𖤐 fake it till we make it.ᐟ | what happens when scaramouche, your rival since the first year of highschool, had some annoying admirers on his back? easy—he (fake) dates you to shoo them off. nothing can possibly go wrong with faking a relationship with the guy you hate, right?
𖤐 in hindsight | You are a singer-songwriter. Music has always been a part of you, it's a part of your identity that no one can ever take away. However, there's always a catch: you are diagnosed with a chronic illness that puts your life on a timer. Those who have heard your countless melodies have grown to notice that the notes on the sheet played a gloomier tune. Would the snarky and capable medical student you've met be able to bring life back into these melodies? Even as your life begins to seep out of your own body? A reboot/rebranded version of Autumn Leaves.
𖤐 blurred lines | You say you’re just friends. You say it every time you leave a party together, every time you wake up tangled in sheets, every time you swear it’s the last time. But habits form, lines blur, and pretending gets harder when jealousy starts to sting.
𖤐 my dear y/n | you and scaramouche were once lovers, both of you being each other’s first loves in middle school—all the way to your junior year. but after growing apart & growing up, you two broke it off quite calmly, brushing it off as an inevitable outcome. but, what’ll happen now that you two are at the same university, coming across one another (too) frequently? will you two even be as close as before? friends? enemies? lovers?
𖤐 raised the bar.ᐟ | yn thought she finally escaped the perpetual doom of placing 2nd after she graduated high school. but alas! the leaderboard has her name printed under another’s! a name she thought she’d never get to see again. better luck next time, i guess.
𖤐 keep my heart | you find plenty of guys around you attractive, but there is only one you’re willing to make the first move on: the guy you first saw during your older brother’s soccer game. spoiler: he's a player from your rival university.
𖤐 just a hater | in which you major in astronomy and scaramouche is the biggest astronomy hater (in your eyes). what happens when someone confesses their feelings for you, and you not knowing how to handle affections, suddenly blurt out that you are already taken. by who? well, scaramouche of course.
𖤐 stuck with you | after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!
𖤐 how (not) to fall in love | your best friend is tired of being single. she wants to fall in love. she wants to become like the female leads she's watching from romance movies. so being the supportive and kind best friend you are, you decided to help her! except that the guy she has her eyes on happens to be your long-term crush from your middle-high school days. surely, you're not the one who will fall for him... right?
𖤐 sweet melody | THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.
𖤐 UNDERST☆ND | when the famous streamer Scaramouche, reveals being in a long term relationship with a mysterious person, no one thought he would be married to the famous idol, YN.
𖤐 camera flip, heart leap.ᐟ | IN WHICH—you, although faceless, are a very famous streamer known as KUMI. you were streaming as usual, playing games and interacting with fans. but when you're about to exit the stream, you accidentally pressed the wrong button that led to you opening your cam and showing your whole face to your audience. this wasn't supposed to happen, no ! so you panicked and quickly ended the stream. numerous screenshots circulated on twitter, which broke both the fans and the internet. this reached a certain someone, SCARAMOUCHE, your rival in streaming. when the said boy saw the trending photo, he almost fell off his gaming chair. because—lo and behold! KUMI was actually [name]?! now who is this [name] in his life, if you may ask? she's the girl that scaramouche has been admiring from afar in real life! quite shocking, right? have i told you that he’s also been sending you anonymous love letters? oh well...
𖤐 always an artist, never the muse | you, an artist who lost her skills, chose practicality over passion. you try to avoid anything that has something to do with art, not until you met a naturally gifted artist who's living a life you wish you had.
𖤐 how you get the girl.ᐟ | breaking up with kuni was one of your biggest regrets yet (however, you'll never actually admit that to anyone). but was it really a wise decision to keep in touch with him even after you broke his (and your) heart?
𖤐 how haters are born | YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.
𖤐 how haters die | YOU WERE under scrutiny of the one and only justsofamous for years and years before finding out who he is. constantly having to question your self-worth was a bigger downhill slope than the time you were begging your friends, crying and pleading, for them to go to a concert with you of an artist they all hated except you. but now that you're pretty much going through the motions of retracing your self esteem and your (extremely ironic) relationship with this guy who harassed you and then picked enough apples to win your heart, you started to consider moving in with him after he offered it enough times. only that, once you actually did...things started falling apart again for the two of you.
𖤐 that's that me espresso | You’re a new idol that just debuted under ‘Fontaine Entertainment’ with your new single ‘Espresso.’ You just graduated high school which means all your classmates are shocked to see you into stardom. Including your old situationship, who happens to be an actor.
𖤐 of all people... | When you, a student who finds her best friend admits the terrors of high school. A best friend who've you'd hated ever since he left. Of all people, why was he the one to make you swoon, a person you swore to hate?
𖤐 behind the lens | to be categorized and reposted
𖤐 just playing the part | to be categorized and reposted
𖤐 short fics | a collection of short smau/written fics.
peeking at mitya’s notes because you’re curious about what new inventions he always seems to be writing about but there is no secret inventions he’s just writing erotic fanfiction of you and him
AQ spoilers + fem (y/n)
LMAOOOOOOO now that he's on leave, he thinks he's off the hook from the curse of death. so long as he doesn't think of anything that will benefit project mistilteinn, it's fine, right? so it's okay that he relaxes and self-indulges in the theater. he wouldn't miss these performances for the world, especially since he always asks to be seated next to you.
while on leave, he still brings his pen and paper, albeit for different reasons. it's not hypotheses written in messy scrawls or one-off thoughts surrounded by loosely connected ideas. it's neater; clearly planned out as he hums along to the instrumental of odette's ballet performance, his scarf swaying to the beat.
finally, he can resume his ongoing novel-length slow-burn erotica of a yearning scientist x a tsundere zapolyarny palace maid :) he barely finished writing the exposition before the tsaritsa's plans demanded that he and his team of researchers speed up their work, leaving him with little to no time to continue. since the last time he's worked on his fanfiction, a never-ending river of imaginative scenarios has only continued to stream in his mind, providing him ample fuel to do the entire climax in one go.
he's smiling so hard while writing that you can't help but take notice. with the lights dimmed, you hope odette doesn't take offense to your attention straying as you scoot closer to mitya's side to look over. you're not nosy... just curious.
'it's not like i cooked this meal for you specifically, energy scientist.' she huffed, looking away with shoulders tensed. 'you need energy to keep working too, you know? because it'll get burned off from all that thinking you do-- not that i care...!'
'oh please don't worry miss (y/n), i know another way we can burn off energy-'
you look away, quickly deciding that it's not worth finding out why his notes aren't looking like actual notes. ignorance is bliss here in snezhnaya. you don't know what the tsaritsa's plans are, and you don't know why mitya's taken up the hobby of writing real-person fiction.
summary. your health took a sharp decline due to the sharp snowstorm tormenting snezhnograd, but at least you had your loving boyfriend by your side.
— content. alyosha x f!reader · 11k words · nsfw [making out + choking/breath play + a lotta touching + fingers in mouth + slight dacryphilia] · isolating + manipulation · mentions of death + blood + slight injuries · sickness · petnames [zaika: bunny/little hare in russian + ya albi: my heart in arabic].
[ major spoilers for snezhnaya archon quest, act ii under the cut + more warnings ! ]
— continued content. murder mystery arc [not accurate, typed from my memory] · dubious consent [there is nothing unconsensual] · body horror/mistaken identity · ronova as alyosha · ooc!ronova obviously [though i would let her do all this to me] · slight stalking.
— foreword. i have never written anything like this. as i played the quest, the idea hit me out of nowhere and despite jotting it down yesterday, i basically wrote it all today lmao. again, never written anything like this before, writing anything nsfw is new to me, so very sorry about its quality. i have work in six hours and have yet to sleep, but the grind never stops apparently. i don't speak russian or arabic (specifically egyptian dialect) so i used a lot of reddit and websites to find suitable nicknames, if something is incorrect please lemme know ! and lastly, sorry to my bby alyosha and the tsaritsa for writing a body horror ronova thirst piece.
— read on ao3.
— art. from pinterest, but from his trailer, i believe !
often people would wonder how you and alyosha even became a thing. it sounded insane, perhaps a little odd that other people would ponder that, but in the small town of sretomorozsk, he was a well-known figure, and in the bustling streets of snezhnograd, he was known as someone who could tackle any issues that came his way.
you, on the other hand, were not from this land and thus known for other reasons. a strange woman originally from the deserted regions of sumeru, raised among warm-hearted people and in the shadows of those living in the city. how come a woman raised in an environment like a desert ended up in a land like snezhnaya, where the cold was merely known as its natural state?
it was really quite simple: you did not choose this. well, you did, but not really. back in your little village, you'd always been quite skilled at handiwork, sewing clothes for all the children and repairing those of the elders. you overtook all duties of sowing in your village, and as you became older, you miraculously came across someone who had connections to a store in sumeru city, initially wary of hiring a woman from the desert but soon finding that your talent was undoubtedly too brilliant. you'd worked there for years upon years before the owner called you to her private estate, having retired years prior and left the store in her son's hands. they wished to open a branch in snezhnaya, a land known for its fashion and culture, also a land desperately in need of a store like the one you worked in.
they were seeing a business opportunity, and whilst you would have preferred to stay in sumeru city, you were soon appalled to learn that you did not have a choice. when you were due for a contract renewal, the new owner had added additional stipulations after you'd signed, committing fraud but getting away with it, for nobody would ever side with a desert woman when it was her word against that of a noble from a respected family.
alyosha was one of the very first people you had encountered in snezhnaya, freezing even beneath your many layers of clothing. you'd been tasked with opening the store in snezhnaya, expected to run it on your own for now. if their suspicions turned out to be correct and business became relatively profitable, then they would send more people down to help out, perhaps hire some talented people living around town. but unlike then, it was just you. well, you and the dog that came crashing into you as you had been standing at the train station in sretomorozsk, confused and trying to make your way around.
the boy with yellow eyes had apologized profusely for his dog, whose legs had come running at you with nothing less than full speed, sweeping you off your feet as he caught your croissant, eating it whole. if alyosha hadn't reached out with a firm grip on your arms as he caught you, then you would've gone crashing into the icy ground. alyosha often reimagined that day, weaving all sorts of poetry about how beautiful you had looked. he never ceased to mention how pink you were from the sheer cold, hair hidden behind a thick hat and half of your face covered by a thick scarf. he was convinced that tugarin had acted as the most perfect wingman that day, swiping you off your feet and throwing you into alyosha's waiting arms, blessing him with the woman of his dreams.
"i'll just stay here and work on this dress," you reassured alyosha once more as you sat backstage in one of the more hidden rooms in the theater, a dress laid over your lap as you prepared to hand-stitch the flowers requested by your customer earlier. "don't worry."
"i always worry about you, zaika." alyosha's hand gently traced down the back of your neck, settling against your cold skin as he winced to himself, adjusting your sweater to cover as much skin as possible so you wouldn't start to freeze violently again.
the weather in snezhnaya had never been something you could become entirely used to, even if you had been living here for almost a year. it was perpetually cold with snow falling from the skies and ice lining the streets, the chill lingering in the air. for someone warm-blooded as you due to your roots in the desert, once the cold set in and penetrated your skin, you would be left shivering and shaking nonstop, unable to catch the warmth again. your skin would lose all its vibrancy, becoming pale and ashy, no longer shimmering magnificently, although alyosha would argue you always remained as radiant and beautiful as ever, even if you were freezing half to death.
over the past few days, with this harrowing blizzard sweeping over snezhnaya, your health had taken a slight turn for the worse. you were renting an apartment in snezhnograd, but ever since the friendship between you and alyosha had grown to become a relationship, you both had been traveling between the capital and sretomorozsk, where alyosha resided. but this blizzard had kept both you and him trapped in his home back in the smaller town until the traveler and her companion had arrived and met you. while she and alyosha were out to deal with stuff, you had stayed behind at home with paimon, taking care of the small fairy while you continued working on your commissions. in the many months you'd been here, your business had taken off, and you were often commissioned by nobles and such for clothes. as just one person working on her own, you were always very organized, only taking on selective commissions on strict deadlines.
when the traveler and alyosha solved the problem happening around town, the train tracks became clear, and the four of you headed towards the main city. you had been fine back in sretomorozsk, but the lengthy journey on the train with the nightmare-esque experience had left you with the chill settling into your bones once more. alyosha always became extra protective when you were beginning to catch that bout of chills again, reluctant to leave your side and insisting you bundle up tight.
today was one of those days. there was a dress rehearsal, and alyosha had picked up a last-minute shift at the theater. since you had closed the store to work on the various commissions, he had asked you to come with him, able to sit in one of the warmer rooms to work. that way, he could keep an eye on you and sate his own worry for you, but also give you ample room to work. after all, alyosha knew that you adored your work and valued delivering to your customers on time. so here you were, dressed in one of his warmer sweaters as you stitched the fabric of the dress.
leaning back into his touch, you let your eyes flutter closed as your face angled up towards alyosha, whose eyes were admiring you so openly. your trust in him was something he could never take for granted, understanding how affected you'd been after the hidden stipulation in your contract, which allowed for your employers to send you to an unknown nation. as someone who was born and raised in snezhnaya, he did not know much about other nations or their laws, but your stories had made it clear that people from desert areas were not valued the same way. he was never able to reconcile with the pain he saw in your eyes whenever you spoke of it, the manner in which you would zone out, words halting at the tip of your tongue as you seemingly returned to that place mentally.
alyosha's other hand came up to brush your hair away ever so slightly, loving the strands framing your face as he admired the slight redness in your face. "call me if you need something, okay? i'll be behind the scene."
"i'll be fine, ya albi." you opened your eyes to meet alyosha's, raising a hand to poke at his nose as it scrunched up at the touch of your index finger, rolling his eyes as you grinned. "you're so overprotective sometimes. it's so cute."
just a few weeks after you and alyosha took the first step in progressing from friendship to relationship, you'd been stuck inside your store for hours without warmth. alyosha would find you huddled into a corner, lips a faint tint of blue as you'd wrapped yourself in layers upon layers of warmth. most citizens out that day would likely never forget the sight of alyosha hurrying through the city with you, his chest heaving in exasperation as he ran to the doctor's place with you unconscious in his arms. ever since that day, especially, alyosha had become extensively more protective of you, never failing to express his concern for your tendency to absorb too much of the surrounding coldness.
alyosha wanted to say more, to perhaps remind you that you love his protectiveness, especially when he has you trapped beneath his warm body, words tumbling from your mouth in sheer ecstasy—in those moments, you will never cease to praise his hunting eyes always fixated on you, peering at him through hooded eyes and with flushed cheeks. but a knock on the door interrupted the moment between you, and you couldn't help but laugh a tiny bit as he rolled his eyes. a searing kiss was placed on your forehead, your eyes fluttering shut as he pressed another against your hair, muttering his usual warnings of staying warm and having the tea he'd brewed for you. a few more words were muttered between you as you let your hand sneak around his neck, pulling him down to press your lips against his, feeling the way he melted into your touch.
the gloved hands came up to sneak around your face, his thumb pressing into your cheekbone as the other wrapped around your waist to pull you closer. the knock on the door resounded throughout the room once more, but to no avail as alyosha deepened the kiss, encouraged by the small sounds escaping you once his gloved hand slid beneath the sweater, skimming the skin just below your bra. learning that he was insatiable should not have been a surprise, yet it had been for you. once the two of you found a communication that worked for you and became comfortable with one another, he never gave up any chance to have his hands on you, even just in casual settings. it was as if he became so used to having you near, always resting a hand on your waist or holding your hand, often letting his fingers trace across your arms or wrap around the back of your neck. in private, however, he took that up a notch and displayed a sense of ferociousness you didn't think anyone knew about, not even yourself until you found yourself perpetually pressed against any surface he could find, lips tracing every inch of your skin, teeth leaving marks in his wake, as his hands roamed anywhere and everything.
even now, you could feel his hands just about skimming over the cup of your bra, blurring your senses entirely as he teased you, letting his tongue press against the seam of your lips as he refused to go further. he would always do this. initiate something, pushing your limits just enough to have you desperate for more, chasing after his touch, yet left to solely yearn as he pulled away. his thumb brushed over your lower lip, ignoring the annoyed glare you were shooting at him as his taunting eyes kept noting your chest heave in order to regain the breath he'd taken from you. with another quick peck pressed against your lips, alyosha rushed out of the door, sending you a playful salute before disappearing out the door. you were left pining for more, seething at his sheer audacity to wind you up like this only to leave you hanging, but you also relished in the ball of warmth in your stomach and the lingering sensation of his full lips against yours.
you would not know how long truly passed. the sound of music was soothing to you, and as you warmed up, sipping on tea, your mind tuned into your work entirely, allowing you to enter some sort of focused state of stitching into the dress. whenever you put all your attention into your work, you would become oblivious to the world around you; something alyosha was always quite amused by… well, until it had been hours and he had to hound you into taking a break. but something was beginning to feel off to you now, your mind snapping back into reality once it dawned on you that the music had halted a long while ago, yet you were not hearing movement in the hallways. alyosha would have been back by now to check on you, or at the very least, you would've heard someone else moving around the hallway.
disposing of the dress neatly onto the chair next to you for safekeeping, you pushed yourself up from the floor. the mirror was right in front of you, allowing you to quickly straighten out your clothes and fix your appearance. it was never overly cold within the theater as the staff and performers spent hours here, so the building was always well-heated. thus, you'd merely stolen one of alyosha's sweaters that was a little too large for you, falling to the top of your thighs as you'd worn a pair of warm trousers beneath and a pair of boots. your jacket was hanging on the hook behind the door alongside your hat and gloves. once you had redone your hairstyle and let the few strands of hair fall forward to frame your face, something alyosha loved, you decided to go and find out what was happening outside.
"uhm, excuse me…" you approached the large group of people at the door, confused by the gathering as you glanced around. "what's happening here?" noticing the familiar traveler standing towards the end of the group, you headed towards her as she stared at you with a nervous frown, further fueling that twinge of worry in your stomach.
one of the unfamiliar faces turned to you. "it seems that the snowstorm outside has picked up tremendously in the past few hours. one of the staff members has gone out to examine its severity, also to search for the others who may have gotten lost."
your eyes trailed across the group, scanning every single face to find the one you were looking for, but something told you that you knew exactly who this staff member was, even if your heart did not want to believe it. the traveler let out a sigh but took it upon herself to explain everything to you, seeing as the two of you had formed sorts of a friendship in the past few days of you traveling together. hearing that alyosha had gone out in there in that grueling weather, not only to search for the lost staff member and perhaps a group of soldiers, but also to assess the weather struck a nerve in you. the sympathetic glances from the traveler were ones you were choosing to ignore, feeling the room around you becoming tighter and a lot more constrictive.
if that snowstorm was vile enough to halt a group of trained soldiers, strong enough to keep that staff member from returning, then what the hell was stopping alyosha from also getting lost out there?
of course, nobody wanted to think that way. nobody wanted to prepare for the chance that their lover, the one whose presence completed you, would never return from such an occurrence. it was a waiting game for you and everyone, but particularly for you. there were no intentions to forget about the others who may also become victims to this cruel weather, but admittedly, your focus was only on the man whose initials were wrapped around your neck on a beautiful chain, resting against your chest as a reminder of your love for you. unlike everyone else, who were standing together, you chose to stand off to the side, ignoring all the eyes on you as the rumors soon spread that you were alyosha's significant other, the woman whose praises he always sang and the one whose comfort he'd do anything to secure.
the atmosphere was tense around you, but it was not something you cared to partake in, whatsoever. the traveler was a lot wiser in terms of emotional intelligence than you'd expected, for despite the concerned glances she was shooting in your direction, she never came by to offer you false hope or feed you ridiculous notions about how and why he would make it back safely. she seemed to acknowledge you needed to be left alone; she could understand that your eyes going hazy and your crouched form against the wall meant you had already mentally retreated, hoping for the best yet preparing for the worst. life in snezhnaya would not be feasible for you without alyosha by your side, without his comforting presence in your life day after day. one could argue that you had no idea how dangerous the storm outside was as you'd been sitting away in the room, but there was no mistaking the veils of anxiety and horror on everyone's faces and in their demeanor as they paced before the doors.
the chances of alyosha returning were becoming slimmer by the second.
how long had passed, nobody truly knew. but suddenly the doors were opened, and you heard a commotion around you, although you were still stuck in your own head, reminiscing on the love carved into his handsome features as he prepared to leave you to work in the room. the smoothness of his glove against your lower lip as his eyes smiled down at you, his voice echoing in your mind as you sighed to yourself. the numbness was becoming too much, but you refused to allow your walls to break before all of these strangers. perhaps you had zoned out from the setting around you, and perhaps you were a rather sad image to everyone else, a woman curled up against the wall with her eyes empty and her face overcome with passivity, clearly lost somewhere in her own memories.
so lost she missed the return of her lover bursting back in through the doors. some would have argued that that should have been the first red flag; others would say it should have been suspicious that the man now standing in the midst of the group never once noticed his lover in the corner. some would argue in hindsight that his eyes briefly shooting to her before returning to the traveler before him should have set off glaring alarm bells, yet nobody noticed, and thus not a single person suspected anything. nor did anyone notice the sheer surprise on alyosha's face when your body came crashing into his, arms instinctively wrapping around your waist as you buried your head into his chest, panting heavily at the feeling of your lover under your hands.
the traveler had been the one to jolt you from your own mind, gently leading you back into the real world as your dull eyes met hers. she had been the one to move aside, pointing to alyosha with a soft smile on her face, witnessing in real time as the puzzle pieces came together in your head. one moment you were sitting before her in defeat, the next you were colliding into alyosha's body, assuming he'd been caught off guard as it took longer for his response. but those arms wrapping around you, feeling the beats of his heart under your fingers and peering up through your lashes at his handsome face, reddened by the outlandishly powerful storm—you relished in knowing that your boyfriend was back, alive and in your arms.
and then the anger came flooding through your veins, bubbling intensely as the hydro vision hanging from your hip glowed. the others had already gotten their answers from alyosha and began preparing to spend the rest of the evening and night here in the theater, but the traveler felt amused by the annoyance on your face. your vision was glowing, faint water droplets forming on your hands as you wrapped a hand around alyosha's wrist. he never had a chance to protest, for right beneath his feet, small puddles of water wrapped around his thick boots, allowing you to pull his sliding body with you into the back from where you'd come from earlier.
the door slammed behind you in anger, your hydro vision forming slender arms behind you to lock the door, making sure nobody else could enter the room. alyosha had no chance to escape from your grip unless he tapped into his own vision, the water puddles beneath his feet keeping him wherever you wanted him. alyosha's body, however, would soon collide with the soft plush of the couch as you launched his body at the soft cushions, ignoring the confusion on his face as he sat up straight.
if you had paid closer attention, you would have noticed the slight anger on his face, hands balling into fists as you paced before him.
"i don't even know what to say to you, alyosha. i really fucking don't. the nerve of you." you pointed down at him, narrowing your eyes at the expression of confusion as those yellow eyes followed your every move. "why would you go into the storm? i don't care if you think it's your responsibility or whatever. it was stupid and—,"
"are you mad because i went into the storm?" alyosha's voice stopped you right in your tracks, eyes widening as you slowly turned to face him, looking like something out of a horror film as you jawed down at him in disbelief.
leaning down, you jammed a finger into his solid chest, your nose grazing his as you leaned in close. "am i mad 'cause you went into the storm? of fucking course i'm mad about that, alyosha. are you serious? what if you got stuck out there, huh? what if you didn't come back? what if i had to…"
"had to what?"
your hand dropped in defeat as that sensation of icy dread washed over you again. "what if you had died out there, alyosha? i know this is what you do for a living, and i'm never tryna doubt you, but i just… they kept saying that the others hadn't returned, that you'd gone out there. i know you always wanna do your best, but i need you to be safe," your tone trailed off as your voice cracked, the suppressed tears now springing back into your eyes as you allowed your body to collapse into his. your legs fell to each side of his thighs, straddling his lap as your head landed in the crook of his neck, fingers curling into the front of his jacket. you didn't want him to see the tears streaming down your face at the relief you were experiencing, burying your head into the warm space between his neck and shoulder, sighing contently. "i don't wanna lose you, alyosha. not like this."
if you found it weird how alyosha's hands took so long to make contact with your body, you didn't voice it. you simply assumed he was overwhelmed himself, perhaps having seen something out in that storm that had left him speechless or thinking that maybe he was merely attempting to process the situation in his own mind. arms came to wrap around your waist, one hand landing in the middle of your back as fingers spread out, the others holding your hip in place. the grip on you felt loose; it felt insecure, but the sensation of alyosha's warm touch burning through your clothes was enough. your tears calmed down as the tension released from your body, all the anxiousness and fear vanishing into the thin and cold air as your eyes began drooping. the cold was picking up significantly, settling into your bones.
gentle hands slid underneath the hem of your sweater, the feeling of skin grazing over yours as you let out a gasp, burrowing further into his neck. alyosha usually never took off his gloves outside the sanctity of your home, preferring to keep them on in case he needed to pick up his weapons, but he also knew that you were someone who relished in touch—feeling his warm skin, the calluses on his fingers and palms brush against your own soft skin never failed to lull you into a state of relaxation. alyosha didn't say anymore, but one hand slid from your back, tracing down the back of your spine as it landed on your thigh, fingers tracing patterns into the fabric of your trousers.
"my apologies," alyosha murmured softly into your hair. "i did not mean to worry you."
your eyebrows came together as you lifted your head, glancing down at alyosha whose eyes were already firmly locked on you. you slid your hands up the expanse of his chest, fingers hovering over his neck as you curled one hand around his face. the air was thickening around you two as alyosha's grip on you tightened, the hand holding your hip digging its fingers into your bone as you felt faint pressure on your thigh. as your eyes remained locked on his, noticing an odd glimmer lurking within, the same tension from earlier returned. a small twitch of alyosha's lips broke the trance you found yourself in, surging down to press your lips against his as your hand slid into his hair. there was a gasp of shock from the man beneath you, clearly taken aback by your full lips pressing against his, the grip on your body loosening.
a sense of dread erupted within every nerve in your body, eyes snapping open to find that alyosha was staring at you wide-eyed. that was not the reaction you'd been hoping for, but it dawned on you that maybe he had never begun walking down the same path you had. he might not have felt the tension lingering around you, assuming it to be more so a comfortable tension whilst you felt a bout of hunger rising in you, hands prickling from the adrenaline you'd felt upon seeing your lover again. just as you went to pull away, ready to apologize for your rash actions and for never making sure he was also wanting to take this a step further, the hair tie holding your hair back was viciously yanked from your hair. a shudder of faint pain escaped from your mouth, your body freezing as alyosha had never acted so carelessly before, but you never got a chance to say anymore for the same hand pushed your head further into his.
within just a few seconds, you went from assuming you'd just crossed your boyfriend's boundaries to having your boyfriend eagerly pressing you further into his own body as his lips locked around yours. the slight gasp you'd let out when feeling the sting from your hair being pulled presented him with a perfect opportunity, sliding his tongue into your mouth as a moan tumbled from your lips. alyosha was certainly not always a gentle person in bed, pushing the limits as much as he could with your consent, no stranger to being rough. the grip on your waist was maddening, fingers digging painfully into your hip bone yet stinging so deliciously. the hand in your hair balled into a fist, sending shivers of pain and pleasure throughout your nerves while alyosha consumed your mouth, rendering you helpless in his hold as your involuntary whimpers and whines filled the air around you two.
