incoherent babbles when her tongue begins to fuck into you.

Your slick smears across her face, dripping down her chin and into the wet spot that’s gathering on the bed. Ei will have it remain unwashed for the rest of eternity.

Your hands find purchase in her hair, tangling your fingers in the thin strands and pushing her even closer to your cunt. Loud, shaky breaths escape your lips, thighs closing around her head as the heat in your abdomen begins to build to a crescendo.

Ei feels your thighs shake, so she moves her tongue to your clit and starts suckling at it. One long, slender finger enters you with a wet squelch that she’ll repeat in her head for centuries to come.

You come undone on her face, hot spurts of liquid squirting out of you, and Ei is all too happy to run her tongue over the mess you’ve made and swallow your release.

Silence reigns save for the crude sounds of her lips on your folds.

As you sit in the wake of your high, you cannot even bear to think of your god.

✧

You had thought Morax would come for you as soon as he realized you left. A part of you hopes he had, if only so you can finally sort out the confounding feelings that swirl in your chest, threatening to drown you with their sheer intensity.

Ei busies herself with her nation, working on a project she has yet to tell you about.

“I will reveal it to you at a later date,” is always her reply whenever you broach the topic.

It leaves you feeling a sort of fondness, watching her work in a way she had never been able to when she was still a kagemusha.

On the fourth month after you left Liyue, she presents a puppet to you.

“This is Kuni.”

You stare down at the young looking boy who greatly resembles the former Electro Archon, from the soft swell of his cheek to the smile he greets you with. But there is also a hint of you in the slope of his nose and the shape of his lips.

And you wonder, just for a moment, if she had made him with something else in mind other than the keeper of the gnosis.

That night, in the middle of languid kisses and groping hands, you playfully ask her if this means the two of you are parents now.

She splutters and turns red in the face, but she never denies your question.

✧

With Morax comes the shaking of the earth and Tenshukaku in a frenzy as soldiers frantically begin arming themselves at the threat of the Geo Archon himself.

Thunder rolls across the clouds, threatening to bring unforgiving storms and strike anyone who dares to defy it.

Beelzebub meets him halfway across Inazuma City, a crash of thunder against rock that could be heard even from Seirai Island.

You are left in Tenshukaku with the puppet who has never called you his mother but looks at you like you are. He cries when he sees tall stone spires rising to the sky and flashes of lightning that bring golden pillars to the ground.

You hold him close and press a comforting kiss to the top of his head, this boy who has your lips and your nose and perhaps the crinkle in your eyes when you smile.

✧

It takes two days and two nights for the earth to settle and the skies to clear.

Ei returns with Morax, a compromise between them.

You don’t disapprove of it.

✧

You feel your insides get split apart as Morax sinks into your heat.

His cock is the same girth as two arms and has scales that only a dragon could possess. By the time he buries his whole length inside you, you’re nothing but a drooling, crying mess.

Ei kisses your temple from where she has you on her lap, legs twined with yours to keep them apart and two fingers spreading your folds to let Morax stretch you open.

“You’re doing so well taking me in,” he chuckles when he sees your fucked out state, brushing a hand over your face and wiping away the sweat that had gathered.

He starts pulling out, feeling your walls clench down on him and nearly coming undone at the simple action. Ei toys with your breasts, tweaking your nipples between her fingers as she covers your neck with sloppy, wet kisses.

Morax slams his hips against your so suddenly, it leaves you crying out in both pain and pleasure as the tip of his cock presses against your cervix. He sets a furious pace as he thrusts into you, the ridges of his draconic cock sliding against your clit with every snap of skin against skin that echoes in the room.

“My Lord...” You feel him still. Between the haze of pleasure in your mind and the tight knot building in your stomach, you don’t notice this. “Lord Morax, please—”

A deep, guttural groan reverberates from his throat. With one, quick thrust, he slams himself balls-deep into your cunt and enjoys the way you sob as he keeps hitting the entrance to your womb, leaving you heady and unable to form a single coherent thought.

