#silentmothwrites

When asked about Blade, most everyone would reply that he is cold, standoffish and intimidating. He looks like the kind of man who wouldn’t hesitate to end you if you accidentally put pickles on his burger.

The Stellaron Hunters would say otherwise; sure, he looks intimidating, but he’s actually a calm, thoughtful guy. The kind of man who, after several years of living with solely women, doesn’t even question when Silver Wolf, Kafka or Firefly ask him if he can go to the store, he already knows, hell- half the time, he’s already got what they need, and if he doesn't? He knows what they want before they even say it. 

He’s more attentive than people give him credit for, like a cat, lingering in the corner, but keeping watch over his territory and those he has deemed ‘his’ people. A wallflower some might say…just...one that would occasionally lash out if he deemed someone’s presence unworthy or unwelcome.

He is far sweeter than people believe, the rumours about his bloodthirsty and violent nature, and the bounty to match only serving to cover up the man beneath, the man he keeps out of the public eye the most.

Because for you? For you, he’s never been anything but attentive and kind.

He would never say it, but everything he does for you screams the lengths he would go, he would move mountains for you, destroy planets, solar systems, entire galaxies if he had to. 

It was in how he touched you; bandaged fingers always always careful, no matter how many times you assured him that you were not made of glass. It wasn't fear, you think, that kept him in this state, more like a reverence, like he was a child, and you were his most precious treasure, something he would not, or could not dare break, fold or crease. 

It was the way he always leaned his head down whenever you spoke to him, not condescending, but acknowledging. Even if his eyes were elsewhere, he always makes a point to let you know he’s listening. He takes your suggestions to heart always, he listens to your woes, sometimes he will offer words of encouragement, and sometimes he will offer his sword, if that was what would rid you of your problem faster.

(you had yet to take him up on the offer of the sword)

It was the way he cooked, despite seldom eating himself. He claims that food is simply nutrients for his body, and when he eats for himself, it is almost always something plain and easy to procure…but if he had deemed it long enough that you, or the other’s had gone without, he would rise from the couch and cook a meal that was far more complex, he was a surprisingly good cook, Xianzhou cuisine etched into his muscle memory to the point you’re sure he could make some of these dishes with his eyes closed…and yet it was only ever for you, for the girls, for literally anyone he cared enough for but himself, that he would showcase this ability for. 

You knew he struggled with memory, with himself, with his past and his present. He never verbally acknowledged it, and you think it’s because he doesn’t want you to worry; but you worry anyway, because it’s Blade, and with all the time and care he puts into you and the other Stellaron Hunters, you think he deserves that much. 

He’s far fonder of physical touch than he lets on. He claims he cares little, but the fact he seemingly physically cannot fall asleep unless he’s holding something close to his chest states otherwise. In the privacy of his own quarters with you, it’s rare that you part. It doesn’t matter what you’re doing, Blade wants to be a part of it, no matter how big or small. Reading? You find yourself pulled into his lap as he leans against the wall, working on something? There’s usually a hand on your thigh, or an arm wrapped around your waist.

He liked to bite on occasion too. Nothing wholly terrible…a love language with no words. The soft nibbling of teeth along your shoulder as he holds you, or the way he would timetimes lift your hand, just to bite down onto it- this could could mean a thousand different things that he couldn’t say; ’I missed you’.

’Don’t be gone so long, next time.’

’I love you.’

You don’t need to know the exact meaning, his presence, and the act in itself was enough.

Blade liked to claim his body was nothing but a weapon, he did not understand why you saw attraction in it, but he doesn’t stop you either as you carefully unbind the bandages to see him properly. 

Nor does he realise that the scars littering his body are far more sensitive than he gave them credit for. Each scar was a story, but a story lost to the mara; his memory too foggy to discern most all of them.

All but one.

His chest, the large, jagged scar that took up near all the space of his right pectoral, long, long since healed over, but still visible. Slightly redder than the rest of his skin, pulled tight, especially just over his heart. You knew, of course, about Dan Feng, about why Blade hunted his reincarnation, but to see the scar made something twist in your gut.

Slowly, you reach out to brush your fingers along the centre, for a brief moment you feel Blade’s rabbiting heartbeat before the man lurches- his hand gripping your wrist like a vice, the pressure only growing stronger as he scowls, you gasp out as you feel your bones creak.

And just like that, the pressure lifts, the wild, frenzied look in his one visible eye fades and you see the rare flicker of concern as he hunches, his hand no longer squeezing, but cradling your wrist as his other arm comes to brace against your back. He looks horrified with himself, at what he’d done. 

“I-” He chokes out after a long moment of just…staring. “I didn’t-” 

You know, you know he didn’t mean it. You weren’t upset; perhaps a little spooked yes, but not upset. Scars held pain long thought healed, yet no matter how faded, they could still sting.

“It’s ok.” you whisper, lifting your other hand to brush some of his bangs out of the way, catching a rare glimpse of his usually covered eye. He looked like a kicked puppy, like he was expecting you to toss him out in the rain. 

You could never.

You don’t need to say anything else, knowing too much reassurance would only lead to Blade second guessing things, so you content yourself with pressing your uninjured hand to his cheek and smiling. Watching as Blade leans down and quietly presses kiss after kiss along the wrist he’d nearly snapped.

It was in these acts of service that he showed he truly cared.

Full Name: Milica Morozov

Nickname: Mil

Fatuus Codename: M.C

Age: 20

Birthday: June 27

Vision: Cryo

Weapon: Catalyst

Contstellation: Ursa Minor

Affiliation: Fatui (formerly)

Familial ties:

One would think being related to the eleventh fatui harbinger would grant Milica a relatively easy life, however this is far from the case. Unlike young Ajax, who's parents were loving and supportive, only making the harsh descision to send their son away after he became violent; Milica's parents, childe's aunt and uncle, were cold and strict, pressuring their daughter to excel in everything, Milica could not find enjoyment in any sort of hobby or interest without her parents finding some way to capitalise and compete with it, effectively ruining any interests the young girl had, and also driving an enormous wedge into her social life.

