Characters Who Fit This ; Kazuha, Albedo, XIAO, Zhongli, Tighnari, THOMA

visions

consensual somnophilia w scara?

Sure thing! Fem reader ahead. I was giggling when I wrote this 🤭 900 wc.

Yandere scummy Scaramouche who wakes up in a cold sweat, shooting up into a sitting position and trying to steady his, for some reason, very unbalanced breathing. He can feel a deep and hot flush on his cheeks, as well as the slight trembling below his knees— and of course, how could he ignore the way his dick so uncomfortably prods against his now painfully tight underwear. It hurts, a lot— so it’s no surprise how he restlessly shoves the weight of the heavy counterpane off his body and hurriedly pulling the fabric of his boxers down his legs, and lettings his throbbing cock spring out and slump against his abdomen. He silently lets out a small grunt of satisfaction, and even in the dim lighting from the moon that slightly peaks through the blinds, Scaramouche can still, clear as day, see the way his cock twitches happily now that it no longer suffocating in his pants.

Scaramouche brings up his hand and lets it tussle in his messy and unkept hair, pushing away the loose strands that covered his eyes. It’s quiet, the only sound being an occasional wind breeze that flows past the open window, the rustling of the sheets when his toes decide to completely disobey his bodily control and curl at the tension of his antsy erection— and the faint sound of steady and balanced breathing coming from the space beside him. He blinks, and cautiously turns his head to the side where he’s met with the sight of you, laying on your side and so comfortably snuggled under the blankets, seemingly without a single care in this god forsaken world.

You’re still asleep, that’s good, he would just hate for you to awaken with all the consistent fidgeting he’s doing. As silently as he can be, he slowly places his hands onto the area of the mattress behind him, and gets into position to lay back down— this time however, he’s turning onto his side and shimming his way closer to your body, carefully manoeuvring his way under the covers and pressing his slim chest flat up against your back. You just feel so warm and cozy as he wraps his slender arms around your waist, how your hair smells so heavenly when he stuffs his face into the crook of your neck and deeply inhaling, the pattern of your calm and gentle breathing feels so comforting against his front that he can’t help but reach down to spread apart your legs and direct his cock to slid in between your thighs.

His mouth is right up against your ear— but with the way the warm and smooth skin of your thighs squeezes his dick in so tight has him letting out a some what load moan that he couldn’t manage keep down. It just feels so fucking good that he starts rutting his hips against your ass, letting his cock slip in and out of the gap in your legs and rubbing so tenderly against your clothed pussy. He’s genuinely surprised you haven’t woken up due to all the moans he’s whining into your ear, or the way the bed had started to violently creek as he hard started to speed up, but he’s glad either way.

Although Scaramouche absolutely adores having his arms wrapped snugly around your beautiful waist, he lets his hand drop from your hip and clumsily crawl down to your underwear— finally taking note of the lack of clothing you had on— or rather, didn’t have on. No pants? That has him pressing a shambolic and tired kiss onto your neck and smiling so sloppily into your skin. “… thank you, Angel. Thank you so much, always me feel so fucking pleased, so…—” he has to stop his rambling so he can catch his breath. He could feel it, how his thrusts has started to become sloppier, his throat dry and his voice hoarse, he’s not sure if his vision is hazy due to his sudden wave of fatigue, or the fact that there are pleasure tears pooling on the water line of his eyes. One thing he does know is that he’s so close to cumming when he feels his orgasm slowly creeping up his nerves. “… so over the moon.”

