nothing, and i mean NOTHING, compares to joining a new fandom and reading through all the ____ x reader tags. it’s akin to opening gifts on christmas or recieving a package in the mail. actually, scratch that; it’s th equivalent of ascending to the heavens
𐔌 cw: religion mentions and not in a good light, purity themes and mild virginity loss, low honor arthur to high honor, children, minor pregnancy as in past, smut as always .ᐟ
good girls gather for morning prayer ahead of the dawn, just as the townsfolk only begin to stretch in their wooden creaking beds and rise to splash cold water upon their faces. it is the hour when the church bell rings out, piercing the quiet in the very same manner as the wheat golden sunbeams slicing through the vibrant stained glass windows. they part lips soft as petals to whisper their hymns and devotion, their quivering eyelashes sweeping low against sleep warmed cheeks.
while delicate fingers clutch the crosses dangling from their necks, seeking to feel grounded against the god's unspoken presence. good girls wear long, modest skirts and immaculate, crease free blouses tucked perfectly into their waistbands. they are ever mindful never to expose so much as an ankle, watching their every step when moving through the sanctuary like the morning mist that has yet to melt after the night’s bone chilling cold.
a good girl would know better than letting a ferocious hound inside. it is a hostile creature, its mouth drooling froth, so starkly different from the gentle dogs that wander the grounds searching for a small scrap and a soft pat. its blood should never paint the sanctuary's threshold with the deep cranberry red, no matter how severe the gash.
yet, you parted the heavy timber door wide and allowed him to step into the sacred quiet, growling low from his robust chest and limping with a staggering gait, the holstered revolver rustling too loudly in the serene space. you refused to look at the glinting metal, completely unbothered by how his warm blood stained the cuff of your tightly buttoned blouse, dampening the ivory fabric. gathering bandages and a needle, you mended his flesh as though stitching a delicate pattern across fabric held taut by an embroidery hoop.
looking directly into his turquoise irises, the eyes of a man, not a hound, which reflected an agony far deeper than any wound left by a passing bullet. it was a sorrow that squeezed his ribcage tightly enough to splinter bone, pausing only when the first web like fractures began to spread. a pain you recognized without a word, an echo of something you had once felt yourself, but had either locked away or forced to forget.
“do ya reckon there’s redemption fowah men who have lived a bad life, sweetheart?” his voice was pitched low, dragging as a guttural rasp until he cleared his throat to sound less like a broken man. his dense eyebrows creased in a heavy, brooding manner you had never been permitted to emulate, deepening the permanent lines etched into his weary forehead.
“we have all lived bad lives” you hummed, tone a melodious chime that rivaled any songbird. methodically, you bound his sun bronzed skin back together, stitching neatly until the wound was closed and edges neat, dainty fingertips grazing over sinewy muscle as you wrapped the linen bandages around the bicep, watching the ropey tension loosen it's hold.
good girls never allowed an outlaw to spread them wide and wanting across a timeworn bench. their modest navy blue skirts, tailored strictly to conceal, were never meant to be hiked up and bunched messily against their arching hips. nor were their split drawers ever meant to dangle uselessly from a single ankle, yet there they hung, surrendered simply because he demanded to see every hidden inch of your touch tender flesh.
with wooden cross clung flat against your warm sternum, pinned there by a sticky sweat that spread a glowing sheen, right between the bouncing swell of your breasts. they had sprung free from their confinement the moment he ruthlessly ripped your blouse open, sending the ivory buttons scattering across the floor. beneath your feet, the lost fasteners rolled through the shadows, catching the vibrant, jewel toned colors that the towering stained glass windows cast down onto the scuffed floorboards.
he watches with charcoal pupils blown wide at the way his blushing red cock stretches your virgin cunt open, parting for him without much resistance, glossy from slick and sloppy wet, snug walls so warm around his girthy length. his pudgy midriff rippled and went taut, loose trousers hung low, and his wrinkled striped shirt shifting just enough to lend a peek at the trail of dark, brownish hair clearing a path down past his navel.
he's panting, jaw muscle leaping once before chapped lips part to grit out a filthy moan, scarred hips angling to pummel into your soppy hole, slick webbing in strings that stretch when he slips in and out. nicked thumb and forefinger closing around your peaky nipple and squeezing until you yowl, but cling with sharp fingernails to his bulk bunched arm.
still, he's looking at you like committing something sacrilegious, even as his gaze switches from your spread, glazed folds to face scrunched in pure pleasure, learning his name from jagged rasp mid ramming thrust. moaning a saccharine “arthur!” loud enough for god to cover from, feeling like a bird with it's wings unfurling, even when he's spurting seed deep and tacky into your satiating cunt.
accepting every droplet with clamped pulses, you look gratified, and still his face twists like he's fucked you by force. stained something he had no right to even lay a hand upon, rough, calloused fingers loosening their desperate grip around your squishy hip, shaking with a deep tremor wracking his large hands. the hot sweat that drenched his nape already turning cold against his skin, caught as dewdrops.
arthur left without a syllable, no parting kiss, no fragmented apology, though he chewed on the inside of his cheek as if carrying a torrent of unspoken thoughts. you dragged your discarded drawers back up your legs slowly, not minding the way his spent seed ran a milky trail down the cream soft skin of your thighs.
your blouse buttons still lay scattered across the floorboards, baring mellow breasts and aching nipples immodestly to the sacred room, but you still held yourself with a dignity he completely lacked as his clumsy, heavy fingers fought with his trousers and gun belt. too pretty eyes for a man like him narrowing into tight slits, a hard squint fixed at the wreckage he was leaving behind.
his turbulent irises flitted from the pearlescent puddle glistening on the wooden bench to the vulnerable state you were in, skin bare and legs wobbling like a trapped fawn's. he wanted to wrap his coat around you, the way a decent man would. he wanted to scoop those ivory buttons one by one into his weathered palm and return them to you, but he was no decent man.
so he left like a coward, like a beaten mongrel with its tail tucked, neither looking nor feeling as any ordinary outlaw would have, sated and proud of his conquest. standing at the threshold, he paused to look back over his brawny shoulder, holding the heavy timber doors parted. you did not weep, nor did you hurl the bitter accusations he had actively braced himself to hear, stumbling over your feet to chase him. you only watched as he stood in a pool of his own blood, before he crossed the threshold and left you behind utterly alone.
arthur did not return for months, and you refused to seek him out, even when a persistent nausea began to color your mornings. when you finally visited the doctor for a checkup, you already knew what was coming by the way the old man pursed his lips tightly and adjusted his crooked spectacles with visible nervousness. recognizing by your lack of joyful tears that the life now stirring within your womb had not been planned. still, you did not search for arthur.
early spring slowly bled into late autumn, the leaves shedding their green for a burning orange, framing the freshly painted white church, a sanctuary from which you had been banished by judging glares and hushed, venomous whispers. now, the baby girl balanced on your hip looked exactly like him. her seafoam eyes were fringed by wispy, tawny eyelashes, long enough to brush her rounded cheekbones just as his once had, quivering restlessly whenever they met your gaze with that same restless, searching look.
she babbled softly, reaching for your collar with a tiny, curled fist and scrunching her eyebrows as if telling you something of monumental importance, perhaps offering her own thoughts on the pie crust you were currently mixing in a bowl. the knock at the door came strong and impatient. it wasn't the first, but you had missed all the previous ones, your ears only now straining toward the rattling sound.
even your daughter stopped her quiet cooing. peeking through the window beside you, past the sheer curtains and delicate lace embroidery, you caught sight of a silhouette on your porch, broader and far more massive than the neighbor women who usually visited your cottage to offer empty, hollow condolences.
the knocking ceased as you crossed the floorboards, ancient timber too warped to hide the sound, footsteps drawing to the entrance. and just as your fingers cracked the latch and pulled, the sudden guest cornered right into your space, your daughter's eyes looked right back at you from his worn, rugged face.
the west had taken its brutal toll to arthur, a truth visible to the naked eye. his beard grew longer than it had been on that day, when the scars on his chin were still clear, now shaped into an unruly, coarse thicket with russet hairs curling at the very edges. lavender hued bruises formed exhausted circles beneath his eyes, yet those gaze remained as captivating as ever, vivid in their color, two distinct shades sharing a single, heavy look.