You register the feeling of a hand snaking down your breasts into the spot between your legs.

Ei rubs circles into your clit, her fingers setting a fast pace that has you seeing stars and babbling wordless pleas. “S’ good, I wanna... Ei—Morax—please, more please, don’ wanna stop—”

He grabs your thighs in a bruising grip and starts pounding into you at a merciless pace that has you crying and drooling, tongue lolling out as you failed to decide whether it’s pleasure or pain that’s making your toes curl and back arch in ways you never would have thought was possible.

A mouth latches on to that sensitive spot beneath your jaw and sucks, leaving you gasping and legs twitching as the knot in your belly tightens until it threatens to unravel before you. Ei licks at the bruise beginning to form on your skin and watches the way your face contorts as you approach your release.

“‘m so close... so close—”

Her fingers press hard against your clit just as Morax hits that spot in you that has you convulsing and creaming around his cock, mouth open in a silent scream and tears running freely down your face.

With a grunt and a choked off gasp, he cums inside you, stuffing you full to the brim, cum leaking out your hole even when he hasn’t finished emptying himself in you.

He pulls out after a few quick thrusts that has you whining from overstimulation and pleasure. As soon as his cock is slips out, his thick, white seed pours out your hole. You clench down on nothing, feeling empty at the absence of him inside you.

Ei scoops his cum into her fingers and pushes them back inside you, a lewd squelching sound reverberating in the room as she fucks his cum back into you with her fingers.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, high pitches pleas for them to stop going unheard. Soon, your legs begin quivering as your second release draws near. Morax’s cum mixed with yours drip down the slit of your ass and into the sheets below, making an utter mess.

It comes quick and just as mind-breaking as before. Harsh puffs of breath escape your lips, a gasp that turns into a sob when Ei shoves her fingers knuckles-deep and curls.

Your walls clench down and clamp violently around her fingers in a vice as your climax reaches its limit.

You’re nothing but a drooling mess, head spinning and eyes lidded and blurry with tears, a fog over your mind after experiencing two consecutive orgasms.

In a daze, you faintly register hands cradling you close and lips brushing against your temple, murmured words of praise and adoration spoken to your skin.

You fall asleep between two bodies, covered in sweat and release but in the most content state you’ve ever felt in thousands of years.

✧

Five hundred years later, Venti appears before you and starts whining about you replacing him with Ei and Zhongli.

You laugh and embrace your dearly missed god, telling him that he still holds a special place in your heart and that you’ll always be his Priestess.

5 sundays of kinktober

word count — 4.4k

taglist — @pardofeliscalico @monicahar @monikidk @sunhareskies @thearcanafan @kaeyats @luvrsthrist @xinii @w9vyy @ineedavirtualboyfriend @holynix @karasuneo @rei-vi @shuvvs @miss-fantazmagoria @bunnlatte @shironakuronatasa @leleforpresident @scaranaris-lil-niko

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v3ry-cherry · 6 months

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sometimes when you're present in wriothesley office after hours and clearly in a good mood, laughing, joking around and teasing each other, you hear the familiar click right next to you, when he stops pacing back and forth and in a split second is standing right behind you. then you know you just got stuck with a pair of his own handcuffs to the closest object you were standing next to. the very next thing he did every time was brushing your hair from the nape of your neck to cover them with a wave of hot steam from his mouth and placing a tender kiss on the spot.

'you know this isn't really necessary' you point to his accessory, turning your head slightly so that the corner of your eye catches your husband sight and he may notice a little smirk drawn on your face. 'i'm not going anywhere, your grace'

‘but why would you pretend that you don't enjoy it this way?' he asks just as he comes closer and runs his hand down from the hip to the inside of your thigh.

