• Breeding Kink •

Persuasion

Summary: Aemond protects those he cares about ruthlessly. You are no exception. So he will have the truth, or someone’s head. Maybe both.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW. Overprotective Aemond. Edging. Orgasm denial. Oral sex. Breeding kink (implied)

Word count: 2k

“Do not tell Prince Ameond.”

“Do not worry, my lady. My lips are sealed,” Grand Maester Mellos bowed lightly, gathering his ointments and bandages.

“Do not tell Prince Aemond what?”

By the door frame stood Prince Aemond Targaryen, arms crossed, and a dangerously calm look on his face.

Maester Mellos knew better, and Aemond’s seemingly composed demeanor was not to be trifled with.

The old man froze in place, glaring at the young prince as if he’d suddenly grown a third arm.

Clearing his throat, he greeted with a bow. “Prince Aemond… welcome back.”

He turned his eye to you. “I’m waiting.”

You huffed in annoyance, knowing far too well that he would turn something trivial into an unnecessary ordeal.

Because as far as Aemond Targaryen was concerned, your safety was paramount, and he would not have it any other way.

“Thank you, Maester Mellos,” you smiled warmly, trying to ease his nerves.

He merely hurried to make his way out, but Aemond barred the door, eyeing the man in front of him with a deadly stare.

“Aemond,” you called out, shifting to sit on your bed.

The Targaryen prince clicked his tongue, eventually stepping to the side. “Hmm.”

The poor old man was now visibly shaking, and nearly made a run for it once the pathway was made clear.

“That was uncalled for,” you half-scolded.

The door shut behind him, and he came to take a sit by your side, his face twisted into a serious expression. “What do you not want me to know, then.”

But before you could reply, his eye landed on your hands and you could swear you saw a hint of rage crossing his face.

“Who did this to you?” Poison coated his low voice, sending shivers across your spine.

He took your bruised hands in his, closely inspecting the damage to your knuckles.

It looked far worse than it felt. “I was sparring with Ser Criston. Just for fun,” you revealed, meeting his eye. “It was nothing much. This will heal soon.”

“He did this to you?” he sounded uncharacteristically… calm.

“No.”

Aemond’s tender fingers wrapped around your wrists, anger slipping through the cracks. “Then who?”

It would be much easier to give into the pressure, but you knew fully well that if you were to reveal who had been on the receiving hand of your fist, he’d simply storm out, not caring that the short amount of time you had to spend with with would be ruined.

“Let's forget about this for tonight,” you said, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. “I've missed you so much.”

Aemond rose to his feet, arching an eyebrow. “Should I go ask Maester Mellos, then? I’m sure he’d be much willing to talk.”

Rolling your eyes, you held him in place by tugging at his leather coat.

“Leave the poor man alone and fuck me instead.”

You pulled him towards you by his pants, slightly wincing as pain shot through your bruised hand.

“Tell me who it was.”

Deciding to ignore him, you parted you legs to accommodate him, resting your chin on his stomach. “Prince Aemond… I need you,” you pouted.

The hold you had on the young prince was such that had Queen Alicent fear that it might break her beloved son.

And nothing pleased you more than knowing you could bend him to your will with just the right amount of persuasion.

It didn't take long before he started panting lightly as you began caressing his crotch through the fabric, enjoying your touch and how you so skillfully and rapidly had his cock harden.

His eye fluttered shut, and he removed each layer of clothing from his body, until he got to his pants.

“Do not stare at me like that. I might lose it,” he groaned, bringing his thumb to caress your lips.

Your walls reflexively clenched around nothing, and you felt your clit swell in anticipation.

His toned torso gleamed of a faint mix of warm colours that emanated from the candles spread around you, and you couldn’t help to place the softest kiss on the think hair of silver that spread below his navel.

Aemond undid his pants to ease the tension on his cock before tossing the garment aside.

“Will you not tell me?” he asked, slowly dropping to his knees as your eyes were fixed on his thick and leaking cock.

With both hands on each thigh, he further spread you apart, dragging the fabric of your chemise up your legs, revealing your most intimate parts to his hungry gaze.

You knew what came next, and readied yourself by leaning back, supporting your weight with your arms.

Aemond pressed soft kisses up your inner thigh until he reached your folds.

He was staring intensely at you. “Last chance to tell me, my lady.”

You could feel his breath on you. “What does that mean…”

“Who hurt you?”

Aegon had been the one to meet your fist after he decided it would be smart to badmouth his brother in front of you. Not even Ser Criston Cole moved to defend the future king. He had deserved it.

But the last thing on your mind was Aegon and his ridiculous antics.

Aemond did not answer your question, as he pressed a kiss to your folds.

“How is it so swollen already?” he growled, parting your folds to reveal your throbbing clit. “Do you like me on my knees that much?”

He had such a way with words that you reckoned you might be pushed over the edge from the sound of his voice and lewd words.

You bucked your hips into him as you felt his tongue prodding at your entrance for a brief moment before he dragged it to lick your clit.

The sight of having the young prince hungrily eating you was enough to ignite the coil in your lower abdomen.

His tongue slipped inside you, as his nose was pressed against the sensitive bud, teasing it with each slurp.

“Right there… Gods…” you threw your head back in sheer pleasure.

The pressure on your lower half was such that you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

“Aemond…”

Just as you we were about to plunge into blinding bliss, you felt him draw away from you. The immediate loss of touch earning a strangled cry from you, your clit demanding attention again.

At first, you thought it was merely his intent do shift positions, so he could be buried deep within you and having your walls contract around him from your release.

However, by the time he was on top of you, dragging the thing underside of his cock along your folds, yet refusing to enter you, that’s when you realised something was off.

“Please… please…” you nearly yelled, wrapping your legs around his waist to increase the friction.