his hair was wild, growing past his ears and scattering messily across a wrinkled forehead, as if the wind had played with it or he had been running for his life. his brawny chest heaved beneath a disheveled plaid collar, the fabric crumpled and his fur coat sleeve slipping off one broad shoulder. a bruised crimson flushed his face, not from the sun’s cruel glare, but from the biting cold and sheer haste, to reach this town, to reach your porch.
you watched as his scarred fingers trembled with a barely noticeable tremor when he finally lifted his hand. his gaze, wild as a prey animal that knows it is soon to be slaughtered, switched frantically between you and your sugary sweet baby girl, unsure of where to land. his lips, far paler than the peachy tint you remembered, were bitten raw from nerves, the uneven flesh parting around words that refused to slip out before closing once more.
slowly, his fingers outstretched further, until his calloused fingertips gently grazed your daughter’s chubby cheek. she did not weep, nor did she try to hide within the cotton ruffles at your chest. it was as if she knew. arthur needed no further confirmation, his lips pursed and crooked nose crinkled, fighting to hold back an emotion he could not yet release “i—i’m. . aah tried. . i—” he managed to rasp, even as his voice quavered into the cold air.
he tried to explain his absence, stumbling over the words, his movements heavy and hesitant. he was still reeling, unable to fully ground himself because the violence of what he had abandoned to get to you still rotted deep within his chest. still, you stepped forward, reaching out until your daughter was gently pressed between your chests, securely supported.
his large arm bent instinctively, scooping the little girl into his hold as well, broad, calloused palm flattening against your own, almost lacing his fingers through yours. you cupped his jaw, the angular curve fitting perfectly into your touch, a familiarity far greater than he had ever permitted you to take back then.
as you lured him inside, shushing him with a honeyed whisper “it’s alright. . i understand” arthur shook his head once in a dull, silent protest, but still followed you step by step into the house. he even bent his massive frame to try and tug his heavy boots off at the threshold, but you reached out once more, grasping his coat sleeve to guide him further into the cottage.
past the counter where the flour for the pie crust sat untouched, and into the dim space where the old wallpaper was flaking off the corners of the walls, which nonetheless managed to hold the welcoming aroma of butter and sweet jam. your daughter murmured a tiny, quiet coo, her grabby hands waving up as if calling to him, too, and he went without resistance.
even after you placed her into the crib, with the autumn wind rattling the loose windowpanes and the bedside candle threw a weak, shivering shadow across the quilt, he didn't leave. he sat heavily at the bed's edge, the old mattress sagging under his sheer weight, wooden frame groaning. he’d hung his heavy coat on your unstable hall tree, boots discarded at the bedroom doorway, driven by a protective urge not to track dirt across the room where his baby slept.
“she's yours” you whispered into the quiet, breaking the long silence after he had spent hours simply watching the baby sleep in her tiny crib. the girl looked so much like him it made him want to rip his own face off, not because he resented their bloodline, but because his mug was plastered on every goddamned bounty board and brick wall in the country.
it was obvious, painfully so, yet you offered the reassurance anyway, not to remind him of his burden, but to help him find an anchor. you stood by his side, slipping out of your day dress and into a soft chemise, fabric rustling with the same sound leaves do when kissing under summer breeze. it was well past midnight, and he’d shot down every gesture of comfort, turned away the tea, the coffee, the hot food.
you’d gone ahead and mixed the pie crust, while he had simply sat in the corner, watching your body move without uttering a single word, just as he was doing now. “aah know, god— aah know” he rasped, voice a low, guttural croak that filled the bedroom. you stepped up behind him, laying a tender hand upon his shoulder and using your thumb to soothe the tense line of his neck, sweeping up and down.
arthur let out a rough breath and caved, a subtle shift of his weight as his massive frame finally went lax, the rigid knots in his muscles unravelling one by one, much like a clew. moving in front of him, you gently pressed against his chest, forcing him back until his elbows dug into the sheets, and you slid your weight onto his taut lap. his throat arched as you bent your head, plump lips finding his to press a soft, lingering kiss against the corner of parting mouth.
he didn't fight it, but he didn't touch you either, his brow creasing when you tried to guide his hands to your waist, as if you were telling him you can touch me, here i am, earning a troubled scowl. his hooded, bloodshot gaze fell to your thighs as they parted, where your sheer chemise bunched up, accentuating bared skin and soft curves completely exposed under his gaze.
clearly mangling something deeply rooted, a man you still had to fully unravel, bound together as you two were by such a strange, unforgiving fate. finally, arthur's palms fell against your waist, clamped at the slope, hoisting you up and off his lap with a tight grip. you managed only a startled squeak before your spine molded against the blanket, head cushioned by the pillows.
he collapsed against you, face buried at your chest and his nose flattening deep against your collarbones, lingering there, so you let him stay. his large hands cupped the space beneath your ribs, mapping their outline perfectly, while your arms looped tightly around his sturdy back. staring blindly at the ceiling, you listened to the howling wind outside, wondering where this road would take you both.
arthur x female REVERSE COWGIRL or normal cowgirl BUT LIKE SHE WEARS HIS HAT i feel like hes a loud moaner.. just me?
reverse cowgirl riding 𝓐𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒖𝒓 𝓜𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒂𝒏 I͙ 🙂↕️
cw. ⌇ dubious content. shit-talking sex. reader talked a big game, and arthur is testing her on it. forced creampie, unprotected sex.
“well, c’m on.” arthur said encouragingly, nodding at his lazily undone lap, gesturing towards the obvious. his bulge still sat packed away tightly in his garments and has been throbbing since it was snug against the denim’s zipper moments ago. “said you was gon’ show me what you were made of.” he continued to comment, pulling at the sides of your hips in an effort of snatching you up and setting you down. arthur didn’t feel like doing any of the work, not this time, but he’d still be sure to set you in your place—literally, your thighs now hung off the sides of his groin, your heated core now grinding into his swollen set. “or was that all talk, too, huh .ᐣ ” he asked once, his back resting against the wooden headboard. “huh .ᐣ ” he beckoned again, expecting an answer. he sat up, rocking his hips back and forth as if he were showing you how to get started. his hands searched, one settled for the curve of your ass, the other was bouncing between the throat of your neck and the strands of hair, choosing where he should begin to grip and grab at. he was sick of your shit, and finally full enough to fail at upholding himself from your teasing temptations and that smart-running mouth of yours.
“would you shut up .ᐣ ” you barked at him, pushing your palm to his chest to return his back against the board. ‘hmm.’ arthur moaned, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. he was right where he wanted to be.
“an’ if i don’t .ᐣ ” arthur said back at you, pulling your face closer to kiss your lips needingly. he was well entertained, enriched and as hard as a rock from the talking tension. his tip was a weeping, leaking mess, but he remained patient; waiting for you to free it from its fabric hold. “you’ll change your mind .ᐣ ” he asked, mockingly. “get yourself off .ᐣ ” he poked at, thrusting upward in between connecting kisses. “i know you hear me talkin’ to you.” his mouth moved to your nape, sucking the skin and sure to leave small bruises for tomorrow.
“arthur,” you fumbled out, the sensation of his tongue dragging along your skin sizzled your thoughts, you needed him off of you to be able to think straight. the second shove sufficed. a loud thud echoed the room as his head smacked into the panel. “there she is.” he said with a laugh and a lustful glimmer in his eyes, he was more than ready to be used.