"ayl—," your words were cut off the very second you managed to escape from his ironclad grip, his hand pushing you back down to fill you with nothing but him. the painful gasp must have moved something within him, though, for his grip on your roots loosened slightly, calloused fingertips pressing into your scalp soothingly as his tongue withdrew slightly as well, no longer keeping yours pressed down to reign sole dominance over you.
but to say you weren't enjoying it would be a lie. every single inch of you was buzzing in pleasure, tiny specks of adrenaline kept alive by alyosha's desperate hunger. your scalp would be buzzing for days, and you were sure you were already forming bruises on your hips from his death grip, but having his tongue brush across your lower lip, then your upper, devouring you wholly as you were falling deeper into his being was one unlike any other. he often got like this on days with particularly different hunts; so much annoyance and tension built up in him. the mornings after would usually leave you unable to step out of bed without help, hungry marks and faint bruises adorning your skin as your skin glittered. you figured this was the same premise, for you were feeling that same desperation running through your veins, pressing closer into his lean body and letting him fill all of your senses.
there was a knock on the door, then another. you tried to pull back, jumping in his arms but unable to move as alyosha kept you anchored in his grip. your mouth was no longer under your own control, kept open by his hand having slipped up to firmly hold your jaw, his thumb and pinky hooked into the sides of your mouth as he seized control of your autonomy, his tongue licking into every crevice and archons, you never wanted to leave from here. your brain felt fuzzy in that way you loved, everything and everyone beyond alyosha slipping into some hidden corner of your mind as he overwrote your every thought and your every emotion.
"hey guys, are you okay in there?" the traveler's voice came through the door, and this time, both you and alyosha were forced back into reality. the hand keeping your mouth at his mercy withdrew instantly as he finally rescinded his firm grip on you, allowing you to tumble backwards as you stood to your full height.
the mirror next to you was displaying a woman who looked absolutely wrecked, someone who'd clearly been up to no good. your hair was messy, strands pointing every which direction due to your boyfriend's firm grip. your clothes were askew, and there was an unmistakable redness in your face, lips pink and swollen from your boyfriend's love for nibbling on them. on the couch, alyosha was every bit as guilty as you were. with his body reclined back into the couch now, legs fallen into a spread, his clothes were every bit as wrinkly as your own, gloves carelessly discarded as his hair stuck in the air messily. his lips were shining, pink from all the kissing, and his eyes were glimmering beneath the lights.
"y-yeah, sorry about that," you called back, wincing as your voice broke and a stutter came out. "i was feeling a little unwell. we'll be out in a second."
"no problem, i hope you're feeling better. we'll all wait for you guys."
your only focus became to appear somewhat presentable once more, not wanting everyone else to know what had been happening in there. the staff here at the theater knew the two of you had been a couple for nearly a year now, and obviously everyone else had also come to know due to your reaction when alyosha was out in the snow, but none of you were particularly into displaying affection in public, nor did you wish for others to know the things you two got up to. yet as you made a conscious effort to straighten out your clothes, brushing your hair away from your face, and even using your hydro vision to restore your complexion to normal, tracing wet fingers over your lips to calm the redness, your eyes caught the attention of alyosha in the mirror. opposed to yourself, he was still seated on the sofa, those hooded eyes watching you with an unusual expression on his face.
"we have to go, ya albi." your voice was low—the lingering feeling of adrenaline draining from your body and leaving you feeling rather low on energy. "something's not right here."
your words seemed to break him from whatever trance he was in, shaking his head ever so slightly as he stood up. with a loving sigh, you waltzed over and began smoothing out his clothes, shaking your head in tender exasperation as he merely let you work, running your hands all over his clothes and summoning more hydro energy into your hands, both taking on a more transparent look as you trailed across his facial features, normalizing the blood flow in his face and tending to his kiss-bitten lips. without another word, you slid your hand into his, feeling him tentatively tighten the grip on your hands as the two of you headed out to meet the others.
but for you, nothing would come out of that conversation. for just as you came to stand next to the others, shooting the traveler a tired smile as her eyes met yours, eyebrows drawing together in an unknown display of confusion. you wanted to ask her about it, but a sudden wave of nausea came crashing into you, sending your hand shooting up to cover your face as you spun around. there was an odd sensation settling in over you, one that felt like your body was beginning to reject the coldness around you but expeditiously; never before had it come over you like this.
the others were already wrapped up in their own conversation, attempting to make sense of this situation, yet you were not able to concentrate, nor were you able to contribute. alyosha's body had turned to face you, his hand coming to rest on your back as tears welled up in your eyes. so many things were happening in your body; you couldn't even process it anymore. the nausea was intensifying at a scary level; a throbbing pain began crawling throughout your skull and into the back of your eyes, ears ringing loudly. the pain was spreading from your skull, causing so much hurt that you genuinely wondered if it was human to feel so much at once. only once had you been even somewhat close to this, back when your body had an abnormally poor reaction to the coldness. your symptoms built steadily over a few days back then, resulting in a state that you'd considered too much back then—this abundance of hurt felt like a punishment from the heavens above.
alyosha just about managed to catch you as you went crashing towards the ground, the pain too much for you to stay conscious. as the others gasped in horror, confused by what was happening, alyosha had already picked you up in his arms and rushed back to the room from which you two came. sensing that someone needed to explain, the traveler took it upon herself to explain. after all, the day she met you and alyosha, bringing paimon to your home for rest, she had left comfortably, trusting her companion to be in your company once she heard about your own sensitivity to the cold. you were from the desert, and as someone who had spent ample time in the desert on her travels, she could only imagine how abrasive this weather was on you; if you were prone to falling sick in snezhnaya's regular weather, she imagined that this snowstorm was truly affecting you at a much more intense pace.
but back in the room, once again closed and locked, you were lying flat on the sofa, panting heavily as your eyes pressed shut. archons above, you would never be able to explain this one away. for the very second alyosha had made it back into the room, locking the door behind you, your eyes had fluttered once more. all that pain, all those throbbing pains in your body, vanished immediately as alyosha had placed your body down on the sofa. instead, you found that as he leaned back, your hands curled into his collar, preventing him from moving. in any other circumstance, you were sure that he would have been perplexed by what had just happened, rushing into questions about your health and checking every inch of your skin to make sure you were fine.
yet you could have sworn you saw a minor smirk spreading on his pink lips, as if he could somehow sense that hunger rising in you once more. there was no explanation for what was happening to you, but as if someone else was influencing your body and your state of mind, you found that you didn't actually care. the tied fur jacket around his shoulders went flying off as your fingers fully curled into the laps of his jacket and pulled him down, pressing your lips against his. this time, there was no hesitation or pause. one of alyosha's hands came down to press against the sofa next to your head, allowing him to stay balanced above you as he kissed back with fervor, his other hand landing on your throat. choking was not something new in your relationship, for admittedly, both of you loved a bit of excitement. and what was more exciting than feeling the surface of his glove against your delicate skin, his palm steadily shaping around the expanse of your neck as his fingertips teasingly dug into the sides of your neck.
a loud gasp echoed throughout the room as his fingers pressed into the sides of your throat, a vibration racing across the surface of your skin as he let go again. your lungs filled with air once more as your brain relished in the flow of blood, a moan escaping you as you felt kisses being placed along the expanse of your skin, specifically when his fingers had been tightening. your eyes, which had fluttered closed as the blood flow to your brain was restricted, flitted open, half-lidded as you met his glinting eyes, your boyfriend clearly exhilarated from seeing your reaction.
"you like that?" his whisper grazed over your lips, his face now right in front of you as you felt his fingers pressing once more, giving only a small push. "keep your eyes open." and something about his tone felt different, so unlike alyosha. he loved giving you orders when you two began delving into this realm of intimacy, relishing in your hazy eyes watching him intently and your body so responsive to his every move, his every touch. but this felt like something else to you, more as if the order was laced with a glimmer of curiosity and inquisitiveness.
for a mere second, you could have sworn something about his eyes changed, as if some sort of symbol appeared in place of his pupils, but it was gone as fast as it appeared as his fingers applied pressure once more. his lips were brushing against yours in a teasing manner, a chuckle resounding in the air as alyosha relished in how you tried to chase his lips with those deliciously distressed-sounding whines and whimpers hitting his lips as he kept applying more pressure. every nerve in your body was on fire, yet you were unable to do anything as alyosha's knees gently pushed between your legs, truly keeping you pinned. his fingers would lessen their pressure, and just as you were about to inhale, your lips were captured between his, a moan tumbling from you as his teeth began nibbling on your lower lip, a slight pressure building in your head at his light choking.
"alyosha, is she okay?" a knock came at the door once again, the traveler interrupting you two for the second time today. your eyes widened, yet you were unable to move, for how would either of you explain this? last they had seen you was when you'd fainted from the absurd amount of pain shooting through your body, yet now you were trapped beneath the lean body of your boyfriend as he indulged in taking away your breath, playing leisurely with your body. "we're all worried about her."
alyosha rolled his eyes, and that truly caught you off guard, but his fingers had just entirely relinquished their hold on you, so you naturally assumed your brain was making up things as the haziness clouded your judgment, because alyosha would never roll his eyes at someone he considered a friend, especially when she was just concerned for you. another lingering trace of his fingers across your lips had you panting for air, your limbs thrumming and your mind finally clearing up. you had no idea what you two were going to tell the traveler or the others, but you certainly couldn't let her see you lying on this sofa, probably looking every bit as breathless as you felt.
but then just as alyosha opened the door, greeting the traveler briefly, those intense feelings crashed back into your body, and you let out a sharp cry, hands shooting to your head. whatever pleasure summing through your body and mind from alyosha's intimacy evolved into loud and stabbing jabs of pain. your one hand wrapped around your middle, thrashing around on the couch as your other hand shot up to your head. the coldness felt sharper than before, and archons, you were freezing—shuddering and shivering. you weren't able to hear the words they exchanged, but you did overhear the traveler expressing genuine and sharp concern for you, deducing that your health was hastily declining due to the stress you'd felt when alyosha was out there in combination with the storm outside, small gushes of coldness entering the building through small pockets under the doors or through the roof.
alyosha reluctantly left you behind in the room once he'd covered your form with his jacket, placing a small kiss on your forehead. your eyes would soon begin to flutter, and you'd find yourself drifting into an odd episode of sleep, visions of alyosha in the snowstorm and an odd red eye somewhere in the back of your consciousness.
✶
the stinging in your shoulders was unlike any you had ever felt before, both of your arms pulled to rest against your back as your wrists were tied, rendering you unable to move. tearful gasps were spilling into the air, muffled by the pair of fingers that were pressing against your tongue, keeping your mouth open and occupied, yet rendering you unable to hold back any of the sounds that were being drawn from you. the broad chest pressing against your back rumbled with a pleased hum, fingers deftly skimming over the cup of your exposed bra, leading to another muffled sound vibrating around alyosha's fingers.
since the incident yesterday, a new rule was implemented. you were not aware of what had happened as you fell asleep, but apparently the storm was too strong for any of you to leave the theater, and the others had agreed to spend the night here. seeing as your condition had become so worrying, the others agreed to let you stay in the room all the way in the back on your own, the warmest in the building. but that wouldn't explain to you why every time alyosha was near you, all senses of pain or discomfort were replaced by an insatiable hunger, eager for his hands to touch you. last night had been another one of those, but as you'd been asleep after alyosha left, you merely slept through the night. at some point, you had woken only to find alyosha sitting in a chair in the dark, those shining eyes observing you thoughtfully as you rested, but the sleep had dragged you under once again, and you'd slept the rest of the night sleeping.
in the morning, you were jolted away from your sleep due to a scream, sending you tumbling off the couch in confusion. there was nobody else in the room, but you just had to know what had happened, so despite the dizziness clouding your mind and making it difficult for you to stand, let alone walk, you somehow made your way out of the room and down the hallway. they were all crowding in front of a door, everyone in shock with exhaled tears and whispered words of shock. you had tried to move forward, wincing in pain as you tried to glance into the room only to feel a grip on your arm. a rather tall man, his hair dark and his body clad in some sort of fatui uniform, stepped out in front of you.
"miss, i understand that you may be curious, but i would advise you not to look inside. you don't look like you're feeling well. i believe you should be resting, trying to recover, and staying warm." and only at his gentle words did it even register to you that you were shivering violently, your skin having taken on a pasty-white shade of paleness.
alyosha's hands came to wrap around your waist, the man not saying a single word as he led you back into the room. this time, your condition did not improve as alyosha made you lie back, once more covering you with form as he murmured for you to stay here and rest. despite wanting to protest, the weakness in your legs was nothing to scoff at, nor was the clattering of your teeth. sure, you had somehow noticed that the air in the theater was very icy, unlike the air in this room, but you didn't think it would be this poor. nobody ever used this room commonly, which was why you primarily spent your time in here when you accompanied alyosha to work. it was much warmer, once more lulling you into a faint realm of sleep, even if that feeling of being watched never faded entirely.
but then it started. alyosha slipped into the room with a neutral expression, never really saying much as he locked the door behind him. and he would stalk over, lips spreading into a smirk as your mind told you to fulfill your needs, pulling your boyfriend to slide your hands into his hair. he would not have much time whenever he came by, yet your entire day would be spent either sleeping or pressed into some sort of surface by the boy with mint-green hair, his hands never doing any more than teasing you with a chuckle filling the air, his lips never drifting any lower than your collarbone. alyosha had a penchant for teasing you, always expressing his love for that glazed sheen floating over your eyes as he pushed you slowly towards an edge, which he wouldn't let you reach. he would relish in the way you'd eventually start to withhold your sounds from him, digging your teeth into your lower lip or biting into the back of your hand. it was always a game between you two, one who did the teasing and the other attempting to appear unaffected by it.
your own mind was entering some sort of odd state of blinding blurriness, unable to keep up with the fatigue of having your feelings change so rapidly. one moment you were sick beyond belief, shivering in your place and left with a steady throbbing behind your eyes and around your temples, your stomach cramping and your overall body feeling weak. the next you'd be burning up, desperately clawing at alyosha and buzzing with energy, heat pooling in your stomach and sweat building on your temples. whenever you were on your own, your eyes were damn near unable to stay open, lying on your side and curled up in a ball as you whimpered in pain. yet when alyosha came strolling in, locking the door behind him, those feelings were replaced with the urge to touch every inch of your boyfriend's skin as you could. your hands would grab onto his arm and pull him onto the sofa, swinging your legs over to place yourself on his lap as you began ferociously pressing kisses into his neck, nibbling at his earlobe as a small groan escaped his lips. his hands were sliding onto your thighs, squeezing and kneading them through your thick trousers as your lips pressed kisses into the thin skin below his ear, your raspy whimpers of pleasure slipping directly into his ears.
he had slipped back out a few minutes later but not before he'd flipped you both over, pressing you into the sofa and holding your wrists pressed together over your head as he ravished your mouth, sliding a thumb in to press your tongue down as his tongue explored yours, leaving you breathless as he eased back out the door. you had fallen asleep not many seconds later, left to rest up as your body recovered from the unnatural happenings you were experiencing.
when night fell and everyone else huddled together in the shared space to sleep in one room, alyosha was given the clear to go back and rest with you. the only condition everyone agreed on was that the door must remain unlocked, even though they hadn't known about it being locked earlier. yet as alyosha entered for the night and found you asleep, a smirk on his face, he clicked the door's lock behind him. your body was shifted forward, and alyosha squeezed in behind you, softly tying your wrists together as you hazily returned to consciousness, confused by when he had slipped in behind you. but you never got a chance for his arm slipped back under your head, pressing your back against his chest as your jaw was forced open, fingers slipping in. your gasps were muffled by the thick fingers as your sweater slipped up, his fingers leaving a burning trail as he pushed it further than he had all day.
teasing was where he drew the line today and for the next many days. alyosha would never take it any further than purposeful teasing, seemingly enthralled by the way you'd react. tears were streaming down your face as his fingers teasingly swirled around the front of your thin bra, the low chuckles in your ear fueling the pit of heat pooling in your stomach as his thumb skimmed the top of your bra cup, slipping below the seam only to press his finger in. there was no relief or reprise, for alyosha would tease you for hours. eventually he would retie your hands and flip you to your back, leaving you vulnerable beneath him as he settled over you. with your tied hands resting above your head, alyosha leaned down, continuing his teasing touches as he steadily began leaving marks in his wake.
alyosha's eyes widened at the tears streaming down your face, one finger swiping the tear off your skin as he stared at the droplet on his finger. you had noticed that everything he seemed to do was to see your reaction, never taking you far enough, but toying with you to his heart's desire as his greedy eyes observed every single twitch in your body, ostensibly committing it all to memory. maybe he didn't know what was happening to you either; you had to assume as his teeth pierced your skin, a sharp hiss penetrating the air as yet another mark of claim bruised into your healthy skin. your squirming was pleasing to him, you'd come to realize, as he hissed into your ear when you tried to wiggle out from below him.
but somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew something was not right. that voice of doubt had been growing for days, but lying here now on your own, his marks and bruises summing deliciously, staring up at the ceiling with alyosha's jacket thrown over your body, you were certain of it. whatever was happening, it was affecting you and alyosha so perversely. your body was so sickly until he was near you, and suddenly you couldn't suppress the need for him, yearning to feel him on you or beneath you. something major was happening past this room, yet you had no idea, for alyosha wasn't speaking to you. in fact as you thought back onto the three days that had passed, you were fairly sure that alyosha hadn't said a single word to you beyond those heated commands whenever he was indulging in your body. that was so unlike alyosha, who would usually be overly worried about you, fretting over you as you had fainted in front of everyone.
the next morning would prove to be the day everything was revealed. whenever you had fallen asleep, you had seen a glowing red eye hiding in your subconscious, blinking slowly as it watched your every move. but as you opened your eyes on this morning, you could feel that same feeling lingering around you. the traveler had been coming by to check in on you, smiling down at you with caring eyes, wishing you a speedy recovery. but the moment you left the room, dizziness began pounding in your mind, making you lean against the cold walls of the theater as you followed the feeling.
"no, don't come closer!" the traveler hollered once she saw you waddling into the theater, your eyes half-closed as you peered around in confusion.
your eyes drifted up to find alyosha standing near the stage, a red aura surrounding him as those eyes snapped over to meet yours. a gasp escaped you as you noticed the symbol in his eyes, the same you'd seen days ago but assumed were your imagination. you couldn't tell if your head was playing tricks on you, but seeing the traveler and the unknown man at her side speeding towards you, you just knew something was wrong. alyosha was moving slower, his lips spread into a smirk, and as he opened his mouth, greeting you oh-so casually, your legs gave out from beneath you, crashing into the floor and most likely bruising your body even more. this person had been disguising themselves as your boyfriend, luring you into a false sense of security as you allowed them to touch you in such sensual ways, indulging in acts you'd only ever perform with your trusted lover, taking advantage of your weakness.
"you're here, little lamb," the woman disguising herself as alyosha directed her words at you, tilting her head to the left as she watched the two people fall to your side to provide protection. "i was really hoping to keep you for last."
your throat began closing up, tears welling up in your eyes as you felt a sense of pure disgust coursing through your veins, gagging violently as everything began to fall into place in your mind. isolating you from the rest of the group with an odd manifestation of sickness, appearing serious enough to resort to isolation. nobody knew alyosha as well as you, so it was rather ingenious to separate you from everyone else to prevent her cover from being blown. your sickness kept you hazy enough to warrant the others to hide the events happening from you—events you still did not know about. because the reality was that you had no idea what was happening.
all you knew was that someone pretending to be your boyfriend had taken such vile advantage of you, touching your body and relishing in your ignorance.
all those odd expressions of curiosity, observing you with poorly disguised interest and stimulating reaction after reaction from you, feasting so hungrily on your body, knowing you believed it to be your boyfriend. the ravenous hunger that would trigger in you whenever you saw alyosha, or rather, the person pretending to be him. it was all just a sick joke, a divine game played at your expense.
not even the traveler had noticed the trap coming towards them, the person pretending to be your boyfriend launching a false attack, spurring both the seasoned traveler and the unknown man into a parry, hoping to prevent her attack. yet they had not noticed her trap heading straight for your shaking and sobbing form, wrapping around your defeated body as you were hauled across the room faster than they could process, your eyes slamming shut just as you saw the traveler reach for you, but alas. your screams were one the person seemingly relished in, holding you hostage against the body of your boyfriend as a hand wrapped around your face, gripping your jaw painfully.
"you don't have any more deaths left, grim reaper!" the man with white hair glared at the form of alyosha holding you, fingers tapping your jaw firmly as you squirmed in his arms, sobbing painfully.
the others were merely under the assumption that your tears were for your boyfriend, for the way his body had been recreated by this evil person for their own purposes. but they had no idea what had been taking place between you two, a secret between the two of you as you felt their breath brushing across your neck. their other arm was sliding under your sweater, out of the sights of the other two, tracing small forms into your bare skin as you sobbed harder. and then, a scream was all you heard before your body was whipped around and your eyes met those of your boyfriend, or the person imitating your boyfriend.
in that last moment of life before your neck was brutally snapped by the body of your most beloved, you saw the faint glimpse of a beautiful woman hovering in the air, those eyes watching you with unbridled amusement as her divine form graced their sharp nails across your face, piercing your lips and relishing in the blood oozing from your punctured lips, gushing down the length of your body.
the expression on her face was unmistakably tender, caressing your bloodied and tearful face gently before your neck was snapped clean.
✶
the night was freezing in a way you never thought you would like, your duvet discarded and your limbs bare as the cold wind kissed every inch of your exposed skin. the windows were open for once despite the powerful winds outside clashing against the building you resided in. alyosha had more shifts at the theater, and both of you were still mentally drained from the events of earlier, so he'd come back to your apartment with you, likely going to spend the next many days here as usual.
when you had come to your senses once more, seated on the floor inside that room alyosha had left you in with the dress in one hand and the other still gripping the needle, your breath was caught in your chest. there was an eerie atmosphere forming around you, something telling you that this wasn't normal and you hadn't just passed out. despite the vivid confusion clouding your brain and an odd stinging across your skin, you began swinging your head around, convinced that there was someone in the room with you—because unbeknownst to you, there was indeed someone watching you.
the door had flung open, and to your surprise, alyosha wasn't even the front-most person running at you. instead, the traveler was speeding, as was a man with white hair, both dropping to their knees in front of you as they began shooting questions at you. alyosha rushed over to you as well, instead kneeling next to you and pulling you into his strong arms, pressing light kisses against your hair as you glanced between the two shooting questions at you. eventually, you managed to calm them down and asked for an explanation.
the concept of a curse of death existing within this nation, triggering whenever certain criteria were met and killing everyone temporarily, was something so puzzling to you. during the conversation, however, you found yourself zoning out now and then, feeling a strange ache extending across your collarbones and further up the back of your neck. there was an odd sense of pressure building on your scalp, almost as if someone had been pulling your hair. yet the haze looming around your brain and the phantom pain all came to make sense once everyone's eyes turned to you.
"but you were the only one whose death wasn't entirely painless," the traveler had revealed once you were all sitting in the main room of the theater, right before the stage as you sat next to alyosha, holding his hand tightly in your own. as those words reverberated throughout the empty space, everyone's eyes came to peer at you as you quirked an eyebrow at her apprehension.
the man with the white hair, who had introduced himself as mitya, could tell she did not want to say it, thus letting out a sigh as he met your eyes. "miss, she… everyone else passed in their sleep. the final two were killed painlessly through her touch. but when it came to you… she—,"
and then memories had come flooding back in that very moment, every touch of the imposter's fingers dancing across your skin, every moan and whimper she had drawn from you as she claimed you whilst falsely wearing your boyfriend's face. "she snapped my neck," you announced in a daze, the others visibly shocked as gasps rippled through the space. alyosha's hand clamped around yours, an arm wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into his body.
you hadn't had the nerve to disclose anything else. as they all began to wonder why she had never laid a hand on you before that, hearing traveler and mitya explain how she had spoken to you so softly, with a slight lull of teasing to her tone, and how she'd essentially fooled them with a false attack to snatch you into her hold, you remained quiet. for in contrast to them, you had different questions. such as why she would feel the need to behave so thoroughly with you, why she would have everyone be their normal selves, yet purposefully play by different rules for you. if she wanted to conceal herself and blend in, pretending to be alyosha then you could understand why she'd implement measures to make you so sick, ensuring you wouldn't be around to notice her odd behavior as alyosha.
but why would she curse you to feel a sense of need every time you were alone with her imitation of your partner? why would she take the time to kiss you hungrily, marking your skin so delightfully, leaving you wanting more? that could not have been part of her plan, whatsoever, yet she still did it. she made you indulge in sexual acts with her as she wore the face of alyosha, never taking it far enough but exploring such personal avenues with you, letting her hands trace your most private parts and keeping you begging for more.
yet here you lay in your bed, alyosha's arm thrown over your waist and his sleeping form next to you as he slept peacefully. just like you, the cold was biting at his skin, and thus you'd thrown your entire duvet over him. if he woke up, he would be appalled to find you lying damn near bare in these freezing degrees, tucking you in and placating you into a peaceful and restful sleep. but with your fingers tracing over the various bruises imprinted against your collarbones, hissing as your fingertips made contact with the various bite marks decorating your skin, you couldn't help but feel guilty. the bruises and marks were somehow invisible to everyone else, leaving them blissfully unaware of what you had been through, all while the marks beautifully embellished your skin.
for not only had you not told anyone, not even alyosha, but your mind kept drifting back to those heated moments. you were conflicted, for she had done these things to you without your consent. she had implanted a curse on you in her realm of death, keeping you sated and in her control as she had her way with you. yet you couldn't help but feel that same heat grow in your stomach when you closed your eyes and experienced those moments again.
the moments in which your brain would flicker between your memory of alyosha pulling moans from you and the image of the divine woman you'd seen, her dark hands with sharp nails traversing across your chest, her face coming closer to yours as those nails dug into your skin, relishing in your pain. the shade of death had left her mark on you, filling your mind with images of her exploits as your boyfriend, yet replacing his face with her own as she leaned down to keep your jaw open for her, sliding her clawed fingers into your warm mouth.
and somewhere in the darkness of your bedroom, your eyes would flicker over to find the symbol of a red eye painted across your wall, blinking slowly as it watched you trace across her claim on you with a hunger in your gaze and her name spilling from your lips.
the same name she had never once told you but kept echoing in your mind, spilling in moans as you reached out towards the eye, reaching out for her touch on you once more as a figure stepped out from the shadows with graceful steps and her eyes blown wide at the sight of your body spread out so readily for her with the arm of your boyfriend around your waist.