#wriothesley #wriothesley hcs #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley x you #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact wriothesley #genshin x you #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin kinktober #genshin impact kintober

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sh1-n0bu · 7 months

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𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 3: toys with xiao from genshin impact

warnings: usage of toys, dacryphillia, sensitive xiao, overstimulation, praise and degrading, multiple orgasm

notes: aiyaaaaa someone send me horni ideas to turn into my kinktober ones or ones that i could brainrot and eventually turn into a fic one

xiao has always put his duties as a yaksha beforehand everything else. even his own needs and desires that rarely tend to show in the form of a small, barely noticeable bulge forming in his pants.

however, that problem had became more frequent lately and it’s all because of you, his one hell of a tease lover.

xiao had never thought of himself to ever be able to become turned on or horny as you put it. or even count himself as one to frequently palm his hardened cock through his pants where a small wet patch was growing slowly but steadily as he remembers how you fucked him so good the night before. or just recalling the words you muttered to him were enough to make his small cock stand up again as if begging for you.

the yaksha had also never thought of himself as the person to fall in love with an absolute pervert.

“darling~ guess what i bought today from that store?!”

ah yes. speak of the devil and they shall appear. never would have xiao thought of calling his lover the devil yet here you were, proudly holding up a bag of another sexual toys you’ve wanted to try on your inexperienced lover. you weren’t that much experienced either but you just loved to see the cruel and calculated yaksha turn into a common brothel whore.

two bullet vibrators taped to his hardened nipples, already on and turned to the lowest degree and yet he can already feel his chest feeling heavy as if about to lactate. xiao never tried such sexual activities before, he’s not used to such feelings or desires!

clenching his teeth again, xiao comes over the wand vibrator held over the drooling slit of his cock again for the nth time that night. gods, he felt so overstimulated. there were tears running down his cheeks, legs struggling to stay open the more you coo soft words of comfort and degrading nicknames as your hand twirls the vibrator around his cockhead, stimulating him more and more.

“guuhnn—! [na-name]!! slow—! unngya♡︎! slower!” the little yaksha in your hold arms squeals loudly like a girl, voice coming out all high-pitched and embarrassed. he said he wants the vibrator’s setting to be on the lower, but any lower and it would just turn off. and when you do comply to his wishes and turn it off, the immortal would keen loudly and buck his hips in your grasp with a fussy whine.

how unpredictable and… you would daresay, annoying.

“xiao-xiao… you need to be a good slut for me and keep it together! you can take a few more rounds. you’ve done it before” he can briefly hear your words in his mush of a brain. struggling to comprehend your words but when he does, he ends up cumming all over the vibrator again with a loud shrill moan.

“o-oohmp! okay!! okay♡︎ okayhhh—! i’ll… i’ll be a good slu-ungh! ungh! gcckk♡︎♡︎!!” nodding eagerly with a dumb slurred speech, xiao agrees to keep up with your sexual torture for longer.

he can do it. xiao can be your good slut. yours and no one else’s. he’s done it before, he had taken your many hours of vibrator torture before, he can do it now too!

by now, the yaksha had forgotten about everything except the feeling of the vibrators buzzing away on his sensitive places. duties of cleansing the land, hunting down remnants of old gods, his usually stoic nature. all of it were thrown out the window the moment the two small vibrators were taped to his chest, buzzing away and stimulating him.

poor xiao, unable to think. just moaning and squealing in delight as he comes over and over again. so many times to the point that now he was starting to shoot blanks on your hand.

such a sweet thing. not knowing that your little perverted games are only beginning.

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ddollipop · 7 months

Text

THINK I WANNA FEEL LOVE. . . ! — ( THOMA. )

#. synopsis! — when ayato allows visiting nobles from other nations to stay at the kamisato estate, thoma finds himself very interested in one young woman in particular .

#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , oral sex , cunnilingus , cum swallowing , multiple positions , vaginal fingering , vaginal sex , thoma's a pervert , panty sniffing , caught masturbating , virginity , explicit first time sex , frequent usage of endearment terms (baby/angel) , vanilla sex , praise , thoma is really sweet .

#. word count! — 4.2k .