“come on.” arthur was becoming desperate, but his voice stayed soft in his sarcasm. you slid your hands below your body and into his waistline, raising yourself off of his thighs up enough to let his dick spring free. he groaned at the relief, throbbing instantly with his vocal moan. looking down, you had pooled just enough salvia to spit onto the end of his thickness. you sat again on his now-free weighty sack, your own wetness seeping onto his skin. your toes tucked into the hips of his bones, nestling neatly to keep you secured. leaning over, you held your weight in your hips as you reached over for his hat. it was resting on the bedside table, and arthur always thought his brown and bird-feathered brim looked better on you, anyway.
you placed it on the crown of your head, tipping it towards him with a wink. it was a quick blink, but one he was sure to catch, he was aching underneath you now. before settling in, you swung your legs to twist and turn until your back was flush against his chest. leaning down to grab a hold of his ankles, you showed your whole body to him. he was watching as you moved your ass, shaking it slightly to keep him quiet. his leeching hands split you apart, looking at every last detail; and all of his muscles seemed to simultaneously singe with wicked urges, ready to ram it in if you didn’t hurry up. “christ.” arthur cried out, spreading your legs and humping his best attempt.
you had his swollen shaft in your hold before you were seated again, lining it up with the small slit that sits between your lips. “think i’m full of it, now .ᐣ ” you asked while hovering over him, waiting to hear him out before sinking yourself down own it. “huh .ᐣ ” you said in the same tone he did, cocking your head to the side in waiting for his response.
“still haven’t done it,” arthur spoke into your neck, sweeping your hair out of the way, fighting your pushback to fuck up into your sweet spot. your free hand clawed at his thigh, holding him off but not for much longer. arthur easily overpowered you. “so you tell me.” he said with ease as this wasn’t much of a struggle for him. “are you goin’ to fuck me or not .ᐣ ” he was spitting into your ear, sinking the tip in dangerously with each shove you pushed further away. a tug-of-war, and arthur was winning.
his voice was so dark, demanding even. each taste of it made his growl grow deeper. arthur only sounded like this in rarer occasions, and it was something that could bring you down to your jellied knees for him like nothing else. “when’re you gonna learn .ᐣ ” arthur’s rhetorical words caressed your ear. you had lost, he sank himself into your tight pussy; grunting in heavy breaths as he fucked and filled his way inside— showing that you never truly stood a fair chance, after all. but it was you who was supposed to be doing the work. after a moment, you steadied your hands to arthur’s still-jeaned thighs, clinging onto the material to distribute your weight more evenly.
rocking your hips back and forth, you found a pleasing pace to get used to him with. it always took a bit, never being able to take it all at once, arthur was the perfect anchor to tether yourself to. slowly, you loosened up just enough to enjoy it even more. the position was tricky, painful for you both if you bent against his natural curve too far. arthur slid down the bedspread an inch more, creating a gap for you to fuck your self so faithfully in.
he was able to watch your shallow cunt swallow him halfway whole, dis-and-reappearing with each bob you bounced your ass at in front of him. half his shaft coated in a clear cum, wet from making you work for it. a substance that turned a solid, white cream the more rhythmic your thrusts became.
“shittin’ me, maybe you do know what’chur talkin’ about, girl.” arthur groaned out, his pecks tightening with restricted chords. his veins and vessels were running blood through their tracks faster than any stagecoach or train robbery has yet.
“ain’t seen nothin’ yet, cowboy.” you smiled as you said back at him, dropping to a more comfortable spot, resting on your laid elbows and forearms. here was how you could really throw it, the fat of your ass waving like water, pulling arthur in in more ways than one, up and down, he was entranced.
before he could get over the last set of movements, you had already switched to new ones. he was as stretched as his skin would let him, heat red, and radiating warmth inside of you. rolling your hips, it allowed you to plant your feet— side by side, the balls of your ankle bones sat snuggly into the outside of arthur’s thighs. “come on, honey.” he understood what you were doing, assisting you up in snaking his hand around your lower stomach, dipping his fingers down to where it was drenched. he touched the base of his cock before dragging his fingers along to find your clit. “show me.” he said, matching your speed with his own rhyme to sink the rest of his dick in.
he was so gentle, so sweet in helping you take the stress off of your knees; the two of you were in pure harmony. arthur’s strong arms lifted your thighs perfectly as you pushed your heels into the bed; lunging you up and down on his harden dick. he let go only to watch the weight of your cheeks ripple and rock against his abdomen, trying not to cum from the view.
“darlin’’ he warned once. “you gotta—” arthur tried, tapping the warm flesh of your side; his sign of needing a break. he was so close to cumming, and unluckily for him, you were aware of that, too. arthur breathed out, defeated at the sight and feeling; all being too much. just like your pleas had been earlier, his signals went ignored. his hands flew to your sides, lifting you once more in a much more desperate way. you fought with him, clutching to the cloth before you grabbed the pockets of his pants to lock your hips further down onto him. he was going to fill you. “fuckin’” arthur’s voice collapsed in his callout, “hell.” he said a final time as he came. hot, sticky semen filled your sweet and pretty pussy in ropes of white warmth. it was blissful, feeling so full of arthur’s supply.. pent up and bothering him for days now, driving his desire behind his as-of-late, smart-ass remarks. hearing and watching arthur in this state was the very force that drove you over the edge most of the time; nothing could compare to the witnessing of him unfolding. you felt yourself constrict around him, draining him dry of any spare seed that he may have had left for you. your moans were melodic, whining out as arthur stuffed you full.
synopsis. nat meets the shyest potential hook-up she's ever laid eyes on.
pairing: natalie scatorccio x selective mute!reader
genre: 18+, fluff
wc: 2,356
fic note. this is just how i experience my mutism :)
· · 𖦹 · ·
you've been glued to this seat ever since your friend left.
you keep trying to get up and leave, but the thought of walking across the bar in front of all these people makes you faint. and your legs won't move, no matter how many times you yell at yourself to just get the fuck and leave so you can get out of here.
the drink you've been nursing for nearly 30 minutes is gone. all that's left is melted ice cubes and a lime that you've been squeezing to keep yourself busy.
you look around the bar again, trying to convince yourself that no one's even looking and that you can easily slip outside into safety, but you just freeze up again. your whole body tenses and you sweat with fear. frowning, you turn back in your seat and face the bar again, picking up the straw in your empty drink.
someone's leather jacket brushes up against your shoulder as they swoop in beside you. as you peek out of the corner of your eye, you can spot an old bleach job at the ends of her hair, but as your eyes travel higher, it turns into a dark brown.
you can feel her looking at you. it makes your face heat up and your heart pound. she leans her arm against the bar counter and slumps against it, dipping her head to the side and trying to get you to look at her.
the straw you're playing with snaps in two.
the girl leans in close and whispers near your ear. "can i buy you another drink?"
her husky voice sends shivers down your spine, making all the hair on your body stand straight up. you gulp, biting the inside of your lip as you turn to face her. holy fuck, she's so pretty. and she's trying to hit on you. and your mouth feels like cotton.
and you're going to ruin this, aren't you?
you nod gently, cheeks flaming as she grins and grabs the attention of the bartender to order you another drink. you're slightly jealous it's so easy for her. if you had done it, he probably would've ignored you and made you look like a complete idiot.
she pushes the drink toward you, and you nod at her with a tiny smile. you grow self-conscious as she watches you take a sip, her eyes dropping to the way you lick your lips afterwards.
"i'm nat." she leans in again, but this time her lips are grazing against your ear.
you have to respond now. fuck. it's a simple response, one you've done millions of times. but also one you've ignored because you couldn't open your mouth.
just like now.
the all-too-familiar choking feeling in your throat starts, and it even hurts to swallow as you try to ignore it and open your mouth. your face burns with embarrassment as she looks at you, her eyes scanning your face, finding herself endeared by your shyness.
you start to feel very uncomfortable now, even despite liking her clearly hitting on you. but you never know what to do in these situations. your pursuer usually ends up getting annoyed with your inability to talk and leaves.
all you can muster is an uneasy smile. you keep avoiding her eyes, feeling both uncomfortable and shy from how intensely she's looking at you, waiting for you. your thighs hurt from digging your nails into them so roughly while she smiles lightly and stares at you.
you hear her chuckle lightly, and your stomach fills with dread. she's gonna leave, isn't she? or worse, make fun of you. your mind starts to race, and you desperately try to scream at yourself to just blurt your name out. that's all you have to do. that's all you have to say to make her stay.