What does manage to set him off though, is the way you shift your body in your unconscious state and thrust your hips back into his own, unknowingly matching the pace of his thrusts and clamping your plush thighs acceptingly around his cock. He cracks, a pathetic sob falls from his lips as he squirts his cum all over you and the bed sheets that you sleep so elegantly on. “Oh god… my fucking god…” he knows it will take a while for him to catch his breath, so he just lays behind you and pulls you closer into his embrace, letting his head fall onto your pillow and stuffing his face into your hair. “T-thank you… thank you so much… but I— I can’t… I want— no I…”

“I need more, please…” he’s not sure how the sudden wave of desire had fallen onto him again so suddenly— but as he finds himself once again ramming his aching cock between your thighs like a bunny in heat, he knows this little boost of energy that he had mysteriously acquired just now, would not end any time soon— definitely not with the way you let out cute little whimpers of your own when he reaches down to slide your slightly damp panties, down your legs. “Please— just the tip… I’ll only put the tip in this time, I swear…”

GENSHIN + MORNING SEX

「 CHARACTERS 」 ⋮ alhaitham, scaramouche, diluc + kazuha

— length ⋮ 2k words (about 500 each)

— contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, unprotected sex + slight exhibitionism (alhaitham), praise kink + hand jobs (scaramouche), somnophilia + fingering + edging + clit slaps + begging (diluc), unprotected sex + overstimulation + praise kink + creampie (kazuha)

— notes ⋮ this started as separate drabbles for diluc and alhaitham but they were too short to stand alone sobs. also it’s my first time writing kazuha for @dottores

❀ 𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌.

“h-haitham…” you gasp, feeling alhaitham’s teeth just barely graze your nipples as he sucks at the skin, his other hand cupping your tit and rubbing a thumb along the pebbled bud. “kaveh’s just down the hall—”

“and?” he raises a brow, making you huff.

“and he’ll hear,” you hiss, pulling a scoff from him as he pulls the material of your pants down your thighs.

“then i guess you’ll just have to keep it down,” he hums, a smug grin tugging at his lips, making your core ache—and sometimes, you hate him. sometimes, you hate that just the look on his face alone is enough to convince you to cave, legs spreading as your glistening folds are exposed for him. 

he taps the fat tip of his cock against your clit, making you whimper in anticipation as he slides along your entrance, coating himself in your slick and smearing his leaking pre cum along your folds. and you try—to your credit, you really do try to stay quiet…but the burning stretch of alhaitham’s thick girth as he slides into you is enough to make you let out a weak sob. 

“f-fuck—haitham, please,” you gasp, “more, need more…so big.” 

he grins widely, letting out a low chuckle as he angles his hips and fucks into you, tip pressing against your sweet spot with enough force to make your nails dig into his shoulders as you mewl. his navel bumps against your clit, and the tight clamp of your walls around his painfully hard cock pulls a low grunt from him against your ear. 

“so tight,” he chokes, “f-fuck, you’re so good for me, yeah? a-always…always take me so well. gonna fill you up,” he rasps as your walls flutter around him and a mix of your arousal and his pre cum form a ring around the base of his cock. 

he thrusts his hips into you harshly, the squelching sound of his length drilling into you filling the quiet of the morning along with your desperate moans and his low grunts. it’s sure to catch the attention of your boyfriend’s roommate, but alhiatham can’t bring himself to care. it’s his house—and he’ll fuck you against the walls out in the open if he so chooses, he reasons. 

his eyes darken as your hand covers your mouth, trying your hardest to muffle the sounds that rip from your throat as he bullies his cock deep into your dripping cunt. 

“what, you don’t want him to hear how good i make you feel? is that the issue?” he sneers, wrapping a hand around your wrist and tugging your hand away from your mouth, making you gasp as he rolls his hips and hits a particularly sensitive spot against your walls. his thumb finds your clit, rolling harsh circles along the sensitive bundle of nerves, pulling a loud whine from you as you throw your head back and let your eyes flutter shut. “are you hearing yourself? do you hear how good i give it to you?” 

you’re too busy sobbing at the way the blunt head of his length hits your sweet spot with every roll of his hips to focus on the knocking on the door—the same knocking that makes alhaitham smirk as he quickens his pace, making sure you scream his name even louder to drown out a certain blonde as he demands peace and quiet.