When she was not attending a prestegious shneznhayan grammar school, her shedule was packed with back to back classes, lessons, tutors and competitions, from singing to dance, debate, figure skating. Her parents would barely seem to react other than a short nod when she emerged victorious, but would often damn her and proclaim their disappointment when she slipped up.

When young cousin Ajax was heralded as the newest, youngest harbinger, Milica never heard the end of it from her own parents. At the end of her own rope, she made the rash decision to join the fatui herself, enduring the harsh humbling that was fatuus basic training bootcamp and coming out the other side with a new appreciation for good, honest, hard work.

Harbinger material she certainly wasnt, hell, she would be the first to admit she had issues with combat, often finding herself disassociating during the ordeals, however, administration was a sector the fatui were severely lacking numbers in, and Milica happened to have quite the head on her shoulders, and so, after an invitation from her dear cousin to transfer to Liyue and work under him at Liyue's branch of the Northland Bank, she leaves her home country behind for a brighter future.

"I...don't really enjoy it. That's probably the thing that catches people off guard the most once they discover tartaglia is my cousin. It's never exactly come naturally to me...but one day when pulcinella was visiting the camp...he told me to just keep swining until my body told me that was enough...so I guess that's just how I do things." -About Milica: Combat

For most of her time as a Fatui agent, Milica is visionless, and turned down the initial offer of a delusion. When she does gain her vision however, she finds struggle in finding a use for it with most weapons. Even when she finally settles on a catalyst, her use of said weapon is rather...unconventional, those who have seen her in action with her vision have described her fighting style somewhat like the Anemo wielding inazuman detective, far more physical than most would expect, or the General Mahamatra hailing from sumeru in the way her powers manifest.

Normal attack: Milica's cryo powers manifest in the form of large, bear-like gauntlets of ice that she uses to physically attack her foes, dealing cryo damage on each swing. Every 2nd and 4th swing will grant her a cryo claw (up to 4) which decrease stamina consumption when using her charged attack.

Charged attack: Milica, with the use of some stamina, unleashes a larger, heavier slash, the accompanying cryo shockwave deals short AOE cryo damage.

"Back off!" "Don't touch me!" "Just try it!" - Voiceline: Elemental skill

Elemental Skill [Bruin's Diversion]: Darting backwards, Milica leaves an icy snow-man like construct in her place, this construct acts as a taunt as well as causes a short-range AOE effect, after it has taken sufficient damage/ sufficient time has passed, this construct will explode, dealing cryo damage in it's wake.

"Chill out!" "Try getting out of this!" - Voiceline: Elemental Burst

Elemental Burst [Ursid Frenzy]: Upon activation, Milica's Cryo gauntlets become larger and sharper, she gain's a buff to her Attack and Attack speed scaling off her max defense, as well as how many cryo claw's are active at time of burst activation. Each swing in this 6-swing combo also sends fourth short-ranged AOE cryo shockwaves.(Maximum duration 15s)

First Ascension Passive: Allows for a further 2 cryo claw stacks.

Fourth Ascension Passive: Upon activation of her Elemental Skill, the Party is granted a cryo shield, scaled to Milica's Max DEF.

Passive: Every hit with Ursid frenzy, Milica has a chance to gain back 10% of her HP, this chance is increased if she has fallen belot 40% HP.

Utility Passive [Engineers Mind]: When using Milica to craft gadgets, she has the chance of returning half the product required to craft it.

Voicelines of note

"My vision...? I uh- I dont...really like to talk about it honestly...but...you've heard about some of the reasons behind why people are granted certain visions...right? well...let's just say...mine came to me much later than I wish it had..." Voiceline: About Vision

Milica does not particularly enjoy attempting to remember the day she recieved her vision, and there are only two people who know exactly how it happened. Until she knows for sure a person is trustworthy with the information, she will take these secrets to the grave.

"Oh, childe? he was always my favorite cousin! It might just be because we were the closest in age...but he was always funny and made sure to include me in whatever strange game he was playing whenever my parents and I went to visit him...when he went missing in the forest for those three days when we were 14...i really did assume the worst...I'm glad he came back...but he was always...different after that.." Voiceline: About Childe

"Oh t-the consultant from the funeral parlour? he's fine I guess..." Voiceline: About Zhongli

"Oh, Mochi? they're great! honestly I have no clue how they can be so talented with a sword but also how they cook so well! I'd be living off of instant meals and take-out if it wasn't for them!" Voiceline: About her roomate

Please do not repost or rework. Many thanks to @ainescribe for the help/letting me steal some of her layout

Ok but Svarog, who definitely knows what sex is, of course he does, he has an entire database to access, and lets face it, this man has probably already accessed it when looking up ‘how to parent’ information because at one point or another he’s going to have to give clara ‘the talk’

(no, we wont talk about how his version of the talk is going to be the most embarrassingly clinical talk ever to exist. rest in peace clara.)

But he does not, for the love of anything, understand why you want to have sex…with him.

Nonetheless, he does not stop your hands roaming his chest plates, he doesn’t really stop you from doing… anything really, because… whatever this is  makes you happy, and that’s all he wants. 

He’s confused when you ask him to touch you, but he does it anyway, all while sifting through his databanks to figure out both why and where. 

This is also the day you discover that Svarog has an… interesting vibration function in his hands that he claims was once for easing stiff muscles of his old human commanders before he was abandoned.

Yeah it’ll sure ease you alright.

Admittedly…he does like watching you squirm…it does… something to his servos.

Though, he thinks he may have created a monster, because now every day, without fail…you’re asking him for a hand. 

Perhaps one day, when he has done enough research…he might just reveal that one…extra modification that had been made to him before everything went to shit.