"i like you." she places her hand over your thigh, the one you're currently not scratching up. she squeezes it gently, the cool touch from her rings a stark contrast against your blazing skin. "i was watching you from across the bar. i had to come over and say hi, try to shoot my shot."
oh, god. you don't even wanna know for how long. how embarrassing.
nat grins while watching you dip your head to try and hide your face. she finds it endearing. she's completely charmed by you and your shyness. she's dealt with a few shy girls in her life, but none like you. at this point, the girl would've spoken, would've at least said her name and given her more than head nods and head shakes. you haven't said a single word.
there are only two things she can think about: getting to break you, and getting to take you home.
she doesn't think you're uncomfortable with her advances, at least she hopes you aren't. she hopes you would've shooed her away by now, and you're not just putting up with her just because you're too scared to speak up.
she has to know.
"do you want me to leave you alone?" she asks, digging her fingers into your thigh to make you look at her again. her flirty tone is gone, replaced with sincerity. when you immediately shake your head no, she smiles, a wave of relief washing over her.
she's glad you want her to stay. you've captivated her. it's not what she usually feels toward girls she wants a one-night stand with. i mean, of course, she wants you in her bed, but she wouldn't be mad if you overstayed your welcome.
nat scoots in closer and snakes her hand across your back, resting her hand on your hip. she licks her lips close by your ear, and the smack of her lips that you hear makes your stomach flip. she reaches for her drink on the bar counter and takes a sip. you're so close that you can hear her tiny gulps, and you're hypnotized by her throat bobbing up and down. when she sets her drink down, and you see her lips shining with vodka, all you wanna do is lean forward and lick it off.
but you don't. you just glance at them while she looks around the bar and the crowd of people. you feel like you got caught when her head suddenly turns to you again, and you bite the inside of your lip while bowing your head down.
"let me take you back to my place? i'd love to introduce you to my bed."
i bet it's seen many people, is what you would have said, if you could.
but your heart starts pounding at the thought of this gorgeous girl having her way with you. you nod a few times, trying to let her know that yes, you very much do consent.
nat gives you a cocky smile and offers you her hand. the second you take it, she's leading you out of the bar and down the street where her car is parked. you're a bit shocked when she stops in front of a black porsche and opens the passenger door for you. it smells like a mix of weed, cigarettes, and booze when you get in and buckle yourself.
the car ride to her house is a nice kind of awkward. just her trying to talk to you and you nodding while she's looking at the road. you have to hum in response sometimes, but the more she talks about what she wants to do with you, the more your throat starts to open up.
"so," she starts, sneaking a hand over to rest on your lap. "are you gonna tell me your name? i have to know it if i wanna moan it while i'm fucking you."
you chew on your lip, considering it. even though you're semi-warmed up to her, and you know how much she wants you, the choked-up feeling in your stomach and throat is still persistent. but, you manage to swallow it down, forcing your mouth open so you can speak.
you mutter your name out, hoping she understood what you said because it would be mortifying to hear her ask for you to speak up.
nat turns to you in surprise, and your ears start to burn when you see a smile growing on her face. a smug one at that.
"so you can speak?" if anyone else had said that, you would've hated it. but right now, it makes you flush and nod. "you sound pretty. i bet your moans are even prettier, though."
;
she's trying to get your clothes off the second you walk through her apartment door, just so desperate and needy and giving you sloppy kisses while fumbling with the button on your pants. you grip her leather jacket as she pushes you toward her bedroom, not wanting to trip on your own feet because she's still kissing and groping you and making you feel very fuzzy in the head.
she has you pressed firmly into the side of the doorframe while she blindly feels up her wall for the light, and once she's got it on, she picks you up and carries you over to her bed. she places you in the middle and bends down to kiss you a bit more, her mind telling her to pull away so she can take off her clothes, but she gets lost in hearing your quiet sighs while her tongue explores your mouth.
eventually, she gets too overwhelmed with the urge to feel your skin on hers, and she pulls away. she thinks you look so pretty with your swollen lips and blown-out pupils. all she can do is stare and admire you while she shakes off her jacket and slips off her shirt. while she's busy taking her jeans off, and after you stop drooling at the sight of her strap bulge, you think it's best to start undressing yourself. shaky hands lift your shirt off your body and throw it on her bedroom floor. the cold air hitting your body makes your nipples stiffen, and you bite your lip while slouching back against the headboard and removing your jeans. nat helps you out and tugs them off your ankles like she's in a hurry, her hands immediately grab onto your legs and pull you close to her.
your crotch is flush against her front, her strap rests against your stomach, and you feel faint at how many inches are gonna be inside of you.
nat slowly begins to thrust, almost like she's teasing you with how big it is. her hands wander your body, groping and squeezing every inch of skin that she can. her thumb swipes against your hardening nipple, and she watches with slight disappointment as you bite your lip to hide the sounds she knows are so pretty.
maybe she'll just have to try harder.
she pinches it between her fingers, tugging and pulling while her eyes look down at you darkly.
she feels you squeeze your thighs around hers, hips moving up ever so slightly to try and grind against her strap.
you hold your breath as she grips it, nails digging into her sheets as you feel the tip poking at your entrance.
"you're already so wet," she says it breathlessly, looking down at your wet crotch and licking her lips. "were you wet back at the bar, or are you just pathetic and get wet from a few kisses?"
you nod to the first one, but of course, she doesn't know that. she grins and laughs either way, her stomach flipping at the thought of you being drenched while still so, so shy.
the tip of her strap sinks in just a little more, and nat's ears twitch at the sound of a faint moan coming from you. she removes her hand from the shaft and places both hands on either side of your head while gently thrusting inside. she stares at your lips, which are currently thin from you trying to suppress your whines. nat leans down and captures them, and your hands instinctively fly to her back to hold. she hopes with her lips on yours, you won't be able to hide your sounds. it's all she wants to hear.
she wants to break you, make it so you can't even control yourself while she's deep inside you. she wants you to let loose, be as loud as you want.
she doesn't get what she's hoping for when she bottoms out completely, but she does get the satisfaction of you clawing up her back while wiggling her hips and making sure you feel her strap deep in your stomach.
"moan for me, baby." nat places hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck as she starts thrusting hard, and you can feel her smiling against your skin when you arch your back and dig your nails deeper into her freckled back. she holds her breath while listening out for your moans, ends up panting into your chest after holding it for so long.
but it doesn't take long to go dumb on her strap, and you find that tightness in your throat disappearing. your mouth, which was clamped shut, slowly opens. and when nat slams her hips roughly into yours, you can't even move your mouth in time to try and hide it. you can't move your mouth at all, in fact. you're just slumped against the bed, your body feeling like jelly as nat uses your body.
nat coos at you, your little moans making her heart thump and her body all fuzzy. "that's it, just let it out." she chuckles to herself as you whine and grunt, and it spurs her on to fuck you harder and faster.
"mhhh-nat!" she's the only thing you feel, only thing on your mind.
nat's smile grows bigger, to the point where she can feel it stretching her cheeks. the room fills with the sound of skin slapping against each other and your rowdy cries.
ASMODEUS × MC : Being the two most famous pornstars in Devildom, it's just about time you two make the biggest collab.
WARNINGS: Grammar errors, spelling errors, slight toxic behaviors, pornstars, slight toxic behavior, heavy breeding themes, female reader, really dirty words, overstimulation, Mentions of orgasm control, cum retention, mean character, succubus reader, consent is important guys but in this fic it was given behind the cams ;)
LINKS: Masterlist, Kinktober 2025
TAGLIST: @angelishs @zarakem @cruzerforce4256 @nine-coliection-room @distructive-gamer @aria-again @xxshadyladyxx-blog @ellee3 @hello-kitty-number-1-fan @leviathans-fish @katsuwifey @angelbabyy111 @urfavsatellite @lovelytwixx @chirikoheina @apersonveryfanofomori @meimeiixi @bumble-beel @binamina (If you want to be added, just tell me!)
ASMODEUS smirked at your exhausted face on camera. He knew you're famous for your stamina and he has been testing you by fucking you non-stop for hours now without breaking a sweat. He spreads your legs wider and starts pounding into you again. "Look at her..."
"There she is. The great pornstar reduced to a whimpering mess. Can't even keep up with my cock. You all hyped her up so much... She's just another weak little fuck toy!~" He leaned in closer to the camera with a mocking smirk.