#. a/n! — happy kinktober, sluts ! let's see how many times i post this year, trying to break my previous year's record of three lmao (with one being three days late smh) .

If you ask about Thoma throughout Inazuma, you’ll likely get similar replies. They’ll comment on his willingness to help others, to be of service to those in need. Many will commonly note that he’s a hard worker, a diligent young man who loathes leaving any task incomplete. You might even hear that he’s a prime candidate for many young women in terms of romantic interest, —that he’s easy on the eyes and gentlemanly to boot. Such praise from not only the general public, but even the likes of Kamisato Ayato and Ayaka themselves, left you truly believing that you were in good hands with him.

Which. . . Is still accurate, you suppose; just not in the way you expected.

Coming from a sizable line of nobility, you were cordially invited to attend a week-long summit in Inazuma to discuss international relations between all the nations. Though it wasn’t quite your area of expertise, you readily accepted the offer and studied dutifully in order to make a positive impression. The Yashiro Commissioner was also kind enough to allow guests of high importance (of which you were apparently one) to board in the Kamisato estate for the duration of your stay.

Thus, their dearest housekeeper became yours for the week; in more ways than one. Just as the rumors had declared, —Thoma was warm, kind, and none too unattractive. He helped you carry your bags to the room you’d be staying in and made it clear that if you needed anything at all, you could come to him for help. You thanked him, but didn’t really expect to take him up on that. After all, you were quite used to taking care of most things yourself, and that background of independence and task-juggling has all but prepared you for the very worst.

Thoma was an unexpected storm though; —one you hadn’t a clue how to weather.

The meeting for the third day was pushed back a few hours due to a holdup of cargo ships blocking the entrance to Inazuma. Many of the needed officials were busy trying to sort through the mess of it all, and others were aboard the ships stuck in the harbor, unable to leave until the others had cleared off. When word of the delay reached you, you were the first one out the door, well on your way back to the Kamisato estate. The two prior gatherings had taken a lot out of you, and while it was clear that your studying had served you more than well, the social aspect was quite draining. Moreover, a few extra hours of rest before diving into the next one was hardly a sour idea.

It seemed that everyone else was using their time differently. You were met with a sea of empty rooms, not a single soul in sight as you made your way down the long hall. Halfway to your temporary space, however, you caught wind of soft, muffled sounds coming from your room through the ever-so-slightly cracked sliding door. Your footsteps became much lighter as you approached, peeking in through the small gap to see what was going on.

Your jaw dropped and you were hardly able to contain the gasp that nearly erupted from the back of your throat. Thoma was in your room, clothed back pressed against the wall, your worn panties from the day before stuffed against his face. You could hear him taking long, deep breaths, savoring the scent of your day-old musk. His half-hard cock rested in his hand, offering slow strokes to himself as he reveled in the aroma of your used, unwashed underwear.

Reflexively, you felt prickles of disgust stab at your innocent heart. Having been raised a noble, you were well beyond sheltered in many ways, and this was the first time you’d ever seen something so phallic in person. But you couldn’t deny the warmth spreading along your core, nor the way your pussy clenched ever so slightly at the sight of it all. Thoma was fairly long and certainly not lacking in girth. His lithe fingers encircled himself, sliding along his member with exactly the kind of precision you would expect from an experienced housekeeper.

In your haze of confusion, you let instinct take over, allowing your hand to travel between your thighs. Through your layered dress (proper attire for the important meeting you were supposed to be attending) you rubbed little circles against yourself, getting little jolts of friction that managed to hit just right in spite of the material in your way. Thoma kept his eyes closed, likely to focus his senses on the panties just a few strokes away from being stuffed in his jowls.

You watched from the hall as he stroked himself to the thin garment, thumb grazing the ever-reddening tip of his cock.

“Fuck, y/n.”

The sound of your name falling from his lips leaves your hand freezing in place, breath hitching in your throat as if you were the “bad guy” in this situation. You certainly weren’t the one doing the most wrong here, but the thought of Thoma (or anyone else, for that matter) catching you in such a shameful position. . . It was utterly humiliating.

