SYNOPSIS: after numerous failed arranged marriages set up by your parents, you thought the one with the vice-captain would follow the same pattern. you're proven wrong when he subverts what an expected greeting should be given.
𖥔 WORDCOUNT: 3.3k (pls give it a chance...) ┆ 𖥔 TAGS. @millurie @axolotsofluv @tragedy-of-commons @al97649 @bisouyuo @aritsukemo -> come join the taglist here!
𖥔 WARNINGS: mentions of beer and drinking, reader is from snezhnaya and has a dendro vision, reader also has lowkey/implied mommy issues, mentions blood and a wound, arrange marriages obv, cameo for varka, ragbros, jean, lisa, and albedo; not fully proofread; expect mistakes!
♪ FINAL NOTES .ᐟ this one is for my fav lohen kissers ari and yuomi 🤍🤍i genuinely didn't expect for this to b this long but oh well. art credits: @.su3ka_ on x!
"you are to be wedded to the vice-captain of the fifth company."
that's how it all began — a simple dinner with your parents as they dropped the bomb of your new marriage candidate. you tried your best not to appear vexed. keyword: tried. but unlike you're ever admirable cousin, jean, your face gave away more than your words ever could.
your brow twitched, the small fork in your hand clattered to the porcelain plate. your mother threw a disapproving glare, while your father coughed into his fist. "now, [name], my dear—"
"don't "my dear" me, father." you bark out, "what happened to giving up on setting me up for another failing marriage."
"you haven't even met the vice-captain," he argued.
you rolled your eyes in bemusement, "and you have? what happened to not involving yourself with 'pitiful, mongering barbarian?""
"your marriage has been decided," he stated sternly. he set his utensils with force enough to rattle the entire table as he raised his head like he always did when someone challenged his authority as a duke. "you are to be wed to vice-captain lohen." a tired sigh escaped him, a gloved hand pinched between his brows as he heard you stand from your seat and dash out the dining room. "arranged marriages aren't all so bad, [name]!"
"not all bad, you say?!" you shouted from across the corridor. "take a look at your relationship with mother before you say that!"
your family arrived in mondstadt at dawn. the trip to dorman port was as you expected—humid, and all too bright in comparison to the snow of snezhnaya. the people smiled often, too, you noticed. well, you supposed this was the land of freedom after all. you're quite tempted to see where the winds would take you when all you've grown up with are the blizzards and snowstorms that knock at your windows like an incessant friend who can't take no for an answer.
still, despite your curiosity about what the wild berries in the bushes would taste like, you willed your feet to stay rooted at the docks. your father greeted everyone as usual; your mother hid half her face in disdain behind her fan. like you, she had a lot to say about the weather, but you doubt she'd sugarcoat any unpleasant comments she had. people have told you that you took after her the most — too straightforward, too quippy, too wild to be a duke's heir.
"and you must be the duke's heir," a voice commented. you snapped your head up to the noise and realized, in mortification, that you had to crane your neck to even meet his eyes. you grip the silk of your apparel in alarm. "i'm varka. knight of boreas, grandmaster of the knight of favonious!"
the grandmaster pressed a closed fist to his chest, a grin plastered on his face as he bowed his head. "from now on, you will be in our care. if you encounter any problems, please don't hesitate to inform me. or lohen."
lohen.
you wondered what he's like.
as varka stood back to his full height, he offered you a hand to guide you to the horse you'll be riding to the city. "the roads are treacherous here, your grace. using a carriage will only lengthen the time to get to the city." he had explained earlier when your mother had complained at the lack of proper transportation. you sighed in dismay when she threw another hissy fit, your father right behind her as he guided her onto the horse, gathering the many layers of her gown. he was probably chastising her for not heeding his warnings. you turned around and let varka lift you to the saddle (and when i say lift, i mean lift. the man even had the audacity to laugh and ask if you were eating properly.)
you tuned out the rest of mother's tantrum in favor of soaking in the sights of your new home. it was… starkly different. you could actually see the path, albeit it was… unrecognizable; wild flowers bloomed from the soil, and small critters would gather atop rock formations to tilt their heads at you. when you thought no one was looking, you gave them a small wave. a smile bloomed on your face when the small squirrel jumped in delight before scurrying away with its friend.
"you're quite the charmer, your highness." you turned to your left and watched as varka reign his horse slow it's pace and match yours. his sky-lit eyes eventually fell on the mount you had been riding, a low whistle escaping his lips. "that horse you're riding is infamous for throwing off any rider that touches his saddle."
you feel your anxiety spike, quickly looked down to your horse before you calmed down. "you should've said that earlier, grandmaster…"
he laughed, hearty and whole. like the feeling of joy existed in the air that wafted in the surroundings and encompassed the space of his lungs. "ha, ha, ha! i heard rumors about you being blessed by mother nature herself, your highness! ah, forgive me. i know i shouldn't indulge in such rumors but the moment you had stepped off that boat, i had a feeling you were special."
you blinked up at him (cursing the very obvious gap in your heights in your mind) and couldn't stop yourself from asking, "why is vice-captain lohen here?"
there's a shift in the air. subtle, almost as if it never happened to begin with. but you saw it. the way varka's eyes widened for just a fraction, how they looked at anything but you, and how he changed the subject faster than any warning of an avalanche you've heard.
the trip to the main gates was spent in silence after that. you didn't dare to ask the question again, or even bring up your fiancé's name. afraid of the suffocation the knights would have to endure as the words fell from your lips.
lohen. you trialed in your mind. it was short enough to remember, but unique in a way you've only ever heard it once. lohen. you looked up to the sky, the day had barely passed despite it feeling like you've travelled through half of teyvat already. when the sun peeked around it's shield of clouds, you wondered where your fiancé was.
mondstadt was welcoming. welcoming enough for your father — all up-tight, and no funny business — to indulge in a few rounds of beer in a quaint bar in a corner. "it's angel's share," you're mother informed, already half-way through her glass of champagne when she found you in a dark corner on the second floor. "owned by the most sought after bachelor in mondstadt — diluc ragnvindr."
"if he's so sought after, why wasn't he a candidate?" you asked, swirling the apple cider in your glass.
"naive child, i've told you numerous times already. he could have been, if you hadn't burned his letter in the fireplace like a fool."
ah, now you remembered. you were high on emotions that night and the thought of leaving home with a man you didn't know sent you into a spiralling tantrum that ended with you burning the stacks of marriage proposals on your father's desk. you distinctively remembered a burgundy envelope and an owl seal amongst them.
you took a careful peek at your mother who had dropped herself on the seat in front of you, much to your disdain. when she clicked her tongue, you took it as your cue to let your gaze fall like it always had in her presence.
"because of your foolish mistake, you're stuck with this half-witted, war-mongering vice-captain."
"'warn mongering'?" you asked.
she rolled her eyes at you, drinking the remaining champagne and slammed the delicate glass in front of you. "the boy is a monster, [name]." she said, "that lohen is unbecoming. i can't wrap my mind around how he, of all people was accepted into the knights."
the way she said lohen's name — as if the very letters seared her tongue and offended her existence — made something churn in your stomach. you didn't know him, you reminded yourself, there's no point in defending him. in fact, with varka's prior reaction to you questioning his whereabouts, you're left with little but too much all the same; lohen was someone distasteful to be around.
"are you even listening to me, [name]?!" your mother rattled, "listen to me, dear archons above what have i done to deserve such a disobedient child—"
you stood from your seat, the legs of your chair dragging across the floors before it dropped with a painfully loud thud. chatter paused, songs finished abruptly, and you simply smiled. "i'm tired, i'll be retiring for the day." you excused yourself from the others, bolting to the stairs, only to be stopped when the grandmaster weaved himself between you and the exit.
"now, your highness, you can't leave yet!" he said, one hand still holding a wooden mug of beer.
you raised a brow at him, your patience growing thin when he continues to block your path regardless of what step you took. "grandmaster," you warned. "please, step aside."
but he only shook his head, a finger scratched his chin while his eyes darted across the many faces in the bar. "y-you can't!"
"and why not?"
"because… um… you see, we were, um…"
while he was busy thinking fo an excuse, you sent out a silent prayer to the tsaritsa that barbatos doesn't smite you for landing a blow on one of his knights (though calling it a blow would be an exaggeration when the grandmaster was double, if not triple your body mass). at best, you had landed a strong enough blow to his side to tickle, tickle, him to drop his guard and wheeze out of your way.
finally! you thought. you were almost free from this stuffy, beer-stinking room!
but as you opened the door, a force from the other side pulled it forward, taking you along with it. everyone gasped, and you shut your eyes to brace for the impact, already imagining the scolding you were about to receive if even a single scratch were to grace your face. but it never came.
instead, heavy and dirtied hands caught you by the forearms as your face planted into someone's uniform stained with blood. you stayed there for a moment longer than what would be considered necessary.
"well, ain't this a lovely first meeting, your highness!"
you felt the blood drain from your face as you realized who you had just fallen into. with a heavy sigh and grumbled curses, you lift your head enough to catch a glimpse of a face that did not match the tone of his voice. his eyes were something straight out of a fairytale, but it's not what you'd describe as "princely" or even a "knight" — they had no light, like never-ending, encompassing pool of carmine that bleeds into the sky.
your mother was right, lohen was a monster.
"what? do i have something on my face?" he asked, and you're mortified to realize that you had been caught staring right into a rabbit hole of his gaze. the pads of his gloves dragged from your forearms down to cup your palms — gentle, sure. you think you can feel the callouses from how he uses his weapons, and yet… "you okay there? i'm starting to think i'm not the only delusional one here." he joked with a chuckle under his breath.
"excuse me?"
"just a joke! no need to be offended, your highness," he assured you, but it did little to quell the somersaults that your stomach continued to perform. his skin was pale, maybe as pale as the snow back at home, and there's a single guiding star beneath the right of his eye. his mouth moved, and you thought what he said was funny when the other patrons laughed. but you didn't hear it. not when your hand, the one your father swore would never know the feeling of blood, dragged a thumb over the bleeding scratch that etched his cheekbone down to the side of his chin.