He continues to fuck you brutally, his hips slapping against yours with each powerful thrust. The camera captures every detail of your exhausted face, your swollen pussy being stretched by his massive cock. "Look at those pretty eyes rolling back. Where's that famous stamina now?~" He laughs softly.
"Y-You...!"
He chuckles darkly at your fragmented protest, his small body moving with supernatural energy. "Yes, baby? You going to say something? Like how you're supposed to be the queen of stamina?" He slaps your pussy hard, making it jiggle. "Eight hours in..."
He leans down, his voice low and mocking in your ear. "And you're already falling apart. Pathetic. They built you up so much... 'The Pornstar with Infinite Stamina'. Turns out you're just another fuck doll with a pretty face~"
Asmo smirks against your neck, feeling your walls tighten around his dick. He's been purposefully dragging out your orgasm for hours, denying you the release you desperately need. But now, with his cruel words and brutal fucking, he finally pushes you over the edge. "There it is,"
He bites your neck hard as you start to cum, his hips moving at a punishing pace. The camera captures your face contorting in pleasure-pain, your mouth open in a silent scream. He grins wickedly. "Cumming already? Without permission?" He slaps your clit, prolonging your orgasm. "Bad girl..."
"N-No...!"
He ignores your protest and keeps fucking you through your orgasm, drawing it out until you're a sobbing, trembling mess. Only then does he pull out, allowing your pussy to clamp shut with a loud pop. "There we go... Good girl broken~" He smiles cruelly at the camera.
Asml wipes his cock off on your thigh, already hardening again. He looks at the camera, then back at you. "What position next? Let's see... How about something really degrading for my little pornstar." He thinks for a moment before grinning maliciously.
He flips you onto your stomach abruptly, forcing your face down into the pillow. He spreads your legs wide and pushes your ass up high, exposing your swollen pussy and sensitive clit to the camera. He grabs a pillow and places it under your hips to lift you higher. "Perfect!~"
He runs his tongue along your swollen lips, tasting your juices mixed with his own cum. He laughs softly against your pussy. "Look at this sensitive little thing... A pornstar who can't even handle eight hours of dicking without cumming like a slut~"
He chuckles darkly as his creampie spills out of your pussy with just one lick. He spreads your cheeks apart and pushes two fingers inside your messy hole, scooping out more of his cum. "Fucking pathetic... One lick and my creampie falls out."
He holds up his cum-covered fingers to the camera, showing off the mess that spilled out of you. "What should I do with this disgraceful pornstar? She can't even keep my cum inside her pussy for five minutes." He waits for comments to roll in. "Suggestions?~"
Comments flood in, each one suggesting more humiliating punishments.
'Make her clean your cock with her mouth'
'Force her to walk around with your cum dripping out'
'Pound her until she learns to keep cum inside her pussy'
"Look at all these ideas..."
He smirks at the comment 'Pound her until she learns to keep cum inside her pussy'. He nods in agreement. "Alright, that's a good one. Let's teach this pornstar a lesson about keeping Asmo's cum inside her holes." He grabs some lube from the side table. "Let's get started!~"
He pounded your pussy mercilessly for hours, his thick dick stretching you wide open. Your pussy was red and swollen, dripping with his creampies. Every time you thought you might be able to keep his cum inside, he'd pull out and spurt more inside you.
"Such a good little whore, taking Asmo's cock so nicely. But you can't even keep my cum inside you, can you? Pathetic little pornstar. You're just a hole to fill, aren't you?" He slaps your pussy softly between brutal thrusts.
Comments are going wild, encouraging him to destroy your pussy.
"Fuck yes, destroy that pornstar pussy!"
"She was supposed to be good at this?"
"I've seen better cum retention from amateurs!"
He reads them aloud, laughing and thrusting harder.
He pulls out slowly, his cock coated in both of your juices and leaking cum. He looks at your red, abused pussy and shakes his head. "We can keep going like this all night, but you'll never learn to keep cum inside that sloppy hole."
"So, what should we do instead? I'm not stopping fucking you anytime soon, and you're clearly not cut out for this 'keeping dick inside' business." He taps his fingers on your hip, awaiting an answer. The comments section is filled with ideas. "What do you think?~"
His smile turns sadistic and cruel as an idea pops into his head. He spreads your legs wider apart, pulling out his massive cock only to slap it against your swollen pussy with force. "I've got a great idea... Since you can't keep cum inside your pussy..."
He runs his thumb along your belly button, pretending to trace the path to your womb. "I could just shoot my load directly into your womb instead of wasting it in your pathetic little pussy!~ What do you think about that, princess?"
Your eyes widened, "I... I might get pregnant..."
He laughs maniacally at your wide-eyed expression. "Oh, you think so?" He presses the head of his cock against your cervix, pushing slightly. "Well, that's the point, dumbass." He looks at the camera with a psychopathic grin.
"We've been fucking raw for hours, and you've already taken like ten or more creampies. What's one more straight into your uterus?" He circles your belly button with his thumb again. "You might just get knocked up tonight, Princess. How does that sound?"
He leans down close to your ear, whispering softly so the camera can't pick up his voice. "And maybe... just maybe, I'll finally have something of mine inside you permanently. No more sharing that pretty little pussy with other men." He kisses your neck gently.
"W-What are you talking about...?" You whispered through gritted teeth as to not be heard by the camera
He chuckles darkly, pulling back to look into your eyes. His expression turns serious and almost possessive. "You know exactly what I'm talking about, Princess." He pushes slightly harder against your cervix. "One good shoot directly into your womb..."
He leans in close again, his hot breath on your ear as he speaks softly. "And then you'll finally be truly mine. No more contracts, no more sharing you with other men. Just you and me, and a baby growing inside you." He bites your earlobe possessively. "My family."
He pulls out abruptly, leaving you empty and confused. He walks over to the camera, waving casually at the audience. "Alright folks, that's enough for tonight. Thanks for tuning in!" He ends the live stream abruptly, cutting off the comments and views. "Now..."
He turns back to you, his expression turning intense and serious. He walks back over to the bed, his massive cock still hard and glistening with your juices. "Time for the real thing, Princess." He grabs your hips roughly and flips you onto your stomach. "No more acting."
summary: lohen wants you to hit him, but you're a lover, not a fighter. he wracks his mind for a solution to his conundrum, only to settle on the best possible one: if he wants you to roundhouse him into next week, he'll just have to make you mad.
themes: established relationship, assistant-librarian!reader, attempt at humor, silly references, playfighting, floor sex, light teasing, insufferable!lohen, inspired by various lohen memes/tumblr postings, they're in love your honor ♡
word count: 3k | ao3
♡ (one of author's personal favorites)
You really weren’t sure you could follow this tutorial of his.
“So you step back with one foot like this,” Lohen said, tilting his body with the backward movement of his leg. “Then you hold your hands like this. One by your chin, one in front of you. And when you go to throw a punch, you just—.” He pivoted on his right foot, launching the fist by his chin straight forward as his body snapped with the motion.
“Wham! Like that.” He grinned, placing his hand on his hip. “Easy enough, yeah?”
You felt a nervous sweat dot your brow. Wringing your fingers before yourself, you said, “Um, show me again?”
“Sure, sure. Step back like this…one fist to your chin, the other in front…then wham!”
The way Lohen’s fist punched through the air was already giving you a heart attack. You gawked at him when he started to bounce back and forth on his heels, explaining to you, “You can even throw a jab like this! Then a straight! Then a good old uppercut!”
His lithe body moved through the steps as your mind struggled to come to terms with them. Massaging your hands together, you winced when Lohen let out an excited laugh. His crimson eyes twinkled as they stared at you, a smirk pushing one corner of his lips higher than the other.
“Oh, don’t look so scared. It kinda turns me on.”
“Shut up,” you said, heat pooling in your cheeks. “I just don’t want to hurt you.”
“What? That’s, like, kinda the whole point.” He grinned, popping his eyebrows at you. “Come on, you know you wanna try it. Give it a go. Hit me!”
He spanned his arms out like he was waiting for a hug, but you knew Lohen better than to assume that. You probably would have preferred if he was in a snuggling mood, though, because you weren’t even sure how to approach the act of punching your boyfriend in the face.