With his eyes still closed, hand still pumping along his shaft in slow, deliberate flicks, you came to the conclusion that he hadn’t seen you and was simply. . . Fantasizing?

Still feeling largely conflicted, your hand returned to your side and you were set on just walking away and pretending that this had never happened. You figured it was the best course of action to avoid any confrontation, leave things as they had been, and return home soon enough. That is, until one wrong move left a creaky board just outside the sliding door ringing out, to which Thoma’s eyes abruptly shot open in panic. He could see your wide eyes and the soft lavender color of the dress you’d been donning as he saw you out not even two hours prior through the slim crack in the door.

“My Lady, I—” he cut himself off, your panties falling ungracefully from his hand to the floor at his feet.

Thoma stuffed his hardened cock into his pants, a harsh blush present on his cheeks as he sought to straighten his back and apologize for defiling your space.

“I-I’m sorry,” you said reflexively, backing away from the door, “I didn’t mean to watch, I just—”

The words die in your throat. You don’t know how to finish that sentence, and you fear anything you could have uttered would have just made the situation that much more contentious.

He pauses, his chest still heaving a bit. Shame crackles in his gut, but he couldn’t help but to take particular interest in the latter half of your apology. The same hand he’d been jacking himself off with reaches out, pulling the door further off to the side.

“You. . . Were watching?” Thoma asks, a small glint of hope flashing through his shamrock eyes.

Your heart hammers now, pounding against your chest like a drum. Though there’s distance between yourself and him, you wonder if he can hear it from where he stands.

“Not long,” you attempt to assure him, not quite catching the subtle implications he was throwing your way. “I just couldn’t help myself.”

“You understand, then,” his tone lowers as he reaches out to take your wrist into his grip, —the same grip that held your panties to his face mere moments prior. “You understand that. . . That sometimes it’s just too easy to come undone.”

“I. . .” you hesitate, but finish anyway: “I suppose I do.”

“Come a little closer,” he beckons, giving your arm a soft pull toward him.

You’ve no reason to really be distrustful of him, so you take a few tentative steps forward, all but melting into his embrace. Now standing in the guest room, Thoma slides the door shut (fully, this time) before putting all of his attention on you.

“You’re so beautiful,” he tells you, cupping your heated cheek in his warm hand. “Since I first saw you, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”

Thoma pushes your hair back and away from your neck, baring it for his access, leaning in closer to whisper in your ear.

“Can I kiss you?”

Soft tufts of heated air ghost against your skin. A shaky breath passes your lips. You’re nervous, but Thoma. . . He’s been nothing but kind to you, and after what you just saw of him, it’s hard to deny that you’re attracted. All at once, he feels like some semblance of your home whilst you’re so far away, yet he reminds you just as equally of unexplored lands that you’ve never set foot on. He’s tantalizing.

You nod.

His kiss is enough to steal the air from your lungs, starting off slow and deliberate. The little noises you make stir the lustful beast that creeps just beneath his charming exterior. His lips are soft and maybe even delicate as they gradually become hungrier, finally drawing down your chin and sliding along your open jaw. The gentle hand on your cheek takes its place on your hip now as his mouth explores your neck. Quickly enough, you melt into him, —muscles loosening as you allow him to have his way.

"Here," he whispers, quickly leading you over to the futon mattress that sits on the floor.

Thoma's nimble fingers travel around your back, pulling at certain ribbons here and there to loosen the waist of your dress. As it comes undone, the sleeves begin to slump off your shoulders, and he cranes his neck down to pepper some more kisses along the newly bared skin.

"If it's too much, just say so," he notes, all the while helping you slip out of your formal attire.

As expected of someone in his line of work, he's meticulous about not damaging the garment. No tearing, no pulling, no unnecessary theatrics, —just undressing you like a gentleman before setting your clothes aside. He even helped to maintain your balance as you stepped out of it.