❀ 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐄.

scaramouche has places to be as a harbinger—duties to get to and a job that keeps him rather occupied. rationally, he should be out the door by now…but your lips are a lot more enticing than carrying out his responsibilities. he tells himself he’ll pull away after just one more second, after just one more extra moment feeling you against him.

but then you start rubbing against him like that, and the bulge in his pants forming can’t be helped. it’s your fault—it’s your fault he’s late…but somehow, he doesn’t really seem like he minds. 

“if you have to go, then go,” you tease, pulling a growl from him as he glares at you. the hard-on between his legs is aching—throbbing to sink into your wet cunt and feel the tight hug of your walls. he shoots you a warning glance, making you giggle as you reach under his waistband and free his hardened cock. it’s heavy in your hands, red and flushed at the tip and weeping with beads of pre cum that have you hungry for the taste of him on your tongue. 

you stroke him languidly a few times, smearing his arousal around the sensitive skin, squeezing around his tip and pulling a weak groan from his throat. 

“d-don’t even think about teasing,” he glowers, making you chuckle before you press gentle kisses along his cheek, pressing your lips over his closed eyes until they travel to the tip of his nose. he gasps, biting his lips and whining as your hand brushes away stray strands of hair from his forehead and cups his cheek. 

“so pretty, kuni,” you murmur, “you look so pretty like this, you know. love you,” you breathe against his lips, pressing a soft peck against his mouth as he moans into yours. 

your thumb grazes his slit, teasing the tip of his cock, making his hips buck into your fist as he chases the friction. your other hand moves to cup his balls, squeezing and fondling them as your palm drags up and down his length quickly. his breathing is erratic now, harsh and labored as breathy whines fill the room with every second he approaches his orgasm. 

“i—’m gonna cum,” he rasps, “f-fuck, ‘m gonna cum…don’t stop,” he tries to demand, but the tone in his voice is bordering on a plead, almost as desperate as the way his hips fuck up into your hand to chase his release. 

you press lingering kisses along his jaw and cheeks, whispering hushed praises and gentle promises that you won’t stop—not until he’s cum for you and painted your hand white with his release. 

“s’ok, kuni,” you murmur, “just cum for me, okay? c’mon, baby.” 

with a choked gasp, he falls over the edge, thick ropes of cum shooting from his tip and coating your hand as you work him through his orgasm, taking in the sight of his parted mouth and closed eyes, taking in the blissed-out expression as he breaks under your touch. 

and scaramouche has things to do and places to be—but he can’t bring himself to leave the comforts of your arms as you wrap them around him gently. 

❀ 𝐃𝐈𝐋𝐔𝐂.

diluc wakes up earlier than you every morning—it’s the norm. but sometimes, on days he comes home particularly late and roughed up, on days that are rare and far in between, you wake up to the sight of him still in bed, nestled under the sheets with crimson streaks that paint the pillowcase. 

it’s hard to resist him, and even harder to ignore the slight bulge of his morning wood that already taunts you. you argue it couldn’t hurt—and how could it when he sounds so pretty as he groans in his sleep with just a simple touch? your hand tucks under his boxers to expose his hardened cock from its confinements, slowly stroking it and smearing the leaking pre cum around his thick girth. 

it’s not long until his eyes blink open, peering up at you confused as he sucks in a harsh breath and moans at the way you squeeze around his swollen tip.

“f-fuck—what’s gotten into you—”

“luc,” you whine, “need you so bad,” you grab his hand, bringing it to feel the dampness forming between your legs, making his breath hitch.

and every plan he has for the morning flies out the window—diluc is a busy man with a busy schedule, but he’s never too busy for you. he doesn’t waste too much time rolling over you and pinning your hands over your head, leaning to kiss gently along your neck as his fingers sink into your dripping cunt. he’s purposefully slow—takes his time sinking his digits in and curling them against your sweet spot, rolling his palm over your clit with a ghost of a touch that has you whimpering. 

“i suppose i’ll just have to give you a lesson on being patient, won’t i?” he mumbles, bullying his fingers in and out of you painfully slow, pulling a needy whimper from your lips.