But Aemond paid no mind to your pleas, and kept rolling his hips while sucking gently on your neck.

The moment he heard your gasps getting louder and breathier, he halted, kissing away the tears that had started to flow from the overstimulation.

He lifted his hips as to avoid his cock from touching you at all, and you felt the urge to smack him.

“What are you doing,” you cried out, vision blurry and chest heaving rapidly.

He pressed his lips to your cheek in such adoration, that your heart skipped a beat.

“Do not underestimate my feelings for you,” whispered in a warning tone. “I would start a war for you.”

Others might brush that aside as an overstatement, but Aemond Targaryen did not utter empty threats.

That revelation sent you pushing your hips to his, urging him to have his cock on you once more.

Suddenly, his lips twisted into a mischievous smile, as he suddenly pinned your arms above your face.

You eyes widened in utter shock. “Aemond….”

“It seems we are in a bit of a predicament, lady wife,” he purred, lips nearly touching yours. “You seek release, but I shall not give it to you until you tell me who hurt you.”

At this, you tried to wriggle away from his grip. “Oh… fuck you!”

“I want that, too,” he said teasingly. “But first, you need to tell me a name.”

He chuckled at the evident agony in your eyes stilling your hips with other hand.

“And you will not be able to have your release by yourself without your hands,” he said, giving your wrists a squeeze. “Your choice.”

Your clit throbbed desperately in between your folds, craving his touch, and you had to bite the inside of your cheek at the sight of his cock drippings strings of precum onto your abdomen.

He was just as desperate to have you, and you were perplexed that he had such self control.

Seeing that you refused to cooperate, he lowered himself into you, his cock pressed down on your clit as your folds enveloped it.

“Gods… just move…” you growled in despair, tugging at your hands in an attempt to break free from his grip.

Surprisingly, he did as you asked, rolling his hips slowly. You tried to mimic the motion just so you could get to your point of no return.

But Aemond knew your body too well. He knew exactly what made you tick, and how your body would respond.

He stopped moving at once, heaving a frantic wail from you as your release got put on hold once more.

“Aegon! I threw a punch at Aegon,” you blurted out in between sobs as your sensitive clit throbbed against his cock. “He was uttering nonsense about you and—”

“You punched my brother?”

You opened your eyes to see surprised on his face, with a hint of amusement. He then released the grip on your wrists and brought one of your hands closer to his face, rubbing your sore knuckles with his thumb.

“That’s my girl,” he laughed, planting a kiss on each knuckle. “You should have told me right away.”

You rolled your eyes. “And you would have gone after him. I want you here… with—”

He immediately cut you off with a burning kiss, and just as quickly, he angled his hips to bury himself inside you.

The overstimulation and denied releases had left your body so sensitive that it was as if everything stung and you had to bite your lip hard to muffle your cries.

He ground mercilessly into you, breaking the kiss and removing the eyepatch.

“Look at me.”

You were met with the sapphire in place of his left eye, and knew that he was close the moment his arms faltered, and he nearly collapsed on top of you, speeding up and gripping your hips as he pumped in a final broken rhythm.

Taking your face in your hands, you had your lips caress the long scar, knowing fully well he had grown used to you showing him how much you adore every single inch of him.

“So tight…” he groaned.

You then watched in marvel as his mouth fell open in a quick hiss as he stilled inside you, filling you to the brim.

Feeling his cock twitching inside you violently as he spilled his cum inside, drove you over the edge until your vision blurred in waves of colours, tearing the room with a sharp cry of pleasure.

Aemond managed to regain some composure as he lifted your lower half and placed a pillow underneath your backside.

“Stay like this for a while,” he said, slowly sliding out of you.

Your breathing came out in erratic pants and you felt him gently pushing inside some of the cum that had spilled with his fingers.

At this pace, it would not be long before your belly would start to swell with his child.

He caressed your face with his hand, as he brought his lips to press a loving kiss to your sweaty forehead.

“Avy jorrāelan.”

Your heart skipped a beat, but before you could return the gesture, Aemond slid off the bed, rapidly getting dressed.

“Where are you going?” you asked, shifting to your side, a gush of cum spilling from you.

“On my way to behead my dear brother.”

You groaned in exasperation. “Aemond!”

i'm not sure if you've ever watched beauty and the beast, but there's a scene where he saves belle from wolves and I had this thought about little dove seeing capitano at his most furious to protect her and she's not sure whether to be grateful or afraid of him. it's not like he's ever hurt her...but he could, right?

I already did something similar here! So I guess this is a little continuation? <3

"Will you pray for me?"

In the darkest hours of the night, a bolt of lightning startles you out of your nightmare. The storm besieging the castle fell with such a fierce force that your little sigh was drowned out by the noise of the raindrops incessantly hitting the window.

Another lightning flash, stronger than the previous one, draws a huge, imposing silhouette in front of you. A giant in the dark standing guard. His greatsword, now clean and pristine as if it had never tasted blood, dug lightly into the carpet, its handle serving as a rest for the gloved hand that had wielded it so expertly.

He sat with his back to you, facing the window as if daring all the creatures of the dark to come out of hiding.

It is then that you realize that you are not in your room. You were in his. A much more austere room than yours, and smaller too, he had gifted you the most spacious, beautiful room in the castle. Sunlight always entered your room, but never this one. It was therefore much colder.

You here in his bed, no longer enveloped by his coat.

"Close your eyes my dove, or you'll have nightmares forever," he had said as he covered you and leaned you against his chest. The smell of blood had been so prominent that you still felt nauseated at the memory of it. You can't help but tear up.

"You will stay in this room from now on, tomorrow I will instruct all your things to be moved here," he says, apparently aware that you had woken up.

Gods... please have mercy. The thought of sleeping there every night fills you with dread. The night was usually the time you felt most at peace, he never entered your room without asking you first. What if you were always there and he tried to ...?