"Lay back," he prompts, quickly adding, "—make yourself comfortable."

You do, resting your head atop one of the newly fluffed pillows while Thoma strips himself down to his tight-fitting boxers. It's hard not to stare at the prominent outline of his bulge, and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as if to sober yourself up, forcing your gaze back up to meet his eyes sheepishly. If he noticed the hunger, he didn’t mention it, but you’re sure he can feel the static in the air between him and yourself as it snaps and crackles like a roaring fire.

He kneels at your feet, each of you clad only in undergarments. His hands rest against your knees, then slide down the tops of your thighs in tandem. When he extends forward, you spread them, allowing him to slit himself in the open space.

"You're stunning," he compliments, "I haven't been able to stop staring at you since I first saw you. Everything about you is so gorgeous, —it makes it so hard to control myself around you."

Thoma lays it on thick enough to drown in. Though your breathing hitches a bit in your throat, his words fill you with enough confidence to raise yourself off the futon and slink your arms around his neck. The kiss that follows is deep, accompanied by his hands fondling your chest through the fabric of your bra. Each of you is quick to decide the material is an annoyance for the moment, and it's gone not long after. He loves the way your sensitive nipples perk up at the first touch of open air, —then further relishes in the little gasp you let out as he takes one into his mouth, tongue flicking it over. He laps at it until he tires, leaving a sheen of his spit in his wake, before moving over to the other and repeating the process once more. It's the first time any man has ever touched you like this, and you think to yourself that you're glad it's someone so considerate and thorough such as Thoma.

He continues to mumble little words of praise as he kisses down your sternum, —gorgeous, once, beautiful, twice, stunning, thrice. His tongue lolls out around your naval, leaving a thin trail of saliva behind until his mouth rests at the top of your panties. Though he hooks two fingers, one on either side, just below the lacy fabric, he doesn't pull just yet. Instead, he rests the flat of his tongue against your panties, letting his spit seep into the material. You can feel the warmth of his mouth through the fabric, and it's driving you wild. He pulls ever so slightly at the garment, but stops just short of pulling it off, instead lapping at your lips through the material in long, deliberate strokes.

"Ah, Thoma," you vocalize, left hand coming up to softly rest over your mouth.

He pauses for a moment to let you know how much he likes it when you say his name like that. You don’t catch the full sentence through the newfound adrenaline rush, but it’s something about how pretty his name sounds when it comes from you.

Thoma takes a hand from your thigh and presses the tip of his middle finger against the wet stripe along your panties, a mixture of his spit and your arousal, rubbing at the slickness. Your mind is swimming. This is all so new, and it feels distinctly different to the times you’ve sat in your bedroom swirling your fingers around on your clit, leaking onto pristine sheets in the late hours of the night.

Another pause, but this time he decides to tug at your underwear, encouraging you to lift your hips so he can do away with them for the time being. You’re almost embarrassed by how quickly you react, but it’s hard to be ashamed of anything when Thoma seems so delighted to just be there between your legs. He tosses the last of your clothing to the side, kissing the top of your foot, then up your calf, along your inner thighs, and finally he lets his tongue fall past his lips to split yours apart.

It’s good enough to make your toes curl on instinct, the way he laps like a thirsty animal quenching himself with the folds of your pussy. You gasp at the feeling, swallowing a full moan. He drinks you in like nectar and it’s enough to make you dizzy.

You feel one of his fingers prod inside you, just barely, pausing to give you time to tell him to stop if that’s what you really want. —It’s not, so after a few moments, he lays his tongue flat against your clit and lets one of his long, slim fingers sink inside you until the base of his hand presses against you as well.

“Feel good, baby?” He inquires, glancing up at you from between your thighs.

“Yeah,” you answer breathily, moving the hand over your mouth down to your breast, clutching at the flesh and feeling his leftover saliva squelch against your skin. “Feels good.”

