. . .pairing: Dainsleif X Reader. . .cw: Fluff, Slight Angst But In A Good Way. Reader Is Implied To

. . .pairing: dainsleif x reader . . .cw: fluff, slight angst but in a good way. reader is implied to be from khanri'ah . . .a/n: inspired by a korean flower meanings chart. (Great Maiden's Blush: you are the only one who understands me')

dainsleif's breaths are soft against your ear, arms gentle around you as you drift in and out of sleep.

there's something about the depth of this night. something about the deep, deep blue that caves up towards the sky, something about the dancing stars that wink and flutter in their heavenly heights.

you don't think much of it when his lips press a soft kiss to your cheek, or when he cradles your hand in his, brushing his thumb over your skin.

he comes closer, presses himself closer against you, whispering words to you that are secret to the rest of the world.

"you are the only one who understands me."

you hope he doesn't hear the way tears choke in your throat in the same way that he hopes you know of the raw emotion that grips his heart.

taglist: @tiredsleep @serenenation @xienn @azureexursion @surukaze @yuzuricebun @uchihaeirin @loptido

if you want thirst I’ll give you thirst 😭 maid!reader walking in on their master jerking off 🫠 can be anyone idc

“You Called, Master?”

part one (cont.) / part two

characters: albedo, ayato, childe, dainsleif, diluc, kaeya

summary: maid!reader walks in on their master getting off.

genre: smut

warnings: afab!reader (no pronouns); pet names (darling, dear, love), unprotected, overstim (dain), master-maid dynamic

note: head in hands,, i didn’t even finish reading this before my brain went DING‼️ DING‼️ DING‼️ like a thirsty mf 🫠 also guys i am on my knees BEGGING for more dain content please i will give you my c6 xingqiu 🙏

you just had to be so good and obedient for him, didn’t you? getting on your knees and smiling sweetly after walking in on him fucking his fist in his office. giving his tip kitten licks and sucking on it, holding his shaft with both your hands and teasing him. it’s only when you lower your head and feel his cock hit the back of your throat that your master lets out a low moan. his gloved hands find purchase in your hair, pushing you down ‘till you’re gagging on his dick. oh, how your lips feel divine wrapped around him.

— diluc is gentle, letting praise fall off his tongue between every labored breath. “so good…” “you’re doing so well…” “just like that, dear…” he pushes your hair to the side and watches you suck him off, groaning when you moan so prettily around his cock. even amidst his pleasure he notices the way you rub your thighs together. “get me off with your mouth, and i’ll fill your pretty little cunt as a reward,” he promises. you swirl your tongue around his length and let him use your throat as he pleases, all with the hope of being stuffed full. and, when diluc does cum on your tongue, he keeps that promise. with your back pressed against the polished wood of his desk, diluc bunches up your frilly uniform at your hips and yanks your panties down your thighs. you let out such a sweet moan when he penetrates you, the leather of his gloves pressing into your hips so tightly to keep you still. the way your slick walls took him in so deep made his head spin. “m’gonna fill you up now, okay? you deserve a reward for being so good for me…”

— ayato is a tease above all, even in a situation like this. with you on your knees in front of him, moaning and drooling while he treats your throat like a toy. he can’t help the amused chuckle that falls from his parted lips when he notices your squirming. “go on, darling… get yourself off.” ayato watches you slip your hand under your skirt, pushing your panties aside just enough to slide two fingers inside your cunt. another sweet moan vibrates against his length, and he almost pulls you off his dick to fuck you himself. almost. “such an obedient little maid, hmm?” he teases you as if he isn’t affected by the situation. “i should have asked you to suck me off a long time ago…” he muses, pulling you by your hair off his length. ayato uses his thumb to keep your lips parted as he cums on your tongue, the possessive spark in his eyes igniting when you cum on your fingers at nearly the same time. “such obedience deserves more ceremony than this, don’t you think? sit on my lap, dear - let me give you a reward worthwhile.”

he didn’t need a maid, you were well aware of that when you took this job. your master kept you around because he enjoyed having something pretty to look at when he came home, and you did a wonderful job keeping the place clean for him. being the only servant in the home meant not needing to worry so much about “professionalism,” and your master took advantage of that on every occasion. still, you never expected to walk in on him getting himself off. just like every other household duty, satisfying your master was left to you.