You raise your arm and move your hand towards him, not too slowly and not too quickly. You must not let him see how nervous you are. He should always think about how much you loved him, that he could continue giving you liberties, that you were his and did not fear him. You just had to give him enough to keep him happy, and he would leave you alone.

"I was scared to death until you came to save me, your grace. I should have thanked you earlier, I... I should have kissed you."

As your hand touches his arm, he tenses.

"Kiss me, you say? Like little maidens do to their knights?" he laughs, had he realized you were lying?... "Careful, Little Dove. I might take you on that offer, and once I do... I could turn to greed."

Requests are open, yay! 🥰 How do you think Kazuha, Childe and Zhongli would react to their overly affectionate darling becoming too handsy with other people? They're just so used to other people and all these hugs are normal to them but the yandere is just "??no?? STOP"

Hope this makes sense lmao

Makes perfect sense! Thanks so much for requesting ♥

»»————-———— ♡ ————————-««

Childe

♡ Look, he’s been holding back for you, but you’re not making it easy for him to stay courteous. If he has to see your body next to anyone else ever again, Childe might just snap. If the tapping of his foot, the tense expression, and the forced smile on his lips isn’t a dead give-away, then what is? Childe feels like a babysitter, constantly pushing himself between you and all these acquaintances you have. And every time he is introduced to someone new, he gets even more frustrated, wondering how many more are there?

♡ Childe thought he could endure it as long as it meant you’d stay by his side. A sacrifice for his love, that’s what it is. But what is really killing him are the times he has to leave you for his work, his thoughts constantly nagging about the possibilities that other people have to put their dirty hands on you while he’s away. He can see it in front of his inner eyes, the hugs you are giving, hands going places that are his to touch. The thought of you casually holding hands with someone other than him forces bile up his throat. Mistakes are made, pain inflicted, and even if his enemies are dead, it’s hard for him alone to heal the wounds brought forth by your actions.

♡ Maybe it’s his mistake for thinking he could ever endure it. Because the reality is: he can’t. No matter how much he tries and holds back in front of you, the day he’ll pry you off of someone and break their hands for touching his beloved is getting closer. And you, too, will be sorry for throwing a tantrum after testing him for so long.

Kazuha

♡ Kazuha sure likes to pretend he doesn’t mind. You’re cute! Chipper, happy, jumping around your friends excitedly. When you are giddily like that, you also don’t mind him slipping his hand in yours or putting his arm around you, even reciprocating embraces or his touches as you chat away with those people you like so much. This is joy for him, and Kazuha being happy gives you a bit more leniency when it comes to your happiness.

♡ However, he reckons it simply doesn’t do it for him in the long run. It’s not satisfying enough. While he likes your relaxed, open to receive affection attitude, Kazuha still yearns to have it all to himself. If only you could get as excited about him as you do about others, that would be enough to satisfy him. His plan to strengthen what you two have beyond the need for other people was already in motion, as he tags along on your trips with your friends, with his eyes only at you. In stark contrast to you, he doesn’t need other people to feel joy. He only needs you. He knows exactly what he’s doing as he isolates you more, riles up the people with his presence to the point they ostracise you. Believe him when he says it hurts him from the bottom of his heart how bad it makes you feel that no one else is returning your affections anymore and won’t give you something you need and sustain your happiness with. But it’s necessary that he becomes the sole giver of all the affection you could need so that your heart may only look at him.

♡ What are a few nights of tears and heartbreak when it redirects all your love and affection to him? With no one else around, you are left to spend your touches on him, hug him, hold his hand, kiss him. Only him. You can cry into his shoulder for as long as you need if it means you let him hold you, rock you in his arms. If it means he can kiss you until you giggle and nuzzle your face into his chest as he envelopes you in his arms when you two go to bed. It’s worth breaking all your ties with other people to have you all to himself.

[This works well as a prologue to this story I worte (: ]

Zhongli

♡ One could say Zhongli’s grip on you is a little tense when you two meet potential acquaintances of yours. Outwardly, he’s relaxed, smiling gently, but his hand holding yours is squeezing out any stupid idea of getting too handsy with anyone else. In your initial joy, you might still try to jump in the arms of another, but your bones cracking in his hold are enough to snap some sense into your head. Zhongli gets thoroughly satisfied from seeing you recoil, choosing another, shorter, and less intimate interaction instead before returning to his side to loosen the grip he has on your hand. The smile he gives you is genuine, now that he knows you are aware of who’s side you belong to.

♡ Zhongli makes you repay every touch to someone else doubled to him. At least when you two are alone, he’ll force your arms around his neck, his lips on yours, and his hands all over your body. Fair is fair, right? As your boyfriend, he should have the most right to receive your affection, and he rarely takes ‘no’ for a rejection. It’s the price you pay for going out and seeing your friends, being inappropriate with them for no reason. If this is how you reward your friends for being by your side, then Zhongli wants to have the whole rest of the delicious attention-cake you are offering.

♡ Save to say that you won’t hear the end of it if fair conditions aren’t met. You two might not have a binding contract concerning who, how, and when you’re giving your attention. Still, if you ever wanted to see a grown man (or even more spectacularly: an archon) pout, there you have it. He’ll be dismissive, short-spoken, cold to you for as long as it takes for you to try and reconcile with him. It comes to no one’s surprise that at some point, you might not be up for his bullshit anymore, but you, too, shouldn’t be surprised if his jealousy turns into a blind rage when you try to end things with him. You might be breaking more than just the relationship because even an archon’s old mind can be broken under certain conditions. Especially if it’s simply not fair.

I wont give up writing for anything, even if that means I have to leave the Akademiya.