“faster,” you plead, “please, i wanna cum, luc. go faster, ‘s not enough—”

“be patient,” he growls, pulling his fingers out to land a warning slap against your clit, making you writhe against the sheets as you sob. the ache between your legs is painful—you want to feel the burning stretch of his thick cock, the familiar friction of his veins dragging along your walls as he splits you open. but he has other plans—plans that consist of teaching you a lesson for waking him up so selfishly…even if he can’t really say he minds it.

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, tears gathering at your lash line, “jus’ needed to feel you, ‘s all,” you pout, and he leans to press a soft kiss to your jaw, thumb teasing your clit as your walls clench painfully around nothing.

“i know,” he hums, “but i still have to teach you about being patient, love.”

❀ 𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀.

kazuha is a little bit greedy—just a little selfish when it comes to you and the way you feel under his body. he wakes up to you nestled against his side, pressed against him firmly and close enough that he can almost hear the pounding of your heart. you fit against him so well, and your hips curve into his hands a little too perfectly—who is he not to appreciate the feeling of you molding against his touch?

it’s not long until he has you pinned underneath him, his breath hot against your neck as he pants into your skin, hips sloppy and out of rhythm as he ruts into you desperately. he’s lost count of how many times he’s fucked you full of his load—of how many times you’ve cum around his cock as he pulls you into orgasm after orgasm. 

“k-kazu—”

“shh,” he coos, pressing sweet kisses to the tears on your cheeks, brushing his nose against yours as his fingers lace to connect your hands. he’s sweet—so sweet even as he utterly destroys you, the pleasure mingling with pain as you sob from the sensitivity. “just one more, love. i promise one more is all i want.”

it’s a lie—it’s what he said the last time, and the time after that, you think. the sun’s rays pour through the curtains, kissing your overheated skin and glistening the surface with sweat as he drills his spent cock into your dripping cunt. 

“c-can’t,” you protest weakly, wobbly lips and teary eyes peering up at him, pulling at his heartstrings with how perfect you look. “‘s too much—’m gonna…gonna break,” you gasp.

“now, let’s not be dramatic,” he chuckles, nipping at the skin along your jaw, sucking gently before kissing the marks he paints along every inch of you he can reach. “you want to be good, don’t you? wouldn’t you…ngh—” he cuts himself off with a weak groan as you squeeze around him, letting out a shaky breath, “—w-wouldn’t you want to be good for me?”

and you ponder his words so carefully before nodding, making him stare at you affectionately as you hiccup through cries and latch onto him tightly. you pull him into a needy kiss, whining against his mouth and letting him swallow your moans as he slams the blunt head of his cock against your sweet spot, curving into you and dragging his thick veins along your tight walls. 

it’s too much—but somehow, you can’t help but ache to give him more. 

“yes, ‘m good,” you nod, “wanna be good.”

“so perfect,” he breathes, and with another press of his mouth to yours, you come undone, mewling as your walls spasm around him and pull a low grunt from his lips, making his hips falter before he’s whining and spilling yet another load into your abused cunt. “love you—love you so much…so perfect.”

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

I’m thinking about Albedo, wanting to run a test on you. He wants to make you addicted to him.

Whenever you’re with him, he laces your food. first, with a highly addictive substance, then with an aphrodisiac. your first visit on the side of dragonspine was fairly uneventful, but he could tell you were flustered as you left. he revels in it, wondering if you could even make it down the side of the mountain before your hand was down your pants. or maybe you did make it all the way back home, all pent up and hazy from the drugs, rubbing your little pussy against a pillow like a bitch in heat.

and you come back, and you feel the same feelings. this time, though.. you’re a little less adept at hiding it. he’s made you cum at least six times by the end of the night, and you pass out there. of course, your breakfast the next morning is laced too, and he gets to watch you blush and shake and try to hide it and fail miserably all over again. how exciting.

and eventually it works, you turn up at his shelter more and more often, all but begging for his cock even without the drugs. he successfully got you addicted to his dick, and he’s gonna use it to his advantage.

content warning: noncon, aphrodisiac drug use, mindbreak, masturbation (f), creampie. dark content! anti dc & -17 dni + nsfw under the cut.