"what a wound. it must be painful," you muttered before a familiar condensation of dendro energy pooled at where the blood continued to stain his cheeks. "hold still," you asked, and against everyone's expectations, lohen did as you asked. he stood still, very still. when half of the wound had closed, you began to wonder if he was even breathing.
when his cheek was fully healed, only then did you finally breathe out a sigh of relief. noticing how the room had gone quiet, you became acutely aware how little distance was left between you and the vice-captain. with reddening cheeks, you let out a cough into your first, and stepped back. the warmth of his hold left a scalding trail on your skin that raised the hairs yet left you wanting for more, all the same.
lohen stumbled back, too. a hand clumsily tugging at the collar of his uniform, before both hands dusted down his shirt, cursing when he realized blood had managed to stain the spot you had planted your face in. when your eyes met again, you noticed the obvious flustering of his cheeks. it contrasted nicely against his pale, snow-stricken complexion. and it made the blush that crept up his ears all the more obvious.
your staring context was broken when you hear a snort from behind you. your head whipped to see the culprit, only to find varka ducking his head down just as you glared at him. he waved a hand in apology, setting his cup of beer down the counter, and going past you just to stand besides lohen.
"your highness, allow me to introduce to you the vice-captain of the knight's fifth company." a heavy hand was placed on his shoulders, and your eyes met again. this time, he didn't look away, nor did you think he cared much for the obvious red on his cheeks. "lohen, this is their highness, [name]. proud heir to snezhnaya's dukedom, who also happens to be your fiancé."
lohen rolled his eyes, shrugged off varka's hand on his shoulder before reaching for something behind him. "can you tell me something i don't know, grandmaster? i do more than just fighting, you know."
"that's rather hard to believe, but sure! whatever you say!"
annoyed by his superior, lohen swiftly delivered an undamaging kick to the grandmaster's shin. the latter only laughed at his attempt, before shoving him forward, nearly sending you both toppling over if you had not caught him by the shoulders as he did with you.
"stupid grandmaster, i don't need your help," he grumbled under his breath.
you tilted your head curiously, slotting you perfectly in his visage that he stumbles over the next few words. "help with what?"
you heard the other knights holler and whistle, the grandmaster behind him laughed even harder as he passed you both, taking up his previous station by the bar and watching with amused eyes. "the same reason why he wasn't there to greet you when you arrived, your highness!" varka explained. "come on lohen, don't get all shy on us now! you we're all fire and spirit when you proposed the idea, where's that spirit gone?"
"drowned by your noise if you don't shut the hell up!" lohen shouted amidst the sea of laughter and cheering. "damned nosy assholes. who even said you were in on the plan in the first place?!"
"i'm… a little lost."
as he finally remembered who he was in proximity with, the blush on his face worsened, and the cheering grew louder. he slipped from your hold, taking a deep breath and continuing his grumbling, throwing a glare at the head that belonged to the grandmaster as he finally fixed his posture.
couhing into his fist, lohen did one final lookover his appearance — fixing the collar of his shirt, dusting down his cape, and brushing the bangs over his eyes. he took one step, then another, until he was only an arm's length away and you had to stop the squeek that nearly slipped from your throat when he took your hand in his, while the hand behind his back revealed a bouquet of local flowers in mondstadt.
"i apologize, for not greeting you first. i know it's not exactly very "knightly" of me," lohen paused, his thumb rubbing mindless circles on your knuckles as his gaze flickered from your face to the flowers in his hold. "and appearing all battered and with a wound on my face is… unbecoming. but i promise, it was for a good cause. that being this." he motioned for you to take the bouquet. when you gingerly accepted them in your hands, he straightened his back again. "welcome to mondstadt, my fiancée. i hope you'll like it here."
"'welcome to mondstadt, my fiance.' now where, pray tell, did you learn to smooth-talk like that, lohen?"
the vice-captain only rolled his eyes. he continued wiping down his spear in jean's office (why it had to be here, lohen didn't know. and fankly, he was too tired to know.). "it was a formal welcome. since all you wanted to act like a stick had stuck up your ass, i decided to be… more me."
"more you, as in revealing your year-long crush on the duke's heir?"
"when have i said that?!"
albedo and kaeya shrugged, but the all-knowing and teasing smiles on their faces had lohen's heart hammering in his chest. when lisa chuckled and closed her book, only then did he realize that he had abruptly stood from his seat, his polearm lay forgotten on the floor along with the cloth he was using to clean it.
"now, now, don't tease him you two. it must have been hard to gather all those flowers in starsnatch cliff with the activity of the abyss."
"thank you—"
"and confessing isn't exactly an easy thing to prepare for! the fact he even showed up is a miracle in and of itself."
"lisa?!"
"enough, you three."
when jean arrived, only then could lohen relax and sit back down on his seat. he picked up his polearm and glared at kaeya when the man snickered at him.
"now that we're all here, we will be discussing the appropriate accomodations to the duke and his family," jean's eyes landed on lohen first. "thankfully, master diluc had agreed to house them for a while until we finish the deal with northland bank." then, she nodded towards lisa and albedo's direction, "the duke's only request is that their highness's studies in alchemy to be continued, so i'll be trusting you both in that regard."
"thank you for trusting us, dear jean."
"yes, we'll do our utmost best."
jean smiled, shoulders finally relaxing, "that leaves kaeya and me with managing their transportation when the duke and duchess return. now lohen," the vice-captain stiffened. a shiver ran down his spine when he met jean's eyes and watched in horror as even her lips tugged into a teasing smile. "it'll be your job to assist them in any and every field. you are their hand-picked knight, ensure that they remain safe until the weeding."
"it offends me that you think i can't even do something as simple as that," lohen complained.
"ah, ah. i'm not finished.
"huh?"
jean smiled, in fact, everyone in the room smiled. and lohen felt cold, ice water was dumped over his head when the next words followed.
"as their fiancé, be sure to woo them now and then. it took a lot of effort from master diluc to get your name on their candidate's list after all."
SYNOPSIS: after numerous failed arranged marriages set up by your parents, you thought the one with the vice-captain would follow the same pattern. you're proven wrong when he subverts what an expected greeting should be given.
𖥔 WORDCOUNT: 3.3k (pls give it a chance...) ┆ 𖥔 TAGS. @millurie @axolotsofluv @tragedy-of-commons @al97649 @bisouyuo @aritsukemo -> come join the taglist here!
𖥔 WARNINGS: mentions of beer and drinking, reader is from snezhnaya and has a dendro vision, reader also has lowkey/implied mommy issues, mentions blood and a wound, arrange marriages obv, cameo for varka, ragbros, jean, lisa, and albedo; not fully proofread; expect mistakes!
♪ FINAL NOTES .ᐟ this one is for my fav lohen kissers ari and yuomi 🤍🤍i genuinely didn't expect for this to b this long but oh well. art credits: @.su3ka_ on x!
"you are to be wedded to the vice-captain of the fifth company."
that's how it all began — a simple dinner with your parents as they dropped the bomb of your new marriage candidate. you tried your best not to appear vexed. keyword: tried. but unlike you're ever admirable cousin, jean, your face gave away more than your words ever could.
your brow twitched, the small fork in your hand clattered to the porcelain plate. your mother threw a disapproving glare, while your father coughed into his fist. "now, [name], my dear—"
"don't "my dear" me, father." you bark out, "what happened to giving up on setting me up for another failing marriage."
"you haven't even met the vice-captain," he argued.
you rolled your eyes in bemusement, "and you have? what happened to not involving yourself with 'pitiful, mongering barbarian?""
"your marriage has been decided," he stated sternly. he set his utensils with force enough to rattle the entire table as he raised his head like he always did when someone challenged his authority as a duke. "you are to be wed to vice-captain lohen." a tired sigh escaped him, a gloved hand pinched between his brows as he heard you stand from your seat and dash out the dining room. "arranged marriages aren't all so bad, [name]!"
"not all bad, you say?!" you shouted from across the corridor. "take a look at your relationship with mother before you say that!"
your family arrived in mondstadt at dawn. the trip to dorman port was as you expected—humid, and all too bright in comparison to the snow of snezhnaya. the people smiled often, too, you noticed. well, you supposed this was the land of freedom after all. you're quite tempted to see where the winds would take you when all you've grown up with are the blizzards and snowstorms that knock at your windows like an incessant friend who can't take no for an answer.
still, despite your curiosity about what the wild berries in the bushes would taste like, you willed your feet to stay rooted at the docks. your father greeted everyone as usual; your mother hid half her face in disdain behind her fan. like you, she had a lot to say about the weather, but you doubt she'd sugarcoat any unpleasant comments she had. people have told you that you took after her the most — too straightforward, too quippy, too wild to be a duke's heir.
"and you must be the duke's heir," a voice commented. you snapped your head up to the noise and realized, in mortification, that you had to crane your neck to even meet his eyes. you grip the silk of your apparel in alarm. "i'm varka. knight of boreas, grandmaster of the knight of favonious!"
the grandmaster pressed a closed fist to his chest, a grin plastered on his face as he bowed his head. "from now on, you will be in our care. if you encounter any problems, please don't hesitate to inform me. or lohen."
lohen.
you wondered what he's like.
as varka stood back to his full height, he offered you a hand to guide you to the horse you'll be riding to the city. "the roads are treacherous here, your grace. using a carriage will only lengthen the time to get to the city." he had explained earlier when your mother had complained at the lack of proper transportation. you sighed in dismay when she threw another hissy fit, your father right behind her as he guided her onto the horse, gathering the many layers of her gown. he was probably chastising her for not heeding his warnings. you turned around and let varka lift you to the saddle (and when i say lift, i mean lift. the man even had the audacity to laugh and ask if you were eating properly.)
you tuned out the rest of mother's tantrum in favor of soaking in the sights of your new home. it was… starkly different. you could actually see the path, albeit it was… unrecognizable; wild flowers bloomed from the soil, and small critters would gather atop rock formations to tilt their heads at you. when you thought no one was looking, you gave them a small wave. a smile bloomed on your face when the small squirrel jumped in delight before scurrying away with its friend.