Creative Differences (Yandere!Tighnari/Reader)

A/n: compadre I lowkey got scared reading this message cause I was procrastinating on reviewing college algebra by writing a fic. It was kinda ominous haha! (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠). Anyways, I'm not sure if this is a writing prompt or who it's about, but here's a short (prolly ooc) yan!Tighnari fic. Enjoy!

gn!reader

CW: yandere!Tighnari, toxic relationship

—---

You're breaking up with your boyfriend of two years this afternoon.

Yes, you dated him despite knowing his flaws. You went out with him, knowing that he can be a killjoy and a bit condescending. And yes, you admit, that at first, you thought it was cute how Tighnari acts more abrasive around you when he is easily cordial around others. That you thought you were special since he doesn't act this falsely repulsed towards anyone else. That his facade will progressively melt soon as your relationship progresses.

Spoilers: it didn't. Somehow, instead of controlling his sharp tongue, you made it uncontrollably worse.

You were considerate and thought it was just stress. Being an underappreciated forest watcher would bound him to a few troubles on its own and the Akademiya's insistence on bringing him back is another factor. He had no need for the Sages' favors while they remained deaf when receiving his declinations. You chucked his behavior as a result of stress, and since he "trusts you more than anyone". Tighnari feels freer when he's with you compared to his associates. He openly expressed his frustrations because he's aware that you won't leave him, much like family.

But he smiles so much softer when he’s with Collei…

You know it's bad, really. To get jealous of his poor student as a final straw. It doesn't look good for your case, but one night you accidentally eavesdropped on their conversation and noticed how Tighnari's ears seem to straighten up whenever Collei calls him "master."

He never has time for you. He's always so busy, it's like he was avoiding you on purpose.

But you're mature and didn't act on those unpleasant emotions. You think of Collei as a little sister, and you can't imagine something bad happening to her. So, to lighten your mood, you jokingly called Tighnari "master" like the forest rangers.

And not so jokingly did he grab your wrist iron tight and tell you that if you say that again, he'd have you locked up in a cage like a filthy boar.

The remainder of the evening featured Tighnari avoiding eye contact. He never offers you an apology and acts as though he hadn't uttered anything horrible that left you feeling groggy the next day.

But being on the receiving end of his anger hurts. Especially when you know you've done nothing to deserve it, at least, it's nothing to you. 

He vehemently opposed your enthusiasm for penning romantic light novels for grounds the fox refused to divulge. Instead of being proud that your novel "The Knight Tames the Villainess" beat Zhenyu's notorious "Legend of Sword"' for a week, Tighnari rained on your parade by insulting your readers and the characters of the book.

The fox said that the love interest behaves like Cyno and that he's not a hero worthy of wasting anyone's time. That if you're going to write a male love interest, he should've been more snappier and honest with the female lead's flaws instead of being stoic. 

"He's done nothing to help her improve." He rolled his eyes. "The black kitsune antagonist had more chemistry with the female lead than him. That white-haired bodyguard is a joke of a protagonist. Your readers have no taste."

You didn't question why he was affected and offended by this. Tighnari was certain that if you did read between the lines, you would've rooted out the cause of the problem immediately.

He picked your characters apart while he engaged in a Socratic-like method of patronizing you. 

None of his complaints, aside from his assertion that your novel lacked "logical structure," were verifiably true. Although the male character is silent and unfunny, he has done everything in his power to help his loved one become happier in all areas of her life. In addition, it is absurd that he believes the traumatizing antagonist was a greater role model than the boy who fell in love with the female lead.

You were surprised. From the years you've spent together, not once did he talk about your hobbies with you– and you wished he never did. 

"Stop wasting time and focus on your thesis. How else are you going to pass the board if you're too busy behaving like a big lummox? I'm saying this because I care about you, (Y/n). If you need extra cash just say so. You don't have to write for those people, they're all just–"

Tighnari didn't stop there. You loathe recalling the rest of what he said.

You wouldn't mind his words if he attacked your skills in writing, but to call your readers illiterate and dimwitted spinsters with no taste in men was enough to unseal everything you had bottled up for the past 2 years.

The entire argument was a blur. There were screamings and loud thuds, but what stood out most from your memories was the bold declaration you uttered by the end of it all.

"I won't give up writing for anything," you spat. "Even if it means I have to leave the Akademiya– if it means I have to leave you."

Normally, debates with him are futile, but at least there was one major key takeaway from this exchange.

You had an epiphany. There was never a need on your end to be with Tighnari. That your writing was more than an escape– it was a clear cry for help and a reflection of your needs and desires. And you were hoping for someone to depend on and a chance to break free from the "villain" in your life.

It had been days since that fight, and you calmed down. With the way things are going, this conversation should be a breeze on your end. 

"(Y/n), you wanted to see me?"

Speak of the devil.

You put your cup of coffee down.

"Yes, please close the door. This is pretty important."

He locked the door.

Tighnari looked indifferent– as usual– and flopped his tail down the nearest chair. His ears were twitching slightly as he fixed his hair, puffing it to add more volume.

You nodded, fishing a paper out of your pocket. Tighnari raised an eyebrow.

Since he was so keen on reminding you that you are awful at holding academic presentations without a little "cheat card", you decided that you'll bring one this time too. Albeit, it only had the words "FUCK YOU" written eloquently, it's enough to make you remember the many woeful sorrows you want to communicate. You don't care that it's petty. Even though you’ll be civil about the break-up, a little card wouldn’t hurt. At least when the afternoon's finished you can joke about it at parties.

Tighnari would laugh at your face after you say your piece. He's a natural-born sophist– some might call his wisdom false for it, but his persuasion is influential. Hence, you fully expect him to gaslight you midway. The fennec fox would remark that your performance was funnier than any material the general Mahamatra came up with. But you don't care. 

There's an exciting world out there once this is settled. You can't wait to be single and get nervous around anyone you find remotely attractive.