"i knew you'd call for me, little lamb."
r speaks. sorry :3 i hope u all enjoyed this very depraved fic.
synopsis : a storm cuts your expedition short, leaving you and lohen stuck in an abandoned cabin in nod-krai. one thing leads to another when you admit that you've never had your first kiss. and suddenly, being best friends doesn’t feel quite as simple anymore.
content : 18+. smut — fingering, unprotected sex, nipple sucking, first kiss, choking, rough sex, biting, virgin reader, plot heavy
word count : 5.1k
note : lowk the nastiest shit ive written nd i sped thru the editing apologies
Lohen, has yet again, been sent on an expedition to Nod-Krai. With a rather amusing partner, to add. Not only does Lohen get to observe Leyline anomalies, a less demanding expedition compared to the Wild Hunt experience he’s had with Varka, he also gets to enjoy his time in Nod-Krai alongside a best friend he’s known for years.
Having met Lohen way back in Dorman Port meant that you would have a lifetime of friendship to share with him. You knew all about the bittersweet part of his story and he knew better than to take advantage of your secret-keeping skills. Lohen warmed up to you overtime when you, too, told him about your own story. From then on, an unmistakable bond had formed between you two and you had become one of the people that Lohen sees as permanent.
“I see Grand Master Varka has assigned you to this case, too.” His sly voice never gets past you. With an equally smug smile present on his lips, he beams at you from a near distance while leaning against a pillar.
You roll your eyes albeit the smile cascading on your lips. “I wish he hadn’t now that I know you’re on this too.” You slip out the usual teasing—pretending that being with him is the most unfortunate situation one could be in.
Lohen shrugs his shoulders, tosses you a paper filled in with all the details of the expedition. “Yeah, right. Don’t hold me back later on, m’kay?” He waves a hand before turning around, the smile ghosting off of his lips as he makes his way towards a nearby table to organize his things.
You scoff while you run through the details, “I should be the one telling you that, Mr. Your-Handwriting-Sucks.” You smack the paper onto the wooden table when you hear Lohen snort from where he stood, his back facing you.
“Alright, can’t get anything to say about my skills so you target my handwriting. How mature.” He spits back but there’s that gentle teasing present in both of your voices that keeps offense at bay.
You know Lohen far too well to even mistake his harsh words for offense. You know him, even by the slightest lilt of his voice, that he enjoys this playful banter with you as you do with him. And that’s one thing you’re happy to share with him—mutual understanding.
Calm silence engulfs the room for a split second before Lohen’s things shuffle. “We move in two hours. Glad to have you on the ship, [Name].” He turns around, irises glinting a bit with enthusiasm and you catch his eyes for a second. On his lips plastered a playful smirk when he sees that your lips ghosted a smile, and your cheeks faint with pinkness he doesn’t have the courage to acknowledge where from.
You watch him leave the room and you’re left alone and occupied with your thoughts. Particularly, one thought stuck with you. To think you’re about to spend two weeks with Lohen at some faraway land across Teyvat is something you should not be so enthusiastically excited about. After all, Lohen’s your best friend and this, everything about it, shouldn’t be such a fascinating situation to you.
On the other hand, Lohen wishes he hadn’t been so aware of everything. Because now, he wonders. Every little hint from you, he thinks about. And he can’t help but smile just a tad bit when he realizes he’s thinking about it again—the fact that you’ve liked him for quite some time now and he’s merely playing the innocent façade to see where it leads him to.
Though, one would say that Lohen isn’t all that subtle too. To think that Lohen is this hyperfixated on the fact that you like him quite already tells one the whole picture.
The rain began quietly, little droplets spread onto the concrete on Nod-Krai’s streets. At first, it didn’t do much to disrupt your on-going expedition, but as soon as a few seconds had passed by, it started going on a rampage. Thunder struck down from the heavens and those who strolled the streets immediately ran to seek shelter like you and Lohen did.
“Put this on, [Name]—!” Lohen’s voice came from beside you and when you looked to see, he had his arm reached out and his jacket in hand. “Put it on your head, let’s go over there.”
You take the jacket from him, shawling it on your head as you both run across the wet cement and through the raging storm to get to a nearby shelter.
You thank the Archons for putting you alongside Lohen when the storm abruptly came to delay the expedition’s progress. Having been stationed quite a distance from the Knights’ headquarters, your only option was to take shelter at some old, abandoned cabin.
When the wood creaked beneath your feet and the droplets cracked sound against the rooftop, the cold wind ran past you making you shiver.
You look around, eyes scanning the rather old exterior of the cabin. “What’s this place?” You ask, hands busy with the jacket, putting it around you despite it being heavy with absorbed water. Though, it did do much to shield you from the freezing breeze of the storm.
Lohen pushes the door open with ease and his eyes observe the rust that covered the hearth in the center of the room and the cobwebs that circled around the ceiling. “Seems like an old adventurer’s cabin. Abandoned, too.” He invites you in, shuts the door behind to keep you both warm from the relentless cold.
He finds wood on the hearth and a box of matchsticks on top of it. “Thank the Archons, look at what we have.” He snickers while he lights a stick up then tosses it onto the hearth, the fire immediately spreading to create an even stronger source of warmth.
You chuckle at his enthusiasm but your smile soon gets replaced by a frown when thunder rumbles outside and the rain droplets echo louder against the rooftop. “Sounds like the rain won’t be stopping any time soon.” You slump your shoulders before sitting in front of the hearth beside Lohen on the floor.
Lohen hums, putting his hands before the fire and rubbing them against each other. He frees himself off the tight outer layers of his clothing, leaving himself in a loose white dress shirt. You hear his accessories chiming softly when he takes each layer off and you dare not look beside you when he does so. Only ever keeping your eyes situated on the blazing fire before you.
“Haaa… I feel so much lighter.” He slumps beside you, an expression of relief evident on his face when you finally look to see him no longer dressed in his wet outer layers. “And warmer.”
Silence engulfs you both for a few beats before Lohen speaks up again. “You should, you know, get those outer layers off too. They’re wet and you’re going to catch a cold if you stay in them.” Lohen eyes you from where he sat and surely, he was just looking out for you.
You hum, considering it before finally putting the jacket onto your side and slowly unbuttoning your own to free yourself off the cold fabric that water clung onto.
When done, you’re left in a rather thin shirt. One that you’d wear as an inner to keep the fabric of your clothes from rubbing onto your skin. And albeit the chill air from the storm that entered through the cracks of the cabin, you felt no such breeze. All that your skin met was the oddly comforting warmth of sitting in front of a fire beside your best friend.
“Feel better?” Lohen shoots you a smile and when you nod he snickers proudly, “told ‘ya.”
The fire cackling is the only sound that engulfed the cabin for the first few moments of your stay. You nuzzled closer into the hearth, wrapping your arms around your torso to envelope yourself in some additional warmth.
“Say, have you read that book?” Lohen snaps his fingers as though he’s recalling something that’s poking right against the tip of his tongue. “That one—you know, the one Miss Lisa told us to read? Ah, what was the title of that again.” He groans in frustration when the title doesn’t come to him.
You look up at the ceiling, hearing the harsh droplets of the rain against the roof. “Wasn’t it ‘Love Is A Cruel Endeavor For An Adventurer’?"
Lohen’s lips fall agape when you mention the one book that he has read, and indeed the very book he’s referring to. “Yeah, yeah, that one. What d’ya think about it?” And all of the sudden, the tension disappears when he leans closer to you as though he’s anticipating your very interesting response to his query.
You try to usher back when the proximity becomes somewhat somehow unfamiliar to what you’re usually used to when it comes to Lohen. You clear your throat before casually sharing your thoughts. “Good writing, I guess. The kissing scene was—” your words halt just a tad bit and you almost choke when you catch yourself, “—was my favorite scene.” You can only hope your thoughts won’t make the situation more awkward as it already is.
Lohen gasps, leaning back in disbelief. “No way. That scene was absolute bullshit actually, first kisses don't go like that in real life.” He muses out, hands in the air as if your thoughts are most unbelievable.
You scoff before looking away, “who are you to judge anyway? Have you had your first kiss?” You push, looking back at him with eyes so innocently looking into his own.
Lohen huffs when he hears your question. For a second there, he considers lying. But then, he’s got a penchant for teasing and one person he so likes making playful fun of is you.
He rolls his eyes before looking back at you with a mocking glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah, I have. I mean who hasn’t? At our grown age, surely one kiss is expected.” The words loll out of his lips so naturally. “What? You haven’t had yours yet?”
There it is again, Lohen’s signature teasing tone. And you’d recognize it even at a distance. Partnered with the usual mocking smile he wore. Oh, he’s got you offended.
You can’t bring yourself to lie about it because he’s right—you haven’t had your first kiss yet. Silence envelopes the room and the only sound heard is the quiet cackling of the fire in the hearth that kept you both warm in the raging storm.
Lohen takes notice of the overdue silence and bursts out a laugh. “Oh, fuck, was I right? You haven’t had your first kiss, yet? Oh my—” He cackles in between words and a blush begins to form across your cheeks when his teasing goes right through your skin and hits a nerve.
“Oh, shut it, Lohen.” You roll your eyes, folding your arms across your chest before inching towards the fire. You turn your body to the side to eye Lohen who was hysterically laughing at the newfound information of you not yet having your first kiss. “Bet kissing feels weird anyway. I mean, all that saliva? Unhygienic, too.”
Your attempt to gaslight yourself only brings Lohen laughing out of his wits. He clutches his stomach as he folds forward, towards you. All that echoes across the room is his laughter—his laugh that you're oh so willing to listen to for the entirety of your stay here in this cabin.
“Oh yeah?” Lohen finally sits back up straight, wiping the tears of joy that ran down his cheeks from too much laughing. “Wanna—” he laughs again, “find out?”
His laughter stops but the smile etched on his lips did not falter as he looked you dead in the eye. He takes note of the pout on your lips and your furrowed eyebrows—probably because his teasing had frustrated you. The teasing smile he had now turned into one with intentions, and even though you’re trying your best not to give into whatever he’s inviting you into, there’s a certain interest that clouds his eyes.
Lohen sees the subtle quiver of your lips and he looks away while he considers what he’s about to do. He gestures to you to lean into him. “Come closer, I’ll teach you.” Typical Lohen, always getting into things that will get him into trouble after.
You eye him suspiciously at first while you consider what you’re about to do. The vivid image of your first time meeting Lohen back at Dorman Port flashes across your mind and you wonder if this one-time thing is worth ruining whatever bond you two have formed over the years.
But then again, at some point—you don’t know when—the feelings you held for your best friend had outweighed the friendship you two shared. Your stomach churns at the thought but your heart no longer beats the same way as it did before whenever your eyes landed on him.
Though, while you scooted over towards him, you did not wonder what came over him to suggest such a thing.
Your knees touch as you both sit on the floor, the fire cackling beside you and your breaths fanning each other’s lips. Your glossed lips agape while your eyes nervously jump from his eyes down to his lips and back to his eyes.
You feel pathetic. Because while you swallow a nervous lump, Lohen’s expression holds a smug one. Lips upturned into a mocking smirk and a soft chuckle exiting his lips while he inches closer to you. One hand reaching out to caress your cheeks that are so warm with the blood that had rushed with the feeling of anticipation.
“Open your lips a tad bit.” He instructs, nodding his head towards you as he leans in even impossibly closer. He takes a hold of your shoulder, rubbing his hand up and down against it before whispering to you, “relax. It’s just me, [Name].” Then he moves to wrap his fingers around your nape.
You feel your shoulders buzz when finally, his lips land on yours. It’s cinematic in the way that you immediately feel the softness of his rather pink lips, and the warmth that enveloped him is now shared with you. His fingers gingerly caress your cheeks while his lips actively chase after your inexperienced ones.
You don’t know what you’re doing yet Lohen keeps on tugging you back every time you try to lean away. You’re very much convinced that you’re doing it right because he’s not doing much to end the kiss. Instead, you feel Lohen’s tongue on the crease of your mouth’s entrance, as though he’s seeking your permission that he enters. Unaware, you merely open your lips just a tad bit and the next thing you feel is the strange lap of his tongue against yours.
A sound finally leaves your lips when he swirls his tongue with yours, leading you in a dance of lust and morally compromised decisions.
You hear Lohen chuckle lowly against the kiss when the oddly lewd sound leaves your throat. His free hand moves to hold you by your waist, fingers tugging you inwards until you’re one inch away from sitting on his lap.
Finally, Lohen pulls back. And he has you gasping for air when the kiss finally ends with a string of a saliva still connecting you both. The image is lewd—your fingers loosely yanking at his dress shirt while one of his hands rested firmly on the curve of your hips and both of your shoulders heaving up and down breathlessly.
“You good?” He puckers his lips out before pressing a peck onto your lips for the last time and it catches you off guard, shoulder jerking at the speed of everything.
“Not bad.” Lohen comments and your eyebrows raise. “For a first timer, you are a pretty good kisser.” He hums before tugging you even closer that it’s almost impossible not to land on his lap.
“Want more?” He guides you to finally settle on his lap as he turns slightly to face the fireplace. Your bottom rests firmly on his lap and a blush spreads across your cheek when you feel something poking you, and so by the great blessing of the Archons, you try your best to ignore it.
He presses a kiss to your cheeks as his hands make their way around your waist, hugging you from behind and caressing your stomach through the thin fabric of your tee. “Use me, pretty girl.” His hot breath fans against your ear and you finally acknowledge the heat that pools down there.
The hands that once held your hands while he teaches you to wield a weapon was now wrapped around your neck, arching your head upwards so that he can press his lips on your soft skin. Teeth digging down your flesh and it elicits a sound from you. You feel vibrations down your throat when he chuckles against you, “good, yeah?”
You hum out softly before leaning back against him, you crane your neck to the side as Lohen’s lips land to nip at a better spot against the skin of your neck. You feel him suck, and bite through your flesh—his teeth digging down your skin and you’re quite certain he’s made you bleed.
You let out a soft moan as he moves to another spot, “it hurts… Lohen.” You call out his name as he sucks against your skin once more, quite determined that he leaves some sort of mark on you.
You feel him vibrate behind you as he speaks. “Really? ‘m sorry, pretty girl.” He calls you by that name again and it makes your heart flutter—because why would he call you by that name? He nips against your skin again like he hasn’t said anything to make your heart race and your body warm with confusion.
You swallow yet again another nervous lump as Lohen’s hands roam, going down under your shirt and you finally feel his bare hands against your naked skin. They rest on your stomach before exploring upwards and you jerk at the feeling of his fingers dangerously close to your mounds.
He breathes out before pressing a kiss onto your cheek and down to your neck. “Can I?” He requests as if his character isn’t all built around someone who dislikes having his authority challenged. But with you, he speaks differently—as if you possess something that breaks his character altogether.
You merely look to his side, pressing a kiss onto his lips as a reply. He digs his fingers underneath your garment and finally rests to cup your mounds and your perked up nipples. You shiver at the feeling of being cupped, his rough hands feel soft against your skin. This is new yet you feel no strangeness to it, not even while he relishes in the feeling of your soft tits in his hands.
“You feel so soft against me, [Name]. Are you enjoying this?” He takes note of your erected nipples, smirking proudly to himself when he realizes it is in fact a sign of your arousal.
You let out a soft moan again, body wiggling as an attempt to ease the anticipation you’re feeling and as well as to calm your nerves that have been raging ever since the kiss had your heat pooling slick down there.
You swallow a lump of saliva down your throat as his hands trace the shape of your body, leaving electricity to trail down your skin as he does so. His fingers reach the curve of your hips, thumbs circling around an area before they hook themselves on the hem of your pants.
“Are we good?” He converses, making sure that you’re lucid all throughout whatever you’re about to do and not merely doing it because it’s cold and loud outside with the storm raging on.
You nod your head, sliding your arm down until your fingertips feel the rough surface of his leg. You squirm on his lap until you feel something that pokes your back. It makes your cheeks flush with blood, embarrassed and shy that you might have made Lohen that way.
He puts one hand inside of your pants and at first it feels uncomfortable but when Lohen positions you properly, a wave of coziness washes over you and you find yourself leaning back against his chest. But it’s short-lived when you feel his hand trace over your clothed pussy, only after a while does he cup you through your panties.
A mocking scoff—yet proudly so—exits his lips when he feels the dampness on his palm. The slick immediately covers his hand like it’s been pooling waterfalls down there. “Oh, would you look at that, you seem so eager for someone who hates the idea of kissing, pretty girl.” He muses, fingers tracing down the slit of your pussy, teasing you ever so slightly.
It fusses something inside you—the way his slender, and rather bony fingers teasing your entrance. The feeling of your panties in the way fuels your desire to feel him deep inside of you. You croak out a choked moan, “faster, Lohen. Quick…”
He chuckles at this, finding your impatience amusing. He wastes no time, putting your panties to the side and sliding two digits inside of you with ease—well, with the way you’re so wet with your arousal, it indeed is easy.
You gasp out at the feeling of his fingers intruding inside of you with little to no preparation. You feel him repeatedly hit a spot and it gets your knees growing weak and your legs jerking with the way that you can’t do anything but receive the continuous wave of pleasure.
“Oh—fuck, Lohen—! Right there—” You choke out, hands going behind to grab whatever you can just to ease the feeling of pain and pleasure combining.
Lohen fastens his pace, making sure that he hits the right spot. “Oh yeah?” He lolls out as he takes a hold of your hips to hit somewhere even deeper. “Do my fingers feel good?”
It’s perverted—the way saliva drips down your chin as you nod your head and repeatedly say yes as an answer to his question. Who knew that one day, you’d have your best friend’s fingers up your pussy and he pumps them in and out like it’s his responsibility to do so?
The next thing you see is absolute darkness. Your eyelids grow weak and you feel yourself losing to exhaustion. As though stars cloud your mind, you lean back against him. You pass down your high as your cum spills. out of you and along his fingers that remained settled on your thighs.
“We good?” He kisses your cheeks as he wipes a bit of dampness off your thighs, rubbing his hand up and down on it while subtly keeping them open. “Can we keep going, pretty girl?” He asks, pulling on your chin to make you look at him.
Another wave of desperation washes over you and you feel unsatisfied from mere fingering. When you look deep into his eyes, you feel yourself tremble with the feeling of wanting more. Your pussy pulsates when his eyes stare deep inside of you and your eyes behold the beauty he held.
Lohen, truly, is beautiful.
Lohen chuckles when he notices your hand reaching out for him. You turn around from where you’re seated on his lap until you’re face to face with him. You planted both of your hands on your chest before pushing him down onto the dirty carpet of the wooden floor of this abandoned cabin. The wood creaks and the fire cackles peacefully behind you.
Lohen’s back lands on the carpet and he watches as you position yourself to sit on him. Both of your knees on either side of his thighs and one of your hands pressing up against his chest.
“Oh?” He muses, eyes glinting with mischief as he watches you take off your garments while your hips squirm against him. A smirk never left his lips even while you teasingly threw your clothes off until you’re left in nothing to reveal your naked body before him.
“Temptress. You are absolutely beautiful. I’ve always thought you were but help me Archons, this is on another level, pretty girl.” He gasps out, one hand impatiently reaching out to touch your body with such gentleness you wouldn’t see from him and his rather violent nature. “You feel soft. Dainty. I’m afraid I’ve tainted you.” He chuckles unapologetically as his eyes trace upon the red marks he’s made all across your neck.
He pulls you in by your wrists, lowering you down until both of your lips are locked together again. He swirls his tongue with yours and it doesn’t take you long before you’ve become used to the feeling. Used and addicted, that is.
You sit back up and he follows, he lowers himself down as you arch your back involuntarily when his lips land on the crevice of your neck and his tongue trails down, leaving a line of saliva, to kiss around the curve of your mounds. Then, he takes one perked up bud into his mouth, eyes looking back up to watch how your face contorts with the ecstatic feeling of his tongue rolling up and down your sensitive nipple.
“Fuck, Lohen—” You grab a hold of his hair and he chuckles against you when he feels you pull. “That’s—ah, fuck—” Your torso jerks and he finally pulls away.
You help him get out his own garments and when he’s finally free of all sorts of fabric, you too, revel in the sight of his naked body shining beneath the spark of a lit-up fireplace. Your eyes trail down until they settle on his erection that’s patiently waiting for you and your touch.
“Come on, pretty girl. Touch me.” He asks of you and you bite down on your lips before leaning down to press a kiss on his lips while one of your hands makes its way to caress his length. You feel him jerk beneath you and your fingertips lay to catch a feeling of his erected dick.
He leans back to lay his eyes back on you. His chest heaves up and down, gasping for air while your hand is still busy feeling him down there. “Should I be on top? I mean, we don’t have any rubber here, pretty girl.”
You roll your eyes before sitting back up straight and putting both of your hands on his chest as you elevate yourself. “Just tell me to hop off.” You line yourself on his dick and when your slit touches his tip, you see him visibly shiver.
He chuckles defeatedly, “sure, but aren’t you on contraceptives or something?” You shake your head as an answer and Lohen pinches the flesh of your waist. “Gotta get you on ‘em now, then. Or buy rubbers. ‘Cause we are not doing this just this one time, pretty girl.”
You sink down onto his length and Lohen groans at the feeling of your gummy walls around him. Your slick covering his dick wet and you feel utterly complete when you’ve pushed all the way and you’re so full of him. It’s scandalous—the way you’re taking your time to adjust to his length and size, sitting still and relishing in the feeling of being so full with his dick all the way inside of you.
“You feel so good, [Name].” Lohen groans out, eyes closing when the pleasure comes caving in. “Like real good. Do I feel good?” He asks yet you don’t formulate any sort of answer inside of you because you’re overwhelmed with the feeling of his dick filling up every space inside of you.
You attempt to hop up and down and a moan leaves both of your lips at the same at the first movement. “Why? Are you going to make this a friendship with benefits kinda thing?” Your voice shakes when you ask him that, hips going up and down and back and forth until you find whatever feels best for you but then you realize it doesn’t matter because Lohen reaches a certain spot inside of you that he hits with no problem.
Lohen curses out when you finally bounce with ease on top of him. Both of his hands planted firmly on your waist while he bucks his hips upwards to hit even deeper. “The fuck?” Offendedly, he lets out a curse. “I’m going to take you on a proper date when we get back to Mondstadt, pretty girl.”
You roll your eyes back as you bounce relentlessly on top of him. “Lo—that feels so good—!” His words bounce back on the back of your head when realization settles in and the feeling of pleasure combines with confusion.
Realization settles in and your lips quiver. “What?” Your speed wavers yet Lohen keeps bucking his hips upwards, thrusting into you with a smirk on his lips.
He snickers, “what? You think I haven’t noticed? That you like me?” He looks deep into your eyes before he sits up, hips still going hard thrusting inwards to you and his dick hitting a certain spot that sends shivers down your spine and your legs tremble ever so slightly when you feel a knot slowly tightening.
You can’t think of anything to defend yourself. To deny it is something foolish because you can never hide secrets from him, not from Lohen. You laugh, whole-heartedly before putting your arms around his neck, keeping your hips stable before you start fastening your speed again. “Ah, so you’ve been—ngh—observing me real good to notice then?” You moan in between words.
Lohen chuckles before finally firmly planting his hands on your hips to usher you off him and cum spills out of him the same way yours do out of your pussy. He pumps himself a few times while snickering, “yeah, had to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. Besides, it’s hard not to pay attention to someone I like.”
He pulls you into another kiss—a fat one at that. His lips connect with yours, tongues swirling with one another as though you’re developing a habit with the way he’s rhythmically dancing with yours. You smile against the kiss as his words echo inside of your mind and the feeling of his arms wrap around your torso, pulling you impossibly closer.
“Let’s clean you up, baby.”
modern love is a cruel endeavor but fuck it whatever
lohen x mage f!reader someone who's in the hexenzirkel like i remember the nod krai quest which was so peak but looking back at nicole and varka i wonder how it would be w lohen like yes the reader should lowk be like Nicole but not exactly... in a way...
get it??
I think I understand what you mean. Hopefully this oneshot envisioned what you had in mind. And if I got it all wrong then I’m so sorry in advance!
Also imma be honest with you, while I did finish the nod krai quest, I legit don’t remember what happened. It was way too long for me to process stuff, so in advance this oneshot might sound, well, not the same as it is in canon.
I also added my own little spin to this, how I thought maybe I give the reader a little side quest thing in nod krai to potentially explore.
Although I will say I’m excited to write about Lohen! One of my top favourite characters fr
╰┈☆ Magic Words ☆┈╯
Lohen x mage!f reader
Words: 2405
Cw: None.
Not beta read. Some spelling or grammar errors might be seen
The Witch Who Listens.
That’s what you were most known as among the people of Teyvat.
Though not as well known as Alice or even Nicole, you were still a member of the Hexenzirkel. And that title alone meant more than enough to establish that you were just as powerful as any of them.
They said your powers were those of memory, dreams, emotions, or echoes.
You could perceive things that had happened in a location, sense fragments of people's memories, and, if you focused hard enough, even catch glimpses of emotions that had long since faded.
It was a useful skill.
Unsettling, too.
Which was exactly why you preferred to keep your abilities to yourself.
You never liked the way people looked at you whenever they found out what you could do.
Some were fascinated.
Others were afraid.
And there were always those who wondered if you could see their memories.
You could.
But that didn't mean you wanted to.
So you kept your distance.
You preferred your own company, finding that people were far too exhausting to deal with for long periods of time. You had your books, your magic, your research, and, most importantly, your peace.
Alice had tried countless times to drag you out of your solitude.
"Come with me!"
"No."
"You haven't even heard where we're going!"
"I don't need to."
And somehow, despite your repeated refusals, she never seemed discouraged.
You were perfectly content going at your own pace.
Or, at least, you had been.
Until Nod-Krai.
You hadn't intended to go there.
In fact, if someone had told you a few weeks ago that you'd willingly travel all the way to Nod-Krai, you probably would've laughed in their face.
Nod-Krai was hardly the sort of place you sought out.
A remote region south of Snezhnaya.
A place where different factions crossed paths, where the Abyss and the Wild Hunt had left their mark, and where even the people who called the region home had their own struggles to contend with.