"you're quite the charmer, your highness." you turned to your left and watched as varka reign his horse slow it's pace and match yours. his sky-lit eyes eventually fell on the mount you had been riding, a low whistle escaping his lips. "that horse you're riding is infamous for throwing off any rider that touches his saddle."
you feel your anxiety spike, quickly looked down to your horse before you calmed down. "you should've said that earlier, grandmaster…"
he laughed, hearty and whole. like the feeling of joy existed in the air that wafted in the surroundings and encompassed the space of his lungs. "ha, ha, ha! i heard rumors about you being blessed by mother nature herself, your highness! ah, forgive me. i know i shouldn't indulge in such rumors but the moment you had stepped off that boat, i had a feeling you were special."
you blinked up at him (cursing the very obvious gap in your heights in your mind) and couldn't stop yourself from asking, "why is vice-captain lohen here?"
there's a shift in the air. subtle, almost as if it never happened to begin with. but you saw it. the way varka's eyes widened for just a fraction, how they looked at anything but you, and how he changed the subject faster than any warning of an avalanche you've heard.
the trip to the main gates was spent in silence after that. you didn't dare to ask the question again, or even bring up your fiancé's name. afraid of the suffocation the knights would have to endure as the words fell from your lips.
lohen. you trialed in your mind. it was short enough to remember, but unique in a way you've only ever heard it once. lohen. you looked up to the sky, the day had barely passed despite it feeling like you've travelled through half of teyvat already. when the sun peeked around it's shield of clouds, you wondered where your fiancé was.
mondstadt was welcoming. welcoming enough for your father — all up-tight, and no funny business — to indulge in a few rounds of beer in a quaint bar in a corner. "it's angel's share," you're mother informed, already half-way through her glass of champagne when she found you in a dark corner on the second floor. "owned by the most sought after bachelor in mondstadt — diluc ragnvindr."
"if he's so sought after, why wasn't he a candidate?" you asked, swirling the apple cider in your glass.
"naive child, i've told you numerous times already. he could have been, if you hadn't burned his letter in the fireplace like a fool."
ah, now you remembered. you were high on emotions that night and the thought of leaving home with a man you didn't know sent you into a spiralling tantrum that ended with you burning the stacks of marriage proposals on your father's desk. you distinctively remembered a burgundy envelope and an owl seal amongst them.
you took a careful peek at your mother who had dropped herself on the seat in front of you, much to your disdain. when she clicked her tongue, you took it as your cue to let your gaze fall like it always had in her presence.
"because of your foolish mistake, you're stuck with this half-witted, war-mongering vice-captain."
"'warn mongering'?" you asked.
she rolled her eyes at you, drinking the remaining champagne and slammed the delicate glass in front of you. "the boy is a monster, [name]." she said, "that lohen is unbecoming. i can't wrap my mind around how he, of all people was accepted into the knights."
the way she said lohen's name — as if the very letters seared her tongue and offended her existence — made something churn in your stomach. you didn't know him, you reminded yourself, there's no point in defending him. in fact, with varka's prior reaction to you questioning his whereabouts, you're left with little but too much all the same; lohen was someone distasteful to be around.
"are you even listening to me, [name]?!" your mother rattled, "listen to me, dear archons above what have i done to deserve such a disobedient child—"
you stood from your seat, the legs of your chair dragging across the floors before it dropped with a painfully loud thud. chatter paused, songs finished abruptly, and you simply smiled. "i'm tired, i'll be retiring for the day." you excused yourself from the others, bolting to the stairs, only to be stopped when the grandmaster weaved himself between you and the exit.
"now, your highness, you can't leave yet!" he said, one hand still holding a wooden mug of beer.
you raised a brow at him, your patience growing thin when he continues to block your path regardless of what step you took. "grandmaster," you warned. "please, step aside."
but he only shook his head, a finger scratched his chin while his eyes darted across the many faces in the bar. "y-you can't!"
"and why not?"
"because… um… you see, we were, um…"
while he was busy thinking fo an excuse, you sent out a silent prayer to the tsaritsa that barbatos doesn't smite you for landing a blow on one of his knights (though calling it a blow would be an exaggeration when the grandmaster was double, if not triple your body mass). at best, you had landed a strong enough blow to his side to tickle, tickle, him to drop his guard and wheeze out of your way.
finally! you thought. you were almost free from this stuffy, beer-stinking room!
but as you opened the door, a force from the other side pulled it forward, taking you along with it. everyone gasped, and you shut your eyes to brace for the impact, already imagining the scolding you were about to receive if even a single scratch were to grace your face. but it never came.
instead, heavy and dirtied hands caught you by the forearms as your face planted into someone's uniform stained with blood. you stayed there for a moment longer than what would be considered necessary.
"well, ain't this a lovely first meeting, your highness!"
you felt the blood drain from your face as you realized who you had just fallen into. with a heavy sigh and grumbled curses, you lift your head enough to catch a glimpse of a face that did not match the tone of his voice. his eyes were something straight out of a fairytale, but it's not what you'd describe as "princely" or even a "knight" — they had no light, like never-ending, encompassing pool of carmine that bleeds into the sky.
your mother was right, lohen was a monster.
"what? do i have something on my face?" he asked, and you're mortified to realize that you had been caught staring right into a rabbit hole of his gaze. the pads of his gloves dragged from your forearms down to cup your palms — gentle, sure. you think you can feel the callouses from how he uses his weapons, and yet… "you okay there? i'm starting to think i'm not the only delusional one here." he joked with a chuckle under his breath.
"excuse me?"
"just a joke! no need to be offended, your highness," he assured you, but it did little to quell the somersaults that your stomach continued to perform. his skin was pale, maybe as pale as the snow back at home, and there's a single guiding star beneath the right of his eye. his mouth moved, and you thought what he said was funny when the other patrons laughed. but you didn't hear it. not when your hand, the one your father swore would never know the feeling of blood, dragged a thumb over the bleeding scratch that etched his cheekbone down to the side of his chin.
"what a wound. it must be painful," you muttered before a familiar condensation of dendro energy pooled at where the blood continued to stain his cheeks. "hold still," you asked, and against everyone's expectations, lohen did as you asked. he stood still, very still. when half of the wound had closed, you began to wonder if he was even breathing.
when his cheek was fully healed, only then did you finally breathe out a sigh of relief. noticing how the room had gone quiet, you became acutely aware how little distance was left between you and the vice-captain. with reddening cheeks, you let out a cough into your first, and stepped back. the warmth of his hold left a scalding trail on your skin that raised the hairs yet left you wanting for more, all the same.
lohen stumbled back, too. a hand clumsily tugging at the collar of his uniform, before both hands dusted down his shirt, cursing when he realized blood had managed to stain the spot you had planted your face in. when your eyes met again, you noticed the obvious flustering of his cheeks. it contrasted nicely against his pale, snow-stricken complexion. and it made the blush that crept up his ears all the more obvious.
your staring context was broken when you hear a snort from behind you. your head whipped to see the culprit, only to find varka ducking his head down just as you glared at him. he waved a hand in apology, setting his cup of beer down the counter, and going past you just to stand besides lohen.
"your highness, allow me to introduce to you the vice-captain of the knight's fifth company." a heavy hand was placed on his shoulders, and your eyes met again. this time, he didn't look away, nor did you think he cared much for the obvious red on his cheeks. "lohen, this is their highness, [name]. proud heir to snezhnaya's dukedom, who also happens to be your fiancé."
lohen rolled his eyes, shrugged off varka's hand on his shoulder before reaching for something behind him. "can you tell me something i don't know, grandmaster? i do more than just fighting, you know."
"that's rather hard to believe, but sure! whatever you say!"
annoyed by his superior, lohen swiftly delivered an undamaging kick to the grandmaster's shin. the latter only laughed at his attempt, before shoving him forward, nearly sending you both toppling over if you had not caught him by the shoulders as he did with you.
"stupid grandmaster, i don't need your help," he grumbled under his breath.
you tilted your head curiously, slotting you perfectly in his visage that he stumbles over the next few words. "help with what?"
you heard the other knights holler and whistle, the grandmaster behind him laughed even harder as he passed you both, taking up his previous station by the bar and watching with amused eyes. "the same reason why he wasn't there to greet you when you arrived, your highness!" varka explained. "come on lohen, don't get all shy on us now! you we're all fire and spirit when you proposed the idea, where's that spirit gone?"
"drowned by your noise if you don't shut the hell up!" lohen shouted amidst the sea of laughter and cheering. "damned nosy assholes. who even said you were in on the plan in the first place?!"
"i'm… a little lost."
as he finally remembered who he was in proximity with, the blush on his face worsened, and the cheering grew louder. he slipped from your hold, taking a deep breath and continuing his grumbling, throwing a glare at the head that belonged to the grandmaster as he finally fixed his posture.
couhing into his fist, lohen did one final lookover his appearance — fixing the collar of his shirt, dusting down his cape, and brushing the bangs over his eyes. he took one step, then another, until he was only an arm's length away and you had to stop the squeek that nearly slipped from your throat when he took your hand in his, while the hand behind his back revealed a bouquet of local flowers in mondstadt.
"i apologize, for not greeting you first. i know it's not exactly very "knightly" of me," lohen paused, his thumb rubbing mindless circles on your knuckles as his gaze flickered from your face to the flowers in his hold. "and appearing all battered and with a wound on my face is… unbecoming. but i promise, it was for a good cause. that being this." he motioned for you to take the bouquet. when you gingerly accepted them in your hands, he straightened his back again. "welcome to mondstadt, my fiancée. i hope you'll like it here."
"'welcome to mondstadt, my fiance.' now where, pray tell, did you learn to smooth-talk like that, lohen?"
the vice-captain only rolled his eyes. he continued wiping down his spear in jean's office (why it had to be here, lohen didn't know. and fankly, he was too tired to know.). "it was a formal welcome. since all you wanted to act like a stick had stuck up your ass, i decided to be… more me."
"more you, as in revealing your year-long crush on the duke's heir?"
"when have i said that?!"
albedo and kaeya shrugged, but the all-knowing and teasing smiles on their faces had lohen's heart hammering in his chest. when lisa chuckled and closed her book, only then did he realize that he had abruptly stood from his seat, his polearm lay forgotten on the floor along with the cloth he was using to clean it.
"now, now, don't tease him you two. it must have been hard to gather all those flowers in starsnatch cliff with the activity of the abyss."
"thank you—"
"and confessing isn't exactly an easy thing to prepare for! the fact he even showed up is a miracle in and of itself."
"lisa?!"
"enough, you three."
when jean arrived, only then could lohen relax and sit back down on his seat. he picked up his polearm and glared at kaeya when the man snickered at him.
"now that we're all here, we will be discussing the appropriate accomodations to the duke and his family," jean's eyes landed on lohen first. "thankfully, master diluc had agreed to house them for a while until we finish the deal with northland bank." then, she nodded towards lisa and albedo's direction, "the duke's only request is that their highness's studies in alchemy to be continued, so i'll be trusting you both in that regard."