One day he will allow you to delve below his trousers and maybe one day he will use that…modification, to finally give you what you want, since it seems you’re unwilling to find another mortal to fornicate with.

Besides

perhaps …clara could do with a mother figure around.

----------

Some say the Aeon Yaoshi, of the Abundance, is a cruel and evil creature.

This does not stop you from seeking Their favour.

However when they finally do appear before you, you get so much more.

Six hands, long and delicate, trailing your skin as they pull you close, unearthly voice whispering in your ear, telling you they’ve heard every prayer, every plead and call for them; how they’ve been watching you all this time, and now they have come to bestow the blessing you’ve been seeking.

But only if you can endure one last trial.

In some depictions you had found, Yaoshi is endowed with a scorpion's tail, so it isn’t a shock when the appendage curls around your body, the tip pricking into your thigh. You feel the warmth of the poison spread through your body and you moan for it. Yaoshi only hums their praise 

Their venom makes you feel warm and fuzzy, it makes their touch intense and vivid, most of all…

it makes you want to give yourself over entirely

You feel hands touch places that have never been touched by another, you feel their teeth and their tongue. You hear their praises.

And then you wake, in your bed. 

At first, you think it was a dream, but then you sit up.

You were naked, your muscles ached, but it was a sweet ache, soft around the edges, and there on your thigh, where they had stung you with their venom…

the symbol of abundance

----------

Soft hands, and an even softer voice, leave you weak in the knees.

“Ready to talk yet?” Kafka muses quietly as she presses a single finger to your collarbone, and you immediately fall back against the table, your arms still bound behind your back. 

You should be struggling. You should be fighting back.

But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t incredibly turned on by the stellaron hunter who had kidnapped you, and was now apparently intent on interrogating you.

“You’ll….have to try harder than that.” you rasp, trying to sound intimidating. 

By the way Kafka’s smile widens ever so slightly, it’s failed completely, and you’re once again left reeling as she approaches, leaning over you like a cat who’s just caught their mouse.

“Will I?” her voice is so soft, and yet so very dangerous as her ruby eyes narrow in on your face “My…are we a little smitten? Your face is all red.” 

Goddamn it.

“I’d never-”

“Oh don’t be so dramatic.” She interjects as she perches on the edge of the table beside where you lay, she shoots you a look…an expression you can’t quite discern for a moment, until you realise her own eyes are raking down your body.

hungrily.

You watch her bring her hand to her mouth, teeth closing around the finger of her glove before pulling the offending article off; your heart is jackrabbiting in your chest.

“I think…” she hums as she leans back over you, magenta hair falling between you both like a waterfall. This was dangerous, so very dangerous.

But the moment her hand presses against your belly, and slowly begins its slow gaze downward, pressing shamelessly beneath the waistband of your bottoms? You’re a goner.

“I think I have other ways to make you sing that we’ll both enjoy…don't you think?”

Taglist: @stygianoir @meimeimeirin @ainescribe @dustofthedailylife @rjssierjrie @crystalflygeo @angel-of-requiem @asoulsreverie @zomzomb1e Want to be added to the list? shoot me an ask~

And yet, you can't help but miss the times… before.

When you would wander the halls of his domain, only for a strong, darkened arm to reach out from his study or his chambers, catching your waist, your sleeve, the sash of your hafu, and dragging you in. 

You were…unsure what you were exactly to Morax, a lover maybe? Or perhaps simple stress relief? You did not know, and you did not dare to ask. In the end you were one of his Adepti, and you would fight, serve or fall into his embrace, as he commanded.

Rain pelts against your skin as you slowly trudge up the mountain path towards the nearest encampment, carrying an injured comrade with you. Somewhere in the distance, you see Alatus flit past and you wonder just how he manages to maintain such energy, you don't think you’d seen the general stop for a breather the entire time, at least not until he was somewhat gravely injured…and even then he would only rest as little as he had to.

You pass your comrade off to a more capable healer than yourself before going off in search of food. A bath probably should have been first on the agenda but you just…didn’t have the energy in you for it yet, food first, then bath…and maybe if you were lucky, some sleep.

Yeah things don’t go the way you planned. When do they ever?

As you shovel away a quick meal of rice and vegetables, you cant help but feel eyes on you, but between being too tired to look around, and knowing everyone else sitting around you were just as busy shovelling food into your faces, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. That same feeling lingers as you shamble towards a bathing spring, no time to soak, if you wanted a chance at getting some sleep before you were called to action again, you needed to scrub and go, which is exactly what you do. Violently scrubbed clean of dirt, debris and blood, as much as you want to remain, you force yourself from the warm waters, quickly drying off before making for a tent, you didn't care who was in there, you just wanted somewhere sheltered to rest your head.

A hand, warm, familiar and strong, rests upon your shoulder, but in your tired stupor, you swing, intending on hitting away whomever had approached so quietly until your wrist is grabbed.

You knew the glow of these hands anywhere, the geo resonating softly through his veins, and you look up to be met with smouldering amber.

“Morax…” you whisper.

He’s caught somewhere between dragon and man, he has the human visage you are used to, the one he used most often to interact with mortals, but his horns and tail were also visible; his horns glowing a faint golden in the low light of the chilly mountainside. 

You feel his grip tighten on you, his pupils restricting into slits for a mere moment before blowing wide and you can feel the anticipation beginning to run up your spine. Yeah you weren't sleeping tonight.

A beat passes between you both before he turns, tugging you along, out of sight of anyone, out of the encampment entirely, and all you can do is stumble along as his massive hand grips your wrist. He walks these mountains like a flat road, he knew them better than the back of his own hand, his strides are wide, and quick as he leads you further from camp, down a slippery cliff and before you know it, into a cave, only to be pressed against the cool stone wall as he practically hikes you up it, your legs coming to rest around his waist as he holds you there effortlessly.