You had no reason to involve yourself.
At least, that was what you had told yourself.
Then the reports began arriving.
Strange disturbances.
Unusual magical activity.
Memories lingering in places where they shouldn't.
And, most importantly...
Echoes.
Echoes that shouldn't have existed.
Normally, you would've ignored it.
After all, there was always something happening somewhere in Teyvat. You had no reason to involve yourself in every little incident simply because your abilities could be useful.
Then Nicole contacted you.
And when another member of the Hexenzirkel personally sought your assistance, it was usually for a reason.
.
.
.
"Pretty please?"
You could practically hear the amusement in Nicole's voice when she had asked.
You had stared at the empty space in front of you for several moments.
"...You're really pulling the Hexenzirkel card?"
"Maybe."
You sighed.
Of course she was.
Nicole had a way of making requests sound like suggestions while somehow making it impossible to refuse them.
"There's something strange happening in Nod-Krai."
"I've heard."
"Then you know why I'm asking."
"I know why you're asking."
"And?"
You had remained silent.
"Come on."
"...Fine."
"I knew you'd say yes."
"Don't sound so pleased with yourself."
You could practically hear her smiling.
.
.
.
And that was how you found yourself aboard a ship bound for Nod-Krai.
You weren't alone, either.
The vessel carried members of the Knights of Favonius who were travelling to join Grand Master Varka and the Mondstadt expedition already operating in the region.
You had barely been on board for an hour when someone approached you.
"Who are you?"
You looked up from your book.
A man stood a short distance away, his gaze fixed on you.
You recognized him immediately.
Lohen.
Vice Captain of the Knights of Favonius' Fifth Company.
You had heard the name before.
You'd heard stories, too.
A knight who enjoyed fighting.
Someone who wasn't particularly opposed to charging headfirst into danger.
And, if the rumors were anything to go by, someone who had a rather questionable relationship with poison.
You closed your book.
"A traveler."
Lohen stared.
"...That's it?"
"That's what I said."
He studied you for a moment longer.
"And you're heading to Nod-Krai?"
"Apparently."
"Apparently?"
"A friend asked me to go."
"Friend?"
You hesitated.
"...Nicole."
That got his attention. Lohen's expression changed almost immediately.
"Nicole?"
"Yes."
“…The Hexenzirkel witch?"
You nodded.
His eyes narrowed slightly in curiosity.
"Then you're a witch."
"Observant."
"And you're going to Nod-Krai because she asked you to?"
"Yes."
He continued staring.
You stared back.
Neither of you spoke for several seconds.
Then Lohen finally sighed, shaking his head.
"You're strange."
"And you're nosy."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"Fair enough."
You returned to your book.
You assumed that would be the end of the conversation.
It wasn't.
Over the course of the journey, Lohen found numerous excuses to speak to you.
Sometimes it was about the weather.
Sometimes it was about Nod-Krai.
Sometimes it was simply because he wanted to know what you were reading.
You eventually realized what he was doing.
He was watching you.
Monitoring you.
Trying to determine whether you were hiding something.
You couldn't exactly blame him.
You were a Hexenzirkel witch, after all.
And he was a knight travelling into an unfamiliar land where danger could appear at any moment.
Still...
It was irritating.
By the time you finally arrived in Nod-Krai, you had learned one thing about Lohen.
He didn't trust easily.
You could relate.
The cold air immediately hit you as you stepped onto the unfamiliar land, the wind carrying tiny flakes of snow across the ground.
You had only just arrived.
Yet something already felt wrong.
Not dangerous.
Not exactly.
Just...
off.
Your fingers twitched.
A faint violet glow curled around them, thin strands of magic flickering between your fingertips before disappearing into the cold air.
You frowned.
An echo.
Already?
You slowly lowered your hand.
"You're awfully quiet."
You glanced sideways.
Lohen was walking beside you, his gaze fixed ahead as the two of you made your way toward the Mondstadt expedition's encampment.
"I'm always quiet."
"Not like this."
You raised an eyebrow.
"You've known me for how long?"
"Long enough."
That answer earned him a small scoff.
Of course it did.
You had spent enough time around Lohen during the journey to realize that he was far more observant than you initially gave him credit for.
Annoyingly so.
He noticed things.
Things you preferred people didn't notice.
The slight change in your expression whenever your magic reacted to something.
The way you became quieter whenever you sensed an unfamiliar memory lingering in an area.
The way you avoided touching certain objects because you knew exactly what might happen if you did.
And right now...
Your fingers were beginning to glow again.
A faint violet light curled around them, thin strands of magic flickering between your fingertips before disappearing into the cold air.
Lohen noticed immediately.
"You've sensed something."
You stopped walking.
For a moment, you said nothing.
Then you looked toward the path ahead.
"...Yes."
The feeling was faint.
Almost impossible to notice.
But you knew it.
An echo.
Something had happened here.
Something that had left a memory behind.
And whatever it was...
It didn't want to be forgotten.
With a small hum of curiosity, you slowly lowered your hand as Lohen watched you carefully.
"What did you see?" He asked, crossing his arms.
"Nothing."
You answered too quickly. Lohen's eyebrow raised.
"You stopped walking."
"I said I saw nothing."
"You also said that the last time you sensed something."
"And was I wrong?"
"No."
"Then there you go."
Lohen groans, like a whiny child that was being kept from learning secrets, and he wanted to know.
"You really don't like telling people things, do you?"
"No."
He pouted before exhaling, shrugging his shoulders.
"At least you're honest."
You were about to continue walking when a familiar voice suddenly echoed through your mind.
“There you are.”
You froze.
"...Oh, no."
Lohen looked at you, his head tilting slightly.
"What?"
You rubbed your temple.
"I know that voice."
A faint laugh followed.
“You really should stop ignoring my calls.”
Your expression flattened.
"Nicole."
Lohen's attention immediately sharpened.
He recognized the name.
The voice of the Hexenzirkel witch continued inside your head, amused as ever.
“I was wondering when you'd finally notice.”
"Notice what?"
“The same thing you've just sensed.”
Your gaze drifted back toward the path.
The strange echo was still there.
Faint.
Buried beneath the layers of magic surrounding Nod-Krai.
But now that Nicole had mentioned it, you could feel something else underneath it.
Something much older.
"What does this have to do with Nod-Krai?"
“Everything.”
You frowned.
Of course she wouldn't simply explain.
Nicole had always been like that.
She knew far more than she ever told you, and somehow managed to make every answer sound like another question.
“There's something happening here.” Nicole continued. ‘Something even I can't completely see.”
"Then why are you asking me?"
“Because you're the Witch Who Listens.”
You rolled your eyes.
"You know I hate that title."
“And yet it suits you perfectly.”
"Nicole."
“You'll need to investigate the echoes.”
You glanced toward Lohen.
He had remained silent throughout the entire exchange.
"And if I don't?"
There was a brief silence.
Then Nicole's voice softened.
“Then someone else may hear them first.”
Your expression changed.
"...Who?"
“That's what I need you to find out.”
The connection disappeared.
Silence returned.
For several seconds, neither you nor Lohen said anything.
Then—
"So."
You looked at him. "Nicole wants me to investigate something." Was all that came out of your mouth, as Lohen hummed out loud in response.
"Just you?"
You paused.
"Apparently."
Lohen smirked. Hands on hips as he decided something.
"I'll come with you."
You stared at him dumbfounded, before staring with suspicion.
"Why?"
"Because you shouldn't be investigating something strange and potentially dangerous alone."
You narrowed your eyes.
"Are you always this persistent?"
"Usually."
"...You're starting to sound like Alice."
"Oh~? I'll take that as a compliment."
"It wasn't."
He laughed.
And despite yourself, you smiled before looking away.
You continued toward the expedition camp. You were here for more than Nicole's request.
The Knights of Favonius had come to Nod-Krai as part of Varka's expedition, and if there was anything you could do to help, you would.
You simply weren't entirely sure what that help would look like yet.
You had heard enough about the situation to know that Nod-Krai was dangerous.
The Abyss.
The Wild Hunt.
The various factions operating throughout the region.
And whatever it was that had drawn the Knights so far from Mondstadt.
You'd find out soon enough.
Beside you, Lohen continued walking. His arms were relaxed at his sides. His eyes, however, lingered on you.
He wondered about you.
About the strange magic that seemed to follow you.
About the Hexenzirkel.
About how strong you really were.
Lohen had always enjoyed a strong opponent.
Perhaps he could ask you for a few rounds once things settled down.
Not that he would mind finding an excuse to spend more time with you, either.
After all...
You were interesting.
And Lohen had always enjoyed interesting people.
Especially ones who looked at him like they were already regretting meeting him.
Eventually, the two of you reached the expedition's encampment. Knights of Favonius moved between tents, carrying supplies and speaking amongst themselves.
The atmosphere was busy, but organized. This wasn't some small scouting party. Varka had brought a proper expedition. And standing near the center of it all was the man you had come here to find.
Varka.
Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius.
He was speaking with several knights when he noticed the two of you approaching.
His gaze shifted from you...
To Lohen...
Then back to you.
A knowing smile slowly spread across his face.
"Well, well."
You immediately became suspicious.
"What?"
Varka folded his arms.
"I was expecting Lohen."
You blinked.
"And?"
His eyes flicked toward you.
"Didn't expect him to bring company."
You crossed your arms. As he chuckled and stepped forward and offered you his hand. You didn’t shake it, not out of rudeness but because you didn’t want to risk accidentally seeking into his memories and whatnot.
"Varka. Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius."
"I know who you are."
"Of course you do."
He grins, lowering his hand. "You're the Hexenzirkel witch Nicole sent, aren't you?"
Your eyes narrowed, not expecting this.
"...She told you?"
"In a letter. Never actually met her though, I was a little surprised to hear a Hexenzirkel was writing to me."
You immediately regretted asking.
Varka's attention shifted to Lohen.
"And you."
Lohen raised an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"I see you've already taken an interest."
Lohen's smile became just a little more sly.
"Someone has to keep an eye on her."
You stared at him while Varka's grin widened at the response.
"Oh?"
"It's nothing."
"Didn't say it was."
Lohen glanced toward you, amusement dancing in his eyes.
You crossed your arms, growing annoyed.
"Would the two of you like to stop talking about me as though I'm not standing right here?"
Varka blinks, but playfully sighs and raises an eyebrow.
"You've been here less than an hour."
"Exactly."
Lohen chuckled beside you, amused radiating off him as Varka shook his head, and cleared his throat.
"Well, come on. We've got plenty to discuss."
He turned toward the center of the encampment. You followed and Lohen fell into step beside you.
As you both walked, you caught him glancing at you again.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You keep looking at me."
"Do I?"
"Yes."
He smiled lazily.
"You'll get used to it."
You twitched an eye. "I certainly hope not." You scoffed at him, turning your head away from him.
He laughed in response.
And just like that, the two of you continued deeper into the expedition camp. You knew that the infamous Traveler would soon become involved in Nod-Krai's unfolding crisis.
Nicole would have her own part to play. Varka's expedition would continue its investigation into the dangers threatening the region. And somewhere beneath it all, the strange echoes continued to whisper.
You couldn't yet understand what they were trying to tell you.
summary — at this point, you were starting to think that lohen was looking forward to your time of the month.
themes — established relationship, period sex, missionary, porn with super light plot, creampie and orgasms, they're in love your honor ♡
WC: 1.3k | ao3
At this point, you were starting to think that Lohen was looking forward to your time of the month.
“What do you want me to do this time?” he asked, grinning so hard that you knew he could barely contain himself. “Eat you out? Fuck you? Finger you? You tell me, Bun.”
“Uh,” you said, giving him a smile while your hand pressed to his chest. “You’re pretty excited.”
“Well, it’s not every day I get to see you bleed,” Lohen chirped. “You look so pretty when it’s all over you.”
An odd compliment, but a compliment nonetheless. Rubbing his chest, you let out a soft laugh.
“I don’t really care for how it looks,” you said, “but it does feel good. I’m cramping, so…it helps.”
“Which is exactly why we do this. Primarily to alleviate the pain and suffering of my fairest lady.”
He kissed your brow, making you giggle again.
“Primarily,” you echoed.
“Uh-huh. The blood and sex is just an afterthought. Promise.”
Those hands of his were already working at your hips. He grabbed your ass with a firm squeeze, and when you shifted somewhat, you felt a gush of wetness between your legs. It was a bit embarrassing, but in the back of your mind you knew that the more blood there was, the better a time Lohen would have. It was a symbiotic affair—your cramps were eased and Lohen’s bloodlust was fed. When it came down to it, you could both reap the benefits.
“What do you want me to do?” he murmured, his voice low and rumbling into your ear. With another groping, tight squeeze of your ass beneath his palms, pulling your body further into his, he purred, “Tell me, pretty girl.”
You closed your eyes, smiling.
“Let’s get in bed,” you whispered.
The way he giggled made your face flush with heat.
“Ah, yeah,” Lohen whispered, his hands stroking the curve of your hips. “Look at that, Bun. Look at you all over me.”
Amidst your soft, breathy gasps, you turned your eyes to your pelvis. Lohen’s hips smacked into yours, wet and squelching with each plunge of his thick member. With every meet of your skin to his, a crimson color splattered itself further across his pale skin, staining him red with you.
“So pretty,” Lohen murmured, his blush nearly as red as the blood on his stomach. “Do you like it?”
The way he grinned made you whimper. Your brows arched across your forehead as you desperately nodded, pressing your hand to your lower abdomen. Not only were your menstrual cramps now nonexistent, but the rub of Lohen inside of you was making you weak.
He laughed, giving you a firm squeeze. With his red eyes trained on yours, he purred, “You’re turning me into a fuckin’ masterpiece, Bun.”
“Lohen,” you whispered back, your nails scratching across the surface of your stomach. Forming a tight fists right above your pelvis, you said, “That feels so good.”
“Oh, yeah?” he said, matching the softness of your voice with a hushed whisper of his own. “Would it feel better if I went faster or slower?”
“Faster,” you answered instantly, your face blazing with heat. “Faster, please.”
“No need to say please, Princess. You know you can get whatever you want from me.”
When he thrust into your harder, his skin smacking against yours in hot, wet bursts, you let out a shocked gasp. Lohen grinned at you, and with pleasured tears budding in your eyes, you whimpered, “Kiss me.”
No please from you, and no delay from him. He all but lurched over you, his hot mouth coming down onto yours like he was your only chance of salvation. Like his kisses were the only source of sustenance that could appease you, like the movement of his tongue across yours was your panacea. You furled yourself around him, hooking your arms and legs against his warm skin, and felt a hot tear roll down your cheek. Something about Lohen’s love for you always managed to grab hold of your emotions in these heated moments, and remind you of just how lucky you were to have him.
Lohen breathed hard through his nose. The way he fucked into you, stopping curtly afterwards, told you all you needed to know. When his mouth parted from yours, long eyelashes parted to reveal the lower half of his smoldering crimson eyes. He stared after you like he was in a drunken daze, giving you short, deep, and separated thrusts. Within you, you felt him twitching.
“You feel that?” he whispered, blinking lazily. “You did that, Bun. That’s yours.”
“Oh,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his back. “Lohen, please keep talking to me like that.”
“You don’t have to say please.” He lifted his hands to your face, continuing the motion of his hips as he throbbed within you. “I already told you I’d do anything for you, yeah? Just tell me to do something, and I’ll fuckin’ do it for you, Bun.”
“O-okay,” you answered shakily. “T-talk to me, then.”
“I’ll talk to you all you want,” he murmured, soft and slow. “Tell you about how you’re such a good girl. So warm…” Plap. “And wet…” Plap. “And tight for me.”
“Oh, God,” you sputtered, feeling the instinctive twitch of your hips up into his. “Lohen, I’m gonna cum.”
“Well,” he laughed, “that’s kind of the point, Princess.”
“Oh, fuck,” you whined, blinking rapidly as tears streamed down your face. Strong contractions wracked through your core—stronger than you usually felt when you weren’t menstruating. You could hardly even speak properly when you felt so euphoric, but there was always one word you could repeat like a mantra.
“Lohen,” you breathed, high-pitched and strained. You tucked your legs around his hips, pulling him into you. “Lohen. I feel so good.”
“Mm, yeah?” he murmured against your chin. “Do I make you feel good?”
“Yes,” you gasped, clawing at him. “Yes, Lohen, you do. I love you.”
He chuckled, saying, “I love you too, Bun.”
The sounds you made when you arched your back and tried to fuck back into him made the strength of your orgasm all that stronger. Lohen gave your jaw a playful bite, his teeth rubbing along your skin before being replaced by his hot tongue. You reached for a fistful of his hair, pulling it, and whined, “I love you so much.”
“I love you so much more,” he murmured, his breath rumbling against your chin. “You’re always so good for me, pretty girl.”
“Ah,” you gasped, “fuck.”
“You always look so pretty when you cum.”
“Fuck,” you repeated, your fingers in his hair grasping hard. “Lohen, don’t stop.”
The way he giggled was perverse—one of your favorite sounds when you needed it most. As you rode the wave of one orgasm after the other, practically fucking yourself on his half-hard dick, Lohen said, “Feels a lot better when you’re on your period, huh?”
“Yeah,” you sputtered, blinking rapidly. “It really does.”
He giggled again. “Maybe ‘cause your body knows it’s safe. Gotta make you feel extra good when you know you won’t be having my babies, right?”
With a hot moan, you fell back against the mattress. Your hand slackened against Lohen’s head, and as hot breaths entered and exited your parted lips, you stared up at him. He looked down on you with a toothy grin, but that blush of his told you all you needed to know.
“I wanna have your babies,” you whispered.
His eyes widened, the smile on his face turning a touch wider. Laughing somewhat nervously, he murmured, “It sounds so hot when you say it.”
You cracked a smile back at him. His lips parted for his bright grin.
“Wanna keep going?” he murmured. “Maybe roleplay a little bit? Like we’re actually trying?”
Coyly, you stroked your fingers along the hair at the nape of his neck. Giving him a playful look, you nodded.
“How about we try a more appropriate position?”
a/n: wrote this a while back when i was on my period lol. i will be writing a second part to this, though i don't currently have plans for when that may be!
anyway, if you liked what you read, please consider leaving a me a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated!
if you would like to be tagged whenever i post lohen x reader, please check my rules here! thank you!
icymi! chai's last lohen post:
spidey senses, lohen suggestive oneshot, spiderman au (280+ notes)
masterlist
⊹ ˖ fellow authors, i do not mind if you are inspired by my works to write something similar, but please credit me if you are. these concepts mean a lot to me, so i would really like to be credited for any of my personal ideas that inspire you. thank you!
characters ─ xiao, al haitham, scaramouche, varka, kaedehara kazuha, kyryll chudomirovich flins x f!reader
content ─ fluff, modern au, xiao's one was written like 2 or 3 years ago, not proofread, everyone is stupid here, projecting my girlfailureness onto reader, mention of blood in varka's part, a slight hint of angst if you squint enough. the prompts aren't mine!! i got them from different posts here years ago but i can't find them anymore. if you recognize any, please let me know so i can properly credit them !! hope you guys enjoy <3
genshin m.list ♡ each part is about 800-950 words long
until this day, you still had barely any clue on how you found yourself in a fake relationship with the famous drummer of the 6REEZE band.
a famous rockstar and a worldwide known actress.
the simple idea was ridiculous, you thought. your worlds had nearly nothing to do with each other.
his was a whirlwind of ear-deafening concerts, endless band practices and makeup so dark it made the amber shades of his eyes seem a little too hypnotizing for your heart to handle. on the other hand, yours was a soft and gentle lifestyle that included playing in heartwarming rom-coms and comforting yet soul shattering movies that left the deepest impressions in the viewers’ hearts.
the shock that nearly broke the internet on a global scale at the news of your relationship was nothing compared to the way you had nearly screamed while jumping out of your seat when your manager informed you of the next step in your career.
a break you had taken in the middle of your peak had awakened baseless rumors and provoked a decrease in your fame. and the solution was to date one of the most loved celebrities in liyue. and you still haven’t decided whether you hated your manager or not, yet.
not that you had the time.
between interviews, trying to get to know each other as fast as possible with xiao and luring the paparazzis into your supposedly “private” dates to keep appearances, you couldn’t help but catch a tiny teeny amount of feelings for the rockstar.
xiao was a bit too good at his role.
the arms around your waist, the hand at the small of your back and the occasional kisses you’d receive on your cheek or forehead to please your fans – sometimes enraging some. it all felt like a bunch of arrows being shot one at a time in your direction, piercing your chest open and urging you to hand your heart over to your fake boyfriend.
and this whole act was definitely getting to you.
after attending one of his concerts in the vip section, cheering for him and sending each other smiles, flying kisses and other cheesy displays of affection to one another to keep your fans entertained, you found yourself visiting him backstage.
the members of his band didn’t know that your relationship was a play. so, seeing you arrive, it was only natural for heizou to prompt everyone else to exit the makeup room, leaving you and xiao alone.
“you did amazing,” you told him with a soft smile, sitting beside him on the couch.
you handed him the cold bottle of water in your hands. stupidly enough, your heart clearly didn’t seem to manage getting used to the little touches or affectionate gestures. it hammered against your chest when his fingers brushed yours. nearly leaped out of your ribcage at the grateful smile he gave you, the sharp edges of his face softening and the paleness of his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.
you sat there in silence, enjoying each other’s company.
unconsciously, your head ended up resting on his shoulder. but none of you dared to make a move, scared that the slightest twitch would have the other pull away.
even after you had realized what you were doing. you didn’t budge. his head rested on top of yours and your heart did a little somersault in its cage, jumping all the way to your throat and resting on the tip of your tongue.
so close to make you spill all the unspoken feelings you couldn’t contain within yourself to him.
“i have to go back on stage,” xiao whispered gently.
you masked your disappointment, lifting your head from his shoulder and watching him as he stood up.
your eyes raked over his back, admiring how the deep v-cut of his shirt revealed a large portion of the skin beneath.
smooth. pale. slender and toned. and you couldn’t look away when you noticed the way his muscles moved as he arranged his hair and in-ears. how could you, really.
when xiao turned back towards you, he handed you back the bottle of water, leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your forehead. his lips slowly wandered all the way down your lips, leaving a trail of shivers and heat behind them. your brain didn’t process what was happening fast enough. at least, not before xiao had stormed out of the makeup room, realization befalling him.
you sat on the couch. speechless. unmoving. paralyzed in your seat as reality dawned on you.
did the play you were entertaining your audience with get to him to the point he kissed you out of habit?
but he never kissed your lips before!
did xiao hold some sort of affection for you that went beyond the limits set by the contract?
you shook your head frantically, not allowing yourself to go any further with that dumb, delusional, silly reasoning of yours.
and while you tried to compose yourself before going back to the concert, xiao was leaning against the other side of the door, a hand pressed to his mouth while his face glowed a bright red.
“what the hell,” xiao mumbled to himself, crouching on the floor.
𝖠𝖫 𝖧𝖠𝖨𝖳𝖧𝖠𝖬 - 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 𝗃𝖾𝖺𝗅𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗒 !! | 𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝗆𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗅
haitham was a rational man. he knew it. you knew it. and so did the entirety of sumeru.
he’s never acted on impulse a day in his life, never made any decision that would ever impact his career in a negative way. he kept a respectful distance between him and his co-stars, easily evaded intrusive questions regarding his romantic life and just did everything possible to avoid scandals.
it was never enough, seemingly.
he’d like to blame it all on kaveh, but really, it was mostly your fault.
after another tiring, early shoot, he caught his friend chatting away with an unfamiliar person. and although he didn’t really care about socializing, he could hardly escape the both of you when you signaled him to approach. so, with a sigh, he made his way towards and you both introduced yourselves.
“i got coffee,” you told the two men, watching them perk up.
it only took your manager tapping on your shoulder for you to startle and spill the scalding hot liquid all over haitham’s shirt. after much insistence, and seeing how apologetic you looked, he handed you over the dirty clothing while you promised to bring it back in a pristine condition.
you never imagined such a small incident would impact your modelling career on a large scale.
truth be told, you were a bit to blame for the lack of precaution you took, despite being so painfully aware of paparazzis following the both of you. sure, you visited him in the middle of the night to hand him back his clothes. and sure, you may have overstayed your welcome, slipping inside his apartment after he’d offered you a glass of water. and maybe you shouldn’t have stayed there for a few more hours, not noticing the time slip by as you both chatted away.
you surprisingly got along pretty well, despite the terrible first impression he had of you.
the next day, you were the talk of the nation. several tabloids and social media posts showing pictures of you going into his residence, scandalous captions discussing how you hadn’t come out for several hours.
so, of course, the only way to appease the morbid curiosity of both your fans was to confirm the dating rumors.
at least, according to your managers. they didn’t give you much of a choice, posting announcements and leaving you both staring at each other blankly.
it was a simple arrangement. fake date for a few months and break up because your schedules go too busy.
haitham knew it couldn’t be too hard. his whole career revolved around acting, he could easily fool everyone that you two were madly in love with each other without it affecting his personal life.
and haitham was a rational man. he knew that.
he had absolutely no valid reason as to why he was glaring from the other side of the room, nose scrunching in disgust as your coworker’s hand slid down your arm and wrapped around your waist. you followed the photographer’s instructions, the both of you executing pose and after pose under his loud praise and encouragement.
as the perfect boyfriend he was (fake, of course), haitham had come to visit you with a well deserved ice cold drink. the thought of having to reign himself in and avoid making the cup explode in his hand never crossed his mind while he was in line at the coffee shop earlier.
he was the perfect picture of control, leaning against a wall while his eyes never left you, a few staff members gawking at him. thankfully for him, none of them seemed to notice the murderous intentions behind his eyes and the way he glared at the man leaning way too close to your face.
the very sight made him want to puke his guts on the floor.
and while nothing slipped through his permanently stoic facade, you had no trouble reading through him. you pecked his cheek as you grabbed the drink he brought you, a small huff of laughter escaping you as he just wouldn’t relax his face.
gently, you traced the slope of his nose, caressing the little wrinkles forming between his furrowed brows. “you look upset,” you remarked calmly.
haitham scoffed. “he looked stupid next to you.”
his words made you snort. so much emotions for someone claiming that this was purely contractual. in the months you’d pretended to be a loving couple, he’d always kept a distance between the both of you in private. yet the walls he’d built around himself were beginning to crack and crumble.
not that you didn’t like it. it was simply amusing to watch him try and fail to rationalize the current situation.
“oh, i’m sure you’d make a better fit,” you giggled, leaning on the wall beside him.
you pretended to not notice his insistent gaze above you, ignored the little sparks of hope burning away in your mind. when your coworker waved at you from the other side of the room, haitham placed himself in front of you before you could smile back.
your eyebrows shot up, a playful smile pulling at your lips. “are you jealous, or something?”
you noted the way he frowned again, confusion morphing his face, his mouth opening and closing a few times. haitham sighed, resigned.