"thank you for trusting us, dear jean."
"yes, we'll do our utmost best."
jean smiled, shoulders finally relaxing, "that leaves kaeya and me with managing their transportation when the duke and duchess return. now lohen," the vice-captain stiffened. a shiver ran down his spine when he met jean's eyes and watched in horror as even her lips tugged into a teasing smile. "it'll be your job to assist them in any and every field. you are their hand-picked knight, ensure that they remain safe until the weeding."
"it offends me that you think i can't even do something as simple as that," lohen complained.
"ah, ah. i'm not finished.
"huh?"
jean smiled, in fact, everyone in the room smiled. and lohen felt cold, ice water was dumped over his head when the next words followed.
"as their fiancé, be sure to woo them now and then. it took a lot of effort from master diluc to get your name on their candidate's list after all."
initially, you refuse to admit it, though your fascination slips past the aisle of your thoughts and starts to form in the rhythmic way you tread your fingers through his golden hair, eventually conceding as you comment. “you hair is so soft.”
tsukishima kei hums, eyes shut as he lay on your chest, feeling his scalp being massaged gently as you untangle the tensions.
“you sleepy?”
“yeah. sorry.”
“don’t be, get some rest.” you say, eliciting a yawn from him.
“is it normal to feel sleepy around your partner?”
“i guess so, heard they can regulate your nervous system or something.”
“you stress me out sometimes.”
you raise a brow, pausing your ministrations, eager to tease and be teased. “okay, and?"
“you love to ragebait me.”
“so do you?”
you see the wrinkling of his brow first before the purse of his lips, almost as if he's pouting. "it's not my fault, you're too easy anyway. and who said you could stop?"
you hum this time, fingers stayed put. "stop what?"
with his eyes closed and a scoff, his expression twists even more into something close to hesitation, "i see you, wipe that grin off your face."
"dunno what you're talking about, darling."
you like to think he's refusing to admit to the fact that he likes being teased by you—no, you're certain. you know him just as much.
long and sluggish arms snuggle your figure, he kicks off the blanket from his waist to reveal the expanse of his broad chest and exposing his calf down, only wearing boxers while the rain pours with intermittent strength. he mumbles against your chest, lips kissing the midline of your torso where the sternum protrudes, you feel his body sharing warmth, engulfing you whole.
then, he mutters, "please."
"please, what?"
he lifts his head to look at you, glasses left aside on your nightstand. his eyes are mellowed out so much you can't take his annoying expression seriously, holding your stare for a short minute, before succumbing to his fate, a subject to your whims. "please massage my hair like that."
"wasn't so hard now, was it?"
he can only dignify with a low groan. sighing when you finally continue to stroke his hair. "thank you."
"don't mention it."
you know you could stay like this forever, even when your blanket is strewn on the floor, or his weight on top of you, or how he becomes softer against the steady pulse of the rain. you wouldn't trade it for the world.
and in the way he sinks heavier against you, you know he wouldn't either.
initially, you refuse to admit it, though your fascination slips past the aisle of your thoughts and starts to form in the rhythmic way you tread your fingers through his golden hair, eventually conceding as you comment. “you hair is so soft.”
tsukishima kei hums, eyes shut as he lay on your chest, feeling his scalp being massaged gently as you untangle the tensions.
“you sleepy?”
“yeah. sorry.”
“don’t be, get some rest.” you say, eliciting a yawn from him.
“is it normal to feel sleepy around your partner?”
“i guess so, heard they can regulate your nervous system or something.”
“you stress me out sometimes.”
you raise a brow, pausing your ministrations, eager to tease and be teased. “okay, and?"
“you love to ragebait me.”
“so do you?”
you see the wrinkling of his brow first before the purse of his lips, almost as if he's pouting. "it's not my fault, you're too easy anyway. and who said you could stop?"
you hum this time, fingers stayed put. "stop what?"
with his eyes closed and a scoff, his expression twists even more into something close to hesitation, "i see you, wipe that grin off your face."
"dunno what you're talking about, darling."
you like to think he's refusing to admit to the fact that he likes being teased by you—no, you're certain. you know him just as much.
long and sluggish arms snuggle your figure, he kicks off the blanket from his waist to reveal the expanse of his broad chest and exposing his calf down, only wearing boxers while the rain pours with intermittent strength. he mumbles against your chest, lips kissing the midline of your torso where the sternum protrudes, you feel his body sharing warmth, engulfing you whole.
then, he mutters, "please."
"please, what?"
he lifts his head to look at you, glasses left aside on your nightstand. his eyes are mellowed out so much you can't take his annoying expression seriously, holding your stare for a short minute, before succumbing to his fate, a subject to your whims. "please massage my hair like that."
"wasn't so hard now, was it?"
he can only dignify with a low groan. sighing when you finally continue to stroke his hair. "thank you."
"don't mention it."
you know you could stay like this forever, even when your blanket is strewn on the floor, or his weight on top of you, or how he becomes softer against the steady pulse of the rain. you wouldn't trade it for the world.
and in the way he sinks heavier against you, you know he wouldn't either.
initially, you refuse to admit it, though your fascination slips past the aisle of your thoughts and starts to form in the rhythmic way you tread your fingers through his golden hair, eventually conceding as you comment. “you hair is so soft.”
tsukishima kei hums, eyes shut as he lay on your chest, feeling his scalp being massaged gently as you untangle the tensions.
“you sleepy?”
“yeah. sorry.”
“don’t be, get some rest.” you say, eliciting a yawn from him.
“is it normal to feel sleepy around your partner?”
“i guess so, heard they can regulate your nervous system or something.”
“you stress me out sometimes.”
you raise a brow, pausing your ministrations, eager to tease and be teased. “okay, and?"
“you love to ragebait me.”
“so do you?”
you see the wrinkling of his brow first before the purse of his lips, almost as if he's pouting. "it's not my fault, you're too easy anyway. and who said you could stop?"
you hum this time, fingers stayed put. "stop what?"
with his eyes closed and a scoff, his expression twists even more into something close to hesitation, "i see you, wipe that grin off your face."
"dunno what you're talking about, darling."
you like to think he's refusing to admit to the fact that he likes being teased by you—no, you're certain. you know him just as much.
long and sluggish arms snuggle your figure, he kicks off the blanket from his waist to reveal the expanse of his broad chest and exposing his calf down, only wearing boxers while the rain pours with intermittent strength. he mumbles against your chest, lips kissing the midline of your torso where the sternum protrudes, you feel his body sharing warmth, engulfing you whole.
then, he mutters, "please."
"please, what?"
he lifts his head to look at you, glasses left aside on your nightstand. his eyes are mellowed out so much you can't take his annoying expression seriously, holding your stare for a short minute, before succumbing to his fate, a subject to your whims. "please massage my hair like that."
"wasn't so hard now, was it?"
he can only dignify with a low groan. sighing when you finally continue to stroke his hair. "thank you."
"don't mention it."
you know you could stay like this forever, even when your blanket is strewn on the floor, or his weight on top of you, or how he becomes softer against the steady pulse of the rain. you wouldn't trade it for the world.
and in the way he sinks heavier against you, you know he wouldn't either.
🐊 featuring: {separate}: 𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐤𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐡𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐥𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐮 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐥𝐨𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
🐊 tw: yandere themes ⭐︎ non/dubcon ⭐︎ kidnapping ⭐︎ delusions ⭐︎ they’re mean es shii ⭐︎ two faced asl ⭐︎ sadism ⭐︎ masochism ⭐︎ bondage ⭐︎ footjob ⭐︎ spanking ⭐︎ degradation ⭐︎ babytrapping ⭐︎ choking ⭐︎ manhandling ⭐︎ face sitting (m! receiving) ⭐︎ 69 ⭐︎ rimming ⭐︎ feminization ⭐︎ lingerie ⭐︎ collar ⭐︎ humiliation ⭐︎ hair pulling ⭐︎ stockholm syndrome ⭐︎
🐊 an: ah yes, time to feed the twink lovers, wish you luck ♡
🐊 HEIZOU — Knick-knack!
The collar snaps before your eyes finish rolling.
Leather biting sharp into your throat – not tight enough to choke, just cruelly reminding you he already knew you'd try it.
It forces a sharp gasp out of you—one you don't get to finish, because Heizou's already using that strip of leather to drag you right back between his legs.
Knuckles skimming your jaw as he guides your head down, unbothered, like he'd mapped out every move you were going to make before you made them.
One moment you’re glaring.
Next, your mouth is full of him.
His cock slides hot and heavy over your tongue, and the startled glkh!— that bursts out of you only makes his grin sharpen.
"There she is," he says, voice bright and almost clinical. "I gave you three opportunities to stop before it got to this point. You picked this."
You barely manage a sputter before he adjusts the collar again—SNAP!—tightening it to borderline cut off airflow.
His expression doesn't go cold so much as settle — as if he's arrived somewhere he expected to be. You glare up at him on instinct.
Heizou’s eyes lit up like you’d handed him a present.
"Oh, still brave," he murmurs, thumb brushing your lower lip with idle curiosity, like he's noting it down somewhere. "Predictable, but brave. Don't use your teeth, sweetheart. I already know you're thinking about it."
You don’t get to protest.
Before he slams his hips upward, seating himself deeper in your throat so fast your nose hits his skin. His cock nudges a place you're not ready for, your throat seizing around him as your vision spots.
glk!- glkh- glk
Breath stuttering, lashes fluttering as he watches your throat struggle around him.
"T-there it is," he sighs, pleased in that infuriating, already-knew-it way he has. "Much more honest than whatever smart little comment you… were... hah… about to make. I clocked the exact wording, by the way. Would've been a good one."
You dig your nails into his thighs hard, a silent ‘go fuck yourself.’
The sound you make next — a humiliating, involuntary little choke — made you cringe… and him lose composure entirely.
Making Heizou moaned loudly, head tipping back, a low breathless "Ah–!" slipping out before he could catch it, olive eyes fluttering like your defiance knocked something loose in his chest he hadn't accounted for.
First thing he hadn't accounted for.
He stares back down at you, something flickering in his expression — recalculating. Then that grin returns, slower this time. More interested.
"Hm." His thumb drags your lip down, watching the spit string between skin. "You keep doing things I don't predict. Do you know how rare that is?"