“My lord-” 

“Shut up.” Morax all but growls back before his lips crash into yours, long, serpentine tongue invading your mouth in a very quickly lost battle of dominance. His hands claw at your robe, tugging the offending garment apart so he can get at your naked body with ease, your own arms moving to wrap around his neck.

gods, you hadn’t realised just how much you needed this.

The longer you spend pressed between your archon’s warm flesh, and the cold stone of the wall, the more the churning arousal in your gut becomes apparent. You’d been fighting for so long you’d absolutely disregarded your body and it’s signals, and judging by how rough Morax was being, one hand gripping your hip tight enough to leave bruises whilst the other shoves his own pants down to his knees, he must have been feeling the same.

“My lord-” you try again, your own hands shifting up to his horns, grabbing hold to at least try and pull him away for a moment so you can breathe.”Take a moment-” “No.” He growls, one hand gripping your hips as a pair of fingers push inside your already embarrassingly wet cunt. “The moment I saw you walk into camp, I couldn’t withhold anymore.” he rumbles, smirking dangerously as he watches your face twist with a mix of pleasure and pain as he splays those long, devilish fingers, after so long, you’re glad he at least had the forwithall to stretch you and take some of the inevitable sting off.

“Your body has toned up some more.” He muses as he continues the rough thrust of his fingers, his own body weight keeping you pressed against the wall as his free hand roams the expanse of your body revealed beneath the robe “and yet, despite all the fighting, your skin still feels like silk.” You can feel your cheeks heating at his surprisingly tender words; there was no small amount of pent up lust edging his tone, and yet he still found time to leave a compliment as his lips descend upon your neck, biting and suckling, leaving a small trail of blooming bruises from your jaw to your collarbone, all while he revels in the breathy gasps and muffled moans he draws from your lips.

That same tenderness doesn’t last long though; the moment he begins to feel you clench around his fingers, hear the way your voice pitches higher, he knew you were close, and instead of simply letting you come, he pulls his fingers out and you whine at him, looking to his face desperately, only to be met with a dark smirk before he quickly, harshly shoves his cock into you, burying all the way to the hilt in one single, harsh thrust that has you screaming, the sudden intrusion enough to send you over that edge as you orgasm around him.

“That's it.” he rumbles at you, his voice caught somewhere between a growl and a purr as his draconic tail lashes behind him, he doesn't give you a chance to catch your breath, his hips setting a brutal pace that has any breath you manage to catch leaving your body just as quickly as you moan into his shoulder. You feel it, every ridge of his inhuman cock, rutting inside of you, a dull aching pain mixed with pure, overwhelming pleasure as Morax growls into your throat, his teeth pressing against your skin, but not quite biting down.

His hands grab your waist, shifting your legs until they’re locked around his hips, just so he can get a better grip on you and take a step back, pulling you from the wall so he can all but bounce you on his cock like you were nothing more than a toy for him. He watches as your eyes roll back, and feels your hands, clinging desperately around his shoulders, one of your fingers finally catching in his hair tie and yanking, you did so love seeing his silky hair free and cascading down his back and shoulders.

Usually, before the war, when he’d pull you in for a night of intimacy, it was a slow affair; he liked to take his time, methodical in every one of his actions. 

That was not the case today.

This was a man pent up, stressed, pulled to the very limits and in desperate need of release, and he knew that just as well as you did. His pace was brutal, ruthless, and you cry for it because you needed this just as much as him, something to take your mind off of all the fighting, all the death and destruction, a moment to feel… mortal.

You only vaguely remember the moment he cums inside you, it’s hot, searingly so and it shoves you right off the edge into your second orgasm as your world turns white, a stark contrast to the drizzly grey day.

You wake, the next morning in a tent, re-clothed, rugged up amongst blankets and pillows, your muscles ached, but when had they not lately? Just some…new kinds of ache that made you realise last night had definitely not been a dream.

As if the impressive amount of hickeys you now had to find a way to hide weren't proof enough of your quick foray with the geo archon himself.

You just hoped the de-stressing had helped clear his head a little, after all, you were there to serve him.

Zhongli

Oh he absolutely knows every possible way to overwhelm you, and he’ll employ every method. Words? Touch? Taste? His massive dick? All of it.

He’s not personally satisfied until you’re trying to claw away from it all, overstimulated and overwhelmed. He’ll let you try and shimmy away from him…only for a little while.

That’s when he turns all sickly sweet, when he bears down and lavishes your neck and shoulders with kisses, strong hands gripping at your hips as he pulls you right back down and onto his cock, grinding deep and slow.

Usually, Zhongli is a gentle, attentive lover. It’s just that sometimes? Sometimes there’s that cruel streak in him, the kind that wants to reduce his partners to nothing but a sobbing, writhing mess, the less coherent, the better.

Only made worse by the fact he can change his size, both in frame and in girth. If you thought his human cock was more than enough, you’ve not met Morax.

And on very rare occasions…the Morax’s. Dragon’s are sometimes known for having more than one dick after all. One bullying your insides while the other grinds against your overstimulated clit? Yikes.

What’s worse? This asshole hasn't even Cum yet.

He has warned you, about the times he seems to simply…vanish for several days, he never tells you where he’s going, but you know why. As much as he loves the concept of pinning you down and breeding you full of his kin…a dragons rut might still be a little too much for a human.

“Where are you off to,darling? We’ve barely gotten started.”

Childe

Childe is a strange one, sometimes he can be the biggest, doofiest, golden retriever of a boyfriend….and sometimes he can be a horrifying horndog…

Sometimes it’s both at once.

Splitting you apart on his cock all while he moans his pleasure into your ear or into your mouth, kissing at your overstimulated tears.

He’s both an intense lover, and a multiple-rounds kinda dude, he’s not satisfied after nutting just once, oh no, he needs more than that.

However, he’s all about making sure you’ve cum first, usually multiple times before he’s even willing to allow himself his first orgasm. All things considered, he has amazing control.

Professional puppy-eyes pouter.

He also just loves to hear you beg. Beg to let you take a break, beg for ‘no more’ with that pretty little voice and those dewey, teary eyes. 