“as if.”
his curt response made you laugh aloud, drawing attention from the busy staff around you. none of them stopped him when he gripped your wrist and dragged you away, your laughter muffled by the door he closed behind him and his lips crashing against yours.
scaramouche stared at his manager like he grew a second head.
“hell no.”
“hell yes,” heizou insisted.
there was no way his star actor would refuse such an offer. yet no arguments seemed to make him budge, looking at the red-head with nothing but disgust plastered on his face. the fact that he already convinced him to play in a romance was a miracle to begin with. but heizou really needed a second one right now, if scaramouche would just be merciful enough.
while he was known on a global scale, no thanks to his incredible talent and his mother’s connections, you had only gotten into the acting scene a few years ago.
and a dating scandal between two leads of a romance movie was bound to not only attract a bigger audience, but also get you under the limelight.
unfortunately for scaramouche, it was working before anyone made it official. stupid tabloids about how lovely and oddly attentive he seemed to be with you behind the scenes were already emerging. clips of him wrapping his jacket around your shoulders during late shoots circulated quickly on the internet. the way he peered at you in concern when you sneezed far too many times in a row having people questioning his relationship to you.
and those dumb edits with even dumber songs. can a man not worry about his coworker anymore?
“you never worry about coworkers,” heizou deadpanned at his complaint.
and so, scaramouche surrendered to his fate.
the announcement dropped like a bomb above everyone’s heads, your socials exploding with a sudden overflow in followers, comments and intrusive questions filling up your private messages. although you trusted your manager’s plans, you never imagined it’d work in such a short time. part of you was afraid that your fake relationship would only attract negative attention and an overwhelming amount of scaramouche’s – sort of obsessive – fans banging at your door with pitchforks and murderous intents.
instead, they thought it was hilarious.
and maybe you agreed a little. you had to suppress a laugh at the almost robotic way in which he approached you, extending his arm for you to take to walk down the red carpet. the premiere was taking place today and it was only customary for the lead actors to be present today.
you could already picture thousands of comments mentioning how stiff scaramouche looked beside you, standing before hundreds of flashing lights. his hand was hovering over your waist, his spine so straight and his smile so forced. it was a bit ridiculous, given the fact that you two kissed at least a dozen times before your director was satisfied with the result.
it seemed like scaramouche’s professionalism didn’t follow him outside the set.
you turned sideways, peering at him. “you look awkward, y’know,” you muttered through a smile.
his head whipped towards you and you could see him fighting back the urge to frown.
“yeah, it’s because this is awkward," he retorted, his lips quirking downwards.
you couldn’t help but huff out a laugh. he was oddly endearing for someone so known for being bossy and rude. your hands went up to his collar, carefully adjusting the slightly crooked fabric. you didn’t think he could get any stiffer than this and yet. as your fingers brushed the skin of his neck, you noted how he’d gone completely still, the apples of his cheeks turning redder by the second.
scaramouche could barely look at you, the slight contact of your skin against his making embarrassment crawl down his spine, so painfully aware of the public setting you were in. and the photographs immortalizing the, possibly, most mortifying moment of his acting career. he couldn’t bring himself to look at you, eyes fixated on the large crowd of paparazzis in front of him.
you hummed, guiding his hand to rest properly on the curve of your waist. his throat bobbed, nerves eating at him. your laughter reaching his ears sounded like a death sentence to him.
“you’re not a very good actor,” you giggled.
that seemed to offend him more than anything else today. more than heizou, who was standing behind the crowd of paparazzis, capturing the moment on his phone like a proud mother, ever did.
scaramouche turned towards you, a pout pulling at his lips. “i have four oscars,” he protested, almost petulant.
the sight made you bring a hand up to your mouth, hardly stifling your giggles. scaramouche frowned, his face turning into an even darker shade of red. you didn’t have the brain cells to even wonder how he even managed that, unable to contain your laughter any longer.
his hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist, pulling you along with him and away from the blinding flashes. and you followed straight behind, grinning and waving at the paparazzis.
you never expected your peaceful days of modelling and travelling around the globe to be so rudely disrupted by a man, of all things. then again, you should have seen that coming.
no amount of softening your speech and keeping your feelings inside was going to save your doomed relationship. and although it’s been months since your messy breakup happened, dozens of headlines still followed you around, claiming and lying about your mental state.
“he tried to ruin my career!” you whined to no one in particular, throwing your phone across the room. “why would i miss him!?”
and maybe you were paranoid but you were almost sure he was the very reason behind why paparazzis and interviewers still bothered to ask you about him. with him being the rich heir of the most influential company in mondstat, it wouldn’t be surprising for you to discover his bribing.
while you didn’t have the power to turn the tables on him, you sure did have enough pettiness in you to hit where it hurts.
and yeah, sure, getting with your ex’s favorite athlete might be a bad look. and maybe dating his favorite boxer made it seem like you were the bitter one. but it wasn’t like you had the time to care, really, far too busy entertaining the media and your fans with more lies than you could count.
you didn’t know why varka even agreed to fake a relationship with you, and you didn’t care to know. all that mattered was your private messages blowing up with your ex’s rage.
strong hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you against a sturdy chest. “looks like it worked,” varka said behind you.
the corners of your lips curled up as you turned to look at him, avoiding the blinding flashes capturing this tender moment.
“told you it would,” you chuckled.
with his match starting soon, and feeling the attention on the both of you, you turned to face him fully, arms wrapping around his neck. you didn’t let your eyes linger too long on his, ignoring the little somersaults your heart did at his insistent gaze and the lack of his usual cheerfulness. your fingers raked through his unruly hair, fixing up golden strands that refused to stay in place.
it was a temporary arrangement. there was no need for you to search for a deeper meaning behind the longing swimming in his bright pools. or the quiet desperation in the way his lips pressed against yours.
and there was certainly no reason for you to feel your heart sink at the sight of his bloodied face and the fire burning in the blue of his eyes. despite trying to remind yourself that he was an exceptional boxer, nothing could stop the tears gathering at your waterline when he was crowned, yet again, victor, bruises and cuts all over his proud expression.
you couldn’t bring yourself to talk to him as he drove you home. varka didn’t say a word either, teeth pulling at his split lip. he didn’t think you’d care this much about the injuries he’d sustain in his matches when you first presented him with the setup. and he always tried his best to not overwhelm you with feelings that went beyond the limits set by the contract.
yet varka, in the past few months, has discovered that he never had the strength to refuse you anything. so he didn’t protest when you pulled him into your apartment and sat him down on the edge of your bathtub. nor when you pressed a little too harshly on his cuts and when you didn’t bother being gentle while applying ointment to his bruises. he didn’t have it in him to crack a joke when you threw towels at him and practically slammed the door behind you.
he’d also realized that it took so little for you to melt into his large hands. so when you walked past him, his fingers gently grabbed your wrist, pulling you into a warm embrace.
“i’m sorry,” he muttered, lips pressing against your forehead.
stubborn, you didn’t ease your frown, burying your face into the crook of his neck. you burrowed yourself in his lap, his arms wrapping around your form, rocking the both of you forward.
“shut up.”
a small smile played on his lips, his cheek pressing against the top of your head. despite the harshness of your words, you refused to let go of him, any attempt of his at moving rendered useless when you dug your nails into his forearms. with a laugh, varka guessed that it wouldn’t hurt to spend the night on your couch, with you clinging to him.
when the first rays of the sun pulled you out of your slumber, none of you addressed what had occurred.
it was necessary, you tried reasoning with yourself.
obviously, it wouldn’t make sense that two renowned actors, who were dating nonetheless, would appear so stiff while kissing on camera. it would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?
maybe not as ridiculous as your current predicament. as if sensing some hesitation from your side, kazuha tilted your chin so you’d look at him.
“we don’t have to,” he told you, his tone far too sweet for you to handle.
he wasn’t completely wrong. the arrangement your managers had put you in was fairly recent. if anything, it would only endear the crew to see the both of you shy away from such displays of affection.
you’d barely registered the reason why yoimiya was so adamant on making you fake a relationship with kazuha. the only thing you’d processed was his name and the fact that he was going to pretend to be your boyfriend for a few months.
the very actor you’d set your eyes on since the beginning of your career – and even before then. the same one you’d admired for years and years. the one you were filming a show with, playing as each other’s love interests while the wide public was hit with the news of your supposed relationship.
you hardly believed the situation you somehow ended up in until today. you wondered if he had to go through the same mental gymnastics you did before showing up at your doorstep. you couldn’t help but hope that maybe, just maybe, him revealing the reason behind his presence as wanting to practice your lines together was but an excuse.
after all, you were under no obligation to play pretend behind closed doors. yet his attempt at easing your nerves only alarmed you.
“no, it’s fine!” you blurted out.
when kazuha chuckled at your eagerness, you slapped a hand over your mouth, deflating like a balloon. you felt a bit stupid, so easily baring your feelings to him unprompted. sure, it wasn’t a direct confession. but kazuha wasn’t dumb enough to miss the meaning behind enthusiasm. you hid behind your hands, the AC not helping the state of your burning cheeks.
you felt the mattress dip beside you, gentle fingers wrapping around your wrist and prying your hands off of your face. “don’t hide,” kazuha whispered.
he was so insistent on your eyes meeting his, peering and searching for your gaze until you relented. the softness of his smile felt like a dozen arrows were shot straight through your heart. just as gentle, his fingers trailed up your arm, leaving sparks in their wake, tracing the column of your neck, cupping your jaw.
kazuha inched closer to you until you felt his leg press against yours. “i’ll kiss you now, okay?”
your eyes were screwed shut, your entire being nearly vibrating with nerves and anticipation, fists clenching on your lap. maybe it was a good idea to practice before your shoot tomorrow, given your predicament.
kazuha didn’t close the distance immediately, a fond smile drawn on his features at the sight of you. you looked just so nervous that a little, cruel part of him wanted to toy with your current state. his hand rested on one of your fists, thumb caressing soothing circles on your skin until you allowed his fingers to interlink with yours.
a beat passed. a quiet moment in which your ears couldn’t perceive anything beside the erratic beating of your heart.
hot puffs of air fanned over your lips. before you could stop yourself, you flinched away from the sensation, wide eyed. a moment passed by as you simmered in your own mortification before you muttered a quiet apology, looking down at your lap. you couldn’t help but feel a bit irritated at yourself.
“it’s okay”, kazuha chuckled, his knuckle caressing the burning skin of your face. “relax for me, yeah?”
you didn’t bother complaining about how his presence was anything but relaxing. it felt like every hair on your body was standing straight just from the proximity. any and every contact of his skin against yours lit a fire within the pit of your stomach, flames growing and licking at the little frustration you felt.
when kazuha leaned in again, he didn’t linger too long on the cute look on your face.
his lips were as sweet as he was, you thought, sitting straight and unmoving for a few seconds. when he moved them against yours, you felt like putty in his hands, pliant and so quick to follow the pace he set. your fingers gripped at the fabric of his shirt, nails digging into his shoulders when his tongue traced your bottom lip.
your mouth parted instantly, the small noise of surprise you made quickly swallowed by kazuha. his hand slipped to your nape, angling your head in a way that let him lick into your mouth. you pulled away for a second, your mind spiraling at the suddenness of his actions.
“don’t do that,” kazuha tutted playfully.
you felt your mouth dry up when your eyes met his half-lidded ones, the ruby shade of them barely visible through his dilated pupils. you wouldn’t be too shocked if they suddenly turned into hearts.
and he was so mean, pushing his lips against yours and swallowing your protests and shy mutters, claiming that you could do so much better for him. you didn’t have it in you to deny him or disprove his words, growing dizzier and dizzier with every lungful of air he stole from you.
so light-headed that you’d forgotten the reason behind his hunger.
you collapsed onto your hotel bed. every muscle of your body was screeching in pain, sore and exhausted with all the running and fighting you’d done today. the steaming, hot shower you’d taken did nothing to soothe the ache, nor did any of the stretches you quickly looked up.
with a sigh, you surrendered to your fate, burying yourself in the covers of your bed.
your loving manager, nefer, had deemed that you’ve done enough romance shows and movies for a lifetime. and of course, what better way to change the trajectory of your acting career than by having you play in an apocalyptic show. really, she could have had you participate in a survival reality show and you wouldn’t have noticed the difference.
the only thing that helped you pull through was flins playing a role alongside you. despite the contractual nature of your relationship, there was no helping your traitorous heart and its inability to not fall even deeper for him. the arrangement was set purely to draw attention to the show. yet, with every day that passed and with its end nearing, you couldn’t help but hope that, perhaps, flins wouldn’t want this to be over.
you rolled around in your bed, trying and failing to ignore the restless state of your mind.
but there was no logical explanation behind his endless flirtations and tender attentions. you hoped that there was a meaning behind the hands around your waist when no one was present to witness them. that you didn’t imagine the small flickers of affection in the depths of his hypnotizing eyes. there had to be a reason as to why he was so adamant on kissing your knuckles as a greeting, right?
the sky roared, making you sit straight on the mattress.
you could nearly feel the building shake with the intensity of the thunder, raindrops close to breaking the windows.
just your luck.
for a split moment, you stared into the darkness of your room, refusing to look at the bright flashes of light slipping through the glass. you contemplated staying up and falling asleep until the storm passed. maybe watch a show to take your mind off of it until your exhaustion would get the best of you.
another deep, rolling rumble made you scramble towards your bedside table, turning on the dim light.
you felt a bit stupid, getting so spooked by something so normal. but you were so wide awake at the moment, arms crushing your poor stuffed bunny. and you were so hyperaware of every little noise, all the alarms in your brain going haywire when you heard a rattle from your door.
you stared at the wooden surface for a long moment, hoping that whoever was behind it would just leave you alone. better yet, that you simply imagined the sound.
all those thoughts flew out of your mind when a familiar voice called out your name. “it’s just me,” flins added, raising his hand to knock again.
before he could do so, you opened the door, looking at him through a small crack. your lips jutted out into a pout as flins smiled down at you, taking in the messy state of your hair and the plushie glued to your chest.
“thought you’d be scared,” he told you.
something in your chest melted into a pathetic puddle at his words. of course he would think so. despite all his teasing and playfulness, flins was so terribly attentive it made you want to pull out your hair. instead, you opened the door wider, letting him slip inside. you noticed how he’d braided his hair and the near translucent paleness of his skin. his eye bags looked even more pronounced, you thought, guilt twisting your guts.
he probably sacrificed his well-deserved rest just to check on you.
“i couldn’t sleep either.”
you blinked at him, any remorse you’d felt evaporating instantly. “you’re not good at lying,” you deadpanned, locking the door behind you.
flins only laughed at your words. he took a seat on the edge of your bed, eyes crinkling, small sparks of joy animating his gaze. you looked away, feeling your heart take on a faster pace. yet when his hand urged you closer, you followed through almost immediately, wishing that he wouldn’t feel the erratic pace of your heart as his thumb caressed the skin above your pulse.
“do you want me to stay?” flins asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
his lips traced the inside of your wrist, awaiting an answer you couldn’t provide. when you only gave him a nod, he nipped at the sensitive skin, eliciting a hiss from you. “hm?” he pressed.
your eyebrows furrowed, frustration painting your features.
“i do,” you muttered, looking down at the way you shifted on your feet.
a small huff of laughter tumbled out of flins’s lips. you never looked sweeter to him, he thought, pulling on your wrist and into his embrace. you burrowed yourself into his chest, the both of you buried into the covers. you were deaf to the distant rumbles, ear pressed against his wildly beating heart, eyes widening in disbelief.
you didn’t dare say anything that would disturb the peacefulness of this moment. when he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, you tried your best to succumb to the fatigue you felt earlier.
and so, the both of you laid there sleeplessly, praying you’d find a way to extend the contract. at least, until either of you found the courage to put a word on your feelings. or three.
summary: long story short, you unfortunately ended up under Lohen’s desk when Mika and Gunther surprised the two of you in a rather intimate moment. but hey, every cloud has a silver lining — and you know exactly how to keep yourself entertained down there.
tags: blowjob, lohen gets brat-tamed!! kinda comedy too
this is a commission for Narixia! thank you so much for trusting me! <3 since you were my very first client and, unfortunately, the fic got delayed because of some complications, you got an extra 2k words as a little bonus. and honestly, it was such a pleasure to write — i had so much fun with this one!! <3
You really had only wanted to make Lohen happy.
Just… not like this.
“L-Lohen,” you muttered, tugging at his hair as he kissed his way across your chest and collarbones, his hands wrapped firmly around your waist.
From the corner of your eye, you could still see that damned little lunch basket — the one you had prepared especially for him and brought all the way to his office, where he was apparently forbidden from leaving for the entire day as punishment for yet another violation of regulations.
He had been so grateful that he immediately sat you down on his desk and, instead of digging into all the food you had made for him, decided — as he so proudly put it — to “start with dessert.”
…And normally, you really wouldn’t have minded any of this — if it weren’t for where you were right now.
Lohen had unbuttoned your shirt so hastily that you barely had time to react before he was already all over you, while you trembled beneath his touch and tried desperately to talk some sense into him.
You swallowed hard. “Lohen, stop. Someone could walk in any second.”
“So what, bun?” Lohen murmured against your neck, his fingers tightening against your skin. A shiver ran through you when he finally slipped the shirt completely off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.
A moment later, you heard the soft clink of his belt.
“Doesn’t that turn you on even a little?” he asked with a wicked smile, one hand sliding down to your thigh before slipping beneath the fabric, his fingers brushing teasingly over your underwear.
Of course your panties were already soaked.
You grabbed his wrist sharply and pulled his hand away from between your thighs, forcing yourself to meet his eyes.
That was a mistake.
No matter how badly you wanted to stop this before it went any further, it already felt too late. Lohen was looking at you with that same intense, hungry stare he always did — desperate and needy, yet somehow unbearably arrogant at the same time, as though you already belonged to him.
Your thighs pressed together on instinct.
And, again, of course, he noticed.
A quiet laugh slipped from him, and he was already opening his mouth to tease you about it when his attention suddenly snapped toward the door.
His expression changed at once.
“Mika and Gunther are coming this way.”
He stepped back to give you some space, and you immediately dropped to the floor in a panic, scrambling to find the clothes you had lost somewhere along the way.
Lohen laughed at the sight of your trembling hands, and just as you finally managed to grab what you were looking for, someone knocked on the door.
You cursed under your breath and ducked beneath the desk.
Lohen, meanwhile, looked far too delighted by the entire situation. He calmly sat down in his chair and scooted in as close as he possibly could, clearly just to make things harder for you.
Good thing you weren’t claustrophobic, because the space between the desk and Lohen’s legs was so cramped you could barely fit.
You deliberately smacked him in the ankle.
Naturally, he only chuckled.
Then, as much as the tight space allowed, you shifted into a slightly less miserable position and rested your forehead against his knee, desperate for even the smallest bit of comfort.
“You’d better be quiet now, bun. You don’t want everyone calling you the vice-captain’s desk pet if they find out you’re here, do you?”
Fuck, the nerve of this man…
You jerked your head up so quickly you nearly smacked it against the underside of the desk, ready to bite back at him — but before you could get a single word out, Mika and Gunther walked into the room.
Lohen leaned back even more comfortably in his chair, which only forced you to press yourself tighter against his legs.
You were genuinely considering biting him in the calf just to teach him a lesson.
“Good morning, Vice-Captain… I-I’m here to submit a report,” Gunther managed, clearing his throat as the papers in his hands rustled nervously.
“Mhm. Couldn’t you have brought it a little later?” Lohen yawned, clearly displeased by the interruption. Then his gaze shifted. “And what are you doing here, Mika?”
You couldn’t see what was happening above the desk — only the silence that followed.
Gunther and Mika had apparently looked at each other at the exact same moment.
A few seconds passed before Mika finally spoke.
“…I’m here to make sure you don’t dismiss him and dump your work on him instead. Grand Master’s orders.”
You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing.
Lohen, unfortunately, found the whole thing just as amusing — and unlike you, he actually had the freedom to let out a quiet chuckle.
That was also when it hit you that you really shouldn’t be laughing at all.
If Gunther was here to give his report, then that meant you were going to be stuck under your troublesome Lohen’s desk for quite a while longer.
You sighed inwardly and stared ahead, resigned to your fate, when your eyes suddenly landed on something. Lohen’s belt was still undone.
A thought crossed your mind. A sweet little smile slowly spread across your face.
Above you, Lohen braced one hand heavily against the desk, looking between Gunther and Mika with an expectant expression.
“So?”
Gunther glanced at Mika, who offered him a nervous but encouraging smile. Finally, he straightened his posture and cleared his throat again.
“S-so, starting with…”
Lohen lowered his gaze to the document in front of him, completely tuning Gunther out as he picked up his pen and started doodling some meaningless nonsense in the margins, mostly just to make the time pass a little faster.
Then Mika spoke up.
“Ahem, Sir Lohen,” he began carefully. “The Grand Master also said that you have to… rewrite Gunther’s entire report yourself. Your… your signature won’t be enough this time. Just to make sure you actually read it.”
Lohen heard the barely suppressed laugh from between his legs. His eyelid twitched.
Maybe he could have survived this if you hadn’t been there to hear it. Then it would have stayed between him, Mika, Gunther, and Varka.
But with you under his desk listening to every word?
It made him sound like some unruly schoolboy stuck in detention, being forced to copy lines because he couldn’t behave. An absolutely catastrophic loss of aura in front of the one person who was already far too easy to provoke — and who would, without a doubt, bring this up again.
And again. And again.
Lohen was already preparing to snap something back, refuse outright, or simply get up and challenge Varka to a duel when he suddenly felt you tugging at his trousers.
His brows knitted slightly.
Then his entire expression changed when your hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers and wrapped around his now-soft cock. Before those two had walked in, he had been perfectly ready for you — but apparently seeing Mika and Gunther’s faces had been enough to kill that enthusiasm almost instantly.
He couldn’t make any sudden movement to pull you away, either. That would raise questions. Lohen swallowed.
His mouth twisted into a smile that, to Gunther and Mika, probably looked dangerously close to a warning. Though with Varka’s orders protecting them, neither of them seemed particularly concerned.
Then he felt your mouth close around him. Every muscle in his body went rigid.
“Of course,” Lohen replied, his voice strained beneath an almost painfully polite tone, clearly hoping they would finish this conversation as quickly as possible.
The knights frowned, clearly caught off guard by his sudden change in behavior, but one look at their faces made it obvious neither of them was willing to test the Vice-Captain’s patience — or whatever mercy he had left. So Gunther simply started his recitation over from the beginning.
Lohen straightened in his chair, pretending he was only adjusting his posture to write more comfortably.
Then he exhaled slowly and moved the hand he had been leaning on to the edge of the desk, gripping it tightly instead. His other hand continued scratching irritated lines across the paper as he desperately tried not to think about how much he would have loved this situation if their positions were reversed.
Or, at the very least, if he had been the one to initiate it.
Taking advantage of the fact that Lohen was only beginning to harden again, you slowly worked your mouth along his length, circling your tongue around him as you went. You could feel him swelling against you, and somehow that only made the whole thing more exciting.
Mika and Gunther had already managed to humiliate him in front of you without even realizing it. You had simply decided to finish the job.
Oh, you always did your very best to please him — but this time, the thrill of it all had you enjoying yourself even more than usual.
Your hands stroked over his knees as you bobbed your head in an uneven rhythm, his cock already fully hard. At the same time, you had to make sure not to let a single sound escape you — but unlike Lohen, that wasn’t exactly difficult for you.
Mostly because Lohen loved being loud. Whenever you had sex, he moaned as if he were the one getting fucked. You’d never really stopped to wonder whether he simply had no shame or just saw absolutely no reason to hold himself back. Right now, though, it didn’t matter. Sneaking a glance at him through the narrow gap between the desk and his stomach, you could see his face growing red as he bit down hard on his lip.
Completely ignoring whatever the fuck Gunther was muttering under his breath, you took your sweet time pleasuring him, perfectly aware of all his weak spots — like just how sensitive the head of Lohen’s cock was.
“…Uh, Vice-Captain, are you feeling okay? Should I… open a window? You look very…”
You pulled his cock from your throat and wrapped your hand around it instead, running your tongue teasingly over the tip, licking at it as though you were savoring the last traces of some delicious dessert from your plate.
“No.” Lohen answered immediately, far too sharply. He cleared his throat weakly and quickly corrected himself. “No. No need. Continue—”
Lohen bit his lip hard enough to draw blood when you suddenly sucked on the tip. A moan nearly slipped from his mouth, making Mika frown at him in concern, but Gunther was far too nervous to comment on anything. He simply went back to reading while Lohen tangled a hand in his own hair, trying to calm himself down even a little. He also forced himself to relax his posture, sprawling back in his chair with an air of practiced nonchalance.
It wasn’t as though he had weak willpower. Of course he could endure it. Of course he was perfectly composed and calm. He was just a little irritated, and—
Blood trickled down his chin as his teeth dug even harder into his lip at the exact moment you took his entire cock into your throat.
“S-Sir Lohen…!” Mika panicked. “D-Do you need a napkin?”
A few scarlet drops splattered across his documents, and he cursed under his breath. He felt you suck harder around him.
“F-Fu— N-No, it’s fine. Can we just—” He swallowed hard as he felt his thighs begin to tremble. Fuck, you had never sucked him off this well in his entire life. You had always been good at it, sure, but right now you were completely outdoing yourself. “…Ignore that and continue. P-please?”
Please?
You knew perfectly well that it wasn't directed at Mika or Gunther at all.
It was meant for you.
His cock had already twitched more than once because, despite everything, Lohen’s masochistic nature was reveling in the situation. Being humiliated — whether in a fight or in bed — by an opponent who knew exactly how to exploit their advantage gave him an almost obscene amount of pleasure.
It was the unpredictability that turned him on so much. The loss of control. The thrill of being pushed past what he thought he could handle, never quite sure where his limit was until someone else dragged him straight through it — even if it meant ending up utterly wrecked by the end.
All for the love of the game, right?
But of course, Mika and Gunther had no way of knowing that. Thoroughly alarmed by the Vice-Captain’s strange behavior — his flushed face, labored breathing, trembling hand, and the blood smeared across his chin — they immediately obeyed his request.
Maybe Varka hadn’t been lying after all when he told them Lohen got sick whenever he had to deal with paperwork…
Encouraged to keep going, you quickened your pace, risking choking yourself in the process — but who cared about getting caught anymore? Not when Lohen was like this: weak, trembling, completely at your mercy, his hips retreating from you for the first time in all your encounters instead of pushing insistently closer. You wanted to suck every last drop out of him.