— kaeya let out a pleased hum as you lowered onto his cock, your fingers pushing your panties aside to make room for him. you pulled your hand away and dug your nails into his shoulders once he was fully sheathed in your cunt, letting out a breathy moan when he rolled his hips into yours. his hands rested against your lower back and under your ass, giving you little time to prepare before he started bouncing you up and down his length. kaeya spoke right next to your ear and teased you incessantly. “you– hah, fuck– you’re really enjoying this, huh? you love serving your master like this?” his teasing words all but disappeared when you circled your hips and started bouncing yourself. instead of playful remarks and comments, kaeya was praising you like no other. “keep going, just like that… you’re so good, love…” he groaned, rutting into you like a man depraved. he pulled out, stroking his shaft a few times and releasing on your clean uniform. he looked at you with amused smirk as you tried to get up. “oh, you thought that we were done? i still need your services, love.”

— childe pressed your face into the cotton pillow, muffling your moans as he sunk into you with a single thrust. “ahh, this is what i’ve been waiting for.” he declared, wrapping his hand around your hair and pressing his palm into your shoulder. “obedience is so wonderful, isn’t it?” you could hardly form a coherent thought with your master setting a brutal pace, the sound of his hips slapping against your ass being the only thing you could focus on. you tried to match his pace, tried to meet his hips with your own, but he leaned over your back and chuckled next to your ear. “no need to think about anything else right now,” his arm wrapped around your body and reached for your clit, rubbing fast circles on the sensitive bud and making you sob into the pillow. “that’s it, just fall apart…” childe cooed in your ear, his sweet voice starkly contrasting the way he fucked your cunt like it was his only chance to do so. “i’ve got a lot of fantasies to live out tonight, so don’t get too lost in the pleasure just yet…”

your master was seldom home - you often wondered why he employed you at all. if you ever questioned his reasons, he would simply brush you off and say that your services were necessary. judging by the collection of antiques, documents, and other items that filled the shelves of his home, you were left to assume that your master employed you to keep those items safe. and, despite seeing little of him, you had developed a number of fantasies about him. somehow, being laid out atop his underused bed with his head between your legs was not one of them.

— albedo claimed it was all for an “experiment,” but his notebook had long been discarded on the floor. he took your clit between his lips and lavished it with his tongue, sliding two fingers inside your slick folds and curling his fingers up. you bit your hand to keep from sobbing his name, whimpering when he pulled away and stared you down. “don’t silence yourself. if you do, then i won’t let you touch me,” you knew that his threat was true - as albedo resumed his ministrations, scissoring his fingers and licking a stripe up to your clit, flicking it with the tip of his tongue, you let out a series of whiny moans. he pulled back just enough to speak, his hot breath fanning over you. “see, was that so difficult?” his skilled fingers were soon joined by a third, making you arch your back as your walls clenched around them. albedo hummed around your clit and pressed his free hand into your stomach to keep you from wiggling too much as you came. “hmm, interesting… but, i think i may need to run this experiment a few more times.”

— dainsleif was the most enigmatic of all - despite rarely saying more than a word to you, he was straightforward when telling you to sit on his face. now, he had your thighs in an iron grip as he licked into your pussy like it was ambrosia. you could do little but grip the headboard and tug at his messy locks, your moans bordering on sobs of your master’s name. he laid his head back against the pillow and huffed, clearly annoyed. “i told you to sit, not hover. listen to me when i give you orders.” dainsleif pulled your hips down and pressed your cunt against his lips, caring not for his own neglected cock or need for air. he let out a low groan and pressed his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles around it while his tongue dipped into your folds once more. you wriggled your hips and tried to ride his tongue, but to no avail; your master was far stronger than the average man. even when you came on his face, he continued his abuse of your cunt, licking and sucking up everything you had to offer and coating his chin in your slick. only when you whimpered and begged him to stop did he pull away to catch his breath, chuckling softly at your panting and pretty whines. “no need to worry about me… i’m quite alright staying here for the rest of the night.”

a/n: i have never responded to an ask so quickly… what does this say about me and my blog. 🫥

i know we as a collective society believe in gamer! eren supremacy. and yes, this is a good take. however, may i introduce to you: normie/fuckboy/jock eren with gamer/nerd gf. thoughts under the cut (safe for work, pg-13, also slight snk spoilers for season 3 and up!)