Really you should have learnt by now that all that’s going to do is make him somehow harder.

Sometimes, after a particularly rough day, he finds himself slipping, just a little, his delusion becoming more prevalent. He likes watching you jolt with his little shocks.

Don't worry, even when he’s slightly manic like this, he always has your safety well in mind, as well as the safeword. Always honour the safeword. 

Childe has made it no secret that he desperately wants to fuck you while he’s in his foul legacy form, but you’ve both agreed that, as of right now, that shit would tear you apart. 

“C’mon baby, one more for me? Yeah? Maybe two? No? Oh come on, you’re so pretty when you come though!”

Capitano

This man. This man can, and will, use you as his personal fucktoy, if thats the mood he’s in.

Man’s is so fuckn big he’s like a monolith standing beside you, and there’s nothing to stop him from wrapping a single hand around your waist and manhandling you onto his equally massive dick.

However, he’s not that cruel.

You are one of the only people who know that while yes, his nails are more like claws…he has two that he always, religiously, clips and files.

There’s other uses for that harbinger-issued coat of his…like hiding you within it so he can work you open on those two fingers until you’re a shaking, drooling mess. He doesn’t care where he is; at home? A harbinger meeting? His office? If the mood strikes him, he’s reaching out and pulling you into the depths of that damned coat.

You’re not actually complaining, but damn if trying to keep quiet isnt difficult.

Not many people can claim to understand anything capitano does, it’s impossible to get a read on him from beneath his helmet, but you’ve come to learn, all thing’s considered, he’s actually a very gentle lover.

He does things like grab you and manhandle you like he’s going to do nothing but take. Take hard and take fast…but then he does quite the opposite, slowly grinding his massive cock inside you, it’s excruciating sometimes, but you can't say he’s ever left you unsatisfied.

Sore? Oh yeah. Struggling to walk for the next day? Absolutely. Head empty, no thoughts but that huge schlong doing it again? Always. 

Jing Yuan

Careful hands and soft lips explore your skin, your own hands tugging at his silky soft hair, pulling it free of its tie as you watch a wall of white cascade down his shoulders.

Jing Yuan’s gaze only seems to smoulder more, his smile is soft, but his eyes give away the lust and the intentions as his lips return to yours. He’d been fighting today, you can smell the residual Ozone that always seems to linger on his skin after a fight, mingling with the usual scents of his favourite tea, and freshly polished wood.

“How many Mara-struck today?” you whisper as he pulls back just a hair, enough for you both to catch some air as his hands slide to your waist. 

“Too many.” he responds, his smile never faltering, but you know deep down, he’s so very tired of dealing with it all, which is why you’re always waiting with open arms when he returns home for the evening. Some nights you both simply exist in each other's hold, other nights turn out like this, a more… primal stress relief that neither of you minded. Careful, practised fingers working your clothes off so he could access more; he always wanted more, and you were always happy for him to take as much as he needed.

“I love you.” he murmurs against your collarbone as he settles between your knees, revelling in the soft shudder it sends up your spine, it happens no matter how many times he says it.

“Love you too…” you whisper, tugging his bicep until he comes back up to kiss you again-

Skrrt, skrrt skrrtOh, not again.

“Mimi-” He gasps softly against your lips. The Lion was at the door, again.You hear her familiar, growling moan from behind the door as she continues to scratch at the wood. 

Every. Fucking. Time. 

Skrrt, skrrt skrrrrt.

“Mimiiiii.” you whine in frustration “Not noooow.” “Mrrrrrrrrough.” comes the indignant reply from the other side of the door, which only serves to make your boyfriend snicker. 

“Should we…let her in?” he asks, you look at him in absolute horror.

“No!” you cry at him.

“Why not? She just wants to cuddle.” 

Sometimes, you think your boyfriend is only pretending to be stupidly smart. 

You motion at your naked body, and then at his mostly naked one.

“You see nothing wrong with this!?” you sigh, exasperated when he simply shakes his head.

Another round of scratches at the door, and then a mighty thud, followed by a pitiful, grumbling meow. You knew that thud, that was the ‘I’ve fallen over, come dote on me, dad’ thud.

Jing Yuans golden eyes land on yours again, wide, soft and pleading.

Sometimes you think you let him get away with too much. Then again, it’s always you who ends up receiving most of the aforementioned Lion cuddles at the end of the day.

So perhaps it's you who wins.

Welt

“You’re up late.” the familiar voice calls as you trudge through the parlour car at some ungodly time of the night.

“And so are you, Mr. Yang.” you respond as you quietly sit beside him. 

In the dead of the night, when everyone else was asleep, the parlour car was truly a lovely place to sit and watch the stars.

“Another nightmare?” Welt asks as he gently pushes his glasses up his nose.

“How can you tell?” 

“You learn these things when you’ve been around long enough.” He responds as he leans back against his seat. 

“And what brings you to the parlour car this late in the evening?”

“Just…restless I suppose.” He sighs “Sometimes it’s just nice to sit back and watch the stars.”

You nod, leaning back as well as you both simply sit and admire the view out of the large glass viewing windows, Pom Pom had obviously cleaned them today, not a single streak or speck of dust to be seen. 

Usually, you came to look at the stars after a nightmare to decompress and distract you from them, but tonight it seemed, not even the stars could help you. Your leg is fidgeting, bouncing up and down repeatedly as your mind lingers on darker places, on decisions made and on lives you could have saved-

Until a hand rests on your bouncing leg, and the touch is enough to cease the thoughtline entirely as you look over to the man beside you; he’s watching, his gaze soft, concerned, his thumb slowly rubbing circles along the top of your thigh.

“Sorry, Mr. Yang…” you murmur, “Usually the stars are a good enough distraction…”

He simply shakes his head “Don’t be… and you can call me by my name, you know.” he points out “I don’t know who it was that decided to call me ‘Mr. Yang’ but it’s never bothered me either way.”