Loosening the collar just enough for you to gasp—wrong move. Your pride flares, and you try to snap back, but all that comes out is a vibration against his cock, a choked mmph! that makes his hips jerk.
"Look at you," he says, catching a tear you didn't realize had fallen, holding it on his thumb like it's a clue. "Still fighting. Still dripping. And you think I can't tell which one you're more embarrassed about."
Then he's guiding your head back down—slow, but not merciful—letting his cock drag over every tender inch of your tongue while he keeps watching.
slrp!—mmph!—glk!
He follows the tremor in your thighs like a bloodhound.
Watches them press together, you pretending it's not happening. He clocked the exact moment your hips gave the smallest, traitorous twitch toward him.
"There it is.." quietly, to himself more than you, "You know~," he continues, tilting his head, "I wasn't planning to use more than one hand today. But you're so full of-” Then something warm slides between your knees. “-surprises.”
His foot.
The arch nudges your thighs apart, slow and so casual — like it's the obvious next logical step — exposing your soaked underwear to the cool air.
“Hm?” he coos, voice all faux-gentle mockery. "You're already this wet, and we're barely into the hypothesis."
His thumb traces idle circles on the leather strap. "Your body keeps contradicting itself. That's going to be a problem for you."
You try to shake your head — trembling, furious denial — but the collar stops the motion dead. His foot presses in, slow and deliberate, rubbing just enough friction against your panties to make your breath stutter out through your nose.
"You look furious," Heizou observes, voice soft with something worse than mockery — genuine fascination. "You should see your own face right now. You're trying so hard."
Foot rubbing in that same terrifying precision he puts into everything — deliberate circles right against your soaked panties. The pressure is perfect — teasing your swollen clit through the thin fabric while his cock stays buried deep in your throat.
"Every single time I discipline you," shaft still buried deep in your throat, foot working you toward something you're desperately trying not to give him, "your body does this. I've noted it. I have a very thorough record."
You try to grumble around him, but it only comes out as a wet, vibrating mmph that makes his length twitch on your tongue.
Heizou chuckles, low and delighted.
“Oh? You like that?” His foot moves faster, rubbing firm strokes up and down your dripping slit, toes curling to press right against your clit. “Look at you… trying so badly to glare at me while your pussy’s grinding against my foot like a desperate little whore.”
The combination is too much.
Your moan vibrates wildly around his length as your orgasm crashes through you — humiliating, what's worse is that he doesn't even look surprised.
"Mhm." He watches you shake apart with the quiet satisfaction of someone whose theory was confirmed exactly on schedule. "Right on time."
Not giving you a second to recover, his hips chase his own high with the same focused efficiency he does everything else, collar keeping you exactly where the evidence requires you to be.
With a low, unraveling moan — the least composed sound he's made all night — Heizou buries himself deep and cums.
He holds you through every pulse, breathing hard, that careful control finally fraying at the edges.
When he finally pulls back, thumb smearing across your swollen lip, he looks down at you with something that isn't quite the grin from earlier.
More like the face he makes when he's solved something that actually took effort.
"Good girl." Soft. Sincere, almost. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead — unhurried, like punctuation. "You know what the most interesting part of all of this is?"
Oh god
He tilts your chin up. "You already know exactly why you keep ending up here. You just haven't admitted it to yourself yet."
Grinning, eyeing your trembling form. "I'll wait. I'm patient. I already know the answer."
He gives the collar one last gentle tug.
"Knick-knack.~"
🐊 KAZUHA — W.T.F.
“K-KAZUHA WHAT T-THE FUCKKK!—”
Your voice cracks–as he slams into you, deep-deep-deep, the force of it yanking your silk-bound wrists taut against the beam above. The ropes creak as your spine arches.
And Kazuha just watches, amber eyes half-lidded, like he’s admiring the way your body jolts with every thrust.
Fingers cave into your hips, digging past the surface, marking you obsessively. He drives home with a smoothness that shouldn't be this brutal, each roll of his body a new lesson in how much you can endure.
One thrust.
Two.
Counting the hitches in your chest, timing his pace to the exact second your breath fails you.
“You’re shaking,” he whispers, voice soft as a lullaby. His hips snap forward—hard—and your gasp catches high in your chest, stuck.
“Is it the bindings?...” His thumb strokes your inner thigh, gently. “Or losing your Vision?”
He says it with a terrifying ease. He’d turned that stolen glass over in his palm earlier, eyes wide and worshiping, before tying you open and filling you.
Your body bounces with every stroke, helpless. “Hahh—!” spills out when he drags you down harder, his grip tightening, fingertips pressing deep enough to leave marks.
The pace picks up—smooth, controlled, relentless—like he’s chasing the sound of your breath shattering.
Plap! Plap! Plap!
The wet smack of skin on skin echoes across the water, obscene.
“Easy…” his breath is a warm ghost against your skin, but his weight is a solid, punishing reality stretching you open. “You keep tightening around me like this—”
A particularly vicious thrust punches the air straight out of your lungs, leaving you hollow. “—I might think you enjoy it.”
“I DON’T—” The words snap out, hot and immediate, but they lose their edge halfway.
Something is failing in the back of your skull. Your thoughts are sluggish, stalling, sinking into a gray fog.
Behind him, the box pulses with a weak, dying rhythm—your Pyro Vision guttering out, its fire turning to ash. You wrench your eyes away because the sight of your own fading ambition is a physical ache.
Kazuha grinds into you, a slow, cruel pressure right where your nerves are rawest, before driving up with a sudden, jarring force.
“Nghh—FUCK—!” It spills out, unbidden. Kazuha just exhales a quiet laugh against your cheek.
You hate the scent of him—cedar and salt air.
Hate the softness of his hair, untouched by the violence of his hips.
Most of all, you hate the memory of the same hand currently bruising your hip, tucking a blanket around your shoulders this morning.
You were something precious then.
Now, you’re just a prize.
The hate is there, but it’s slipping through your fingers, dissolving into the void where your Vision used to be.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice a low vibration in your ear as he thrusts deeper. Schlk…schlk…schlk filling you sends a forced heat racing up your spine. “-my songbird is one of a kind~.”
“KAZUHA I SWEAR TO ARCHONS-” But your voice cracks. The fury is a cavernous gap, feeling emptier by the second.
Another brutal snap of his hips makes your back arch, the beam above you groaning under the strain.
“I thought you’d want it like this,” puzzled, a quiet, private observation. He pouts—a look of pure, confused innocence—while his thumb traces a slow, heavy line up your clit. “You said I was always too soft.”
His shaft pulsed a deliberate, agonizing hesitation just to watch you squirm.
“So I figured…” Another thrust, deeper, meaner. “…you’d like it rough.”
You try to muster up the strength to glare holes into him, but you could only whimper in despair at the effects of not having your vision increase.
Kazuha tilts his head slightly, watching the way your wrists strain against the ropes like you’re testing whether the knots might suddenly grow merciful.
“I’m sorry,” voice dropping, quieter. Almost apologetic, “it has to be like this.”
The sorrow in his eyes is real. Genuine.
It changes absolutely nothing about the pace of his hips.
Your breath comes in ragged gasps, chest heaving as he adjusts his grip — one hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your leg higher, spreading you wider.
You can feel it…the hollowness spreads slowly through your limbs like something being gently, methodically unplugged.
"Kaz..." Your voice comes out smaller than you want it to. "Kazuha, you said…hah y-you always said–"
"I know what I said." He says it softly, watching your face with that unbearable attentiveness, like he's memorizing something. "I meant it. Every word."
His hips roll forward, slow and thorough, and the sound that escapes you isn't angry at all. "I still mean it."
"Tch then why–"
"Because–" and here his composure cracks, "you were gunna to leave n' not come back- heh." fingers fondling your nipple, making you arch just perfectly into him as he pumps his thickened inches through every peak.
"And- I found," he continues, breathless now, white hair falling across his face as he drives deeper, "that I believe in your freedom–" thrust "completely–" thrust "except for that."
The boat sways, adding more force to his thrusts.
He chuckles darkly to himself, a tone you've never heard before. He swirls n' swirls his globular tip, the perfect rounded shape to press into your nerves.
And somewhere in the growing heaviness behind your eyes, you're realizing horribly, humiliatingly... that your hips have started moving back to meet him.
Kazuha notices it, his eyes going soft, reaching up to cup your cheek with a gentleness that has absolutely no friggin business being here right now.
"See?" like he's been waiting this whole time to say it. "Isn't this better than leaving?"
You don't answer, you can't tell anymore if the withdrawal is talking or something worse.
He angled slightly – deeper, more deliberate – and your whole body lurches forward with it, the ropes catching you, swinging you right back onto him.
Sloppy sounds fill up the whole cabin until there's no room for anything else. Including your thoughts.
They keep arriving slower now, holding more weight, and you're not sure if you can keep holding onto hate anymore.
Or even remember why you were so upset in the first place.
He feels it immediately – the shift in you. Kazuha has always been terrifyingly good at reading things.
Wind.
Weather...The exact moment you're about to stop denying him.
"Ah-" You gasp- he grinds into your poor, bruised g-spot. "I-i… m’still f-fuckin’ angryy–"
"Of course," kissing up your neck, he inhaled deeply, smiling against you, "You're allowed to be."
"That's not-" A whine punches out of you when he rolls his hips just so. "That's not what I– ngh– t-that's not the point!—"
"Then what is my love?"
And you open your mouth to tell him. You have the answer…you know you do, it was right there a moment ago, something about how wrong this is, something about him taking your vision, something about how this isn't what you wanted.
His shaft drags slowww and thoroughly across that spot inside you, and every single word dissolves.
"Hm~?" Kazuha waits expectantly as the thoughts leave your face, morphing into something that isn't guilt anymore.
"It's alright." He presses a kiss to your temple. "You don't have to say it."
…He's already decided, somewhere in that poetic, completely unwell little heart of his, that this is love. That this is the right thing, that you'll understand eventually.
"Fuhck- ah! Kazu—" hips rolling back to meet him before you even register doing it—He shivers a single tremor moving through that carefully composed body, his breath catching audibly.
His rhythm stutters for just a fraction of a second. And then it happens — the thing he's been holding back since he tied you in the boats for days now.
"Y-you feel—" He stops, then tries again. "You feel so—" he really can't finish it.