"So? Get on with it, (Y/n)." He tapped his fingers on the table. You almost forgot he doesn't like it when people get too distracted. "I still have to plan the next cleansing ritual."

"Course you do." You let out a snarky retort without realizing it. "But please bear with it, this shouldn't take long."

He hummed curtly.

You cleared your throat again, trembling anxiety making its way up your fingers.

"Tighnari, let's have a clean break up."

"Sure."

"Oh." You nervously smiled. "Thank you, I apprec–"

Tighnari hurriedly sprang from his chair and slammed both hands down. His eyes widened as your thoughts took a moment to sink in. He laughed without mirth.

"... Wait, come again?"

He squeezed his nose and closed his eyes while taking a breath. The slight grin on Tighnari's face proved your assumption was accurate. He was laughing at you.

"What are you trying to play here?" 

Of course, it'd be too easy if he just agreed with you.

"Whatever it is that you're trying, quit it. If you want to go on dates then sure. We could visit Liyue Harbor this Saturday–"

"No. I'm being serious here." You breathed shakily in a mediocre attempt to steel your nerves. "I want to break up, Tighnari."

He paused, his stone-cold gaze unbreaking.

"Why?"

"Because we're both unhappy." 

His ears twitched and drooped down slightly. "We are?... You're unhappy?"

"Yes." You said it almost like a question, so you repeated it to make things clear. "Yes, I am. And so are you."

Tighnari slowly shook his head. 

"No, no I don't. I love being with you, (Y/n)."

You sucked air between your teeth. Your heart started to pound loudly as your hand clenched a handful of your shirt tightly. It's unfair. He can't say that after every verbal abuse he subjected you to hear. 

"Tighn–"

"I know what this is about. You're having an affair with Cyno, right?" He snarled.

Huh?

This time, it was your turn to be stunned and simultaneously enraged. You glared daggers at him while your closed hand hit the table.

"Excuse me?!"

You both went silent. The fox heard your heavy breathing and knows you're too baffled to speak.

"I can't believe this." Tighnari sneered, but his voice was raspy and strained from disbelief. His tearfully frustrated eyes contorted as he forced words out of his mouth. He raised his hands abruptly before languidly motioning his thoughts in the air.

"I can't believe you didn't even realize you're in love with him. I-I was willing to turn a blind eye if you were fucking him behind my back. That’s how much I love you. I thought turning a blind eye would stop you from stirring up this– this rebellion– You're a fox's mate– my mate!" 

He shook, mad.

"And I can't and won't find another. Damn it (Y/n)– you know this!"

"What made you think I'm having an affair with Cyno?!" You balled your fists, and your knuckles paled. 

One more absurd comment and you'd be convinced that he's under the influence of hallucinogens. It wouldn't be a huge stretch. What kind of boyfriend would let someone else bed their lover? An incompetent one maybe– if it were a healthy polygamous relationship and everyone consented then you wouldn't bat an eye, but it isn't. 

You're not some debauched "doll" shared against their will.

"I've never cheated on you!" You screamed.

"From the way I see it, your patrols with him should be considered an emotional affair." Tighnari deadpanned. "Playing with his hood, pulling his arm, laughing at his unfunny jokes– you're practically a whore for him."

Holy shit.

"You're insane." 

That was the only response you could say.

So painfully, you wanted to nitpick the flaws from his argument. How satisfied you would've been if you pointed out that's how humor is subjective and that's how platonic relationships work. Even though you wanted to make him feel tiny with your stream of unwarranted reprimands, you don't want to be like him.

Let his delusions simmer and stir– you have nothing to do with him anymore.

"You know what, we both don't need this talk. We're done, Tighnari."

You walked past him and reached for the doorknob. 

It rattled, however, it did not open. 

You tried again, frantically in an attempt to loosen the locks. This was the worst moment for a door to jam. You slouched forward and pulled harder. There's no way he won't use this moment as a way to drop more inane comments. You heard a chair being dragged out behind you.

"It's no use. I locked it."

"Then open this fucking door."

"Why should I?"

You shivered, not noticing Tighnari right behind you. His lips hovered above your ear.

The reputable forest watcher trusted by travelers and citizens alike pressed a doused handkerchief against your nose. 

Panic overrode your rationality when you realized what you were inhaling, and stupidly you gasped. It smelled faintly made out of dendro energy and plants created by Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. You and Haypasia, whose major research concentrated on the Irminsul, are more than familiar with its aroma.

It's the incense. 

Normally, it's taken for the sake of connecting with the Irminsul, but his motivations make you dread why it's being utilized. Continuous exposure increases the susceptibility of researchers to its effects, and in this context, Tighnari is exploiting that for...

You jumped and clawed his arm, but your vision wavered like it would in the desert. His arm encircled your waist, and he was, unfortunately, stronger than you. The card you were holding fell. Tighnari's ears perked up as he sensed your strength waning.

He caught you right on time. Consciousness evaded you, and you weakly leaned on his chest. 

Tighnari smiled.

He smiled so much softer than when he talked to Collei– and everyone else in Teyvat.

"Why should I open the door, when I have you right where I want you?"

Tighnari -> breeding

content: nsfw, breeding kink, praise, mentions of pregnancy and creampies, Tighnari has a knot | reblogs & comments appreciated!

~0,7k words | kinktober masterlist

Tighnari was a gentle lover. 

He was attentive and kind, always aware of what exactly you needed when you needed it; the pace with which he fucked you with was usually slow and deep. Sensual. 

He liked to press his lips just below your jaw whenever he pushed into you, pressing loving kisses to your skin until he had bottomed out, and he made sure to make you cum at least once before he took you properly. 

He had each of your preferences memorised perfectly; he knew whether you preferred him to lick or suck at your clit, whether you enjoyed having your nipples played with or not, and he never failed to make you absolutely lose your mind in pleasure, all your muscles turning to jelly. 