ANONNNN big brain i love u for this kiss kiss

It’s the type of feeling that crept up on you almost instantly, lathering your inner thighs with slicks and clouds up your mind with lewd thoughts. All you could think is going anywhere as long as you’re alone, as long as you can hurry your dainty fingers down your panties and twiddle your wet cunt with your hand cupping your mouth to muffle your whines. it’s weird how you’re always like this around Albedo, knees growing weaker, cheeks heating up and by the time you realized, you’re rubbing your thighs together to ease the ache between your legs as he speaks.

It’s truly immoral coming from you, but even you can barely hold yourself together right now to think straight. Every subtle touch from him elicits a whine out of you which leads to you quickly excusing yourself without caring about the brutal cold. Not like it could compare with the way your body heats up right now, you just hope and wish to Barbatos that Albedo doesn’t hear you.

Guilt came to play with your heart when you started touching yourself to him, your fingers pumping inside of you, pussy squelching as Albedo’s face flashes across your mind. Embarrassed come next when you showed up at his shelter with a much more disarrayed appearance, begging for him to help you out from this weird situation you found yourself stuck with.

It’s a shame that your vision is too blurry from all the tears if not you could’ve pieced it together— why every time you consumed everything from him your body acts up, why even a spoonful of his food sent this feeling jolting in your body. But at least somebody prefers it that way, Albedo would rather you not know of it. Besides, why would you want to, right?

You’re happy here with him, constantly fucked out of your mind. If his nose isn’t buried in books then it would be buried in you, tongue lapping your wet cunt as the bridge of his nose rub against your puffy clit. And when he’s frustrated with his experiment, he’ll just let it out on you, pushing your soaked panties before shoving his cock inside of you. Not that you mind, all you know is throw your head back and worship his cock, tight pretty cunt clamped down his cock every time you cum all over his lap.

He doesn’t even need to laced your food again.

secret relationships with them. includes xiao, albedo, cyno, childe. gn!reader. modern au! slight college au?. no warnings. wc: 1,428 . semi proof-read.

xiao — [✧]

despite being in the same circle of friends, no one has seen you and xiao interacting outside hangouts. no one has seen you two talking for at least five minutes, either one of you always talking to someone else. and so, no one would think you two are close, right?

in truth, your relationship with xiao was never meant to be a secret. if one were to ask either of you if you two were together, you two would answer the same thing: yes.

though both of you had never agreed to keep it under wraps from your friends, it just seemed as if it was a normal thing to do. you two were still friends, at least to others.

no one even notices the changes when xiao starts telling them that he'd drive you home, always shrugging his shoulders if they'd ask him to drive them home too.

often, on the weekend, when hutao proposes to meet up for lunch, you and xiao always come at the same time—and like always, you'd tell them you caught up to him in the parking lot.

he would sit beside you every time, only because there were no seats left, and hold your hand under the table. sometimes, he places his hand on your thigh, brushing his thumb over them as he talks to kazuha about something you have half the mind to listen to.

though you suppose you aren't hiding your relationship, you don't talk about xiao to hutao or yanfei. they'd never shut up about it, is what you say.

sometimes, when you're saying goodbye to everyone else, xiao waits for you by the corner, waiting for everyone to leave. he'd hold your hand more freely in the car, placing his lips on your hand as he murmurs a small i love you.

because your relationship isn't in the open, xiao is always frowning whenever yanfei brings up another man's name, telling you that you just have to meet him.

still, even if you and xiao sometimes decide on telling them that you have been together for months now, you two find it amusing whenever they seem so clueless. maybe for a few more months, you'd keep it a secret.

albedo —[✧]

keeping everything a secret was more of an agreement made by you. initially, you were afraid of what others would say. you had made such a fuss about not falling for him—because god, albedo was always competing with you in everything.