“I don’t know,” you stammered. “It doesn’t really feel natural. Like…I don’t think I’d be able to hit you just because you asked me to.”
“Bun, you’re overthinking it.” He flapped his fingers inwards, towards himself. The smug grin on his face persisted when he said, “Just do it. Will it help if I tell you I want it?”
Not really, because you could already tell that’s what he wanted.
“Hm.” Lohen crossed one arm over his chest, the other coming up with his pensive fist. He rubbed his chin, observing you with a raised eyebrow as he continued to let out thoughtful hums. He raised one eyebrow, let it fall, then raised the other eyebrow, and let that one fall too.
“Stop doing that,” you mumbled. “It makes me uncomfortable.”
“Oh yeah?” Lohen asked, shifting his brows across his forehead again. “Does it make you mad?”
“Not mad, just uncomfortable—.”
“What if I burned down the library?” he asked chipperly. “Would that make you mad?”
“What?! I’d be devastated!” you shot back. “Lisa and I have spent so long arranging every text in that library! There’s centuries of knowledge in there! You can’t just go and burn it down!”
“Mm,” Lohen said, his teeth biting into his grinning lower lip. “I like it when you yell at me…but I’m afraid that won’t stop me from burning your precious books to the ground, sweetheart.”
“You’re not actually going to do something like that. I know you’re just saying that. R-right?!”
The words left your lips, but your brain was already fixated on an image of chaos. Lohen, sneaking into the Knights of Favonius library with a match in his hand, waiting for you to organize every last book return and label each new addition before casually setting the place ablaze.
Oh, that was definitely a possible outcome. Knowing him, he’d be so covert about it that you wouldn’t even notice until the whole place was nothing but ashes.
“You’re maaad,” he said in a sing-song voice. “So mad you could punch me. Right?”
“Are you trying to threaten me into beating you?!”
“Pft! Oh, come on, you know I’d never do that! It’s just a bit of light coercion.”
Was he bluffing or was he serious? Did you really want to wait around and find out?
“Hey, what was the name of that porn book you’ve been reading?” Lohen asked, tapping his chin. “The one from that series you’ve been waiting on for the past two years?”
Your cheeks smoldered into flames. Indignantly, you snapped, “Fate’s Glimmer is not a porn book! It’s a romantic tragedy that analyzes the conflicts between conquest and birthright—!”
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Lohen waved his hand dismissively, his smirk growing wider. “I’m pretty sure you left your porn book on my nightstand. Wouldn’t you just hate if something were to happen to it? I mean, you went and got the collector’s edition and all…” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “Waste of money if you ask me. Why read porn when you could just fuck me—!”
—WHAP!
Lohen’s head whirled from the impact of your fist against his cheek, his words struck dead on his tongue. Your knuckles protested with throbbing pain, but by the Archons if it didn’t feel good to wipe that smug smile off his face. It was one thing for him to burn down the library, but to incinerate Fate’s Glimmer: Collector’s Edition Vol. 24? He had gone too far!
“It’s a romantic tragedy!” you barked. “It's a brilliant analysis on how war impacts families and intimate relationships! Any explicit content is solely for the purpose of accompanying the plot, but you wouldn’t understand that, you…! You…! Ugh!”
Lohen’s mouth hung open, his eyes wide during your whole tirade. As you came down from your moment of fury, you quickly snapped back to your senses.
You had just punched Lohen in the face. Over a book. You assaulted your boyfriend; over a novel.
You winced. “I’m sorry—.”
“—fuck,” Lohen said over you, red seeping into his face. He tongued at the inside of his cheek, moaning. “Good job, Bun. Now do it again.”
“You are just so—!” Your hands curled up into fists before you let out a ragged sigh. “No, I’m not going to hit you again!”
His eyes turned half-lidded, a perverse smile settling across his lips. Slowly, he drawled, “Then I guess I’m gonna piss in your porn book.”
Before you could stop yourself, your body was launching across the room, barreling straight into his.
Lohen liked playfighting a bit too much. Maybe it was because you’d stand no chance against him in a real fight—and you wouldn’t ever be foolish enough to try. Since he couldn’t spar with you, he spent most of his time finding other ways to force you into a tussle.
His face loomed over yours, cackling.
“Hey, Bun! Remind me what the characters in your ‘romantic tragedy’ were doing in that last chapter you told me about?!”
You let out an anguished groan, heat bathing your cheeks as you stared into his mocking red eyes. Lohen laughed, his hands pinning your shoulders to the ground, and in a teasing voice asked, “Why the hesitation, sweetheart? I thought it was an analysis on war!”
“Ugh, screw you!” you spat, pushing up into his chest with the flat of your palms. “Corina and Zand finally reunited after a whole year! It’s only natural for there to be tension!”
“And what did they do during their glorious reunion? What’d they do with all that tension—huh, Bun? Enlighten me!”
You shoved your body weight forward, and even though he was far stronger than you, he pretended to flip onto the ground anyway. He grinned from ear-to-ear as you sat atop of him, your hands curled into the collar of his shirt.
“They’re in love!” you sputtered, the burning sensation in your face intensifying. “They haven’t seen each other in a year! It’s only logical they would…!”
“It’s only logical they would…!” he mocked in a high-pitched, girly voice. “Logical they would what, Bun? Do a little bit of this?!”
You yelped when he bucked his hips underneath you, sending you bouncing atop his lap as his laughter filled your ears. You pressed your hand to his mouth, trying to suffocate those uncontrolled chortles under your palm, but Lohen only moaned and bit you.
“Ow!”
“You like that, bunny?” he asked, his grin splitting his face in two. “You wanna bounce on me just like Corina bounced on Zand?”
“Stop!” you whined, stuck between a strange cross of irritated and horny. “You’re so annoying!”
“That didn’t sound like a no to me!”
His hips popped up into yours again, the bulge in his trousers meeting the skirt of your dress. Glaring at him, you snapped, “You can’t seriously be horny right now!”
“Oh, yeah,” he groaned exaggeratedly. “Yell at me some more, won’t you, babe? I might just bust.”
“Why are you like this?!”
“Oh, I can be worse! Wanna hear my best impression of you when you’re bouncing on my dick?”
“No, of course I don’t—!”
“Ah, ah, ah!” he mimicked, rutting up against you all the while. “Lohen, slow down! I’m gonna cuuum!”
With a furious scream, you lifted him by his collar—which he let you do—before thrusting him back into the ground. His laugh was borderline-maniacal, tears budding at the corners of his eyes as he play-struggled beneath you. But before you could think to move, your world was spinning, and with your back pressed solidly into the ground, Lohen was on top of you again. He rutted against you with sharp, sporadic thrusts, mimicking, “Lohen, Lohen, Lohen!”
“Fucking stop it!” you blurted.
“Oh, but you’re wet, aren’t you? I don’t even have to touch you to feel it.”
No you were not wet for Lohen while he dryhumped you across the floor of your living room and imitated the way you moaned for him when he fucked the living soul out of you—.
“I’m wet,” you mumbled, your heart pounding against your ears.
“Of course you are,” he purred. “Your brain’s all addled from that porn book of yours. You don’t even notice how horny you get when you read it, do you?”
“Stop,” you complained, pressing your eyes closed. “I most definitely do not get horny while reading it.”
“You do,” he purred, hips rocking, hands rising to your face. “I sit and watch you read sometimes. When you start biting your lip, that’s how I know you’re at the smut part.”
“I don’t do that,” you protested.
“Yeah you do, Bun. And you start looking around too, trying to make sure I can’t see those filthy little pages of yours.”
Of course Lohen would notice something like that, even when you thought you were being covert about it. There wasn’t much you could hold over his head in the surprise variety—you even stopped trying to hide his birthday presents after the third foiled attempt. After you got together, he suggested that next time you cut the gimmicks and show up with a bow taped to your tits and a dagger in your hand.
Lohen’s laughter drove the scene from your mind. He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your mouth, after which he said, “Want me to fuck you?”
You closed your eyes and whimpered, “Yes.”
Your fingers curled into Lohen’s shoulders as he moved atop of you. Legs tucked over his back, you encouraged the forward motion of his hips with each of his hard thrusts. Lohen nibbled at your chin, his nails scratching against the hardwood floor beside your head.