Tighnari was a gentle lover, until he suddenly wasn't. 

Unaware, dare you say naïve, as you were, you hadn't known about ruts, though they appeared to be quite a big deal if the way Tighnari was currently pounding into you was anything to go by. 

His narrow hips slapped against your own, his nails were digging into the soft skin of your waist and you cried out sharply at a particularly hard thrust. 

Your back arched off the bed, your eyes fluttered closed, and, God, you were almost sure that the head of Tighnari's dick was hitting against your cervix with how deep he was, with how full you felt. 

“So good for me, aren't you?” His voice was raspy, lower than usual, and it sent a shiver up your spine. “God, you feel fucking perfect around me, so hot and tight. You're such a good girl.” 

The praise earned him a needy moan from you, the noise high-pitched, and you couldn't help but clench around him. The sudden tightness caused both of you to groan. 

“You're so pretty like this.” Tighnari's breath was warm against your neck; suddenly, he reached down to feather his thumb over your clit, and you whined, the noise breathy. “Gorgeous, really. And you'll be even more stunning after I've filled you up.”

Without even meaning to, you tightened around him, wet walls pulsing as heat rose to your cheeks because of words. This really wasn't something you had ever imagined but, suddenly, you found yourself unable to think of anything but him filling you, getting you pregnant. 

Tighnari's chuckle had a mocking tone to it. “Oh? Seems you liked that, didn't you? Is that what you want, love?” A grunt as he pushed into you again. “For me to fill you up until you're dripping with my cum? For me to breed you?” 

You whined in response, the noise utterly needy. Sweat dripped down your neck, arousal coiled heavily in your abdomen, and everything felt so damn hot — your clit was throbbing, your lips open as more high-pitched sounds fell from them. “Please—” 

“So you do?” Tighnari huffed out a laugh, though his grip on your hips tightened. His next thrust had you all but keening; your sight blurred when, suddenly, your orgasm crashed over you without a warning. The constant stimulation of your clit was overwhelming. “That's cute, darling. I'll just do that then.” 

Pain and pleasure mashed together into one confusing emotion as Tighnari kept fucking you through your orgasm, his pace unrelenting; you whimpered pathetically as your wet walls pulsed around his cock, all but sucking him in despite the dull ache in your abdomen.

“Please”, you eventually choked out, though forming coherent words seemed like a herculean task right now, “Please, Tighnari, fuck—, want you to knock me up, please.” 

You moaned as your words made his dick twitch inside of you, and your thighs trembled when liquid warmth filled you up moments later, his dick growing in width and, oh—, the sensation of your cunt being stretched even wider was overwhelming, indescribable, and tears welled up in your eyes before you knew it.

“Ah. I forgot to tell you about the knot, didn't I?” Tighnari's smirk was cheeky, his ears twitching. You merely whimpered in response. “Just be glad for the brief break you're getting. Once it goes down, I'll take you again and again.” 

Your cheeks seemed to grow impossibly more hot as he leaned down, green eyes sparkling with mirth. “After all, we want to make sure it really takes, right? We'll have to go for quite some more rounds if you really want to end up pregnant. But don't you worry, love. I'll breed you properly.” 

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Title: Tea Screen [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Title: Tea Screen [Yandere Scaramouche x Reader]

Synopsis: The trembling voice of the tea apprentice carries through the room, and though you can’t see him, you imagine he must be shaking. Who wouldn’t be, tasked with gaining the approval from the Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbringers? 

Word Count: 2240

Notes: Yandere, forced marriage, abuse

 “Is–is it acceptable, my lord?”

The trembling voice of the tea apprentice carries through the room, and though you can’t see him, you imagine he must be shaking. Who wouldn’t be, tasked with gaining the approval from the Sixth of the Eleven Fatui Harbringers? Even if its only approval for a selection of tea.

You rock forward, just enough to peek your head past the screen keeping you from view, and glance at the selection laid out carefully in front of Scaramouche–in front of your husband. 

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Clandestine Rendezvous | Himmel x Reader

If you weren’t so turned on and so touchy, the assignment would have done by now. If you weren’t teasing him, this wouldn’t have happened. If you weren’t wearing that skirt and thigh highs he wouldn’t be so hard right now.

All these reasons he could possibly think of endlessly hovered in his mind, but such excuses turned out so petty when he himself had secretly enjoyed this erotic and salacious “accident” you displayed for him.

Nameless Bard x Fem!Reader

disclaimer: NB is aged up and story is set on modern AU, service top Himmel and power bottom reader

warning: NSFW content, this fic is just pure smut no actual story, multiple orgasm, public sex

art belongs to: ylceon

word count: 11.2k

note: this is a two-part valentine special fic for my beloved himmel <33 i didnt mean to turn this into a valentine special but i just thought hey why not do it since imma eventually gonna post the second part in white day (march 14th)

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Think of Me | Yan!Venti x Reader x Yan!Diluc Opera AU

Summary: Master Diluc, the infamous composer, has been the Opera's greatest star for years now, being a favorite among the elite, as well as your devoted teacher. Nevertheless, Venti's growing popularity among the masses garners your attention.

Credits: This series is heavily inspired by Andrew Lloyd Webber’s “Phantom of the Opera”, as well as Bernard Rose’s “The Devil’s Violinist”. This short fic is part of the Opera AU series. Warnings: General Dark and Yandere themes, implied stalking

“She may not remember me, but I remember her” ― "The Phantom of the Opera".

You had heard about the joyful bard that enraptured the public's attention. Known to play in the lesser of stages, as some would call them: places such as taverns, bars, and busy streets. He seemed to dislike and criticize the pretentiousness that surrounded the Opera you worked in, to the point of refusing to lend any of his compositions to be adapted to the greatest stage of all.