at first, albedo had pointed out that no one would be surprised should you tell everyone you two were together. they're already expecting it, he says.

but your relentless whining and pouts made albedo agree, only on the condition that you'd start talking to him more on campus.

and no one notices the way how albedo's gazes go from observing to loving. he wouldn't be able to count on his fingers how many times he had looked up from his laptop to find you laughing along with your friends.

if you ever made it to the lecture before him, albedo would tap three times on your table—i love you.

when you walk past him in the hallways, albedo brushes his fingers with yours, smiling lightly as he talks to aether about his new findings.

you always end up in the same places for lunch, with you telling amber and eula that you want to eat in that specific place. eula wonders why albedo and his companions are everywhere you go.

no one notices the lingering stares and the suppressed smiles albedo sends your way. somehow, you are the only one who notices the subtle expression on his face, and he tells you it is meant for only you.

still, as the days pass and you begin to regret your decision on keeping it a secret, albedo would remind you of the consequences, humming as he'd hold you.

and once you finally had had enough of albedo continuing the agreement you both made, you'd come up to him once your classes end, and grab him by the hand.

you'd tug him along after, entwining your fingers with his as he lets out a small laugh, telling you that he found you cute.

cyno — [✧]

no one suspects cyno to be romantically entangled with someone, hell, it is a mutual agreement by those who know of him that he barely had any emotions other than that of discipline and justice.

no one suspects that it is you who had wormed the way into his heart, the stoic and straightforward cyno's object of affection.

even before you had met him, he was always an enigma to you. always hearing of him from your friends but never getting too close to meeting him.

and when you did meet him, he kept you at arm's length, always brushing you off; his serious personality almost pushed you away. hint: almost.

and similar to cyno pursuing individuals who had done something wrong, he would pursue you to the ends of the world, wanting to hold you behind closed doors.

every time without fail, cyno would wait outside your lecture hall, ready to reprimand you so that you'd come along with him. no one knows that he leads you home, your finger intertwined.

because many view cyno as crude, he has vowed to keep you safe from others, resorting to keeping you as someone who has constantly broken rules that he cannot overlook—it is only he and you know otherwise.

despite being seen as a threat to others, cyno often accompanies you at night when you need to submit requirements, talking to you laxly as if there is no other person in the world.

and really, even the people who he considers friends do not know the secret between the two of you, always hiding you from them so as to not let them know that he has one particular weakness.

and being his weakness, when there are no more lingering eyes of those who he considers enemies, cyno takes you in his arms, nuzzling his face by your neck as you'd laugh.

often, you sit across him from his desk, watching as his brows scrunch up, finishing whatever task he had left. he looks pretty, you say, and he simply hums.

and while cyno is eager to let others know you are his, he will have to put up with it for now, keeping you to himself within the shadows.

childe — [✧]

with childe, your relationship with him is more of a game. though both of you had initially agreed to tell everyone else that you were officially together, you had told him a small joke—one that you two laughed about the whole time.

who would confront the two of your first? would it be hutao? or would it be kaeya? maybe keqing if she was nosy?

childe was always touchy, even before the two of you began dating. no one questioned the back hugs, the holding of arms, or the constant poking of sides.

hiding your relationship with childe was easy, at least you thought so at first.

even when you are together with your friends, childe makes it a point to never linger for too long with you, either deciding to sit on the couch with kaeya or argue with xiao about god knows what.

when everyone is saying their goodbyes, childe simply waves at you, telling you that he'd see you next week—no one knows he'd wait a few meters away, watching to see if there is no one else but you who can see him.

and not once have you gushed to any of your friends about childe. you had not told anyone about him holding your hand in the car or him zipping up your jacket.

as the days go by, you begin to grow annoyed at the game you had put yourself in. you were stuck in your own dilemma.

but once, keqing had told you that childe keeps looking your way. just when you had lost all hope—ready to admit to everyone that yes, we are indeed together!—keqing comes to the rescue.

xiao follows after, scoffing that childe has not kept his eyes off your for the past hour. then, you remember that childe had taken one too many drinks for the night.

and not even a minute later, childe is announcing his love and adoration for you. always a lightweight in alcohol, you'd watch as he stumbles towards you, laughing.

at least now the game is over, and no one had won.