Those eyes have gone somewhere glassy and distant — still looking at you, but seeing something past the surface of you, something he's been navigating toward for a very long time-
Both arms wrapping around you, silk ropes and all, folding you into him like something he's been holding in his hands for years and is only now allowing himself to keep.
His cock pulses deep. His breath comes apart completely.
"Don't leave," he moans into your hair, and it’s not a request or a command either. He’s already made up his mind and refuses to be argued with. “Don't leave. Don't leave. Don't—"
Your mouth falls slack, and you bring what little energy you have to bite into your fist as you scream, cumming all over his shaft.
Your walls clenching around him, as a sound slipped out, one you're sure you’ll be embarrassed about later.
Kazuha grunts, a hand jumping to his mouth, trying not to be loud.
Juices connecting you two, losing the careful rhythm entirely, and then he's shuddering against you, spilling deep, face buried in your neck, lips moving against your skin in something that might be your name or might be an unhinged poem or both.
Your vision flickers once behind him…going out.
…
The boat rocks gently in the silence that follows, his arms wrapped around you, holding you softly.
After a long moment, you hear him sigh.
"Im sorry..." A pause. "I just thought this was kinder."
🐊 KINICH — Got his lick back
SMACK!
"AH—!"
The sharp crack of his palm against your ass echoes through the room like a hunter’s whip.
Your cry breaks out raw and humiliating, but Kinich doesn’t give you a second to breathe. His hand stays glued to the stinging flesh, squeezing hard enough to feel the heat bloom under his fingers while his other hand slides between your slick thighs.
“Spread.” Flat. Commanding. No room for argument.
You don’t.
So he forces you anyway — two fingers pushing past your dripping folds, stretching you open with that terrifying precision, curling right against the soft, spongy spot that makes your vision spark white.
The second your hips jerk forward to escape, his fist locks into your hair and yanks you right back onto his lap like a leash.
“Already this wet?” A low, almost thoughtful hum leaves him as he pulls his fingers free.
A thick, glossy string of your slick stretches between your hole and his fingertip, catching the low light.
“Running again… but your pussy keeps begging me to stay.”
You try to snap something back — anything — but he’s already lining up. The flared, swollen head of his cock nudges against your entrance once, twice, then pushes in with one merciless slide that steals every word from your throat.
“F-fuck- Kinich-!”
He bottoms out in one smooth glide, stretching you wide around his thick length until you feel him pressing right against the entrance of your womb.
Buried deep, letting your walls flutter and clench desperately around him while his breath ghosts hot against the back of your neck.
“You keep running,” he says quietly, almost thoughtfully, as he pulls back just enough to slam in again. The wet slap of skin on skin is filthy.
“Every time I tell you to stay. Every time you look at me like you’re already gone.”
SMACK!
Your body jerks hard at the next spank, a broken cry ripping from your throat.
Before you can crawl away, his arm hooks around your waist and hauls you right back down onto his cock, pinning you flat to the slick floor. The woven texture bites into your tits and stomach as he forces you to take every brutal inch.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he growls low, the first real crack in that calm tone.
His hips snap forward harder, cockhead smacking mercilessly into your cunt with every precise thrust. “You’re not leaving Natlan. Not again.”
Smooth, deep rolls of his hips that drag his veiny length along every sensitive ridge inside you. Your voice climbs higher, cracking on whimpers you can’t swallow down.
Drool slips from the corner of your mouth onto the floor while your thighs shake violently.
“Kinich-! puhleaseeee- it’s too much—”
“It’s not.” Another punishing thrust. “You can take it. You will.”
His hand snakes underneath you, fingers finding your swollen clit.
He pinches and rolls merciless little circles that have your walls clamping down around his cock like a vice. Your whole body seizes, pussy gushing slick down his length as he keeps fucking you through it.
“Don’t know why- Ngh-,” he rasps against your neck, voice fraying at the edges now, breath coming shorter. “Y’kept leaving me. Why ya- won’t stay put. ”
"Th-that's not— ah— that's not your problem!-"
"You made it my problem." A thrust that punches the air clean out of you. “So I found a solution. Gonna fill this tight little cunt until you’re swollen with my kid. Then you won’t have a choice.”
The words hit you like lightning. Your mind blanks for a second– “Wai-what—”
His cock swirls deep.
Pushing deeeep, his fingers pick up pace on your clit, dragging you toward something you've been denying this whole time, your walls fluttering desperately, your voice climbing so high it cracks—“No!- t-that’s genuinely insane!”
"It isn’t." He held a small, satisfied smile.
"That’s not a solution, that’s literally—fuckkkk!"
But your body betrays you completely, cutting you off. Your walls flutter wildly around him, milking his cock as a devastating orgasm rips through you.
You came hard, screaming into the floor, tears streaming, thighs clamping shut around his hand while your pussy spasms and gushes.
Kinich groans low, the sound raw and animalistic, the first time that perfect hunter composure truly fractures.
His hips stutter once, twice, then he buries himself to the hilt with a sharp snap, pressing so deep you swear you feel him in your throat.
“HNGH!—”
Thick, hot ropes of cum flood your womb — pulse after heavy pulse, so much and so warm it spills out around his pulsing cock almost instantly, smearing sticky and obscene between your bodies.
Grinding deep through every wave, slow and deliberate, like he’s determined to push every drop as far inside you as physically possible.
His arm stays locked tight around your middle, tattooed bicep flexing against your stomach, holding you exactly where he wants you.
“…Your body thinks it’s a perfect solution,” he breathes against your sweat-damp neck, voice hoarse but still terrifyingly calm. “Stop fighting it.”
You’re still shaking, still fluttering around his spent cock, when the reality crashes back in.
Tears prick hot at the corners of your eyes as you try to twist away from him, voice cracking with raw upset.
“No,” you choke out, voice hoarse and furious even while your pussy keeps weakly clenching around him like it’s trying to keep every drop he just gave you.
“I’m not getting pregnant. I’m not letting you trap me like this— you can’t just- you can’t-”
He doesn’t pull out.
If anything, Kinich sinks a little deeper, grinding the head of his cock against your overfilled cervix like he’s sealing it. His lips brush the shell of your ear, calm as ever, but the grip on your waist tightens possessively.
“You already are,” he stares, almost fondly. “Or you will be. Soon.”
You pushed him off hard, “Like hell–”
.
.
🐊
A month later, the humid air inside the Scions of Canopys midwife’s hut feels too thick to breathe.
You’re sitting on the low mat, knees drawn tight together like that might somehow undo everything, while the older woman hums softly and presses careful fingers along your lower belly.
Nausea still clings to the back of your throat. Your breasts ache. Certain smells make you want to retch.
You already know what she’s going to say.
Your captor behind you like a silent sentinel — arms loosely crossed, green-gold eyes half-lidded but missing nothing.
The midwife finally sits back on her heels, expression unreadable for a long beat.
“Congratulations! You're expecting,” she says, no question in her voice, your stomach dropping.
“It seems you're a month along, oh! The baby is healthy…you would be due…”
As the midwife drones on and on, pointing at the chart, you craned your head to glare at Kinich meeting his expectant gaze.
His expression, for once, was readable, and it only conveyed one thing:
‘You can deny it all you want, you’re stuck.’
🐊 LOHEN — Denial is a river
“LOHEN LET ME DOWN—YOU DONE LOST YO MIND.”
You thrashed wildly, hanging upside down from the thick rope coiled tight around your ankle.
The world swayed in sickening circles, blood rushing straight to your head while your own heartbeat hammered in your ears.
Dignity? Gone. Long gone.
Meanwhile, Lohen was losing his shit.
Full-body, stomach-clenching laughter poured out of him as he bent over, one hand braced on his knee, as if he might actually collapse from how hilarious you were.
Red eyes squinted with pure delight, tears pricking at the corners while he wheezed.
“HA- holy shit!-” He dragged in a gasping breath, still grinning like a maniac. “You really walked straight into that one. Fuck, you’re adorable.~”
He finally straightened up and stalked closer, head tilted as he studied your flushed, upside-down face.
That manic little smile curled slowly and hungrily across his lips, one that promised nothing good.
“You actually thought you could escape me?” he cooed, voice dripping with fake sympathy. “Cute. Real cute.”
You glared hard enough to burn holes through him.
Lohen only stepped even closer, until he was right in front of your swaying body.
Two fingers reached out and squished your cheeks together like you were some grumpy little creature he’d caught.
“Look at that face,~” he sang, eyes sparkling with pure unhinged joy.
You jerked your head and sank your teeth into his thumb — hard.
A low, genuine, filthy sound punched straight out of his chest. His eyes fluttered, lashes kissing his cheeks.
You pulled back, staring at him in pure disgust and disbelief.
He stared right back, looking almost surprised at himself for half a second… before that wild grin crawled back onto his face, twice as wide.
“Fuck I think I just came a bit…Do that again.”
This fucking freak
His hand finds your face again - cradles it, almost, which was somehow more unsettling than if he'd gripped it.
Thumb pressing into your cheek while your head kept spinning, and the rope creaked above you.
“You’re turning such a pretty shade.~” voice soft and sweet like poison. “Wow, are ya really that happy I’m touching you?”
“YOU PSYCHOTIC LITTLE—”
“Mhm,” Lohen cut you off smoothly, not even listening. His eyes dragged over you slowly and warmly, completely shameless. “Most people would’ve seen the rope, y’know,” he said, like you weren’t literally hanging upside down from his trap.
“Well, most people aren’t being fucking hunted-”
“Nope.” His thumb traced the line of your jaw, gentle and obsessive all at once.
“Just you… ‘cause iiiii loooove yooouuu.~” He drew the words out in that obnoxious, singsong way that made your skin crawl and your stomach flip at the same time.
You rolled your eyes so hard it made you dizzy.
Lohen hummed, tilting his head as he watched you sway.
That dangerous little smile never left his face while he tapped one finger against his chin like he was thinking.
“Now~” he purred, smirk widening with wicked promise.
“How should we fix that nasty little attitude of yours…?”
Fuck
.
.
🐊
“Cmon what are ya waitingggg forrr?”
You’re straddling him, completely humiliated, his thick cock buried to the hilt inside you while he lounges back like he doesn’t have a single care in the world.
Hands tucked lazily behind his head, mint-green hair splayed wild across the grass, that damn beauty mark crinkling as he grins up at you with pure psychotic delight.
You’re not moving.
Not one fucking inch, half out of overstimulation, half out of pure spite.
SMACK!