You met him while running your usual errands outside the Opera, a few weeks after your debut, joining the multitude comprised of people of all standings who gathered around the small plaza to listen to him play the lyre and, just like them, became instantly fascinated by his whimsical style.

He dressed... extravagantly. His clothes were mismatched and had patches from different materials, which you found endearing and sort of charming. The only thing of value he seemed to carry was his lyre and the small hat that sat on the floor to collect tips, which was filled to the brim.

After apparently recognizing you, the mysterious bard asked you to join him for a very popular love song, the type that your Maestro would think of as too mundane and corny, making you hesitate for a minute before you ended up agreeing after some pressure in the guise of encouragement from the audience.

To your surprise, never in your entire career had you had that much fun singing. His music reflected in many ways the nature you had long before Master Diluc discovered you. It had a lively, effervescent joyfulness to it. It had no need for perfection, nor the dark exigency that you had become used to with Master Diluc's complicated pieces. Its simplicity felt right and freeing, and it brought you to happier times when you practiced for the choir try-outs as a child. The melody felt like a memory, which in turn felt like home.

His gaze rested on you for the entire performance, with a strange understanding, as if he knew you from a time past and this was the culmination of a long-awaited reunion. The same type of longing look a foreigner makes after hearing someone speak the same language as them.

The melodious last note is mixed with the loud cheer from the audience, which had doubled during the song. You raise your hand over your lips as you let a small giggle escape them, slightly surprised and amused by how you'd lost yourself in the performance.

Seeking the gaze of the bard, you are, for a moment, slightly taken aback.

By what, exactly? It was hard to pin down, as his eyes had an eerie and slightly unsettling quality of grim delight, of somber joyfulness…if such words could ever be used to describe the same thing. But it gave you the feeling that, despite the triviality of this moment, something had occurred.

The cheering stops abruptly, promptly followed by startled gasps that draw your attention. The audience in front of you begins to divide into a clear line, and your heart stops at the sight of your Maestro. Your smile died down instantly.

In unconscious response to the coldness of Master Diluc's gaze, you lower your eyelids and bow your head, surveying his dark profile in secret from beneath your lashes. Silence reigned, as fascination settled in among the crowd. He had a certain quality that created a conception of him as a being with a superior understanding of everything beautiful and solemn, the one and only authority when it came to music. You yourself were tightly enmeshed by it and felt in debt to your beloved Maestro, who had miraculously condescended to favor you over the rest.

The air condensed as he approached, his slow steps matching the slow thick strokes of your heartbeat. People started to feel the awkward tension, but the young bard stood unbothered by him, a charming smile illuminating his face. They exchanged some common courtesies, and even vaguer compliments, but you could barely pay any attention to them.

Your whole perception of your surroundings was hazy at best, barely making up something along the lines of: "Maestro Diluc! I borrowed your little songbird for a tune, I'm sure you don't mind" and "You heard about me, Sir? I'm flattered!", which sounded... almost like mocking, but Master Diluc tilted his head anyways, which seemed to lift the tension for a moment.

After a short indication, you wrap your arm around his, ready to leave the small, sunny plaza for his somber candlelit kingdom. Just before you start walking, the bard gently takes your hand, raising it up to his lips.

"It truly was my pleasure, Miss."

You feel Master Diluc's arm tense immediately but says nothing as you thank your previous music partner with a small bow. As both of you turn your backs to the bard, you see him reach into his pocket and pull out a single bill, which he drops into the bard's tipping hat, skidding over the coins to the dirty floor.

"Is it true? Are you absolutely sure?"

"I saw it with my own eyes! They brought the music sheet to the Director's office, but I think it appeared in her dressing room first, signed "Venti the bard" and all. Apparently, he wants no other singer, that's his sole condition."

"I thought he didn't like Opera Houses"

"Well, something must've changed his mind."

Hi, this is my first time requesting even though I really want to say to you that the Xiao fic you wrote entitled Lament was so good that I am biting my tounge while reading to prevent me from (s)creaming because it was such a chef's kiss.

May I ask if you plan to write a yandere Kazuha? I just really love him. A praise-deprived Kazu which his desire enhances whenever his darling (reader) praises him with no idea of what effect she does.

I just thought that if he's a yandere it would fit if he's a bit younger like 2 or 3 years as the reader would treat him as her younger brother and have known each other as kids which that the reader dotes on him.

Praises him on little things like starting a fire or getting her a sweet fruit in the middle of the forest as we could see Kazu's eyes turning in the shape of heart and she has no idea of what effect she has on him. :)

thank you so much for reading that fic! I still feel somewhat unsure of that fic sometimes, so this comment really helped ease my fears :)

content warning: female reader, stalking tendencies, yandere behaviour—read the tin. you get what you come for, after all.

Late getting around to this since I've just returned from a hiatus, but yes, yes, a thousand times yes. Love the idea of an older darling that’s very much the big sister type. I imagined a bit differently, with darling being the member of Beidou’s ship who has a big family that she’s had to leave behind to follow Beidou. 

And your heart is always so soft for pitiful things, especially since seeing such a lonely, sad young man like Kazuha when Captain Beidou first introduces him to the rest of the Crux members. He doesn’t speak, eyes always downcast whenever you approach him and ask him if he’s well, whether he’s comfortable, what you can do to ease his journey on the ship. Nothing, but he glances away when you approach. 

Well, no matter. You’re one of Captain Beidou’s, and you’re made of sterner stuff. You stop asking questions, even as the rest of your crewmates keep questioning him. What you do is take care of him, coming and going with water, warm soup, little snacks you’ve managed to haggle from the stingy chef on the Alcor. He accepts your offers without a word, only a nod in thanks, the red of his eyes soft, and it warms your heart to see the young man getting more lively in the way he’s moving about the ship. 