Without slowing down, you kept going. Saliva ran down your chin, your fingers ached from gripping him too tightly, and your throat constricted in warning, threatening to make you gag — but none of that mattered. You wanted to break him, so you sucked and licked at him relentlessly, bobbing your head with renewed vigor.
And you were close to doing exactly that. Lohen moved his hand from his hair to his mouth in a desperate attempt to compose himself, pretending to cough when, in reality, he was simply trying not to moan like a whore.
“…And that’s all, Vice-Captain. Do you need me to repeat anything, in case you missed—”
“Absolutely… not!—” Lohen abruptly dropped his hand from his face and slammed it down onto the desk, making everyone in the room jump in surprise, though no one dared interrupt him. He could feel himself getting dangerously close. “Take this to the G-Grandmaster and… go. Now.”
Gunther swallowed hard and approached his superior’s desk to retrieve the completed document. Admittedly, it looked absolutely pathetic — the handwriting was practically illegible, and there was blood smeared across the page on top of that, but—
“I said go. Now.”
He jumped at the sound of Lohen’s voice again, utterly terrified as he watched him brace himself heavily against the desk with both hands. He couldn’t see Lohen’s face, but he could have sworn he faintly heard him panting. He bowed, thanked him, and then practically bolted for the exit with Mika. The moment the door slammed shut behind them, Lohen let out a loud, utterly pathetic gasp — so strained it was almost a whimper.
His hips jerked forward on instinct, slamming into your throat and pressing his balls flush against your lips. He came at the very same moment, the tip buried deep as cum flooded your mouth and made you choke. You tried to pull back, but Lohen immediately caught the movement; his hand finally tangled in your hair and forced you even tighter against his crotch as a furious, breathless laugh tore from his throat.
He looked down at you with something almost crazed in his eyes, taking in your tear-filled yet unmistakably satisfied expression. You had the exact same look he always wore whenever he was the one tormenting you.
Like a fucking brat.
“H-huh, bun, I didn’t f-fucking know you had that in you,” Lohen started, licking his lips as his gaze darkened, which made you only smile wider, even if tears drooled on your cheeks from pain in throat.
His expression twitched and laughed under his breath. “Yeah. Enjoy it while you can. It won’t last long, brat.”
i even made meme i'm sorry i thought it's funny...................... and i think i need to stop bully gunther in my fics............
cw: smut WITH LOTS OF FEELINGS, virgin Kinich, fem!reader, oral (f receiving), mild size kink, fluff, hurt/comfort, mentioned child abuse and neglect (Kinich), canon-related content warnings apply
a/n: This is a sequel to Ayni Bakery! Please read that first because a lot of this will not make sense without context.
Ayni Bakery has been doing well.
Better than well, really. You tell Kinich that profits are at an all-time high, giving you the ability to invest in new ingredients and recipes and donate extra products more regularly. Kinich has found himself helping out with your donation days more often than not and it has quickly become another part of his growing routine.
Aside from his morning bread orders, those are the only times he has a chance to have extended conversations with you. He enjoys your playful banter and casual retellings of your day. He enjoys the way you've grown more comfortable with his presence and are willing to share little pieces of your personal life no one else gets to hear.
Kinich shares his own stories, as well. At first it was the easy topics: the most expensive job he's ever been hired for, his favorite cliffs to dive from, Ajaw's most annoying habits.
Then, over time, he began to share the more difficult topics too: the heavy expectations that come with being Malipo, his last memories of his mother, what it felt like to die.
You had listened to it all, never giving him pitying looks or offering empty phrases of condolence like the few others he had shared his past with did. You simply noddled along quietly, offering small smiles of assurance when his voice became strangled around certain words. You never asked for more detail than he was willing to give and, for that, he is eternally thankful. Having someone to trust with his most painful memories meant more to him than he could ever hope to repay you for.
Tonight, Kinich is trudging home after a particularly long commission. The pay had been worth it but the hours of travelling followed by intense fighting had taken a toll on both him and Ajaw, the latter opting to rest in his own realm instead of yapping Kinich’s ear off for once—that alone may be a better payment than the mora.
The green canopy of your modest bakery is a familiar sight on his route home but the bright lanterns at this late hour give him pause. No other shops in the market show any sign of activity, nearly every Huitztlan having surely retired to their own tents by now. The realization immediately fills him with a sense of dread as he is forced to ask himself why you would be at the bakery this late. The only explanation is the memory of that day you fell asleep, the day he learned of how close you were to being forced to close the shop.
Had you been lying to him about the state of your business?
His imagination runs wild as he visualizes your exhausted form hunched over the counter, heavy lids struggling to remain open on the extended hours of your shift just to make a few extra mora. Or worse, you curled up on the floor surrounded by piles and piles over overdue bills, stressed and quietly crying all by yourself—
Kinich steps into the bakery without hesitation.
To his relief, you are neither sleeping nor sobbing and there is not an overdue bill in sight. Instead, you are happily humming to yourself, setting a metal tray full of fluffy brown cakes onto the counter. The sweet scent of chocolate wafts over him just as you look up.
“Kinich,” you greet cheerfully.
He tries very hard not to focus on how quickly his heart races at your voice.
“Perfect timing, I just finished a new recipe I need someone to test out. You like grainfruit, right?”
Kinich pauses, just the name alone conjuring up a sickening aftertaste in his mouth. He absolutely does not like grainfruit. But—his eyes linger on the sweet curve of your lips—he doesn’t want to disappoint you. You are relying on him to test your new recipe so maybe he can suck it up just this once and—
“Just kidding,” you singsong before bursting into a fit of laughter. “You should have seen your face—ahaha—no worries, Malipo, no grainfruit here!”
His shoulders relax from a tension he did not realize he was carrying and a smile tugs at his own lips as you come over with a cake on a porcelain plate.
“This is Volcano Cake. It is quite challenging to make since the inside and outside have to be completely different consistencies at the same temperature, but I think it will be quite popular in the cooler months—well, assuming it actually tastes good of course.”
You stab into the cake with a small fork, tearing a piece apart to reveal a molten chocolate center that immediately begins to overflow and drip down the sides in distinct tracks like lava.
His eyes follow the piece of cake at the end of your fork until it stops, hovering just centimeters from his lips. When he looks up he is met with your expectant gaze, face close enough to count your lashes. Close enough to lean forward and—
His breath hitches.
Without breaking eye contact, Kinich leans forward to take the bite obediently, the tip of your fork sliding between his lips.
He watches as your gaze flickers down to his lips with the movement. You stare for a moment, dazed, as he slowly chews the piece. It melts on his tongue, sweet with the distinct bitter aftertaste of cacahuati.
It is delicious. He would tell you as much but he gets the sense that neither of you are truly interested in cake at the moment. Your eyelashes momentarily flutter before you look back up. The eye contact ignites a heat deep in his gut.
“How is it?”
Your words are barely above a whisper but something in your tone feels dangerous. His fingers twitch at his sides, muscles flexing with the need for action.
You have always been like this haven’t you? Teasing him. Testing his limits. Pushing him to the very edge of a cliff and daring him to jump.
Well, Kinich has always been a thrill-seeker.
Any hopes of receiving a proper answer from him are dashed when he grabs at your elbows and pulls you in closer, uncaring of the dish that falls from your grip and clatters on the ground.
His lips pressed against yours are more hungry and desperate than sweet but you reciprocate all the same. You redirect your hands to his hair, gripping at his messy locks on just the edge of too tight but he could care less. As long as you were like this, bodies melded together so tightly he can hardly tell where he ends and you begin, nothing else matters.
It is purely by instinct that he nips at your bottom lip—but then your lips part for him and he is suddenly introduced to a new possibility. His tongue presses toward, sliding wet and hot against your own. You let out a soft sound in his mouth and he thinks he has never wanted anything as desperately as he wants you to continue making those pretty sounds for him. The head in his gut earlier has intensified, burning red hot as it urges him to do things with your body he has only imagined in moments of weakness.
Everything about you is enticing–that is something he had known since the beginning despite his best efforts to ignore it. But now the false pretexes are gone and his hands move across your soft body with an eagerness to feel everything hiding beneath the layers of clothing he had imagined removing more times than he would ever admit.
Despite your valiant attempts to return his intensity and stay upright, his strength dwarves your own so he slips his hands to the back of your thighs just under ths curve of your ass and lifts.
“Kinich—!”
Your hands fly up to grip at his shoulders for support as you’re suddenly hoisted up and pivoted to be plopped unceremoniously on top of the counter. However, any complaints you might have had are abruptly cut off as Kinich presses his mouth right back onto yours. You wrap your legs around his waist and roll your hips into his in way that has him seeing stars and an embarrassingly pitchy moan escapes his lips. You back from the kiss with a smirk but his eyes catch on the thin strand of saliva connecting your swollen lips to his own.
“You look pretty worked up,” you tease as if your own face isn’t hot to the touch and your own shoulders aren’t heaving with your labored breaths.
“I want you,” Kinich says, straight to the point as always. “Please.”
Your teasing look cracks apart into something more desperate as you quickly nod in agreement and allow him to pick you up again while you direct him towards your private room in the back of the bakery.
Clothing and accessories are discarded carelessly, tugged off in the brief moments between kisses. Without his gloves, Kinich gropes at what he can, already addicted to the soft squish of your flesh beneath his calloused hands. The swell of your breasts, the planes of your stomach, the curve of your ass—he commits himself to mapping them all without bias. He wonders at how someone can be so soft in this world filled with monsters, both human and not. But that was his duty as a hero, wasn't it? Protecting vulnerable treasures.
Kinich gently drops you onto the plush of your mattress but you quickly sit up to tug at the fabric around his hips pointedly. The thick material of his insulated jumpsuit is one of the last few pieces of clothing separating the two of you, your own dress and his black undershirt discarded somewhere between the kitchen and bed. Kinich obeys your silent request without hesitation, unbuckling the belt and pushing the layers of fabric down in one fluid move.
The moment his bare flesh is revealed you freeze, gaping at his hardened length.
Kinich pauses.
He is somewhat aware of his size, having seen his fair share of illustrative literature and visited more than a few public bath houses. He assumed himself to be average in most circumstances, at least when he doesn’t have the physical effects of a beautiful woman bare before him. Seeing himself before you now, you staring at his erection with genuine shock, he begins to second guess his previous assessments.
“Is it…” Kinich pauses to find a word, “sufficient for this task?”
His voice finally draws your gaze away from his crotch, eyes still wide as saucers.
“You’re huge, Kinich, how—” you cut yourself off abruptly and your look morphs something mischevious that already has him dreading what you might say next.
“I should have expected no less from the Great Malipo Kinich.”
Archons, not that again.
At his irritated expression you burst into a peel of giggles. The sound makes his heart throb nearly as much as his erection and Kinich decides it is entirely too overwhelming to be both horny and endeared so he settles with focusing on the former.
Kinich silently prompts you to lie down flat on your back as he busies himself with peppering soft kisses down your neck. He takes his time moving down, down, down until he reaches the curve of your bare hips. You’re squirming now, growing impatient in a way that tempts him to tease you as payback for all the times you’ve teased him–but he won’t.
Not tonight, at least.
He grips the fat of your thighs to spread your legs wide open, eyes mapping the newly revealed skin in equal measures of greed and analysis. You’re puffy and dripping, wetness smeared between your inner thighs and matting the tufts of hair around your entrance. The view is nothing short of inspirational to Kinich’s assessing gaze. His mind races with the possibilities, the many things he could do to you—most of which he hopes you would quite enjoy—but he recognized the significance of making a good impression tonight. He needs to provide exceptional service so that you will give him this privilege again and again.
His thoughts are interrupted by your attempt to squirm beneath his firm grip. You whine out a complaint about how his staring is embarrassing but Kinich tunes it out to focus. Seventy percent of one’s energy should go to investigating, he thinks. Ten percent to making a final decision, he ducks down, and the remainder for execution—
A sharp mewl escapes your lips as Kinich slides his tongue deeply between your folds, curling upwards until the tip catches against your clit. He tongues around the swollen nub, savoring the silkiness of your flesh, before diving back below to repeat the motion all over again.
When he finally releases his grip on your thighs they immediately close around the sides of his head, nearly trapping him, but he has a better use for his hands.
He uses his thumbs to pull the outer lips of your cunt open, exposing more of the slippery inner folds to his tongue. When he dips down again the tip of his tongue catches on the rim of your leaking hole, prompting your back to arch and one hand to fly to hair, gripping a fistful.
Kinich prods at the entrance, teasing it, before moving back up to instead rapidly flick his tongue against your throbbing nub. You cry out some mix of frustration and pleasure that has his lips curling into a smirk against you. He decides to show you some mercy in the form of pressing his blunt middle finger against your hole and pushing in deep. Your hips jerk in surprise but he continues to press forward, not stopping until the last knuckle. His lips close around your clit to suck at the same time he pulls his finger back before pushing it back in and setting a rhythm. If you were wet before you’re sopping now, the mix of your juices and his saliva making his movements frictionless and it isn’t long before he’s pushing his ring finger in alongside the first.
The sounds escaping you are sinful, both the breathy keens coming from your throat and the illicit squelches of your pussy. It has him leaking, cock desperate to experience the pulsating warmth wrapped around his fingers. But he ignores his body's urges to focus on pleasuring you, your heady taste on his tongue Kinich suddenly pushes a third finger in and you pull at his hair hard enough to rip out a few strands, hips bucking into him while his tongue swirls around your clit. He doesn’t relent until you’re seizing around him, walls spasming while your thighs squeeze tight against his skull and stutter out incoherent variations of his name. Kinich helps you ride through your orgasm, lapping up at the increased wetness while his fingers massage your inner walls.
When your muscles finally begin to relax he moves his fingers, pressing a final polite peck to your sensitive clit before sitting up.
The bottom half of his face is sticky with your juices—he suspects that is why you are avoiding eye contact right now–but it doesn’t deter him from leaning over to kiss you, drowning out your surprised squeak with hot presses of his mouth. He only pulls away when you are breathless, eyes half lidded and pupils blown as you gaze up at him with desire. His breath catches.
“Can I put it inside?”
You glance down briefly, his erection swollen and leaky as he patiently waits for your permission, before you let out a breathy yes.
Kinich moves quickly, slotting his hips between your thighs with one hand on the inside of your knee while the other grips at himself, guiding the tip to your entrance.
Seeing them right next to each other like this, Kinich begins to understand your previous shock. The size difference between the fat head of his cock and your tiny hole is nearly obscene. His mind betrays him with indecent thoughts, vivid images of folding you into a much more creative position. The idea of testing your body's limits makes him throb but he bookmarks those thoughts for later. Tonight is about proving himself as an adequate lover, he can make you scream another time.
Your hands fist at the sheets and you softly whine for him to hurry up already and so he does.
Kinich pushes in, blunt head pressing into your entrance and applying relentless pressure until it breaches. You gasp and he reaches up to grab one of your hands on instinct, fingers tightly interlocking as he continues to press forward. His attention flickers between watching your cute expressions twist with each centimeter and watching your cute hole being stretched open and forced to accept his cock. By the time he bottoms out your eyes are squeezed tightly shut and Kinich has to take a steady breath to calm himself down. He is certain that ejaculating immediately after entering you is within the top five worst things that could possibly happen to him right now.
Kinich leans down to pepper kisses against your cheeks and the corner of your mouth, distracting himself from the searing heat of your walls wrapped so tightly around him. You reciprocate sweetly, giggling and releasing the sheets to card your fingers through his dark hair gently. After a few moments, when he feels more composed. he leans back to adjust his hold. The hand pressing on the inside of your knee shifts to grip under it and he raises your leg a little higher so that the top of your thigh presses into the curve of your stomach. His other hand remains next to your head, pinning your hand down as you squeeze his fingers in anticipation.
When his hips begin to draw back you tighten up around him, like your body is begging him not to leave. The thought makes him a little light-headed but he manages to pull out to the tip before using his strength to thrust back to the hilt. You cry out his name and the sound sends goosebumps down his arms. He falters for a moment before repeating the motion, pulling out only to thrust back in, beginning to seat a steady pace punctuated by your stuttered moans and his own soft grunts.
Your pleased sounds, the searing warmth of you sucking him in on every movement, the sticky plap, plap, plap of his hips meeting yours—it is nearly overwhelming every one of his senses. It makes his heart race faster than standing at the peak of any towering cliffs or facing any pack of snarling saurians at close combat ever has. The sensations are completely foreign yet the primality of it activates the instincts he didn't know he had. The need to please you drives him to tilt his hips to catch on a part inside of you that makes you moan fuck, r-right there and squeeze around him so deliciously that he does it again and again and again—
“T-talk to me,” you gasp against his ear.
The request completely throws him off and his movements come to an abrupt halt while his brain scrambles to focus on anything that isn’t how good you feel long enough to decode what you just said.
“...about what?”
There is a brief pause before you are suddenly bursting into laughter and Kinich feels his face heat up. You laughing in his face might also be in the top five worst things to be happening right now. Luckily, the toothy grin you shoot him is cute enough to distract him from his sudden desire to jump off a cliff.
“I mean like,” you explain between giggles, “tell me how you feel. I want to hear you feel good."
The innocence of your words makes his chest throb again and he silently nods before resuming his previous rhythm.
He considers the request in earnest. Kinich has never been much of a talker but—you release a sharp cry when he accidentally hits a particularly sensitive spot inside of you and his stomach clenches—he certainly understood the appeal of a partner's voice. And he if it is something that will please you, Kinich will do anything.
He swallows thickly.
“You feel good,” he murmurs hesitantly, “very tight.”
He thrusts in with a particularly loud squelch. “—and wet.”
They are simply observations but the way you react, whimpering while your walls squeezing around him so tightly he can barely move--you must like it. He lets go of your hand and readjusts his position to drive more force behind every thrusts and the salacious cry that escapes you makes his hips stutter. His control is rapidly slipping and he ducks down to kiss you in a feeble attempt to ground himself. Your arms wrap around his sturdy shoulders, chests sliding against each other as he continues to lose himself to an animalistic pace inside of you.
“I want to do this… all the t-time,” he confesses hotly into your mouth. You moan your approval, drool escaping the sides of your lips as you press up into him.
“I want to—ah—make you f-feel good and…” his hands are gripping the sheets next to your head so tight his knuckles turn white, arms lightly trembling with strain as he relentlessly slams his hips against your own.
“Want to c-come home—fuck—have you spread out like this e-every night…f'me…only me—"
“Me too,” you gasp against his ear sweetly, hugging him close as he ruins you, “K-Kinich—ahh—I...I like you so much!”
The coil in his gut snaps and he releases inside of you with a strangled sound. He has just enough cognizance to slip one hand down and rub against the bundle of nerves above your entrance, desperate for you to finish with him and you do. You cum on his cock with an unrestrained moan of his name that he will undoubtedly be replaying in his head over and over for the rest of his life.
The minutes following are calm. His ears are still slightly ringing but his pounding heartbeat has finally begun to slow down when he finally gathers the mental strength to lift himself off of you. When he looks down you're a mess, sweaty and panting with unfocused eyes various fluids smeared against your flushed skin. His eyes dip down to place where he had just been and the sight of your battered cunt drooling with thick globs of his essence feels like a punch to the gut, reigniting the flame of his hunger.
"Ajaw was right," you announce.
The mere utterance of that name effectively quells any semblance of arousal and Kinich shoots you a pointed glare. You immediately grin.
"You are a total sap, Malipo. Cumming as soon as I say I like you, ha!"
Kinich does not reward you with a reply, instead reaching over for one of the earlier discarded clothing items—his black undershirt it seems—to gently wipe the mess from your thighs before it dries. He avoids the areas that make you twitch with sensitivity and cleans you to the best of his abilities before tossing the item back to the floor.
Laundry will be hell tomorrow, he distantly notes, but likely no worse than the typical stains of saurian viscera and his own blood. Your inquisitive gaze remains pinned to his face, watching as he untangles the several layers of sheets and thick comforter around you to pull them over your body instead.
He is considering asking why on Teyvat you have so many layers on your bed in the dead of Natlan summer when your soft voice cuts the silence first. gles the layers of sheets and thick comforter around you to pull them over your body instead. He is considering asking why on Teyvat you have so many layers on your bed in the dead of Natlan summer when your soft voice cuts the silence first.
"Do you like me?"
The question makes him freeze, eyes snapping to your own to try and read your expression. Your tone was curious and genuine—something that makes his stomach churn uncomfortably.
You must know, he thinks, you're always reading him so well, certain of his feelings without him ever saying a word. You must have read it in the way he inexplicably spends so many hours at the bakery each week, the way he talks to you more than he has ever spoken to anyone, the way he just reached the pinnacle of human connection with you just now—
Kinich pauses as your request from earlier flashes in his mind.
Maybe you just want him to say it aloud... he could certainly do that. Maybe he can finally muster up the courage to give you that emerald necklace that has been waiting in the bottom of his back pocket for days. He could just open his mouth and tell you right now that he likes you but—
Kinich's expression must change in a way you can't read because you tilt your head with furrowed brow in that cute way you always do when you don't quite understand something.
"I'm in love with you," he blurts.
Pause.
"...I think."
Kinich is nothing if not honest—maybe to a fault. But love is not something he can remember fondly. His experiences with love start with the heavy hands of his father and end at the bottom of a cliff. And, as painful as it was, it was still the only way he knew love, ugly and twisted but still peppered with laughter and smiles and the bittersweet taste of chocolate. He thinks you are something a little different, more akin to the warmth and comfort of his mother—but she left.
And he really hopes you won't leave.
Your face breaks into a wide grin and Kinich is releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him down on top of you and under the inferno of your ten billion unnecessary blankets but he doesn't utter a word of complaint. His arms wrap around your waist, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.
cw: mentions of alcohol and childhood abuse (Kinich), fem!reader, slow burn, hurt/comfort
a/n: I wrote this for me and the two other Kinich fans out there LOL
(SEQUEL HERE)
There was very little room for routines in the life of a Saurian Hunter. Perhaps that is why Kinich valued his early mornings at Ayni Bakery so much.
He always enters the bakery with efficiency, walking past rows and rows of steaming golden buns and gemstone-colored biscuits to stop at the discount bin. He takes only a moment to find his favorite item then briskly walks towards the counter, plopping his bread on the counter, and pulling out his coin pouch. Only then does he look up, staring at you expectantly as he waits for you to complete your half of the transaction.
As always, you offer Kinich an amused grin.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite customer,” you drawl, “what will it be today? Oh, one bag of Mini Asha Pockets—as always.”
“I like them,” Kinich says simply.
“Do you always have to get yesterday’s batch though? You know we make them fresh everyday, right?”
You cast a pointed glance towards the shelf nearest to the door where a tray of freshly baked Mini Asha Pockets sit still warm from the oven. Kinich does not even bother to look, eerily reptilian eyes still locked on your own.
“These are cheaper.”
You let out an exasperated sigh and roll your eyes but the impact is softened by the fond smile on your lips as you dutifully write down the cost of his purchase on a small receipt.
“Right. One would think the Great Malipo Kinich would be able to afford something a little better than stale bread but I digress—your total is 3,500 mora.”
Coming from anyone else your sarcastic quips might be deemed disrespectful–if he were Ajaw you would surely never hear the end of it—but Kinich has grown familiar with your teasing over the past half year.
Kinich pays in exact change and leaves with his paper bag of buns with little fanfare. Only after Kinich has left the boundaries of the Scions of the Canopy, Ajaw decides it is finally late enough in the morning to make his presence known.
“Ughh, Mini Asha Pockets again? Is that all you eat? Bread Girl was right, you gotta start trying more things—or at least things that aren’t old… Then again, maybe you’ll catch food poisoning and finally kill over, haha!”
Kinich does not deign to respond. He instead stuffs the last pastry into his mouth with one hand while crumpling up the bag with the other. He heads towards the meeting area of the day’s commission, mentally calculating how much he should charge for the travel fee.
“Shit—you really saved our skin, Malipo! We’d be seriously screwed without your help. We’ll double—no, triple your compensation as thanks…”
It has been a while since Kinich’s pockets have been so full. The mora is a heavy weight on his hip as he returns home through the Huitztlan market. He considers what he could spend the unexpected bonus mora on, drowning out Ajaw’s own ridiculous suggestions being shouted in his ear.
Perhaps Kinich should take a vacation. With this amount of mora he could afford to take several days off from hunting to rest or enjoy some cliff-diving, maybe even purchase some new climbing gear if the price is right.
As he frequently does when he finds himself with a decent amount of money, Kinich unwillingly remembers his father.
He remembers the “good” nights when his father stumbled through the door laughing, boisterous and flushed with alcohol as he offered a colorful box of chocolates to a young Kinich and a sweet-smelling bouquet of roses to his mother.
Back then Kinich had been too naïve to understand why his mother would see those pretty flowers and immediately start to cry.
“—a fuckin’ steal! That’s like two week’s worth of bread for only a thousand mora!”
Kinich’s pace slows as he watches two middle-aged men exiting the tent just a few meters ahead, their arms carrying burlap bags stuffed full of baked goods. Even without a logo Kinich recognizes their origin. The cute, puffy shape gives away your iconic Mini Asha Pockets. The sight alone causes Kinich’s mouth to water, a convenient reminder that he has yet to eat dinner.
“I can’t believe that story worked! You’re one hell of an actor.”
The two men erupt into laughter, shoulders knocking against each other as they all but skip down the street. Kinich stands frozen in place, eyes glued to the familiar shop sign ahead.
“Oiii—are you even listening to me, lizard brain? How dare you disrespect your Almighty Demonlord, K’uhul Ajaw—ooh, is that the bakery? It smells good—hey, why don’t you put some of that shiny new coin to good use and feed me, you stingy bastard!”
To Kinich’s dismay, Ajaw was onto something. It seemed your bakery was having some sort of sale, a bag full of bread for only one thousand mora? That was a ninety percent discount, he would be a fool not to take advantage of such terms.
With that thought, Kinich enters your shop for the second time today while ignoring Ajaw’s animated celebration featuring confetti and a noisemaker he most certainly does not need.
Inside, Kinich half expects to see the shelves completely barren with brightly colored signs announcing some sort of clearance sale or everything must go. Thankfully, your stock is more or less how it usually is at this time in the early evening, limited but not bare, and there is no indication of an imminent permanent closure.
As he reaches the back of the shop he spots you at the counter, handing a bag of colorful Saurus Crackers to a small child. The child hands you a few coins in exchange and even from a distance Kinich can tell the amount is insufficient. He expects you to point it out, perhaps make one of those clever jokes you seem so fond of that subtly clues the child in on the missing mora. Or perhaps you will opt for directness, something you tend to do with particularly new customers who may not understand your sense of humor yet, kindly pointing out that the payment is short so the child can rectify his mistake.