“You’re so embarrassed,” Lohen said, laughing against your jaw. “How adorable.”
Your cunt throbbed in response to his provocation, squeezing around his girth. Lohen’s tongue plopped onto your chin, and with a lazy drag upwards, smeared his wet saliva all over your face. When he reached your mouth, you stubbornly kept your lips pressed closed.
“Huh?” he asked. “You don’t want your kisses? When you’re the one who always whines about them?”
He snapped his hips forward again, making you release a strained moan into the air. The way Lohen fucked into you mashed against the sweet bundle of nerves pocketed inside, and he wasn’t a stranger to abusing that. He angled himself better for it, and it was somewhat painful when he stabbed into it again, but your pleasure was undeniable. Lohen tried for your mouth again, and you quickly clamped your panting lips shut.
He chuckled, his teeth nipping your upper lip. You flinched, and he giggled more.
“You mad at me?” he asked teasingly. “Just ‘cause I made fun of you for reading erotica?”
Your brows furrowed together. “It’s not eroti—! Mm!”
Ah, he had gotten you with that one. While your mouth was open, snapping at him, he had leaned down to slot his against yours. His hot tongue broke past your lips, waltzing around between your teeth like it owned the place. He moaned against you, stroking his thumbs over your cheeks, and gave you another solid thrust.
Your nails dug into the fabric of his shirt. Eyes fluttering shut, you felt yourself slip into a state of pure bliss.
But then things started to get cold. You thought you were imagining it at first, that maybe it was just a shiver, but then your teeth started chattering against the soft of Lohen’s tongue. He crooned a naughty little giggle, and the reason behind your frigid state became startlingly clear.
Shuddering, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling his body further into yours. You turned your face away from his kiss, clinging to his warm frame as you barked, “Why are you doing that?”
Of course, you were referring to his inappropriate use of his cryo vision. Lohen snickered.
“I like it when you cling onto me,” he purred. “Makes me feel good.”
“It’s c-cold,” you complained.
“Then I guess you’ll have to cling a little bit harder.”
“Lohen…”
You groaned, but you wrapped yourself around him tighter anyway. With both arms and legs holding him in a vice-like grip, you hooked your chin over his shoulder, your cheeks warm. He nuzzled into the side of your face, pressing sloppy kisses to your cheek all the while. For a guy who complained about the mundanity of kisses and cuddles, he sure was a hypocrite whenever he was on top of you like this. You had even started wondering if he liked it more than you did.
Your palms, flat against his back, stroked across his blue button down. He let out a breath against your cheek.
“You feel good,” you murmured.
His hips stuttered. Lifting his face back over yours, Lohen grinned at you, red consuming his cheeks from ear to ear.
“Yeah?” he said. “You like me or something, Bun?”
You cracked a smile back, rolling your eyes. “You’re so silly.”
“Heh…cheeky girl. I’ll show you silly.”
He rammed into you harder, his brows furrowed, but with a satisfied smile still etched across his face. You moaned his name, your eyes trained on that wicked grin of his. When his mouth descended onto yours, you dug your nails into the fabric of his shirt.
“Mm,” he moaned. Between wet, sloppy mashes of his mouth against yours, “Gonna fuck you silly, Bun.”
Embarrassing, but you liked the sound of it.
“Gonna make you go, oh, Lohen!”
Okay, now he was just being a dick. Your cunt was still throbbing though, so what did that say about you?
“Ah, Lohen, stop!” he mocked, his shoulders shaking with his laughs. “Good impression, no?”
“Can you not make fun of me while you’re fucking me?!”
“Aw, but I like it! You’re so cute when you’re mad, Bun!”
“Just shut up and fuck me!” you sputtered.
“Ha! Well, if you insist.”
“Oh,” you moaned suddenly, feeling the stroke of his cock shift into a pound. His tip fucked that spot you adored like he’d never get a chance at it again, and as pleasure shot through your core in hot waves, you sputtered, “Yeah, just…just like that.”
“I’m gonna make a bingo card next time,” he purred. “Fill it full of the shit you say when you’re about to cum.”
Why, oh why did you like it when he made fun of you like that?
“I wonder if it’s gonna be slow down! or not yet! this time. What do you think, Bun?”
“Slow down,” you slurred, your heels digging into his hips. “Fuck, Lohen, slow down.”
“Like music to my ears.”
“I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered. “Please stop.”
“But I want you to cum, pretty girl.”
Oh fuck him.
Lohen laughed when you slipped into it, your hands clawing at the back of his shirt while you mewled and moaned the exact way he had made fun of you for. You felt the sting of his hips into yours, a bit of biting cold that he couldn’t control, preceded by the lively throb of his dick inside you. Your back arched as though you were being pulled to Celestia, but Lohen’s body kept you tethered, holding you right where you were.
“Fuuuck,” he drawled, his eyes unfocused. He grinned, but the expression twitched, shifting his face between a smug one and a desperate one. Fingers clawing into the floor beneath you, Lohen half-spat, half-moaned, “Bunny.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, you were cumming again—.
“Good…good job,” he said, his voice lilting into a whimper. “You’re my…my everything, Bunny.”
Tears budded at the corners of your eyes. Holding him ever so tight, you whined back, “I love you.”
He exhaled a shaky laugh. Lowering his head, the tip of his nose brushed against yours.
“Pretty girl,” he crooned. “I love you more.”
With an ear-splitting smile, tears ran down your cheeks as you laughed. Lohen craned down to kiss you, swallowing your giggles and salty tears along with your hot tongue.
“Mm,” he said when he withdrew. “Still gonna make that bingo card.”
Your smile immediately fell flat. Whamming your fists against his shoulders, Lohen only nuzzled into you and laughed.
What a pain of a boyfriend. He was stupid, reckless, and borderline psychotic.
Yet in the depths of your heart, you knew you wouldn’t want him any other way.
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✨⋆˙⟡ ad astra abyssosque! ⋆˙⟡✨
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Receiving that unforeseen proposal from the vice captain himself had sent the last remnants of the slightly sweet yellowish liquor down into the wrong pipe of the said grandmaster, who was now stunned at his boldness and then promptly choked on his drink, drawing nearby attention from drunk folks at the Angel's Share.
It took minimal endeavor for Varka to recover his bravado, coughing up the small amount of liquid that had entered his airway and loudly clearing his throat as if to emphasize his seriousness in the matter. He fixed the unfazed man with a steely gaze, firmly ramming his beer mug against the table, crossing his muscular arms as his back settled over the chair.
"Y'know, kid, I let you off chasing your thrill for violence because it's something you clearly have a passion for," he began, his voice low and thoughtful.
Lohen nodded in agreement; there was a slight twitch on the corners of his lips, betraying a hint of amusement and reminiscence.
Hm, the grandmaster wasn't incorrect in his observations. He had been consistent in his streak of recklessness and impulsiveness, always seeking out danger and excitement without much regard for consequences, causing everyone a headache at one point or another.
Now he's extending that migraine to the grandmaster for having the audacity to ask for his blessing on marrying his adoptive daughter.
Though he sensed more words lingering on the tip of Varka's tongue, he patiently allowed himself to be quiet and listen for a moment.
"However," the older man lifted his finger as an emphasis of the gravity of his next words, "you will not marry her," he said firmly, sizing up his fatherly glare to the boy's nonchalance.
Lohen cocked his head to the side, as if he didn't understand why the grandmaster would deny his heartfelt request. With a frown, he replied. "Why not? I'm more capable of protecting your daughter from harm than anyone else."
Varka stammered for a bit, attempting to make logic of his concerns before finally speaking. He sighed heavily, running a rough hand over his stressed face before answering, "Again, I don't doubt your capability of protecting her."
Lohen continued to press on the matter, his body slightly leaning over curiously. "Then what is the issue?"
Varka didn't respond right away, bringing out his emergency flat metal container of booze from the pockets of his jeans, uncapping the circular lid, and then replying. His eyes gently cast down at the awaiting drink. "[Y/N] is still trying to figure out what to do with her life."