NOTES this originally had kazuha in it but i couldn't write him bc i really couldn't envision it in him HSAHHASHS might be my last post for a while as i'm running for honors and i really have to focus on that

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Just Don’t Look [Yandere Diluc x Reader]

Title: Just Don’t Look [Yandere Diluc x Reader]

Synopsis: Diluc is a perfect gentleman. He must be. Because if he isn’t, you don’t think you can handle it.

For Horrorfest request: Diluc and “I’m scared to close my eyes; I’m scared to open them.”

Word Count: 870

notes: Yandere, kidnapped reader, bondage, noncon touching

Dawn Winery is a beautiful estate.

And you can’t complain about the company, either.

Diluc Ragnvindr is the perfect gentlemen. He pulls out your chair before every meal he attends–almost every dinner, and sometimes he stays long enough in the mornings for breakfast. He inquires about your day with the utmost of sincerity, even though it is almost always the same (you read, you embroidered, you took a bath).

He ensures that his staff treats you with respect and gentleness, never raising their voices or throwing furrowed brows your way. They  help you get dressed in clothes that are softer and finer than anything you’ve ever owned. They prepare your baths, filled with sweet smelling soaps and oils. They fetch you things to do, if Diluc has permitted it.

You’re treated so well here. Like royalty, some might say. Kindly. Finely. Like some precious jewel that must be handled with the highest of grace and care.

But… and there’s always a but, when you are treated so well.

But.

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Yandere Creep! Scara who sets up cameras in your bedroom…

While checking the live footage one night, he finally gets to see you masturbating, so ofc like the gross perv he is, he excitingly takes this chance to jerk off….but something catches him off guard and has him pause his movement? Did you say something? He’ll need to replay that..

Did you just moan his name?

This took way longer then it should have, even though it’s short 💀

God knows how he snuck in to place them, or how small they’d have to be so you don’t notice,— probably climbed into your window when he knew you would be out for a decent amount of time, and hid very small cameras behind your shelves and ornaments— as well as making sure he got just the absolute perfect placement where he had access to view every single angle of you.

The first few nights that he has the live footage of your room pulled up on his computer are slow— you’re just doing ordinary stuff like studying at your desk for hours, or leaning up against your bed frame while you scroll through your phone. Repetitive activity that anyone would yawn at, but not him. Not Yandere Creep!Scaramouche who stares at your every movement through the screen with a small and content smile on his face. How he’d sit at his desk for hours, with the only time he’d look away being to rub the blur out of his eyes and to use the restroom.

You’re just so fucking adorable without even knowing it, he thinks. Every time you get up and walk out of the room to grab or do something, his eyes are carefully following your figure like a hawk— praying that you hurry up and come back into frame where he could see you, because he didn’t have enough cameras to put around your whole house. God, he just gets so excited watching you that he can’t help but let’s his hands wander down into his pants and start jerking off the boner you unknowingly had caused him.

How he’d grip his nails into the arm of his chair in desperation and thrust his hips up to counter the pace of his hand, throwing his head back and sobbing out your name in lots of pathetic, shallow whimpers when he squirts his load of cum all over his keyboard. His breath is inconsistent as he rides out his emotive orgasm, face flushed into a deep shade of vermillion with beads of sweat trickling down from his forehead to his neck. But not once. Not once do his eyes leave you as you sit quietly at your desk, with a towel wrapped snugly around your body and drops of water occasionally rolling down your glowing skin.

He bet you smelled like heaven its damn self, and he wanted nothing more then to be sitting beside you and stuffing his face into the crease of your neck to breath in your heavenly aroma— but sitting behind a screen and watching you from behind a camera was enough for him, for now. Scaramouche slightly adjusts in his chair and watches in anticipation as you stand up from your own seat and stalk over towards your bed, stopping right in front of the edge of it.