To Kinich’s disbelief, you do not even bother to count the mora in your hand. Your warm eyes remain on the young customer, bidding him a cheerful farewell as he returns your smile with a toothy grin of his own. Shouting out a cheerful “thank you, miss baker,” the child turns on his heel and runs out of the shop with excitement, clutching the bag of treats to his chest tightly.
Kinich watches, mildly appalled, as you simply put the unknown amount of mora in a glass jar and turn back to review some paperwork on your counter.
“Heeey—are we getting some snacks or are you just gonna stare at Bread Girl all day? I’m starvin’ here!”
Ajaw’s voice—earsplintering as always—startles you into looking up. Your wide eyes flicker between the floating dragon and Kinich before flickering with recognition that has your shoulders visibly relaxing.
“Hey, Ajaw,” you greet with a smile before shifting your attention to him. “Kinich.”
Your expression shifts into something still positive but slightly less sweet than what you had offered Ajaw. He has noticed it several times before but he is reminded yet again that you seem to regard him differently from your other customers. The distinction makes his chest twist in a way he can not quite identify.
It tends to be easier to read your emotions than his own.
To his left, Ajaw has already started spouting some backhanded praise towards you for acknowledging his presence first, something he claims should be common sense, but neither of you pay him any mind.
“It’s pretty rare to see you in the afternoon,” you continue, “are you finally tired of eating day-old bread?”
“I heard rumors of a sale,” Kinich explains, stretching the truth only slightly, “a bag full for only a thousand mora.”
Your brows furrow in confusion, head tilting as you seem to parse through his words. Kinich’s gaze flickers down as your lips move, seeming to form the beginning of a question before you pause. Something seems to click then because you are suddenly smiling again, eyes dancing with mirth. Privately, Kinich wonders at how effortlessly expressive you are, a direct contrast to his stolid tendencies.
“Oh, the two men from earlier?”
He nods and your expression changes yet again to something much softer, almost forlorn as you sigh.
“Those two—archons bless them—were recently injured on a dangerous commission. I just wanted to help them out a little while they're unable to work, no one should go to bed hungry.”
Kinich recalls the two lively men in his recent memory, playfully jostling each other and chattering about which beer goes best with bread. They seemed to be far from recently injured and unable to work. He is beginning to have a sneaking suspicion…
“What about the one just now,” Kinich presses, “he conned you out of a few mora for those cookies.”
Your sympathetic expression melts back into more of the teasing amusement he is used to before you give him a brief lookover, hands raising to rest on your hips. The pose conjures up fuzzy memories of his mother, an exasperated but fond tone calling his name and lightly scolding him for staying out to play just a little too late. Kinich is not sure but he suspects that you and his mother would have gotten along.
“That was a child, Kinich. He didn’t con me, he probably just miscounted.”
For the first time since he has known you Kinich finds himself slightly irked in your presence. Your nonchalance towards something as important as mora is off-putting, conjuring up memories of people he would rather forget. The sneaking suspicion has become a full on red alert.
“But that means you’re short by several thousand mora today,” he attempts to explain patiently. “What if someone comes in tomorrow claiming that they are sick? Or that child tells all of his friends to come here for the same price?”
You simply wave him off, shaking your head with a smile like it’s nothing. It frustrates him more than he thinks it probably should.
“That’s fine,” you say, “mora isn’t everything, y’know?”
“Ha! Seeeee, Kinich? I've been tryin’ to tell this stingy bastard that for years—!”
Kinich has concluded that you are simply incapable of reading people.
It is ironic, really, considering you seem to have read him so well. While most tend to confuse his muted expressions and blunt dialogue for boredom or annoyance, you never seemed to have such premonitions. You have a knack for knowing when Kinich was in a particularly positive mood—those were the days you allowed the friendly banter to linger a little longer. Likewise, on the days that were darker, when the haunting memories and expectations seem to have finally caught up with him, you distract him from his thoughts. You could read Kinich—the man notoriously rumored to be cold-blooded and pragmatic to a fault—like an open book. And yet it seemed even the most obvious of liars could get over on you.
Kinich has found himself in your bakery at random times nearly every day this week. Last week’s large payout has freed him from the usual time constraints of daily commissions, allowing Kinich to visit your shop during the much busier lunch and evening hours. On every visit he has seen you interact with various customers and each time you have gotten ripped off.
On Monday it was a small child, a little girl with curly pigtails and missing front teeth taking full advantage of her innocent face to ask if she could have some extra treats in her bag for her family’s “new puppy.”
You tossed several puffed grainfruit bars into the bag without hesitation.
On Wednesday it was an elderly woman who swindled you with a sob story about her grandchildren coming to visit for the first time. The grandmother droned on and on about how her children had all moved to other nations and started new lives, too busy to send more than a few letters a year and that she regrets missing the birth of her precious grandchildren.
Through teary eyes, you offered her a fifty-percent discount.
On Thursday it was a young couple. Newly engaged, they had said, constantly cuddling up against each other and stealing kisses in a nauseating display of affection. The wedding would be a small affair, only attended by their closest friends as neither family approved of the marriage.
You smiled sweetly and offered to make their wedding cake for free.
You listen to everyone without pretense, believe every impossible circumstance and unlikely scenario without batting an eye. He has never in his life met someone with so much disregard for common sense.
Kinich does not understand it. Every time he has interacted with you, you seem to see right through him, eyeing him knowingly when his eye catches on the fresh batch of Mini Asha Pockets or insisting that he takes a few days of rest after a particularly challeging hunt. What about other customers made them so difficult for you to read?
And even more concerning than your inability to read people is your inability to see the value in mora.
He knew your background—it was something you had shared with him on several of his visits. He knew that your family was well off and that they had sent you to the best mentors in Natlan to study maths and history. You spoke eloquently when you wanted to, he knew you were far from a fool. And yet you insist upon underselling your own goods at every turn.
“Mora isn’t everything, y’know?”
Except mora quite literally is everything. Mora is the water in the river, the meat filling your belly, the colorful box of chocolates that promise no more pain for tonight. Everything and everyone has a cost. How did you not understand that?
Kinich initially tried to let it go. The two of you were not exactly friends, barely even acquaintances, really. Despite how familiar and friendly you seemed to treat him you were simply the girl he buys his daily bread from and he was simply your customer.
Then he found out about the papers.
It was not uncommon to find you hunched over a haphazard pile of papers during slow hours in the bakery. Kinich had not thought much of it—they were likely recipes or inventory order forms—standard fair for a business, he presumed.
But one morning he had approached the counter only to find you fast asleep. The sight was foreign, he had never seen you anything less than energetic even in the earliest hours. He had asked before—well, Ajaw had asked but really it was the same thing—how you managed to be so peppy working at the crack of dawn. You had replied with a smile so bright it made the whole bakery feel several degrees warmer.
“Making my customers happy gives me all the energy I need.”
Yet here you were, slumped over and completely vulnerable in a way that made his chest feel tight.
Kinich mentally thanks the archons that Ajaw hates early mornings too much to appear right now.
He should wake you up, he thinks. Anyone could come in at any moment. If a customer comes in and sees you asleep you might miss out on a potential sale.
Or if a thief comes in…
That trail of thought ends abruptly. He is here so you are protected, he is Malipo Kinich afterall.
His attention is drawn back to the present when you softly murmur in your sleep, nuzzling your cheek deeper into the stack of papers beneath you. A small line of drool leaks from the corner of your mouth, catching Kinich's sharp gaze as it drips down and smears a bit of ink.That is when he finally registers what is written at the top of each page.
PAST DUE INVOICE – FINAL NOTICE
Kinich freezes as you begin to stir awake, yawning loudly before you notice the presence of another person and jolt. Your wide eyes meet his own before glancing down at the bag of discount Mini Asha Pockets in his hand then back up to the first few rays of sunrise peaking behind him.
“Oh archons—I am so sorry,” you fluster, nearly tripping over yourself to open the cash register, “I’ve never fallen asleep at the bakery before but I haven’t been sleeping as much lately with the new hours and—ugh, now I’m rambling—your total is three thousan—"
“New hours?”
You pause and suddenly turn sheepish, avoiding eye contact to Kinich’s frustration.
“Ah, yeah. The bakery hasn’t been doing so well lately so I’m trying to stay open later to hopefully increase sales during the summer months.”
Kinich opens his mouth, not entirely sure himself what he was planning to say when Ajaw appears, startling both of you.
“The Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw, grows thirsty and demands a cup of the finest fruit juice!”
You process Kinich’s purchase quickly after that and he pays in exact change, as always. He manages to leave the bakery only a few minutes later than usual, still plenty of time to reach his destination. Ajaw is momentarily placated with the promise of ample quenepa berries prime for juicing along their route. The paper bag of Mini Asha Pockets in his hands look and taste the same as always and yet the sight of the little yellow “30% off” sticker causes his stomach to roll with something unpleasant.
A hero may adopt many different roles within a community.
At least, that is what Kinich tries to tell himself when he is threatening a pair of grown men over a pack of Puff Pops. He stands tall, quietly staring down the two men cowering on their knees as they beg for forgiveness from the Great Malipo Kinich and promise to only pay full price for goods from now on.
Truthfully, Kinich has not really done much in the way of violence. His reputation as an experienced hunter and Ancient Name bearer alone tend to set an air of unease amongst those he meets for the first time, only amplified by his utilitarian approach to business. It is actually Ajaw who seems to do most of the work for him in this case, the abrasive dragon more than happy to spew creative threats involving various forms of ancient torture. Kinich chooses to disregard that most of Ajaw’s threats seem to begin with: "Once Kinich finally kicks rocks and I take over his body..."
In Kinich’s defense, this confrontation had not been premeditated. Kinich had not set out this morning with the intentions of threatening the members of his own tribe but he just happened to once again be visiting your bakery in the late afternoon when he spotted the two “injured” men from a few weeks ago in the process of delivering yet another piss poor sob story to you.
“It’s been a real tough past few days with the wife sick and the kids strugglin’ to make friends‐—would really mean a lot if we could bring home some extra treats for ‘em, y’know? But the guild has been really stingy with commissions and you know I still have that issue with my hip—”
Kinich nearly rolls his eyes at the balding man attempting to mime a broken hip, his friend beside him pretending to help him balance. His bored gaze shifts over to look at you behind the counter only to see you clearly eating it up. You star at the two men with pitiful, watery eyes, nodding along sympathetically. You are so unbelievably gullible.
It is when you begin reaching under the counter for a box of expensive imported chocolates that Kinich decides he needs to intervene. With three large steps, Kinich physically cuts into the conversation, grabbing each man by the back of the tunic and pulling them away with the excuse of needing to discuss the details of an upcoming commission.
Following a stern reminder not to swindle anymore bake shops, punctuated with some very vivid threats courtesy of Ajaw, Kinich returns to your bakery with the pair of men looking unnaturally pale right behind him. You welcome the men back warmly but they suddenly seem disinterested in conversation and pointedly avoid eye contact as they quickly complete their purchases at full price with a generous tip. Once the men have left–practically tripping over each other in their haste to leave–you shoot Kinich a suspicious look to which he innocently shrugs.
The next few weeks progress similarly.
Kinich finds himself feeling more and more like a security guard, silently keeping tabs on customers and “encouraging” any who attempt to take advantage of your bleeding heart for a discount. You seem oblivious to it all, cheerfully remarking that profits are higher than usual this month followed immediately by gratitude towards the archons for their blessings. Kinich merely nods along, taking his time to look through each item in your bestsellers section.
That is perhaps the most obvious change. Kinich finds himself gravitating towards the slightly more expensive fresh pastries, much to your delight.
“You’ve finally had enough of the stale leftovers?”
“...something like that.”
“Haha, well since you’re my dear friend I’ll give you a discount—”
Kinich assumes all is resolved. Your profits are at an all-time high, the store has returned to its usual hours, and even his daily bread tastes better now that it is fresh.
“That won’t be necessary.”
That all takes a turn one Friday afternoon.
Kinich is negotiating a deal for a rare Nagadus emerald necklace with a foreign merchant insistent on overcharging. He is calmly arguing, something about the abundance of emeralds in Natlan, when he happens to spot you exiting your shop out of the corner of his eyes. You’re holding a tote bag full of packaged pastries and happen to look in his direction. Once you spot him you shoot him a dazzling smile and enthusiastic wave. He watches as you make your way towards a group of small children playing in the dirt. You offer a loaf of bread and within moments the children all swarm around you in a circle, jumping up and down in excitement as you pass out pastries and rolls and cookies to each one. Kinich doesn’t realize he has stopped talking mid-sentence until the merchant chuckles, turning to look at you as well.
“That yer girlfriend? She’s a cute one ain’t she.”
Kinich bristles, shoulders tensing at the comment. He opens his mouth to say something—a correction or a threat, he isn’t sure himself—but before he can the man is already speaking again.
“Kind girl, too. She’s always givin’ to those in need–saved my skin a few times when sales weren’t doin’ too well.”
Kind or foolish? A month ago the answer was simple to Kinich. Everything has a cost, from the meat that fills your belly to the canopy above your head. To willingly deprive yourself of things was insanity.
And yet as he watches you hand an Asha Pocket to a scrawny child who looks up at you with starry eyes, Kinich sees himself. Only six years old but already an adventurer, tanned skin littered in bruises and scrapes. He remembers his stomach would always hurt back then. On the nights father came home angry and drunk he would go to bed hungry, the aches in his stomach matching the throbbing in his swollen cheek. On the nights father came home happy with arms full of succulent boar and potatoes and pita bread Kinich would eat and eat, stuffing himself so full his stomach ached because he could not be sure when his next meal would come.
If he had met someone like you he wonders how differently things might have been.
“Tell ya what,” the merchant suddenly says, startling Kinich as he drops the necklace right into his hands, “I’ll give it to ya—ayni wawqi—today for you, tomorrow for me. In exchange, I want ya t’ thank ya girl for me.”
The merchant nods before turning to leave Kinich to stare in mild shock at the necklace in his hand.
“What a deal,” Ajaw cheers, flickering in to examine the green gem more closely, “this is a glorious gem worthy of even the Almighty Dragonlord, K’uhul A–hey, where are we going!?”
Your tote bag is half empty by the time Kinich reaches your side, Ajaw unwillingly dragged alongside him. Wordlessly, Kinich takes the bag from your hands and begins distributing treats to the remaining children. You nearly gawk at him but he pretends not to notice, focusing instead on handing a pack Mini Asha Pockets to a little girl. The girl receives the package with both hands, nearly reverent as she thanks him with starry eyes. Kinich stiffly nods and the girl runs off towards the other children who have already begun sharing their spoils amongst each other.
“Well, well,” you begin with a teasing lilt to your voice, “never thought I’d see the day the stingy Malipo Kinich offers anything for free.”
Kinich spares you a glance, saurian eyes catching on the curve of your smile.
“It’s not free.”
Your smile falls and you blink at him with confusion.
“Huh?”
“It’s not free,” he repeats, fishing out another pastry from the bag, “these children…one day they will become the scholars and hunters and heroes of our tribe. They pay us by growing up and building a stronger Natlan.”
The explanation is very pragmatic, very Kinich. Your eyes crease as laughter bubbles from your lips, amused and touched all at the same time. He feels his own cheeks pull into a smile as he watches you, warmer and more dazzling than the desert sun. As he thought, everything has a cost…
But perhaps not all costs must be paid in mora.
“Bleeegh, since when did lizard brain become such a sap!?”
premise. imminently before the abyssal war in natlan, you had confessed to kinich in fear you wouldn't see him again. except, now that he's back, he's seemingly avoiding you more than ever.
notes. i miss natlan aq lwk, apologies for lore inaccuracies i have a bad memory, maybe a tad ooc?? not sure, imagining the tribes had their individual celebrations for the victory, kinich is such a huge fav of mine and i do think he deserves a good welcome back, tysm for 40 followers btws!!!
once the night warden wars had concluded, meaning natlan had been gracefully saved from the barrage of destruction from the hands of the abyss, it was clear that your hometown had settled into an ease of normalcy. that had never been present before; the idea that you could venture the landscape and avoid conflict with animals who'd been filled with abyssal corrosion.
if this were a fairytale, you'd portray yourself as a heroic figure who quelled threats across scions of the canopy, enabling the true heroes of the tribes to complete their mission.
but no, that wasn't true at all. you did help fight some creatures, yes, but most of your time was devoted to reassuring the families who had lost more than they'd hoped. in a way, it was still a noble feat. surely most of those parents were grateful to have someone with them once reuniting with their child, or receiving the dreaded news of death.
in truth, a large part of natlan's success was down to your friend, kinich. he had always shown himself as a formidable fighter, the great malipo, so it hardly surprised you to hear of his successes. even so, once the great celebration began to commemorate the wins of both the tribe and the nation itself, you couldn't find kinich anywhere.
you hardly believed he was already accepting another commission. after all, even kinich knew what his limits were, especially after such an arduous battle. he wasn't at the children of echoes or the people of the springs. whilst there were the other tribes, you were pretty confident he wouldn't have strayed that far.
adjusting the satchel around your shoulder for the fifth time, you heaved a sigh. maybe he was trying to avoid being found. you'd hardly blame him; after so much attention, you would have also tried to escape others.
though, you would've hoped you exceeded that group of people who should avoid him. then again, there is that other problem...
a much more likely reason for his disappearance is your untimely confession during the whole war time. before he'd left to aid mavuika, you'd finally spoke of the feelings you had for him. it was a long-haul speech, ajaw even tuned in for the final few words, before kinich timed him out again.
"could we speak about this once everything's over?"
within the weeks of fighting and rebuilding, you'd gathered the meaning behind that. he didn't want to brutally crush your heart knowing that conflict would arise, so he saved it for afterwards. a noble choice for malipo, after all.
ruining the friendship was not your initial plan though. it had spilled out in an amalgamation of stay safe, we'll celebrate upon your return, i love you and remember to not die.
though, you would've hoped that kinich had the goodwill to meet you sooner rather than later, just to end the endless turmoil your dreams had become.
you were still stood in the shrubbery of the scions of the canopy when you heard it.
"agh, kinich! i swear, take me back home this once!"
that had to be ajaw. he was usually an annoying brat, but hearing his voice after weeks almost felt comforting. you allowed his screams of annoyance to drag you right over to the guy you've been trying to find all day; just to find him sat in a tree.
"kinich? kinich!" you yelled, feet already finding holes at the bottom of the trunk. okay, maybe this was slightly impulsive, but you had to see him!
except, you never really were much of a climber. your foot broke one of the branches, and your hand was barely hanging on to the hole above you. was this a sign?
though, it wasn't a concern of yours for much longer. kinich had grappled both you and him to the ground by the time you were considering sacrifice, with ajaw angrily commandeering behind him.
"oh, it's you! now that we've returned victorious, bow down to the almighty dragonlord—" kinich quickly swiped him away, leaving the two of you in an awfully apparent silence.
this was the first time you'd seen kinich fully since the whole abyssal threat. luckily, it seemed like he had only minor injuries from the whole thing; based on your observation, anyway.
"are you going to keep staring at me, or..."
the wind blew again, pushing your satchel as it blew. "yeah. i mean, no, sorry. just— it's been ages, y'know? had me worried there."
"i was never in much danger. it wasn't really me who did the heavy lifting. that was more the traveller and mavuika," he reasoned, eyes dropping to the bag you kept fiddling with. "what's that?"
your gaze shifted. "you haven't been coming to the tribe celebrations. it's obviously not going to capture the whole atmosphere, but i kept some of the things for you," the satchel dropped down your arm swiftly, allowing your fist to hold it over kinich's palm before finally letting go.
he zipped open the leather, revealing an assortment of leftovers from the banquets, along with jewellery. he had heard some of the elders had been making charms to ward of bad dreams of the abyss, but he hadn't expected a whole collection. there were drawings, too. upon closer inspection, they were by some of the children in the village; mostly of saurians, but there were a few of kinich specifically (with an aggressive ajaw lingering behind).
after a while, he hummed, wrapping the strap around his shoulder instead. "thankyou. it was very kind of you to bring this to me."
you nodded, the silence resurging again. maybe his plan was just to ignore your confession entirely? you hadn't truly thought of that option, though out of them all (public humiliation, hatred, avoidance, the list was endless), this was probably one of the best. your feet were about to push away from the deep grass when his voice echoed again.
"about our conversation,"
"oh, what conversation? we haven't seen eachother in weeks, i must've forgot!" maybe, if you pretended it never happened, you'd evade the awkwardness that was about to rise.
he deadpanned. "you know the one i'm on about."
the air chilled your bones. you simply hummed, hands tightening around the fabric of your shirt. archons, forgive you and your implusive decisions.
"i'm sorry i didn't respond at the time. i didn't want to mess up because i was rushing myself and didn't want to regret my wording in the future," he explained, hand lingering on the satchel. if you didn't know any better, you'd almost believe he looked nervous.
he coughed. "i guess i usually see things as having a price or a deal. like, both parties must get something out of whatever deal they're making."
was this seriously the avenue he was taking? he wouldn't see enough value in a potential relationship with you? that was a harsh way to serve a rejection.
"your probably one of the only people who i can't view in that way. sure, i still get things out of knowing you," he paused. "but i think, even if you had no profit to me, i'd still seek you out anyways. mualani said that's romantic or something. and she must've been right, because even when fighting against giant abyssal monsters, i was still thinking you."
your eyebrows furrowed. "are you saying...?"
kinich groaned, rubbing his eyes with his hand. "maybe i'm not phrasing this well... what i mean to say is that i share the same feelings you expressed. though, i suppose it's been a while and i left home quite abruptly, so if you no longer feel that way—“
"don't say things like that. i've liked you for years, you seriously think it'd go away in a few weeks?"
"no, not really. i was giving you the option to back off anyway, just in case."
you swallowed harshly, the outdoors beginning to feel way too hot. "well, maybe we can go back home. err, i mean, one of our houses. you need to try the banquet food, anyway. i can tell you what's been going on back home whilst you've been gone. and... we can figure out what a relationship means for us both."
was that a natural thing for couples? it's not like you could just start dating without discussion, he'd just been in a once-in-a-lifetime war and left for weeks.
kinich nodded. "that sounds good. i'll make sure to keep ajaw at bay for a few hours."
"aww, but what if i missed him too?"
"you can reconcile with him another time. now, let's go," his hand caught your wrist, gently tugging you across the dirt road. well, that had certainly gone better than you anticipted.
summary — kinich was tasked to handle a group of bandits taking camp in ameyalco waters, but he certainly didn't expect to see that you had gotten there first.
themes — fluff and humor, veterinarian!reader, ajaw being ajaw, developing relationship, kinich gets a bit flustered but nothing major, slow romance with these two
WC: 1.8k | ao3
The commission was simple enough. Find a group of bandits loitering around Ameyalco Waters, handle them swiftly, and earn a generous payout. The job was clear, the pay was copious, and Kinich wasn’t one to let an opportunity to make easy mora slide. Before the commissioner could even tell him the full details, he was already halfway across the Scions of the Canopy with his claymore in hand.
As he traveled to the marked destination, Ajaw buzzed around his ear, slinging insults and mockery per usual.
“How dare you interrupt the Almighty Dragonlord’s slumber for this!” the pixelated dragon exclaimed, zipping from Kinich’s left to his right repeatedly, giving Kinich his first Ajaw-related headache of the day. “I hope you die doing this stupid commission! That you die, you hear me?!”
Though he was used to the incessant death threats, they didn’t make him any less annoyed. Swatting Ajaw with the back of his hand, he ignored the loud “Gah!” that the Saurian made in turn. Eyes focused on the road ahead, Kinich said, “Pay attention. The sooner we find the trail, the sooner you can get back to bed.”
“How dare you patronize me?! You should be begging for my forgiveness right now, you ungrateful wretch! If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t even be able to take this stupid commission—! Gah!”
With another smack of his hand, Ajaw tumbled through the air. Kinich rolled his eyes before turning his attention to the soil ahead.
The ground was turning softer, damp from the pond waters that surrounded the vale. There were faint impressions of footsteps, three pairs that appeared to be dried and set. Those ones must have crossed the area some time ago.
But there was another pair of footsteps. These ones were far fresher, the soil around them still moist and impressionable. Whoever made them must have been wearing heeled boots, judging by the tracks. The ridges that crossed the prints looked different from the smooth-soled ones of the other three—these shoes were clearly built for outdoor exploration. And judging by the designer emblem printed into the ground, they were expensive, too.
Kinich lifted a hand to his chin in thought.
“What’s wrong with you?!” Ajaw barked. “We found the footprints, so let’s follow them!”
He shot his companion a glance, but said nothing. Continuing further past the boggy marsh, Kinich felt something unsettling begin to dwell within him. When the first patch of bright red blood appeared before him, he immediately kneeled before it to investigate.
A quick swipe of his finger through it was enough for him to recognize what had happened. It was the blood of a Koholasaurus.
The boot prints in the marsh were growing more interspersed. Whoever owned those shoes had started running.
Kinich would follow their lead.
“What the—?! Where are you going?!”
Ajaw’s cry fell upon deaf ears. For reasons unbeknownst to him, Kinich’s heart was pounding a mile a minute, and as he rounded the corner of the stone structure that hid the rest of the marsh from view, his eyes fell upon an unexpected sight.
“Hey…you’ll be okay.”
Your voice was calm, but your surroundings were anything but. Three men laid unconscious around your feet, your sword laid on the ground beside you. You held a roll of bandages in one hand, furling it around the wing of the injured Koholasaurus as you whispered gentle reassurances.
When the beast’s eyes landed on Kinich, it let out a feeble, strangled cry.
Immediately, you grabbed your sword and lunged at him. Right before your blade could strike his throat, you stopped. Kinich remained where he stood, staring back into those fierce eyes of yours without a shred of animosity.
A woman who tended to a Koholasaurus like it was a child, then brought her blade to anyone she perceived as a threat, could only be an honest person.
As if you heard his thoughts, your harsh expression immediately fell. You pulled your arm back, and with an elegant twirl of your blade, it dissipated into golden light. Looking rather awkward, you said, “I’m sorry. I thought you were another bandit.”
Before Kinich could reply to you, Ajaw made his presence known.
“Oh, come on! You were so close to killing this guy! The Almighty Dragonlord is displeased by the lowly girl’s actions!”
Your eyes flicked over to the pixelated menace with a blink. Quickly, you shook your head.
“I have to tend to this one,” you said, turning your back to him. “You seem capable. Will you lend me a hand?”
You knelt at the Koholasaurus’s side again, your attention devoted to the injured animal. Kinich’s eyes swept towards the knocked out bandits at your feet before he materialized a pixelated rope.
“Huh? You’re just gonna listen to her?! Who died and made her queen?!”