His palm cracks hard across your ass, the sharp sting making you jerk upward with a broken yelp.
The sudden movement drags your dripping walls along every veiny inch of him, Lohen moaning loud and shameless beneath you, biting his lips like he just tasted heaven.
“There ya gooo~” he coos, voice syrupy sweet with fake innocence. “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“I fuckin’ hate you—”
“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs, low and wheezy, eyes sparkling as he tracks every furious twitch on your face. “You gonna move properly, or do I gotta smack that pretty ass red again?”
You barely move.
Slow. Grudging.
The most resentful little roll of your hips that’s ever existed.
Throwing his head back he bursts into loud, unhinged laughter. “HAHAAH— fuck, look at you! So madddd~ So fucking upset and still creaming all over my cock.”
“Are you deadass right now-? Of course I’m mad-!”
“Faster.”
“What—?”
“Faster,” he repeats helpfully, tilting his head with that manic little grin. “You’re going reeeaaally slow, baby. My dick’s getting bored.”
You’re going to kill him.
Fuck it.
You’re going to cum and then kill him.
But your cunt says otherwise, pussy fluttering and sucking greedily around his thick length, no matter how much you glare at him.
Lohen’s eyes darken with hungry delight. He suddenly sits up, arms wrapping around your waist like steel bands, yanking you down flush against his chest.
Shaft grinding deep, bullying right against that spongy spot inside you that makes your vision spark white.
“F—fuck,” he hisses through clenched teeth, that primal edge slipping into his voice. “One more, yeah? Just one more f'me, pretty thing.”
“Lohen, you’ve said that,” You batted your eyes, fighting the pleasure, “-for hours, lemme go!”
“Mmm, doesn’t sound like an answer,” he purrs, rolling his hips up in a filthy, precise way that makes your toes curl. “Doesn’t sound like you’re saying no to me.”
He doesn’t even wait for your reply.
His forearms hook under your thighs, spreading you wide open like a ragdoll as he starts rutting up into you harder.
Wet, sloppy sounds fill the air with every thrust — squelch-squelch-squelch — his cockhead kissing your cervix over and over like he’s trying to knock right through it.
“Hm? Hah- mmph!, seems like someone agrees with me.~” he laughs breathlessly against your ear, nipping at the shell with sharp teeth. “Your pussy’s the one begging for more. Greedy little thing keeps gulping me down like she never wants me to leave.~”
You try to squirm, try to plant your feet and lift off him even a little, but Lohen just tightens his grip and fucks up into you even meaner, bouncing you on his cock like you weigh nothing.
“Hahhh?? Running again~?” he tuts, voice mockingly sweet. “Nahhh, we still got s’much more rounds to go, baby. Five? Or is it six? I lost count already.”
Your mind was blanking out; you've been doing this for so long, you couldn’t even form coherent sentences. “Fuh- no- mgh- I’m d-done!”
"Your pussy's not done~."
“My- p-puhssy–! Don’t getta vote!” You shatter instantly — eyes rolling back, a broken scream ripping out of you as your sixth orgasm crashes through your exhausted body.
Lohen screams loudly while your walls milk him tight, but he doesn’t stop.
“Ohh-Fuck fuck fuck! Here’s ah!- another one, baby!-” Cumming hard with you, filling you up - he keeps thrusting through your high, chasing every last flutter like a man possessed.
Thick, hot ropes of cum flooding your already overstuffed cunt. Grinding deeper, chasing every last flutter like a man completely possessed.
“Mmm—hah, there it is,~” he moans happily, beauty mark crinkling as he grins against your sweat-slick neck. Mint-green hair sticks to his forehead, messy and wild. “Good girl. That wasn’t for you, though~ That was all for this pretty pussy of mine.”
You’re sobbing now, chest heaving, body twitching uncontrollably in his lap. But Lohen just keeps bouncing you on his still-hard cock, slow and filthy, like he could do this forever.
“And she’s telling me…” he drawls, voice sing-song dropping into something darker, more dangerous, lips brushing your ear, “that you can handle three more.♡”
You flop forward against his chest, boneless and whimpering, barely able to hold yourself up. “A-asshole… h-hate you…”
Lohen’s manic laughter rings in your ear as he flips you onto your back in one smooth motion, never once letting his cock slip out of your spasming heat.
“Keep fighting it, baby. Keep telling me how much you hate me.” He leans down, eyes glowing with lovesick affection as he starts pounding you into the grass. “Makes my dick so fucking hard when you lie like that.”
You cry out, nails raking down his back as he folds you nearly in half, knees pressed to your chest.
Every thrust is loud, messy, obscene — the constant squelch of his cum being fucked deeper into you, the slap of skin, your broken sobs mixing with his breathless laughter.
“Look at her,” he coos, glancing down between your bodies where his cock disappears into your puffy, cream-filled pussy. “Still sucking me in so hungrily. Seems like she doesn’t wanna let go, does she?”
“Stop- I can’t-!!”
“You can,” he laughs softly, leaning down to bite your bottom lip. “And you will. ‘Cause every time you say you’re done… this cute cunt just begs for more.”
Picking up speed, pounding you into the grass with relentless, mind-melting strokes. Staring straight into your tear-filled eyes, beauty mark crinkling with that same unhinged grin.
“Three more, f’me baby. Then maybe- maybe I’ll let ya rest.~” His hands push your legs up to your head, angling deeper, making your eyes roll.
“Or maybe I’ll just keep going until you forget how to say the word ‘no’ at all.~”
🐊 LYNEY — Hole dirtier than laundry!
You're so sure you're going to fucking suffocate at this rate.
Lyney’s perched on your face like he weighs nothing, knees planted on either side of your head in the middle of his messy bed, sheets already twisted and half-pulled off the mattress.
That skimpy little lingerie set he’d been hiding under his coat all evening still clinging to his slender frame—purple lace stretched taut over his flushed cock, the thin strap of the thong shoved to the side so his pretty, leaking hole could sit right against your mouth.
The fabric’s soaked through already and so is he.
He’d wanted this for weeks.
The filthy thought had lived rent-free in that pretty head of his ever since the first time you turned your face away from his goodnight kiss.
Then again, when you shoved his hand off your waist.
Then again, when you told him to “fuck off” like it was nothing.
Every denial made it worse.
He got nervous—actually nervous—thinking you’d hate it.
That you’d push him off and call him disgusting for wanting something so selfish, so greedy.
But tonight you’d denied him one too many times, pushed him away with that same cold little glare, and this was the perfect excuse.
Discipline
Clean. Simple.
He could finally do it and blame you for making him snap.
Except he's the one losing his breath — soft, shaky exhales spilling from those painted lips every time your tongue brushes against his rim. That carefully constructed composure dissolves, piece by piece, every time you move beneath him.
“Mmmh—!” He grinds down harder, your hands flailing against his thighs, nails digging into lace and soft skin. “Cat got your tongue, mon amour~?”
His voice is all theatrical breathiness, that signature charm cracking at the edges.
Shifting his weight just enough for you to gasp in a desperate breath, only to sink back down again — ass firmly planted on your face, rolling his hips in slow, filthy circles.
The wet heat of his hole drags over your lips, your tongue, smearing slick and lube everywhere.
The sound Lyney makes when you're forced to lick him is loud enough that the entire wing's probably filing a noise complaint right now.
Ash-blond hair with that tiny braid falls messily around his face, violet eyes fluttering shut, cat-like pupils blown wide.
“F-fuck… just like- that!—ngh!”
His slender fingers fist the sheets above your head, hips twitching every time your tongue pushes inside.
“D-didn’t think you’d be so… eager to clean me up after all those- ah! Nasty words you threw at me this week. You sure you didn’t want this?~”
He laughs breathless, a little unhinged—and the sound melts into another whimper when you suck on his rim trying to get air.
The lingerie thong keeps slipping back into place, and he has to keep tugging it aside with shaky fingers, the lace now completely drenched.
"Haah — look at you. Flailing around.~" Another slow grind, deliberate and mean, his cock twitching hard against the lace as it leaks onto his stomach. "But you're not pushing me off, are you? No… you're licking deeper. Mmph!~."
You thrash hard, punching at his thighs, trying to get this sick man off your face. He either mistakes it for enthusiasm or simply doesn't care — the effect is the same.
His thighs shake harder, athletic muscles flexing as he rides your tongue with more urgency. That guarded side is completely gone.
Replaced by something rawer.
The need to be wanted so badly that it overrides everything else.
"Keep going, mon amour," he pants, voice pitching higher, "because if you stop — hngh — I swear I'll sit here until morning. Until you forget every nasty word you said to me… and only remember this."
His fingers thread into your hair, tugging just enough to tilt your face exactly where he wants it.
Not until he’s satisfied. Not until you’re his again—completely.
He can feel it building — hot, coiling, dangerous. And he refuses to finish like this, not when he hasn't taken everything.
With a shaky laugh that doesn't quite hide the edge beneath it, Lyney finally lifts off your face — justttt enough for you to drag in a ragged breath, spit and slick smeared across your lips.
Lungs burning as you try to speak—“Lyney, wait—” and before you can get a single word out-
His cock impales your mouth in one smooth thrust—thick, leaking, stretching your lips wide around the base of his shaft.
You choke instantly, eyes watering, the sudden fullness reducing every word you had to a wet gluck-gluck-gluck.
His thighs lock firmly beside your head. "Mmmph — there we go." He rocks into your throat with shallow, greedy thrusts, voice dropping as his face disappears between your thighs. "That's it. Let me feel how sorry you are."
Leaning down his tongue is immediate and merciless — lapping, sucking, flicking over your clit with a precision that feels almost unfair.
One hand grips your thigh hard enough to bruise. The other presses flat against your stomach, pinning you exactly where he wants you.
You push at his hips, a muffled protest vibrating around his length — he just rolls deeper, unhurried, his cock fucks your mouth in the same rhythm.
The room echoes with the wet sounds of him thrusting into your throat, mixed with the slurps of his mouth on your cunt.
"Don't- fight it, mon amour," he groans against your spreaded folds, the words vibrating straight into your core. "You don't get to push me away anymore. Not after all those mean words."
He sucks hard on your clit, hips stuttering as he holds back his own orgasm. "Not after telling me to leave like I'm nothing."
The lace thong is still tangled around his balls, rubbing against the bridge of your nose with every shallow thrust. His tongue curls, teasing your entrance before plunging inside—matching the way his cock bullies the back of your throat.