He hums in acknowledgement, and you feel the vibration in your core. A whine escapes you when he pushes another finger inside just as tenderly as before, letting you adjust before sinking all the way to the palm. He holds your hip a little roughly when he begins pumping his digits in and out, starting off slower to avoid any discomfort on your part.

“You’re so pretty,” he compliments. “It’s all I’ve thought about since you arrived. . . How stunning you are, how good you must taste. . .”

Under any other circumstances, you’d have been burning up from the sheer weight of his praise alone, but as things stand, you fear it’s nigh impossible to be any hotter than you already are in this moment. Your brain isn’t working fast enough to muster up a reply, so you resign yourself to whining at his touch, hoping that will speak for you.

And does it ever. Thoma can practically feel himself throbbing at the noises you’re making. He loves every little sound, relishes in the bliss of having you clench around his fingers, buried so deep in your snatch that his fingers are drowning in your heat.

He watches carefully as your hands clutch at the fabric of the futon in the guest room, feeling your thighs quivery around his body.

“Close?” He inquires.

He doesn’t really get a response, per say, but your back arches a little, pressing yourself harder into his fingers, and that says just about all he needs to know. His tongue returns to your clit, lapping at it again, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you’re left cumming on his fingers and against his mouth. He slows down as you sink your teeth into your own wrist, huffing through the orgasm.

There’s an empty sort of feeling by the time he pulls his digits out, sitting more upright to wipe the mixture of his spit and your arousal from his lips with his forearm. His mind is screaming by now, all things he wants to say, but isn’t sure how to put into words. You’re so stunning like this, that sheen of pure bliss emanating from every pour, —that starry-eyed look in your stare. He loves the way you’ve retained a little sense of humility from it all, but not enough to cover yourself up. He loves the way your wrist keeps the bitemarks of your teeth like a trophy when you let it fall away from your mouth.

The thought of asking you to suck him off crosses his mind, but the moment he looks between your thighs and sees the pretty wetness there, he decides against it.

“C’mere, angel,” he mumbles, encouraging you to sit up and gain your bearings in his arms.

You do, and he’s so gentle in the way he holds you, like he thinks you’re made of something fragile enough to break apart at a moment’s notice. He presses a few off-handed kisses to your temple, then grabs your bitten wrist and kisses there too, as if trying to soothe the dull ache you’d inflicted upon yourself.

You’re not sure what to say, so you say nothing, but Thoma doesn’t seem to mind the silence. He fills it with little gestures of affection, —brushing hair from your eyes, presses soft kisses to your forehead and your lips.

“First time?” He inquires, just guessing from your initial shock and the way it all seemed so novel to you. (Plus your noble status, as those from high-class bloodlines were known for their tendency to keep their children quite sheltered.)

You nod in reply, seeming sheepish about it, but he gives you a reassuring smile.

“I’m honored,” he says, and you get the sense that he really means it.

“We don’t have to do anything else,” he adds. “Please don’t feel pressured.”

It’s then that you give the possibilities some real, clear, rational thought. When you return home in just a few day’s time, it’s unlikely you’ll have an opportunity like this again for quite some time. Moreover, there’s something so endearing about Thoma, especially like this, that has you itching for more. So you swallow, gathering the courage to crane your neck up and kiss him. He seems a little startled by the sudden boldness, but kisses back just as readily, placing a hand on the back of your head.

“I want to,” you tell him, whispering the words against his lips.

And who is he to deny you what you want?

He tugs his boxers off then moves to lie back, thinking it best to let you start the pace. He helps you straddle him, a knee on either side, your cunt hovering just above his length. There’s a jolt of something close to electricity through your veins as the head of his cock brushes against your clit, and you take a sharp breath in. It feels really vulnerable, this position, Thoma’s hands on your hips, holding you steady as his eyes roam over every inch of you that’s on display for him. You know he’s not judging, but it’s new, and you avoid his gaze on purpose as you do your best to line him up efficiently between your thighs.