You let out a soft noise in response and nod.

“Thank you…Welt.”

At this, he smiles softly, his gaze slowly slipping from you, back out to the stars.

“You said you come here to use the stars as a distraction?” he asks after a long moment of silence.

“Yeah…there's something both…calming, and kinda terrifying about it.” you muse “it’s beautiful, but it also puts things into perspective, we’re just…specks of matter in the grand scheme of things…” 

“And you find that thought…distracting?” He asks with a raised brow.

“I mean…yeah, usually.” you nod as you shrug your shoulders “not tonight apparently.”

Welt hums in thought for a moment.

“Are you still in need of a distraction?” He asks after a moment.

“I mean…if the stars aren’t gonna do it, I don't know what will- mph!” Your sentence is cut off as nothing but a surprised squeak, you’d been so unfocused as you stared out at the universe, you hadn’t noticed him leaning closer until his lips pressed over your own. 

Something sparks inside you both, how long has it been since either of you had done anything like this? What was meant to be a simple kiss, breaks for a moment, lips an inch apart as you both blink. 

And then your on eachother like rabid animals, the next series of kisses only growing rougher as you find yourself pushed back against the plush seats of the parlour car. You grip at Welt’s jacket as his cane clatters to the floor. 

Somewhere amongst it all, you both regain enough faculty to move from the car and to welt’s room, neither of you wanted to deal with Pom Pom yelling about any mess when he woke up.

You wake the next morning to Welt sitting on the edge of his bed, stroking your hair, and you realise your mistake, what would the others say if they saw you leaving Welt’s room? 

“Stay here, you should be safe to leave in fifteen minutes. March 7th is already up, and Himeko is like clockwork.” He tells you softly, seemingly reading your thoughts. 

He leaves you then, after pressing a short kiss to your temple.

This may have been the first intimate encounter with the enigmatic Mr. Yang

But it certainly was not the last.

Lan

Lan, Aeon of the hunt, Archer lord of fate.

Never in your life did you think you would be standing before his mighty presence.

He stamps a single, mighty hoof and you kneel, he needn’t say anything, his sheer power alone was enough to command respect.

So colour yourself surprised when the indomitable god of the hunt lifts you, One of his mighty hands easily wrapping around your waist and pulling you from the ground.

He has no discernable face as he holds you up, only the sleek, black facets of the horned mask, even still, you can feel something akin to hot breath ghosting over your body as he holds you. It’s impossible to tell what he’s feeling, is he angry? Pleased? 

And then he does something… unexpected. 

He tilts his head at you, curious, almost confused at your presence. 

With a gulp, you slowly reach out, your hand caressing one of the facets of his mask, and you feel his massive frame shudder as one of his hooves gives another stamp; you couldn’t kneel this time, so you simply continue, hoping that it’s what he wanted. 

It seems like second nature when he pulls you even closer, to press your lips against the mask, your hands gently tugging at strands of his cosmic hair, it feels soft in your fingers. And yet also feels noncorporeal, as if it would simply vanish if you clutched at it too tightly. The massive lord lets out what you can only describe as a hum.

“Good…” 

It’s the only word he utters, but to hear it, and for it to be directed at you? 

It might as well have been the only word you’ve ever heard.

You feel his other hand as it begins to explore, as if the mighty lord had never actually laid hands on a mere mortal before, and you let him do as he will. You feel his fingers roam across skin and tear at your clothing, all while you grip at his hair, one of your hands eventually coming to grab at one of his horns, just seeking a more corporeal anchor point.

That is, until Lan shudders once more, dragging your body down his torso, until something slides between your thighs.

“Good….”

Ok but like, Zhongli in nothing but loose grey sweatpants that hang low on his hips, w the waistband of his black boxers riding just that little bit higher is one thing.

But imagine it's early morning, you both get up, li has to head off to work before you as always so he rolls over, kisses you, and makes for the shower

you cant tell me he's not a shower before bed and then again in the morning dude, go to bed clean, and then be fresh for the day as well.

Meanwhile you sleepily roll out of bed and make for the kitchen to make some tea and breakfast, clad in nothing but one of Zhongli's old shirts, it's long enough to essentially be a short dress on you anyway.

You're still making that tea when your husband emerges from the bathroom in a billow of steam and you see it out of the corner of your eye.

Long hair flowing down his back and chest, still damp.

His white towel is tied low on his hips, revealing his sculpted torso and belly.

God you could stare at that happy trail all day.

Especially with half-hard dick tenting the front of his towel, the cotton only keeping him modest by a thread.

You're not even mad when strong arms wrap around your waist and that hardon is pressed against your ass.

The stolen shirt is really only for the neighbors sake, if they think you're wearing anything under it, they're sorely mistaken.

Zhongli rumbles softly as he perches his chin on your shoulder, turning to press a kiss to your cheek.

He's already got his cologne on, it's your favorite one too, which absolutely does not help the already growing arousal between your legs.

Zhongli, despite having to get up so early, isnt much of a morning person. his breath is still low and husky with sleep as he nibbles at your neck with a soft "Good morning, my love."

You're sure he does it because he likes feeling you shiver, especially once his poor towel gives up, and you feel his rock-hard cock rub between your buttcheeks.

Needless to say, you'll have to remake the tea after this...because if you think Zhongli isnt about to bend you over and have you right there? you are very wrong.

You had never entertained the thought of hiring a live-in personal butler until one of your friends had mentioned it. She’d gone on and on about how her much time having one had saved, and how it gave her the peace of mind to relax every once in a while, a luxury you can't remember the last time you afforded as the ceo of a major company, sure you had secretaries, but they only worked within the firm, and your life?

God you needed a secretary for life.

Even then. It took you a few more months to finally cave and look into it. The agency you find has raving reviews; there’s an interview process, which takes another few weeks for you to finally sit down and do. They ask you many questions about your lifestyle, and what you need out of their service, and then it’s left in their hands.