Your moans of reluctant protest are drowned out by his cock, completely overstimulated by how much of him you're feeling at once.
Every thrust pushes him deeper, every swirl of his tongue makes your legs shake. Whimpering into your cunt, the sound vibrating through you, but the words that slip out between licks are pure silk-wrapped venom.
"If I have to do this every night until you stop denying me—" A sharp suck on your clit. "—then I will."
His cock throbs heavily on your tongue. "I'll keep you right here. Until the only thing you know how to do is stay."
You try to pull off—hands slapping at his hips, a broken sob ripping from your throat around his shaft—but he just angles deeper.
The filthy gluck-gluck-gluck of him fucking your mouth fills your brain, your eyes streaming tears that mix with the spit dripping down your chin.
And he doesn’t stop, tongue lashes harder between your folds, sucking your clit into his mouth with a lewd pop! before flattening it again.
Mean. Possessive. Trying to pull your orgasm out by force.
Your thighs shake around his head, hips jerking up involuntarily as the pressure coils tighter-too much, too fast, too-
You cum with a shattered cry that vibrates straight down his cock.
Creamy slick gushes over his tongue, thighs clamping around his ears, and Lyney moans like he’s the one breaking. Holding himself right there on the edge—cock twitching wildly in your throat—until your walls start fluttering hard.
“F-fuck—ngh, that’s it—give it to me-”
His cock pulses hard on your tongue, swelling thicker, and then he’s cumming too.
Rope after rope shoots straight down your throat, thick and hot, until you’re choking on it, coughing up his seed around the length still buried between your lips.
He doesn’t pull out. Just keeps shallow-thrusting through it, forcing you to swallow every drop while he drinks you down like he’s dying of thirst.
The room spins. Your lungs burn. Tears won’t stop. While Lyney stays there a second longer, chest heaving, hips still twitching with the aftershocks.
Panting, he eased cock from your mouth with a slurp!
Strings of cum and spit connect your swollen lips to his tip. Lyney watches it break with half-lidded violet eyes, his cheek flushed red.
You’re still sobbing softly, chest heaving, when he finally flips around. He curls over you, pressing soft kisses to your tear-streaked cheeks, your trembling lips, like he didn’t just fuck your face and sit on you for "punishment".
“Shhh… mon amour,” he whispers, voice sweet as sugar, thumb brushing your bottom lip. “See? Wasn’t so bad. You took me so well… my perfect little assistant.”
Lyney's fingers thread back into your hair, holding you there as he nuzzles against your neck.
“You’re not going anywhere tonight.” A soft, theatrical little laugh brushes your ear.
“Or tomorrow.”
He kisses the corner of your mouth, tasting himself on you.
“Or ever.”
🐊 XIAO — Bite first. Regret later
BAM!
"I'm leaving- ” The wall meets your back before you finish the sentence. “-Xiao. I mean it this–"
The impact rattled your teeth, your breath was punched clean out of your lungs, he was just across the room, teleporting in a haze of green and black, shoving you against the wall.
Another sharp gasp to follow when Xiao drove into you again, deeper, meaner, like he was trying to carve his place inside you permanently.
This is the problem.
This has always been the problem.
He doesn't talk to you, doesn't tell you he needs you, doesn't acknowledge what this even is, what you are to him — just pulls you close when it gets too heavy and expects that to be enough.
Weeks of silence.
Weeks of watching him look straight through you like you're something precious he refuses to name because naming it would make it real, and real things can be taken away.
You're exhausted.
Your legs stayed locked tight around his narrow waist, thighs trembling violently.
"I—" You push at his shoulders. He doesn't move. "Stop. I said I'm leaving—"
The only thing keeping you from sliding down the wall was his iron grip on your ass, fingers imprinting in so deep you knew they’d leave bruises shaped like his hands for days.
Xiao doesn’t respond, no words, or explanation — just eyes burning with determined focus
The tattoo on his arm bleeds green into the dark.
"Let me go." Flat. Furious. You dig your nails in hard. "I- ah! Mean it! I'm n-not doing this anymore, I can't keep– pretending-!"
He looks at you.
Amber eyes completely unguarded for once — staring at you like you've already got one foot out the door and he's watching it happen and he still, still cannot make himself say the words that would fix it. Jaw locked tight, breathing ragged.
Hitting that little spot inside you, your whole argument stutters. "That's not—"
You try to hold onto the thread of it. "That's not good enough, you can't just — this doesn't fix anything—"
He drives deeper. Your back hits the wall harder.
"Xiao!"
Nothing.
Just that devastating eye contact and the brutal, relentless pace of him, he's decided if he can't say it, he'll just make you feel it instead.
Your nails rake down his arms. "Oh-! This is- fuck! Insane. Shit! Your hurtin!- You can't keep doing this and expect me to stay!-" You twist, trying to get leverage.
His hand wraps around your throat, forehead dropping to yours, eyes closing, and he stays there breathing hard while his hips find a slower, deeper angle that makes your vision dissolve at the edges.
The weight of his karmic debt presses down on the room like a physical thing. Ozone and something older, darker, filling your lungs with every breath.
You're furious, shaking, and overwhelmed.
But believe it or not, he was terrified of hurting you.
And yet he couldn’t stop.
"Shit, what do you want from me!?"
Instead of answering, he just bites down on your throat instead. Sharp. Claiming. So suddenly, your whole body arches into him against every intention you had.
A broken sound tears out of you—high and pathetic—and you immediately hate yourself for letting it slip.
Teeth sinking in harder, not enough to break skin but enough to mark, enough to own, and your cunt clenches around him so violently it makes him stutter.
Yanking you up higher, forcing your back to scrape against the wall, making you cry out in pain- as he drives in deeper.
The anger frays at the edges where the pleasure keeps burning straight through—white-hot and unforgiving.
“I h-hate you-” you gasp. Not true. Completely not true, and you both know it.
“You’re so—” Another broken moan cuts you off, raw and humiliating. “Infuriating.”
He makes a sound against your neck. Low. Pained. Even that tiny admission costs him something precious.
Still nothing.
You’re crying now—angry tears spilling hot and fast down your face, your body betraying you completely as he drives you up the wall again and again.
Each thrust shoves you higher toward something you don’t want to give him.
“Please,” you break, hating how small and wrecked it comes out. “Please just say it. Tell me you need me. Tell me I’m—that I’m yours, that this means something, that you’re not just going to let me disappear one day and feel nothing—” His entire body goes rigid.
Exhaling, his hand slides from your throat to cradle the back of your head.
His forehead presses so hard to yours it almost hurts, eyes squeezed shut, hips grinding deep and slow and devastatingly deliberate now.
Every roll of his hips drags his cock against that spot inside you that makes your toes curl and your vision spark white.
He still doesn’t say it, waiting for you to say exactly what he wants to hear.
Xiao pulls you in so tight you can’t tell where he ends, and you begin anymore. Your breast presses hard against his chest, breath coming in short gasps from how tight he’s holding you, bruises already beginning to bloom.
Maybe...
“I’m staying,” you whisper, defeated, wrecked, voice cracking on every syllable. “I-i’m yours. I’m not leaving. Just—don’t let go.”
The sound he makes is quiet.
Devastated and relieved in a way that breaks your heart a little. He comes with his face buried in your neck, shaking hard, one arm locked around your waist like even now he doesn’t trust you won’t vanish.
Thick, hot ropes of cum flood you—spurt after spurt—while his teeth stay sunk into your throat, muffling the broken groan that vibrates against your skin.
He keeps rolling through it, slow and possessive, making sure every drop stays deep inside you.
Afterward, the room is just breathing. Heavy. Sticky. Charged. Then, so quiet it barely exists:
“…Again.”
Not another round, you know that.
He wants to hear it again—the words he can’t say himself, confirmed in your voice, real and present and not leaving.
“I’m yours, Xiao.” You press your lips to his temple, voice hoarse and trembling. “I’m staying.”
His grip tightens instantly. Fingers digging back into your ass, cock still buried to the hilt and twitching inside you like it’s trying to root there forever.
Xiao still doesn’t say it back; you already know how he feels.
The dark, suffocating truth that settles in the quiet—in the iron grip of his arms and the door you both know he’d never let you reach—is that staying was never really your choice to make.
It stopped being your choice a long time ago.
…Some sick, exhausted piece of you doesn’t even want the choice anymore.
there’s something sinister about the way satoru looks at you.
maybe sinister isn’t the right word, because it’s not unwelcome. it’s not malicious either, just unfamiliar. subtle yet so forward, and so unlike the carefree version of him that you’d come to know.
he stopped looking at you through a barrier last week. started pulling his blindfold down to peer at you through his icy lashes, blue irises on full display.
he pushes through the discomfort just to look at you without anything in the way. ignores the sudden onslaught of light piercing through his sclera because you are much more important. you can see it in the way his pupils retract, then expand again. rejecting the sight in front of them then swallowing as much of it as they can because his brain finally registers that it’s you.
you could almost never tell where his eyes were focused before this all started, but something about the way his head would shift when you’d enter the room usually told you that his sights weren’t set too far from you.
it was always a slight change. a shift of the chin. only a centimeter difference, if even that. a subtle glance over whenever you’d laugh, maybe a more obvious one if the cause of that laugh was another man. either way, the weight of the 6 eyes on you was unmistakable.
you’re in the conference room alone together the first time he pulls his blindfold down fully. babbling on about the instructor presentation schedule this week, maybe something more. you can’t recall much besides the sight five deft fingers wrapped around dark silk, pulling until you’re face to face with a shade of blue so enamoring you’re not even sure it has a name.
gojo smiles when your tangent rattles to a stop, punctuating the silence with the softest laugh.
“did you sleep good last night?” he asks, eyes searching your face like they’ll somehow pull the answer out themselves.
“yeah, why?” he softens at that, like the knowledge of whether or not you did had been weighing on his mind.
“good. you look nice today.” is all he offers you before he pulls the blindfold back up, slipping out of the conference room, leaving you to grapple with the knowledge that you’re on his mind a lot more than you’d think.
Thinking about how Alastor’s and Rosie's powers are foils to each other.
Light and dark. Flowers and shadows. It's like Rosie gave him all of her darkness. It's like she was waiting for someone evil to the bottom of their soul and who couldn't be corrupted further. "When I heard your voice, I just knew you were the one." She was waiting for someone like him.