He starts opening up a lot more, telling you and Beidou of imminent storms, predicting weather as though he were the Raiden Shogun herself manipulating the storms. The flurry of compliments makes him turn away from you in embarrassment as he would give his thanks. You delight in the sound of his voice, taking to keep him next you and under your wings, determined to have him close. It’s been a long time since you've been really able to take care of anyone like this, and you relish in the opportunity.

The day that he reveals his name is the day you take it upon yourself to use it as often as you can. Kazuha, you’d say, let me do this for you. Tell me about this. And when you ask him whether you could change the bandage on his hand for him, Kazuha looks at you from under his lashes and nods. The lad’s been through so much, you could tell, from the worn calluses on the pads of his fingers and the angry red burn at the centre of his palm. The wound has healed long ago, but there must be a reason he still wears it, so you take the most attentive care in wrapping it.

And as you both travel to and fro, according to whatever whims Captain Beidou feels like following, Kazuha sticks close to you. You praise him as you would your younger siblings at home, a note of compliment never far whenever he does anything of note, whether it be raising the sails, telling the weather, reciting poetry, practicing his sword. You’re not a fighter, being the supplies manager and quartermaster to Juza, but you knew a little here and there. Whenever you’d cross blades with Kazuha, he’d never go easy on you, saying something about there’s honour in giving one’s all against a worthy opponent. You always laugh and ruffle his hair, gushing about how he’s so strong. He always smiles, crimson eyes sparkling as he soaks in your words, a little hum as you bump shoulders with him. Thank you, he tells you, and his answer is airy, as though he were struggling to breathe.

It’s great, having such a mild-mannered young man to fuss over. Nothing like your own rowdy siblings at home who whine at the slightest hint of you ruffling their hair or scolding them about finishing their foods. Kazuha is so considerate too, always leaving you the best cut of the fish that he finds or the most perfect of all the apples he gathers whenever the Alcor docks close to the forests of Mondstadt. Nowadays, whenever you show the slightest discomfort, Kazuha’s always the one speaking up for you, suggesting for you to take a break. 

It’s perfect, having Kazuha as a friend. There’s just one thing… Just one small oddity. He follows you a little too closely. Listens a little too carefully. Whenever you go run your errands, to restock the supplies, to ask for repairmen, Kazuha—even though he’s been assigned his own duties—always appears a few minutes later, breezily saying that he’s done his own tasks and came to see if you were having troubles. Left or right you look, Kazuha is always there. He always finds you.

It gets a little too much, even with your casual nature of always being so warm and inviting. And when you bring it up to Kazuha, a question of, “Maybe we should meet up later, Kazuha? I’m sure you’d like to spend some time by yourself.”

Kazuha shakes his head. “No need,” he says calmly, crimson eyes a little too bright against the sunlight. “I like being close to you.”

You swallow. Not that you didn’t enjoy it, but it was frazzling your nerves, his eyes ever-present in your peripheral, never moving an inch from you. Not even your own siblings had ever been this clingy in their younger days. “Boys your age…” you trail off. “Don’t they prefer to be alone? I’m sure you don’t want me to ruin your fun.”

“Why would you say that?” Kazuha tilts his head, inspecting the way you furrow your brows. He places his fingers over yours, bandages ghosting over your skin. Raises your hand and presses a kiss to the back, the touch of his lips sending up warning shivers. Kazuha says softly, “I’m only worried about you. That’s why I’m here. Is that a problem…?”

“No, no,” you hurry to say, afraid of hurting his feelings, squeezing his hands tight and forcing a smile on your face. Kazuha smiles back, and for a second, the world seems alright, the breeze gentle and soft against your neck. 

But you still couldn’t shake off that feeling, as though the autumn wind had arrived a season earlier than anticipated, its airy blade ready to trim all the green leaves from a summering tree.

Hi! Could you write yandere headcanons for a mountain of smiling bodies?

⸸ T-01-75 (The Mountain of Smiling Bodies Yandere Headcanons) ⸸

(No Face went through rough times to be in Lobotomy Corporation...)

"From the death of hundreds, a single monstrosity was born."

⸸ The countless faces covering its body would appear inconceivable to anyone who looked at them. Withering, eyeless, and pale with death, it would be a miracle if anyone recognizes any of them to be their colleague's.

⸸ But just because humans couldn't, it didn't mean that the creature couldn't recognize any them. In fact, T-01-75 knew every single agent working in the facility, including the ones covering its body.

And you might just be the new addition to its collection.

⸸ T-01-75's obsession with a specific person would be rooted in the sole fact that it cannot eat them.

⸸ Try as it might, they were too durable, somehow always managing to best the Abnormality before it could pin them down and devour them.

⸸ Nothing says true love like wanting to be your darling's only killer.

⸸ T-01-75 would know its darling's scent, and would recognize it the moment another Abnormality dares to hurt them.

⸸ It's already bad enough for any and all agents to come to its containment unit injured (doing so will definitely lower the Qlipoth Counter).

⸸ But if you were someone T-01-75 is particularly attached to, it is 100% guaranteed that seeing any sort of injury on you will immediately send it on a roaring rampage of revenge (after it eats you, of course).

God forbid it if you were to die.

⸸ Will give you it's 'Smile' gift solely because it thinks your body is too weak. His gift gives you extra HP, and regardless of how your fortitude is, T-01-75 will always see you as fragile and fleeting.

⸸ Fleeting, because even though it can be hurt, maimed, and reduced to nothingness, T-01-75 will always live on.

⸸ So long as there are corpses, so long as there is meat and blood in this world, it will always come back.

⸸ But what about you? You, who is more than just the blood and flesh and bones that make up your body?

⸸ You would be gone.

⸸ Is it really difficult at all to understand why it wants to keep as much of your remains for itself?