#liyue

another piece for the baizhu zine ✨// @baizhufair

A/N: Realized I published the wrong draft the other day of this, so I reposted.

💍 In Public

• Ever the picture of composure, he carries himself like living stone — but those who watch closely see the softness in his eyes when they rest on you.

• His hand will brush yours in passing, lingering just long enough to send a thrill through you. To others, it looks like nothing; to you, it feels like a secret he shares only with you.

• The people of Liyue revere him, yet they murmur in awe at the thought that you — and only you — have managed to win his heart.

💍 In Private

• Once the doors are closed, restraint melts away. He’ll pull you into his lap while sipping tea, his thumb tracing lazy circles over your thigh as he recounts tales of ancient times.

• He adores the sound of your laugh, often pressing kisses to your jawline mid-story just to hear it again.

• When apart, he grows restless; the weight of centuries feels heavier without you. You are the tether that keeps him grounded in the present.

💍 Jealousy

• Zhongli does not argue or posture when jealous; instead, his silence cuts deeper than words. A single glance from his molten-gold eyes is enough to freeze most in their tracks.

• If another lingers too close, his hand settles low on your waist, firm and unmistakably possessive — a silent vow that you are his.

• Later, when it’s only you, his composure cracks. He’ll pin you to the wall with a heated kiss, his voice rough at your ear: “Do not forget, beloved — you are mine alone.”

💍 NSFW

• In the bedroom, he worships you like you’re a divine relic — every kiss slow, every caress deliberate, as though savoring the sacred.

• But when centuries of restraint snap, he becomes unyielding. He drives into you with the same intensity he once commanded armies, leaving you trembling under the weight of his devotion.

• He loses control when you moan his name; the deep, broken sound that leaves his chest betrays just how much power you hold over him.

• Afterwards, he always holds you close, forehead pressed to yours, whispering soft words in an ancient tongue — apologies, endearments, and promises that he’ll never let go.

💍 Domestic

• He insists on brewing your tea every morning, calling it “a husband’s honor,” though his lips curve in secret amusement when you tease him about it.

• He slips pressed flowers between the pages of his texts, each one chosen because it reminded him of you. Sometimes, you find little notes tucked with them — old-fashioned love letters penned in his elegant script.