And so, a week later, you receive a knock at your door.

Tall, sharp features, immaculately dressed.

But his eyes.

Holy shit his eyes.

Molten gold, almost shimmering in the morning light as your new butler bows to you.  One gloved hand over his heart.

“Good morning Miss. My name is Zhongli.The agency has analysed your lifestyle and have thus extended your contract to me.” He explains.

Well damn, in the looks department alone you’d be leaving them a five-star review.

—

Your first proper morning with Zhongli working for you was…hectic.

Your morning alarm didn’t go off, thankfully your body-clock was pretty on point, but still, you’d slept in ten whole minutes, throwing off your schedule.

You barely even noticed that your clothes had already been laid out in the bathroom as you whirlwind through your bedroom to get ready, simply picking up the neatly folded pile as you went.

You resign yourself to a breakfast smoothie as you flurry into the kitchen, you simply didnt have any time to cook, and you’d have to clean the blender when you got home-

“Ah, good morning Miss. I trust you slept well?” Zhongli asks as he places down a plate of bacon and eggs at your usual spot in the breakfast nook. You stop, blinking at him with wide eyes.

“W-whats that?” you ask him, brain still not quite with it yet.

“Breakfast?” He counters with a tilt of his head. “Simply one of my duties.”

Right…

Right you had a secretary for your life now…

And fuck, he could cook.

You don't remember the last time you’d sat down, in your own house, eating a hot, home cooked meal for breakfast…usually it was toast, or if you didn’t have time to sit, the aforementioned smoothie that you really hated, but it was better than nothing, because when else would you have time to eat during the day?

But no, breakfast had been made for you, served with coffee and even the morning newspaper. Zhongli looks…immaculate as always, smile on his face as he cleans up and announces he will be awaiting you in the car.

That first day…no, the first week was such a learning curve… between him driving you everywhere, keeping you blessedly on time for your meetings, he also seemed to know exactly what you needed, sometimes before even you knew.

He sometimes appears with a small plate of cookies, and a mug of hot coffee, made just the way you like it,  just as your mood was beginning to wane, and immediately you feel better. 

As the weeks stretch on and deadlines draw closer, you find that he’s also an amazing sounding board, and your nights become a little less weary with someone else there to fill the silence, even as he silently goes about tidying your home, he’s never too far away.

—

Something around the latter half of the year just really made all your client’s extra demanding. 

Your staff were overworked.

You were overworked.

You find yourself staying up later and later into the night, going over plans and documents, trying to sort all of this…this mess into something cohesive for both yourself and your poor staff.

You rub at your temples with a ragged sigh. What time was it now? You don't think you want to know… 

A soft clink beside you draws your attention to a fresh cup of tea and you startle.

“Oh, Zhongli…I-I thought you’d be asleep by now..” you murmur softly, leaning back in your chair. Your butler simply smiles at you, even now at god-knows-what time passed midnight, he was still dressed in his usual work suit. “You should be too, Miss.” he tells you softly, but not condescendingly, like a worried friend.

“I cant yet.” you sigh, motioning to the armageddon of papers strewn across your desk “I need to get this sorted before the next review meeting but…augh I dunno…I just…I cant concentrate.”

“That would be because you are stressed, and tired.” Zhongli points out, chuckling softly at your side eye before he shifts, walking around your desk to come to a stop behind your chair. “Here… perhaps this will help…” he murmurs more to himself than to you, and suddenly his hands are on your shoulders, lithe, careful fingers pressing into your trapezius muscles. You grunt and wince a little, having been totally unaware of how tense your shoulders had been until now.

“Shh, just take a deep breath and relax.” Zhongli’s deep voice rumbles behind you as he slowly massages at the tension, his hands are gentle, but expert, and it takes you longer than it should to realise that he's not wearing his gloves for this. “Now…tell me what the matter is…”

With another set of eyes, and a clear explanation of what you need, by the time he’s worked all the tension from your shoulders, you’ve finally got a clear plan, and immediately set to work sorting and organising the moment his warm, surprisingly soft hands finally leave your shoulders.

Once all is said and done, you turn to your butler.

“Thank you, Zhongli…I…don't think I could have done that without you here.”

You’re met with a dashingly handsome, genuine smile, and a graceful bow of his head.

“It was my pleasure, Miss. I am here to aid your every whim.” 

—

Meeting after meeting after meeting.

If you had to speak to one more person demanding things of you and your company today, you were going to scream. The sight of your black sedan, waiting dutifully for you outside the sliding glass doors at the end of the day was almost enough to make you cry as you all but collapse into the back seats with a groan.

“How were the investors today, Maam?” Zhongli asks, a twinkle of amusement in his eyes as he watches you in the rear-view.

“They could invest in some chill.” you mutter, taking a few moments before forcing yourself to sit up, knowing full well Zhongli wouldn’t move this car an inch until you had your seatbelt on.

“I hazard to say you could also do with, as you say, some chill.” He adds as he easily merges into the busy afternoon traffic. “You’re working yourself to the bone.”

“It’s just another month.” you sigh “investors always get antsy this time of year…”

“You said that last month too, you know.”

“Did I?” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose “Hey…when we get home…could I have another one of those massages?”

You loathe to admit how…reliant you had become on Zhongli’s ability to get the tension out of your shoulders, ever since that first night when he’d helped sort out your work with you, you’d been asking every other day or so for one, it was just so nice to relax into his care while you vented the day’s frustrations away, or soundboarded with him.

“Oh I think I can manage that.”

“Where would I be without you…?” you mumble softly as you let your eyes shut for a moment, just a moment to rest your aching eyes.

As it stands, that moment ends when Zhongli’s gentle hand on your arm rouses you. “Wh-wassgoinon?” you mumble, looking around.

“We’re home, Miss….you looked like you needed the rest so I didn’t rouse you.” Zhongli murmurs softly, reaching past you to fetch your bag.