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honey, call me honey

summary: kaeya’s presence has always soothed you, grounded you against the fraying whiplash of the storm. until it doesn’t, and suddenly you’re untethered, trying to find your way back.

pairing + wc: kaeya x gn reader, 5.8k

genre: hurt/comfort, miscommunication/misunderstanding trope

tw: anxiety, overthinking

notes: i hate the miscommunication trope but for kaeya it made too much sense. this is mostly just some baseless hurt/comfort and a character study. listen to honey by trace while u read (if u want) ty to @reddriot and jupiter for beta help ♡ there’s a taglist for on my pinned post if u so desire ?

you’ve just finished clearing out a hilichurl camp - it was easy work, the rain made your electro vision particularly powerful - and you’re heading back to the knights’ headquarters. rain slicks the road with mud, your boots slip and your clothes are soaked, but it’s quiet out. the skies are dark with an oncoming storm. something tugs inside your chest; you can feel the lightning building in the air, it fizzes on your tongue like champagne or the numbing spices in liyuen cuisine.

the guards at mondstadt’s gates greet you, tucked back under the eaves of the guard towers so as to avoid the rain. you wave back - it barely qualifies as a wave, just a hesitant hand raise as you glance up and then train your gaze back on the muddy ground. water runs between the cobblestones of the street. you track it with your eyes; you don’t need to look up to get back to headquarters, back to kaeya.

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i know it doesn’t fit in with the vibes of the era that inazuma is based on but consider ayato having an outlander spouse from somewhere like monstadt that does have a corset-adjacent kind of dress . . . he seems the kind who’d like it laced just a little too tightly and hearing you get breathless and seeing your eyelashes flutter when he dies fuck you in it.

as an actual royal guard dain also fits the ‘knight helping a royal lace their corset’ so well . . . so strong and silent and reliable . . . and though some memories fade, the laces in his hands are still as familiar as ever even if you’re (prettier, more wantable, more his) different from the royal family he once served. he will still serve you. unlacing the corset is just as familiar.

diluc helping you get dressed, dismissing your ladies maid . . . the ribbons of your corset are always needing replacements; the maids just don’t understand how they get scorched so often—

and. of course. zhongli. taking his slow, careful time with it all. lingering on every tightening and every loosening; his desire to manage you a little extending to dressing and undressing you even if it will in the end be only for his eyes.

10:00 PM

You had agreed to meet him in your dorm room at 10 p.m.

It's half-past eight, and you've been alone with your thoughts for far too long. There were no messages, not even from your friends. Of course, it's not because they dislike you. Everyone is just too preoccupied with final exams right now. You should probably study for yours, but you believe the three days you've spent cooped up in your room have prepared you enough, if not too much.

The internet connection in the dorm building is agonizingly slow, allowing your show to run at 480 frames per second.

I can’t even finish this god damned episode.

You made the decision to leave your room before going insane. There’s a lounge on the second floor of your building, so you decided to head there.

The room has bean bags, couches, a table, some seats, a vending machine, and a TV. It's nine in the evening, you've had your dinner, so you've settled on some chips. You chose to sit on the brown leather couch in front of the TV, your legs resting on the sofa's arms. Because students aren't allowed to change the channel, you're stuck watching the news.

Well, it’s not like I have anything better to do.

A couple of minutes later, two students enter the room. They're giggling all the way to the table, their arms locked. You give them a quick glance before averting your gaze to avoid drawing unwanted attention to yourself. You return your gaze to the television and see a man being arrested for drug use in a bar's staff room.

Soon enough, the giggles become too loud, interfering with your ability to watch in peace.

Can’t they fucking do this someplace else?

You glance at the couple and see them eating each other’s faces out. But instead of being more frustrated, your mind wanders over a certain boy.

The two of you had no label for whatever you two had. Just people who are more than friends but less than lovers. It's not like you were keeping it from everyone or your friends. You had just agreed to keep it that way. The reason for so, though, was uncertain. Perhaps out of fear? Fear of what others would say, or fear that if you made it known to everyone and things went bad, it would be absolutely embarrassing. But maybe you both just wanted each other for yourself. Who knows.

He isn't unpopular. Girls are definitely lining up for him. When he gets tired of you, it won't be long before there's a replacement for you right by his side. The most daunting aspect of it all is that you already have a female candidate in mind for the position. She's been suspicious of you both ever since she saw you holding hands in a café. She's also very attractive. And smart. And incredibly fucking kind. That is the most upsetting aspect of it all. She’s a sweet girl. She’s known him since freshman year and developed a much-too-obvious crush on him.

You admit that in some aspects, she’s definitely better than you.

Hell, if I were him, I’d choose her.

So tonight, you think. Think of where he is. Is she there by his side, as she should be? Is he entertaining her? Is she making him happy? These awful thoughts linger in your mind for the remainder of your stay in the dorm lounge, with the TV playing in the background and the giggles of that damned couple who prompted this dilemma.

Fuck, it’s quarter to ten. I’m gonna be late.

And so he runs.

He’s been at the bar since 5. As a reward for finishing the exam, a group of his classmates invited everyone out for a drink. Mr. Congeniality that he is, he gladly joins in. The girl he’s known since freshman year sticks by his side. She’s nice, he thinks. However, a distinct image of someone comes to mind. He glances at his watch, which reads 8:30 p.m.