His slight curiosity quickly morphs into full faced shock when your hand reaches up to your towel to slowly untie it— and he physically feels his breath stop as the material almost elegantly falls from your body and dropping to the floor under your feet. He’s stunned, eyes blown wide and with each second that passes, he can feel how his heart rate quickly increases by the beat. “Oh… my fu— fucking god.” He staggers, his cock physically twitching in to the palm of his hand. You’re naked,

Jaw slacked, Scaramouche— who’s still in his state of shock, stares so intently as your ass allures him in almost teasingly when it sways side to side as you crawl into the middle of your bed, and lay back comfortably onto the mattress. Perfect, you looked absolutely perfect as your hands trailed down your skin and towards your— your… wait a minute, are you about to do what he think you’re about to do? He leans in so close where his head is almost touching his monitor, his hands planting on the desk surface to keep him from toppling over out of excitement— and trying so hard not to blink until you finally…

Finally bring your hand down to your thighs and spread them apart ever so slightly so your fingers can slip in between and access your pussy. He moans, a full fledged moan falls from his lips when you start teasing your cute little clit with your fingers. “Fuck, fuck, no fucking way—” is this real? Finally, what he’s been waiting for this entire time, for you to finally (and unknowingly) show him that filthy side you’ve been hiding away.

His hands are quick to reach back down to his cock, before he quickly starts to masturbate again— this time however, he has something to look at while he does so. His hand is moving at an almost inhumane speed up and down his shaft, and he knows that if you keep it up— toying with your cunt and laying so erotic looking on your bed— he won’t last for much longer.

God you sounded so fucking cute too. When you’d let out little whimpers as you slowly start to insert a finger inside your hole, Scaramouche is grunting out your name and pretending you’re making those sounds right next to his ear while he fucks into you. How you’d let out small whines and use your free hand to play with your nipples, his tongue flops out of his mouth and glides over his bottom lips to imagine he were the one doing it. The whole sight of you touching your self just has him so hot and heavy that he can’t help but grip onto his cock harder then normal and tug at it like it was going to run away.

Just as Scaramouche is about to cum, as he’s hunched so far forward and sobbing out your name in a broken tone— he hears a static sound from the audio of the camera, before your cute little voice enters his ears again. He has to pause, the rapid movement of his hand stops along the shaft of his cock as well. What was that? Was he hearing things, or did you really just—

“Mmhm— Scara!”

Oh, wow.

“Ah…” it takes a while to register, his brain racking for an answer before it finally clicks. You just… moaned his name… while you’re playing with your pretty cunt with those pretty little fingers, thinking about him. Only him, no one else. “Oh… my fucking fuck!”

Yeah… Scaramouche has never cum so hard in his life before.

Also rushed to see if he was screen recording or not. Imagine his anger if he wasn’t l m a o 💀

*clenches fist* finally……..

✧˖*°࿐ “COULD I…HELP YOU?”

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

FEATURING: gorou, tighnari, & yae miko.

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

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

— GOROU

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— TIGHNARI

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

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

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

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

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

And it’s all because of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

— YAE MIKO

WOMEN. WOMEN RRRRRRAUGH THIS IS MOMMY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[ OCT 24 ] HEAT | gorou

pairing: gorou x fem!reader

warnings: nsfw, slight omegaverse?? like v slight, breeding, service top!gorou, you play with gorou’s ears a lot lol, knotting, gorou in heat

notes: i had this idea after THAT audio clip was released

“i never knew your ears were so sensitive, general.” gorou wanted to despise the bright, curious little glint in your eyes as your fingers continued to ravish his flushed ears. he could hardly protest, partially because he didn’t want to, but also because every attempt at one he made was in vain as it melted into an obscene cry.

“please forgive me for prodding so openly. i know i’m not one to get distracted but…” it was ironic how you couldn’t even muster the rest of your thought, utterly indulging in gorou’s lewd responses.

kazuha was right. i need to help him.

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