He bites his lip to stop himself from smiling, not wanting to be mistaken for laughing at you in such an unguarded position. Thoma just thinks you’re cute, the way your hands tremble a little as you work to get him inside. Just the tip, and you gasp a little, so he releases the lip between his teeth and tightens the grasp on your body.

“Easy,” he murmurs, “take your time, baby.”

“Sorry,” you utter like a reflex, though you’re not even sure what you’re even apologizing for in the first place.

You sink down a little further, feeling more of him enter, and it makes you gasp. With your hands on his chest, he can feel the way your arms are starting to shake, so he coaxes you forward and wraps his arms around your back.

“Don’t say sorry,” he mumbles, holding you securly. “Take it slow, there’s no rush.”

It’s several moments before you move again, taking him in until he bottoms out, and you gasp again, this time against the skin of his neck. It doesn’t hurt so much as it’s just new and slightly uncomfortable at first go, a little too full in comparison to everything else you’ve ever had. He lets you adjust, drawing shapes along your bare shoulders, whispering compliments and encouragement.

“That’s it, baby,” he says softly, “just like that.”

There’s a little seed of pride that sprouts the moment you hear his breathing hitch in his throat. It tells you that you’re doing something right here at the very least, and you let his hands guide your movements, starting off slower before speeding up slightly and feeling his fingers dig into the plush skin of your ass. You swallow down a few moans, letting one of your hands travel to his head, tugging at his hair.

“That’s it,” he drawls, “that’s my girl, just like that, —fuck.”

It’s almost startling to hear that word fall from Thoma’s lips again, but you’re a little too blissed out to be surprised. Instead, you give up on the idea of choking back your moans and let them spill past your lips, —breath ghosting against his neck where you’ve buried your face in the crook. He tests the waters, jolting up to meet your riding, making your grip on his strawberry blond strands tighten in the process.

“Thoma,” you choke out desperately, causing a grin to etch its way onto his pretty face, “—please.”

He’s not sure how he knew what that please really meant, but he just did. Thus he switches the position at your discretion and takes his place between his legs again, lining the tip of his cock up just right, then letting it dip inside. Somehow, it feels better in this position than it did in the previous one, and he watches with ample interest as you take your bottom lip between your teeth nearly roughly enough to draw blood as your eyes roll back a ways.

There’s something alluring about the way he moans above you, like he’s getting drunk on this feeling, on this time he’s spending buried deeply enough inside you to feel your walls pulling him in as if every part of you is as desperate for him as he is for you. It feels good to be wanted, he realizes, and even better to be wanted by you.

He slides in and out, eventually establishing a pace that feels good for the both of you, —nothing rough, but not quite soft, either. It’s somewhere in the middle, with just enough enticement to push your novice body to new heights without overwhelming your sensibilities. Through it all, he’s as gentlemanly as everyone told you he was, watching your movements like a hawk, attentive of your every whimper.

When he goes deeper and gets a little sloppy, you’re far enough along for it to not make much of a difference. He’s nearing the edge of a precipice when the knot in your gut comes undone, and you cum on his cock, clenching down on him. He spares a few more thrusts in before slipping himself out and leaning back to jack himself off to a finish.

Before he can do so by himself, you’ve moved through the haze of your orgasm to wrap your lips around him. You’re not quite sure what came over you, but in the moment, it felt so right that you couldn’t back down by the time he was stuffed down your throat. He really didn’t mean to be so rough with you, but he was so close to the high he’d been desperately searching for in your cunt that your mouth served as a pristine replacement.

“P-Pull off a bit, baby,” he says quickly, —having enough restraint to avoid pumping a load directly down your gullet.

You pull away, but keep the tip in your mouth, feeling him twitch against your tongue. The taste of his cum is a little bitter, but it’s warm, and you stay attached to him while he catches his breath. The hand on your head falls away, and he reaches for the hankerchief he always carries in his pocket to give you something to spit into.

His face falls a little when he goes to hand it to you and watches you swallow instead.

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