He paused, taking a quick sip of the alcohol, and then continued with a sigh. "She just turned into a lovely young woman and has stuff that she is passionate about, sure. But I don't want to interfere with her path by just accepting," he motioned with his hand toward Lohen. "Your blessing without her input."
He took another sip before looking back up at the latter. "And of course, as her father, I don't just casually let suitors into her life without giving them a quick clash to prove their worth." He chuckled lightly, shaking the half-emptied container in his hand. "My daughter deserves a man who is willing to work for her love and respect, not just someone who expects it to be handed to him on a silver platter."
Though his eyes had little warmth beneath them, only a fair warning.
"Is that all clear?" Varka said with a sense of finality.
Lohen was silent. Remarkably rare for him, as he usually had a quick response ready. Though his silence should not be mistaken as an agreement to the wise words of the grandmaster, it was more likely a sign of defiance or just plain ignorance. "Then could you relay the message to [Y/N]?" he requested.
Varka deadpanned. "Are you even listening to me, kid?"
"Oh, I did," Lohen replied, nodding his head. "If you wish to know how serious I am about your daughter, then let's settle it with a duel." In the blink of an eye, blue swirls of energy enveloped Lohen's hands as he materialized a polearm that gleamed in the sunlight, ignoring a certain red-headed individual's annoyed protest of, "If you're gonna bring bloodshed, at least get out of the tavern."
The casualness had eventually transformed into that signature maniacal grin and bloodthirsty glint in his dull red eyes that Varka had seen too many times before.
At this point, Varka would rather assume that Lohen wanted an excuse to fight him under the guise of proving his commitment to his daughter.
Kids these days…
"You are really going to extreme lengths just to prove a point," Varka remarked, pinching his nose in disbelief. "But if that's what it takes for you to show your dedication, then so be it."
He rested his hand on the back of his chair, pushing himself up to stand, and cracking the joints in his neck as he did so.
"What are you two doing?"
Both men froze at the familiar owner of that sweet voice.
There you stood at the entrance of the tavern, your hand positioned on the wooden door frame, a look of curiosity and concern etched on your face. You took the opportunity to use the silence as an edge to assess the situation unfolding before you, wondering why the hell they are trying to cause a ruckus as an invitation to be permanently banned by the tavern in the middle of the night.
You looked first at your sheepish father, scratching his blond hair in awkwardness, and then at the Lohen who was still equipped with his weapon, as if ready for a fight or really ready for a fight.
His battle-hungry expression schooled back into one of casual indifference as he caught your eye, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"Good evening, my lady," he said with a slight bow, his tone laced with practiced charm. "We were just having a little chat with your father here." He motioned with his head to the old man who's currently giving him a look, though the gesture was disregarded purposefully, and then Varka turned his attention to you, clearing his throat.
"So… Uh, how's the progress of your collaborated research with Albedo, sweet pea?" he asked, forcing a poor attempt at a smile, sitting back on the stool as he tried to hide the awkwardness that flickered in his eyes.
At the mention of the affectionate nickname from a long, long ago, your face scrunched up in disgust. It had been quite some time since he had addressed you with that endearing term, and using that specifically now felt like a deliberate attempt to divert your attention from the bigger picture.
"What is going on here, Dad?" you replied, arching a distrustful eyebrow.
Silence followed after your question, the tension in the room palpable as you waited for his response. Finally, it was not your father who cracked the stillness, but rather the part-time bartender himself, Diluc.
"This gentleman," Diluc said, setting his gaze at Lohen while keeping his hands busy cleaning the same glass over and over again, "has asked for your father's blessing to propose to you." Then he shifted his bored gaze back to your unusually quiet father, a hint of amusement betraying his expression despite the border of professionalism he maintained.
He can already tell the simmering betrayal emitting from Varka, judging by how tensed his jawline is and how his grip on the container tightens.
"Pro…proposal?" you stammered, your face burning from feeling caught off guard by the mention of an unexpected proposal.
Diluc nodded in confirmation, a small smirk playing on his lips as he observed your flustered reaction. "I'll leave the rest of the details to them," he said, gesturing towards your father and Lohen. He placed the glassware on an open upper cabinet, mouthing to you, "Good luck," before excusing himself from the situation to avoid getting tangled further in the delicate family matters.
Now, it was just the three of you, and maaaaybeeee, a knowing audience secretly watching the drama unfold from a discreet distance.
Your father chugged down the remaining booze from the container, swiping off the dripping juice from his chin with the back of his hand and sighing heavily. "As Diluc stated, yes, he was trying to get my blessing to marry you."
He tightened the lid of the container and set it back on the counter, his expression unreadable. "And I refused his request."
"YOU REFUSED HIS REQUEST?!"
The sheer volume of your bewildered voice jolted your father, causing him to flinch slightly. Even Lohen was stunned, but slightly touched by your shaky reaction.
He returned the bewildered stare, his eyebrows knitting together as if he weren't expecting the intensity of your reaction. "Hey, keep it down, will you?" he muttered, glancing around to see some of the drunkard fools furthering indulging themselves with the drama until they wisely looked away after catching his warning-like glare.
"I refused to give him my blessing until you give me your permission to marry you,"
He scowled. "But I doubt you would agree; you're doing fine on your own without boys trying to flock over you—"
"Then I want to marry him!"
"Huh?"
"Please let me marry him, Dad!"
Lohen looked back and forth at the father-daughter interaction with profound intrigue, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions.
Well, this is certainly unexpected, he thought to himself. But he wasn't complaining either.
You pressed forward before courage could desert you again.
"I've… I've liked him for a long time, Dad." Your voice cracked on the admission, with your cheeks scorching hot. "Months? I don't know, maybe longer?" You scratched your head in frustration, running your hand over your disheveled hair.
"It just is, okay! I know he throws himself into every fight like it's the only thing that makes him alive… but he still finds a way to check if I'm okay first, even when he always comes back bruised. " You swallowed hard, eyes now fixed somewhere near Lohen's boots because looking at either man right now felt impossible.
"I keep waiting for the right moment to say something, but every time I tried, my tongue kept getting stuck… I was too shy to confess."
Silence stretched thin and fragile.
Then the said man exhaled; that might have been relief dressed up as a scoff. The blue energy coiling up around his polearm flickered once and dissolved; the weapon vanished into motes of light as though it had never been summoned. His posture loosened, his shoulder dropping the battle-ready tension he'd worn like armor.
He turned toward Varka, lips curling into that familiar, infuriatingly smug smirk.
"See?" Lohen drawled, spreading his hands in mock innocence. "No need for bloodshed after all. Your daughter just gave her permission herself." The red glint in his eyes sparked with self-satisfaction, then softened a fraction when his gaze slid back to you. He confidently approached you, his hand taking yours, and kissed it gently. "You save a lot of trouble for us, my lady."
You blushed at the unexpected praise, unable to contain your wobbly smile.
Meanwhile, Varka dragged a hand down his face, muttering something unintelligible that sounded suspiciously like a prayer for patience to Barbatos. After a long beat, he finally looked between the two of you, expression caught somewhere between resignation and reluctant fondness.
The consequences of being a parent to a daughter, he guessed. He's more flexible when it comes to letting you get away with things than he'd like to admit, but he couldn't deny the pleasure it brought him just to see you happy.
"…Fine," he grunted, his voice rough.
He fixed Lohen again with a glare. "But if you make her cry even once, kid. I won't need a duel. I'll just bury you under Stormterror's Lair and tell everyone you got lost on a routine patrol."
Lohen's grin widened, unfazed by the protective-fatherly threat. "Noted."
Varka groaned. "I need another drink for this. You two are going to be the death of me."
Then his gaze drifted to your intertwined hands and grumbled. "Save the PDA for when you're married, please. You two are not allowed to hold hands in public until then."
"Daaaaddddd!" you whined, sending him a half-hearted glare.
Lohen brushed off his feeble warning with a chuckle. "We'll be sure to keep our hands to ourselves until the big day, Grandmaster."
"Though I wished to know now what my fiancée's preferences are for her engagement ring." Surprise flickered in your eyes as you glanced at Lohen, who was already gazing back at you with tenderness. "Shall we browse together tomorrow?"
You would be a fool to refuse such a thoughtful gesture from him.
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."
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