To be honest, he's tired of it. The party, the people, and the beverages. All he can think about right now is leaving this bar and going back to their dorm. Eating take-out together, watching random Youtube videos on their bed, and keeping them close enough to smell that fresh coconut shampoo they use that he loves so much. But it would be too weird.

Because they aren't his significant other, arriving early would be too obvious. He clearly likes them more than he's letting on. But he's not sure how much longer he can go on like this. Clandestine meetings and longing gazes. He wants to walk around campus with them, post pictures of their dates, and let everyone know that he already belongs to someone else.

The bartender's yell snaps him out of his trance. He tries to approach the commotion to find out what's going on, leaving his spot and the girl behind. He stands on his toes as he sees one of his classmates being dragged out by the bouncers. Soon after, sirens and the all-too-familiar red and blue lights appear. He learns from others that the man who was just dragged out and is now being arrested was doing drugs in the staff room. Fucking moron. Now he really wants to go.

He goes outside to wait for a cab. But so is everyone else. And, being the gentleman that he is, he allows everyone to hail a cab first. Moments later, the girl who had been by his side earlier approaches him and asks if he wants to share a cab with her because they live close together. He refuses, claiming that he has someone waiting for him. Which is a lie, and in retrospect, a better option than where he is now.

Running.

Waiting for a cab made the time fly quickly, and now he was running late. He really doesn't want to let them down and make them feel unimportant. They were so far away from it. If they had texted him and he was on the other side of the world, he would immediately book a flight to meet them.

He calls them, hoping they'll understand that he'll be late. Unfortunately, he only gets a dial tone. He tries again and comes up short. He considers calling them again, but this may be too clingy of him.

So he keeps running until he sees that familiar building, which strangely makes him smile. In his mind, he laughs at how mundane things have become extraordinary simply because of them.

You are startled awake. Shit, I fell asleep. When you look at the time, it's five to ten. You make your way quickly out of the lounge, shaking your head as you pass the couple passed out by the bean bags. And, to make matters worse, the elevator is being repaired. As a result, you begin your journey by ascending several flights of stairs.

By the time you make it to your floor, you’re completely out of breath.

I probably look fucking insane right now.

You make your way to your room to prepare for a bit before he comes. However, the universe had other plans for you.

Just when you turned towards the hallway where your dorm is, he stood there, almost mirroring your condition. He's heaving, his hair is stuck to his brow, and his hands are on his knees.

You take a few tentative steps forward. He looks up, sees you, and smiles. You do the same and ask as to why he looks tired.

"I- uh, used the stairs because your elevator wasn't working," he says, not making eye contact with you, which usually means he's lying. But you remain silent and hum in agreement.

You nod towards your door, inviting him to enter and follow you.

If I told them I ran from the bar, I’m actually fucked. Whipped son of a bitch.

He follows them in and heads straight for their bed. He believes that this bed is softer than the expensive one he has at home and that it must feel like a cloud.

Like routine, they head to the bathroom to freshen up, and he looks for a shirt of his in their drawer. While waiting, he sets up the movie and orders some food.

They emerge from the bathroom, and he believes it would be fine if he died right now. He doesn't mind if he ends up in hell because he's already seen an angel.

They settle in the bed, with him enclosing them in their arms.

“How was your day?” He asks, trying to beat the awkward silence.

“It was alright. I was busy all night studying.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me asking.. Uh, where did you come from when I saw you in the hallway?”

Their eyes seem to widen a bit as if caught in the act. “Oh, I just gave my friend my notes at the lobby.”

With no energy to pry further, he nods and moves to turn the movie volume up.

As the credits roll, you turn your head to face the body that is enclosing yours. He's fast asleep with his arm around your waist.

You admire him in this way, but you think it's too domestic. But you'd give anything to sleep every night and wake up to this every morning. But you know all too well that by the time the sun rises, like clockwork, he will rise and move so as not to wake you, but you always are.

With eyes closed, you silently beg for him not to go, and just this once, to stay. To hear him say he feels the same way you do and that all your doubts were just you rationalizing.

He is jolted awake by that familiar alarm. He carefully gets out of bed and never forgets the part of his routine of looking at you asleep, a picture that will stay with him all day. He notices the polaroid picture of you two on the night you met as he grabs his shirt from the top of your drawer. As he gazes out the window, he decides to be brave and make an exception today.

He returns beside you, enveloping you in his arms and burying his head in your neck. And, ever so gently, he says,

“Just tell me you love me already. Please, please, please."