He smells of tea, and spices…warm…comforting. 

—

You groan softly as his fingers press insistently into your shoulders.

“You’re extra tense today…” Zhongli murmurs softly, leaning over to look you in the face “are you alright?”

“I-I…yeah…just…stressed I think.” you sigh, leaning your head to the side so he can get better access to your neck. You’d never admit it, but you were pretty sure at this point you were just craving his touch, you just…didn't have the time for skinship these days, how you’d managed to survive before hiring him? You had no idea.

Behind you, Zhongli hums.

“May I try…something different?” He asks quietly, rather unlike him, usually when he did something, he did it with confidence that you would be alright with it, and so far he’d never been wrong…why ask now? “I think your stress runs deeper than a simple shoulder massage can handle.” he adds when you look over your shoulder at him. 

“I mean…I trust your judgement Zhongli…whatever you think I need…” you mumble.

You expect a change in his technique, maybe working a little further down your spine perhaps?.

Not to suddenly be thrown forward, chest pressed against the dark mahogany of your desk by a single,strong hand against your spine to keep you there as you gasp in shock. 

“Z-Zhongli!?” you gasp, looking over your shoulder at your calm, gentle butler. 

Only to find a sharp, seductive smirk plastered to his lips. His golden eyes are dark, predatory, you should be afraid.

Keyword: Should.

You watch, dumbstruck as he licks his lips, ripping your jeans straight off your legs like they were nothing, his ungloved hand grazing up the back of your thigh, and that touch alone has your eyes rolling back and a half-bitten moan falling from your lips. Gods how long had it been?

“Hmm, needy little thing, aren’t we? Thrown against your desk by your own butler and you don't even have the decency to be afraid?” Zhongli chuckles darkly as he shoves two fingers into you; the mix of pleasure and pain is enough to have your spine arching “Looks like I was right…you do need more than a little massage hm?”

“G-god…please…” you whine, the humiliation of the situation only making you hotter as he roughly thrusts his fingers, occasionally scissoring them to stretch you open, his other hand shifting from your spine to wrap around the base of your neck, holding you still as he works you open. 

This new, rougher side to him…you didn’t know you wanted it...but god damn he was driving a hard bargain, plus it’s not like this wasn't something you may have thought about on a rare occasion or three… you’d just expected it to be…slower, gentler, but this? You could work with this. 

“Please…? Please what?” he purrs, leaning over to nip at your ear “what do you want from me? I am at your every beck and call.” His words are low, dangerous, but genuine, and you shudder.

“You-!” you choke “please g-god, Z-Zhongli I want you to fuck me-”

One moment there’s fingers, the next moment nothing, and you want to cry, the petulant whine only being held back by the sound of a belt buckle.

“Well, I suppose it’s a good thing I’m at your service.” 

And then he roughly bucks his hips and good gods. 

Considering he wore such fitted trousers, where the hell had he been keeping that??

That mix of pleasure-pain is back, but more intense this time; you definitely had not been wet enough, and yet? You wouldn't have wanted it any other way, the pain added it’s own flavour to your desire as Zhongli pins you against your desk, breathing ragged into your ear as he wastes no time, setting a brutal pace from the start that has papers and stationary clattering off your desk. 

“So tight” he hisses “how long has it been since you’ve had a good fucking?” 

Something about Zhongli swearing like that feels so wrong, but oh, so right in the moment.

For a moment, paperwork and meetings are the furthest thing from your mind as Zhongli shoves you even further onto your desk, free hand hiking your hips up so he can slam into you all the harder, the only sounds emanating within your study are the wet slapping of skin, and your cries of ecstasy. 

He’s not gentle, and deep, deep down, you’re glad for it.

You needed this, spending every damn day for the last five years telling everyone else what to do? You needed this…loss of control.

Much like everything else in the last six months, Zhongli knew exactly what you needed, when you needed it, and before you even realised you needed it. 

“Whats the matter? Nothing to say?” He grunts into your ear as he grinds himself so deep into you, you’re seeing stars. “You’re always so talkative…”

You can only moan pathetically in response, eyelids fluttering as he fucks you down into the table, his words are harsh, and humiliating, but all they do is draw your orgasm closer, barely even registering what he’s saying.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, one moment you’re seeing stars as your butler bullies his massive cock into you, the next minute your world turns white.

—

“Shh, try not to move…I wasn’t gentle with you.” Zhongli’s tone is back to being kind and gentle after…how many orgasms did he just force you through? You’d lost count…all you know was that it had still been light out when he’d first shoved you down…now as he passes by a window with you cradled gently in his arms, it was pitch black outside.

Gentle lips press to your temple as he perches on the edge of the bathtub, holding you on his lap with one arm while he reaches over to get the water started. Wetting a washcloth to clean away a good portion of the mess beforehand.

Your body aches, but in the best possible way. You feel…breathless and comfortable, fuzzy. 

You wince as he lowers you into the hot water, your muscles tensing at the sudden heat before relaxing again. Zhongli watches you with a soft look. Even coming off the back end of some amazing sex, he still somehow managed to look stupidly put together, if not even more alluring with his lack of suit jacket; it had been abandoned sometime during round… three you think? One moment it was on, the next moment, you’re being pressed onto your back, the jacket is gone, and he’s rolled the sleeves of his dress shirt up to his elbows and you’re at his mercy.

The lip of a water bottle presses to your lips, his other hand gently supporting the back of your head as you drink.

“How do you feel?” he asks once you’ve drunk your fill for now, like that switch that had turned him from the kind and courteous butler you had known to….whatever that zhongli was, had never flipped at all.

Despite this, you smile at him.

“I feel like…I need to ask you to do that again more often, Zhongli.” 

To his credit, your ever-so-handsome butler laughs. It’s a warm, hearty sound, one that fills you with no small amount of joy.

“I am here to serve your every beck and call, I’m sure I can work this into the schedule.”