“Saurian,” you said, in a tone that was calm yet commanding. “Your voice is distressing to the Koholasaurus.”
“Wh—?! What gives you the right to speak to Ku’hul Ajaw this way?! Why, I oughta—! Gah!”
Immediately, Kinich grabbed Ajaw by the tail. With a sharp swing of his arm, he sent the Saurian flying into the air, spewing obscenities and insults as he tumbled across the valley.
Kinich quickly returned his attention to the bandits at his feet. He knelt to bind their wrists with rope, taking action while they were still unconscious. It didn’t take very long for him to realize that said bandits were the same ones he was briefed on just that morning.
“…Both of us were commissioned for the same job.”
He didn't ask for clarification, so much as he stated his observation. Behind him, he heard the sound of you unraveling bandages and shushing the whimpering animal.
“It seems that way,” you answered. “I guess I got here first.”
“I guess you did.” He finished the last knot in his rope before asking, “How much did they offer you?”
“How much…? That doesn’t matter. I took this job for free.”
Of course you did. He could tell by the way you knocked the bandits unconscious instead of killing them. By the way those designer boots of yours stamped into the ground. By the way you tended to a hurt Koholasaurus like a gentle matriarch. You were someone who didn’t see the value in mora like he did, and as little as he knew you, your every move told for it.
It was different, to say the least. Your actions could be interpreted as sheltered and naive, but also kind and charitable. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure if one held more value than the other.
“If you want,” you said, “I can pay you whatever your guys offered you.”
“Hm? No, that’s not necessary. You handled them.”
“You helped me.” You nudged at the bandits with your head. “That rope isn’t mine. It looks like it costs about…forty thousand mora?”
“Well. Considering the material, it’s more like fifty thousand,” he said plainly. “But I don’t need you to pay me.”
You looked up at him with something inquisitive in your eyes. It was like you were analyzing him, and the longer you stared at him, the more unusual he began to feel. The sensation started in his stomach, light and free like he felt when he was cliff diving, yet his body remained fixed to the ground. When your lips curled into a smile, it was as though you reminded his heart how to beat again.
How strange.
“Then…how about you help me with this one?” you asked. “I think it’s looking for its parents. If you take my commission and find them for me, I’ll be sure to compensate you appropriately for it.”
He swallowed. “How much are we talking?”
“Hm…about fifty thousand mora?”
Talk about overcompensation—but that fact didn’t look like it bothered you in the slightest. He supposed it was payment for a service. With that in mind, he casually said, “Deal.”
Your hand stroked the head of the Koholasaurus, who placed its chin in your lap. Smiling at Kinich fondly, you said, “Thank you. Please be careful.”
Abruptly. he turned away from you. He had never been spoken to like that before—full of such bountiful warmth and kindness—like he held some deeper meaning to you. The way you wished him well, how you babied the Koholasaurus in your lap…you almost reminded him of a young mother.
Rubbing the back of his neck, Kinich asked, “What’s your name?”
“My Ancient Name? It’s—.”
“No, your actual name.”
“Oh. I don’t really…well. I’m a veterinarian, so feel free to call me Doc.”
Like Ifa. Your dress suggested you were from the Flower Feather Clan as well. “I’m Kinich.”
“Kinich…? Ah, you bear the Ancient Name Malipo, don’t you? I’ve heard all about your Saurian companion, too.”
As though summoned, said Saurian companion came rolling back into Kinich’s field of view with a scream. As he launched insult after insult Kinich’s way, the man tuned it all out. Playing on repeat in his mind was the way you said his name: Kinich.
It sounded pleasant on your tongue. Sophisticated, but soft.
“…I’ll be back,” he said eventually.
You gave him a nod. It took Kinich a moment to realize that Ajaw had gone radio silent.
The mouthy dragon looked at you, then at Kinich. Before he could intervene, Ajaw placed a pixelated blush right over his face, complete with pink heart eyes to boot. With a loud cackle, Ajaw jeered, “Someone’s in loooooove!”
“Stop that,” he hissed, waving the pink pixels away from himself. He found you interesting, sure, but he most certainly was not in love with a woman he had just met.
The young Koholasaurus let out a soft whine. You laughed.
“No, he’s not my husband,” you said. “But yes, he is very nice.”
Kinich’s eyes widened. “You…understand the Koholasaurus?”
“Hm? Oh, yes. That’s how I found those bandits so easily in the first place.”
“What, you want a medal or something?!” Ajaw asked. “You still stole the Almighty Dragonlord’s commission fee! How will you repay His Magnificence for this?!”
“We’re going to find the Koholasaurus’s parents,” Kinich said, grabbing Ajaw by the tail as he did. “Shut up and come with me.”
“Huh?! That kind of request sounds like chump change!”
“Fifty thousand mora,” you supplied.
“Fifty thousand—?!” Ajaw’s sunglasses grew bigger, like his eyes were bulging, as his pink mouth simultaneously opened wide. Waving his arm around, he snapped, “Kinich, this woman appears to have an incredibly disposable income! Court her now, in the name of Ku’hul Ajaw!”
“Gh—! Shut up, already!”
Heat that wasn’t from the blazing sun overhead soaked into Kinich’s face. As he trudged forward, dragging Ajaw along behind him, he heard the lilting of your laughter. It made his ears tickle, but he did his best to ignore the feeling.
He had a job to do, first and foremost. Any thoughts of you could come after payment was received.
a/n: really funny that i thought i'd never write kinich but here i am with this one xD this was a work done for a fic/art trade with @laro80, who is a super talented artist so please check her works out!
anyway, if you liked what you read, please consider leaving a me a heart! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated!
if you would like to be tagged whenever i post genshin x reader, please check my rules here! thank you!
icymi! chai's last non-lohen post:
sfw/nsfw headcanons, multi imagines (1.1k notes)
masterlist
⊹ ˖ fellow authors, i do not mind if you are inspired by my works to write something similar, but please credit me if you are. these concepts mean a lot to me, so i would really like to be credited for any of my personal ideas that inspire you. thank you!
In which Illuga takes care of you during the changing seasons.
Note: Teyvat has it's own rules; therefore here, Hanahaki is nothing more than a minor seasonal allergy that recurs like hay fever and you're one of its unfortunate victims.
You'd always scoffed when others called flowers beautiful.
Hanahaki, a disease born out of the yearning one holds inside their heart. The bloodied petals often symbolise the amount of longing one holds for their one sided object of affection, so much so that they are willing to keep otherworldly flora inside their flesh and body next to their living, beating heart; while the agony of keeping a secret from said object of affection, the struggle of conveying one's true emotions even as death hangs over their head depicts the rise and fall of relationships alike.
Inazuma novels were ever so creative in spinning such tales; and perhaps in another world, hanahaki truly was as beautiful as the tales describe. The quiet glances across the room, the fleeting touches that blossom into buds, the choice between living for one's heart or survival— what was love if not a constant, magnificent struggle like a flower blooming from barren soil?
... Unfortunately, reality often turns out to ever so disappointing. Predictably so.
Cough cough cough
The sound of your fist banging against your chest reverberated across the whole room, causing your worried lover to peek his head out of the kitchen in distress.
"Are you sure you're alright, my light?" Illuga asked with a hint of anxiety, trying desperately not to let his concern overtake his expression (badly). "I know the doctor said it's nothing to worry about, but…"
His words trailed off as his gaze swept across the once-clean floorboards now floorboards covered in a wide assortment of scattered petals. Some he recognised to belong to local Nod Krai flowers (not the mechanical ones Richeza makes, archons no), while others looked to be of foreign origin. Perhaps they originated from your homeland or were entirely fictional? He had no way of asking. At least not now.
"Cough don't look at me like that cough I'll be cough fine."
His knitted brows pulled closer than the ocean as several more petals tumbled out of your throat while you attempted to speak, scattering more flowers across not only the floor but the entire bedroom. A few stuck closer to the bedside table while some flew closer to your feet, creating a small pile of bloodied flowers petals that almost seemed like something right out of a gothic romance novel.
Crimson dyed the frostlamp flowers a bloody red as they dropped as gracefully as rain before landing at the very top of the pile of the other blood soaked flowers surrounding your feet, nearly reaching the height of your ankles in the short few minutes you had been sitting here. Agony, pain, annoyance— all of those emotions crossed your face in less than a second, piled up taller. prompting Illuga to sidestep his way across the room until he sat next to you on the bed.
One of his hands rested on top of his lap while the other slowly found its way onto your back, slowly tracing up your spine before drawing soothing circles behind your shoulders like he learnt to do to keep you grounded. The quiet yet firm touch from his hands was enough to keep you from completely losing your mind amidst the scent of flowers that made you nauseous. Sensing this, Illuga grabbed the cup of water sitting idly on top of the bedside table and handed it towards you.
"Here, drink this," he urged with a gentle voice, "it'll help your throat. If you're still feeling uncomfortable, cough it all out first."
Frankly, you couldn't stop coughing even if you wanted to. There was so much build up in your lungs that your nose was constantly smelling the scent of rainbow roses and winter iceleas instead of the calming incense Illuga kept inside his room.
Still, your throat burned from all the coughing, while the taste of iron mixed with the bitterness of flowers (qingxin? winter iceleas? frostlamps? you stopped caring to identify them after the second spring with this accursed illness) tasted rotten. If you hadn't lurched whatever flowers was mixing with your spit and blood out of your throat earlier, you doubt that your tastebuds would be able to taste your lover's wonderful and delicious cooking later— an absolute tragedy waiting to happen.
"Better?"
"Cough cough no cough"
"Slow down you'll choke!—"
After a few minutes of coughing and hacking the life of your body, you hung your head low in despair, questioning what archons did you spite in your last life to be cursed such a dreadful illness? Did the heavenly principles think it was funny, making a certain percentage of Teyvat's population have to cough out flowers every springtime like they were walking trees waiting to decorate every street and shower unsuspecting passerbys with a flower shower? You hope not.
(If they did, hopefully the archons had insurance for a random citizen suddenly walking up to them in the streets and strangling their throats to mimic the feeling of being suffocated by nature. That should teach them.)
Once again sensing that you were feeling slightly better now, Illuga grabbed a medicine packet out of the bedside drawer and popped the two pills out before handing them to you.
"Here." He said comfortingly while taking the cup of water out of your hands, replacing the now-empty space in your palm with the medicine in his hands. "If you need more water, just nod your head. I'll go get it for you."
You shook your head and took the pills out of his hand, thanking him with a hoarse voice before popping it into your mouth. The taste of blood mixed with qingxin masked the dry taste of medicine before it was washed down your throat. Sadly, the bitterness of the flowers lingered in your mouth like an inerasable stain, causing you to sigh disappointingly.
"I swear it gets worse every spring."
You grumbled under your breath while lifting your hand up to wipe away the sticky blood off your lips.
Before your fingers could get close to it, however, Illuga had already lifted his bare hands and was gingerly wiping off the blood away with his thumbs, uncaring for the fact that it stained his skin nor that there were tissues right next to the bed for this exact purpose. Well, one of its purposes.
"It's possible that the warm weather is the reason why." He hummed. "Or, because you haven't been taking care of yourself. Tell me, when was the last time you had a night of proper sleep?"
Your eyes immediately darted away. Suddenly, the corner of the room looked much more interesting to look at.
He said your name in a firm tone and you folded like paper, still keeping your eyes off of him as you answered his question.
"But it's not fair because you also don't sleep regularly!"
Illuga stared at you with a hint of exasperation before knocking your head lightly with one finger, feeling not the least bit sorry after you squeak out in pain.
"I'm not the one with a seasonal allergy that makes it hard to breathe." He argued back while rubbing the sore spot he knocked on your head with his clean thumb. Despite his exasperated tone, he still handled you like a fragile piece of glass, kissing the sore spot over your forehead with a gentle touch like the most delicate thing he had ever held. "Ivar said that you should get better after some rest. Meanwhile, I'll talk to pops to rearrange your patrol route closer to the seaside. Since there aren't many plants there, the pollen can't aggravate the flowers in your lungs."
You sneezed and looked up at Illuga with teary eyes. Both from gratefulness and your earlier coughing-fest. Truly, your boyfriend was too angelic sometimes.
"Thank you honey, you're too nice." You sobbed through tears.
Illuga frowned, looking almost offended that you were thanking him for something he ought to do. "Nonsense, there's nothing like that."
To Illuga, there really was no such thing as being too nice to you. A sick patient was still a patient, even if all they were suffering from was a seasonal illness that came and went as swiftly as dawn breaking over the horizon.
Truthfully, seeing you in pain was also ripping his heart in two, constricting his airways more than the petals strangling your esophagus. He wished that he could take over your illness for you every season and suffer in your place so that you wouldn't always look so depressed when the cold air of winter gradually shifted warmer. While spring was always cruel in Nod Krai, it felt like a bigger joke when the both of you knew what was coming with the changing season— and there was nothing you nor Illuga could do wait it out, sitting by your side and comfort you as you hacked your throat out to empty out your lungs, powerless to do anything else for you.
His rough hands carefully spun you around to face him before cupping your cheek with nothing but gentleness, brushing his lips over yours like a shy bird awaiting affection.
(For a brief moment, Illuga recalled the story of nightingales gliding across the night skies while carrying burning wicks in their beaks, becoming the light that outshone even the darkness of the abyss.
Even if Illuga couldn't yet become a nightingale, he still hoped to be the warm ray of sunshine ushering you into every spring, turning into the flame kept your life burning even in the darkest of nights.)
"I'll sweep everything up quick, then we can go together to see pops and discuss your patrol change. Killing two birds with one stone, right?"
"What happened to resting!?"
"I never said you wouldn't still be on patrol. Come on, we've still got work to do."
"QAQ Yes captain…"
Yet, despite his "threat", you never got called to go on patrol today. Instead, you spent the rest of the day savoring your wonderful boyfriend's delicious cooking and heartwarming soup that washed down the bitter taste that was lingering on your tongue.
(You'd always scoffed when others called flowers beautiful— because nothing beautiful in Teyvat ever compared to the compassionate, softhearted, warm person sitting across from you, smiling as bright as the sun as you consume his handmade cooking like it were your last meal.
Maybe, just maybe, you could look forward to next spring.)
“Before your fingers could get close to it, however, Illuga had already lifted his bare hands and was gingerly wiping off the blood away with his thumbs, uncaring for the fact that it stained his skin nor that there were tissues right next to the bed for this exact purpose. Well, one of its purposes.”
in which, it takes lohen over a year and a stupid theoretical to realise he's in love with you.
contents. lohen x gn!reader, opposites attract (mma fighter x academic weapon), fluff, crack, hint of angst (academic burnout), modern highschool au, lohen in denial, knights of favonius is basically an mma gym/club, might come off as a bully in hs but he's just trying to ragebait, academic burnout, reader is a cinnamoroll lover and aiming for law school and they're kinda popular (just lots of friends), implied eula x amber, unproofread + i yoloed and got it out the way
a/n. i lowkey hate how this turned out, but it was nice finally writing again !!
tagging. @prettysweet02
Lohen didn't love you.
He does as a friend, of course, but no amount of teasing from Varka could ever make him see you in a romantic light, no matter how much the old man insisted you'd look good together—the old man's only met you once, too.
Even Jean sided with him, ignoring Lohen's protests that he did not have a crush, or anything of the sort, on you. Amber legitimately believed you two were dating, and Eula would simply let her know it was only a matter of time until it happened. Mika was nice enough not to poke fun at him, but his words always came alongside a great deal of uncertainty.
You're just a friend, a rare occurence in his life, outside of training. Nothing more and nothing less.
The first time Lohen met you, was during highschool.
Like any other committed athlete, he didn't take school very seriously. Assignments were submitted with the bare minimum and classes were dedicated to napping and doodling, on the very rare occasions Lohen actually decided to attend.
He had acquaintances but not friends; people he'd play football and basketball with, but no one Lohen would go out of his way for.
Not that it mattered to him. Regardless of association, Lohen poked fun at whoever he wanted, and it was sufficient entertainment and 'companionship' for his school life.
So when he was assigned a partner for an English project, his first thought was how he was going to mess with you a bit. No one liked group projects and quite frankly, he needed some entertainment before forcing himself to do schoolwork.
You were quiet and kept to yourself, sitting towards the front with straight posture rather than retreating to the back of the classroom. He never intended to freeload off of your intellect, but Lohen wanted to indulge in your shock for a bit.
It was nothing personal, Lohen just thought it'd be funny. After a bit of entertainment he'll apologise. University applications were soon, after all, he was still going to do his best, knowing it'd affect you. University wasn't apart of his dreams, but it was clearly one of yours.
"So yeah. 'm not gonna do anything. Got a lot of training to go to. 'm sure you'll be fine because you're a smart cookie, right?"
You stared at him blankly in the school library, as he propped his feet onto the table.
You're processing his words, Lohen thought. You're going to hesitantly nod and avoid his gaze, probably without a word, too. You're way too introverted to snap back or retaliate—
"That's fine." You said, words clear as day. "You were never that...bright, anyways. I understand if this project is too difficult for you."
Lohen's jaw dropped as your pen resumed, dancing across your notebook and building onto the mind map you had laid out.
For someone who spent most of his time teasing others, Lohen had no words. He wanted to be offended, but that wasn't exactly waranted if he was the one who tried to piss you off in the first place.
Word after word appeared in your notebook, birthing sentences and paragraphs. Lohen had no idea how you wrote that fast, nor how you'd be able to read your cursive later.
"It's not hard—it's literally just a book report."
"No I get it, seriously. Not everyone's into reading and that's fine with me. You probably train too much to understand what Jane Austin's talking about."
His cheeks flared and he suddenly forgot how to speak normally. "She's not that complicated. I was joking."
A smirk creased at your lips. "Sure."
Before Lohen could retort, you pushed your notebook towards him, the entire plan already constructed. "You can prove that to me when we get an A on this."
And with that, marked the beginning of your friendship.
Contrary to his first impression, you weren't nearly as mischievious as him. Your weekly meetings when smoothly, as if he hadn't tried to poke fun at you the first time the two of you met.
Neither did you. You kept to yourself, typing away with a calculated fevour, as if your wits were merely a fragment of his imagination.
Aside from the very first study session you had together.
"Everything alright, Imunlaukr? Do you remember what a simile is?"
Lohen scoffed. "I'm not stupid."
"That's not what a simile is." Your pen twirled in your fingers. before ignoring whatever attempts he made at a witty comeback.
You went back to satisfying his expectations of an introverted bookworm, and the group project flew by quickly without trouble.
Lohen himself had no idea how you exactly became friends. The two of you were nothing alike; you were an unexplainable existence to him.
Within the two weeks you had that project together, he noticed your life was composed of a bland monotony, every afternoon was spent at the library without fail. You studied with the same routine and at the same library everyday and revised the same content. He didn't get why you were willing to do all of this; there was no thrill of a fight in studying, nor the same fulfillment as a workout.
"Why do you do this to yourself?" It was revolting to Lohen. Even your weekly meetings managed to bore him, he mustered every shred of willpower to survive those study sessions, thanking the lord for your intellect despite being a dedicated atheist. "I've only done this a few times and I already want to kill myself."
You had shrugged, fingers still typing. "I like good grades."
"Wow." Lohen droned, slouching over the desk as he struggled to piece together a final sentence. He was so close to finishing, yet every combination of words he could conjure simply fell flat, even for his standards. "Nerd."
Yet Lohen continued to follow, accompanying the end of your study sessions at the library, with the flimsy excuse of match analysis after his trainings.
"I don't like the library." Lohen grumbled, plopping down to the empty seat next to you, with takeout in one hand.
The library and studying still sucked, of course. But he had to make sure you didn't work yourself to death, and the library wasn't that far from his gym, anyways.
"You can go then." You quipped, adjusting your reading glasses. "The group project was done last week."
Lohen scoffed, placing the food next to you. "I have to make sure you don't kill yourself studying."
"Didn't you just have training? I thought your gym was in different suburb."
"It is."
You finally peeled yourself away from your notes. "Then why come here?"
It was only a thirty minute walk, and it served as a good cooldown anyways. "Isn't that what friends do?"
His heart skipped a beat. He hadn't realised you never agreed upon that notion. Lohen's friendships mainly consisted of his fellow training partners at the gym, and his coach Varka (if he could even be called that).
But you giggled, eyeing the takeaway containers. "I suppose you're right. I'll hurry up soon and we should eat together."
A victorious smile bloomed across his lips, as his feet swung underneath the table, the smell of fresh rice and stirfry coaxing him.
You liked reading. You were aiming for a law degree at a nearby uni, the one that dominated the rankings, and you preferred English far more than math. You were the type of person who ate their least favourite things first, and saved your favourites for the very end.
(Something about it "being special" and so you could savour it properly. Lohen found it silly. He always ate his favourite bits of a meal first, just in case he ever got full.)
These, among many things, he discovered about you. At first it was simply his company at the library. He'd prop up his phone on a pile of books from a random shelf and watch his MMA matches, with the pretense of 'analysis', when he was instead watching them for pure enjoyment.
On one cold night, he noticed you from the corner of his eye, leaning slightly to where his phone sat. Lohen pulled out his airpod and cocked a brow. "You interested?"
You nodded. "Isn't this what you want to do in the future? Get locked in a cage and beat up another shirtless guy for the world to see?"
Lohen snickered. "Pretty much. I like these guys, especially this one." He pointed to the left. "He's got a real good kick."
The two men threw careful punches and kicks at one another, gauging their distance and range. "I wanna be in their place someday."
"Why not drop out and just commit to it? You would've been pro by now." You commented, wincing at a particularly hard kick. In Lohen's ears, the audience exploded into excitement, a stark contrast with your reaction.
"Are you saying 'm too dumb for school?"
"Don't twist my words."
He chuckled, turning off his phone. "It's a deal with my parents. They didn't want me fighting but I refused to listen. They said they'd support me as long as I graduated and didn't fight while injured. I'd be on TV by now if I didn't have to stay in school."
Lohen remembered that tense dinner and his parent's refusal to meet his eyes. Despite their expectations he agreed, quite easily too. He knew that professional combat athletes were at risk of ruining their career at any moment. He should at least have a highschool degree just to be safe.
"Hmm. Fair. It's a shame you have to wait though. Especially when most athletes are allowed to go straight into competing."
Lohen shrugged. "I'll catch up to them easily." It's not like he had any other choice, anyways.
"If you say so. Make sure you don't forget me when you're famous, okay?"
Your company grew beyond your time together at the library. You eventually began seeking Lohen out at school, always offering him company. If the teacher announced groupwork your gaze would snap to him, even though other, much smarter people wanted to partner with you. During break times you'd come watch him play basketball, cheering him on and filling up his bottle whenever needed.
Lohen never asked nor wished for your presense, but he found himself attached to it over time.
"I need to buy a gift for someone. Can you help me today?"
You asked him one day, as the school bell dismissed everyone, sending the school into relief. Lohen didn:t have any training on, and you seemed to not have anything to revise.
"For who?"
"My cousin. He's into MMA too. I wanna buy him something from the sports store."
Lohen shrugged. "Sure. Sounds easy enough." The mall wasn't too far, and you were fun to spend time with. Rest days were difficult for Lohen. The urge to fight kept itching throughout each one, and Varka often yelled at him for trying to work out during them. Most of them were dedicated to watching MMA matches with a painful envy.
"So, I was thinking of getting him new gloves? He needs new ones and he trains all the time. But there's so many and I have no idea."
Lohen scanned the shelves. "Is he professional?"
"Trying to be."
How did you understand math and not this? "I use these ones." Lohen grabbed the exact model of his. "If that helps."
Huh. Lohen only knew this guy through your words, but he seemed cool. "Well. The weight depends on what he's doing. If it's for heavy training, the heavier gloves are better to avoid injuring yourself and your sparring partners. But for competitions you're supposed to use the light ones."
You stared, confused and almost annoyed.
Your eyes lit up. "Perfect. I'll get these then."
You flinched at the price tag and Lohen cackled. "Pricey, I know. You can settle for handwraps for him. We're still in highschool and I know a guy that likes to design cool ones."
You shook your head, holding the gloves close. "I saved up for this, don't worry."
Impressive, Lohen thought. The bank accounts of students weren't known to be abundant. He brushed it off, you were meticulous with school, it was only natural for the rest of your life to be just as organised.
Lohen accompanied you as you paid, requesting for a bag and a receipt. Together, you walked out, and before Lohen could propose hanging out for longer, you held out the shopping bag.
"For you."
"I'm not your cousin."
"Yeah no shit. These were always going to be for you." You pushed the bag closer, shoving it into his chest. "I saw that yours were beaten up."
Lohen's chest flared up. "I have money—this shit is expensive and my parents are well off. You didn't have to." He just didn't replace them because he didn't like money. If he was going to get a replacement, then it'd be when his current gear is rendered completely unusable.
You shrugged. "But you never replaced them. If it's too early or whatever you can put them away for now. Receipt's there if you change your mind too."
He still refused to accept the gift, allowing you to keep it pressed into his chest. "You don't have to do this for me."
"But I want to. And I don't really care, either." Your hands pounced on his, and for once in his life, his reflexes permitted someone else to exert such control over him. "It's a thank you for all the food and snacks you bring to the library for me."
You ran off, your big school bag awkwardly bouncing on your back.
"I share that crap with you, idiot—" He called out. You always insisted you were full whenever you ate together, and always threatened to throw it out if he didn't believe it. "And come back—"
Lohen sprinted after you, a warmth already settled onto his pale cheeks long before he pursued you.
Lohen hated Valentines Day.
He's not sure why school decided to take it so seriously. The student committee turned it into a charity event, selling anonymous serenades and roses. Lohen found it ridiculous, the songs they selected were generic and boring, and always sung live by people who clearly didn't belong in performing arts.
He shrivelled his nose up at another stupid couple, who were making out in the corridor right as he turned the corner. For the rest of his route to class, he had to push past stupid freshmen holding hands, taking up the entire hallway and having the audacity to act surprised.
When he finally made it to class he dropped into his seat besides you, groaning.
"What happened to you?"
"I hate Valentines Day."
"Really? I think it's nice."
"It's not."
"Aw." You fake pouted at him. "I'll buy you a rose next time."
Lohen sat up. "You actually spent money on this shit?"
"Yeah. I got a rose for my single friends." You unpacked your things, preparing your notebook and stationary. "Next time I'll get something for you. If you're still single by next Valentine's."
He scoffed, going back to slouching on his table. "Ew. No thanks."
Class went by as normal, until the Valentine's Days gifts arrived to your class. Students were dressed in pink and decorated in hearts, with obscene props.
They read out names, handing out roses, chocolates, and candies, before heading where you sat.
You stared up at them with uncertain eyes before they burst out in love song.
From where he sat, Lohen watched you turn red. First, your cheeks began to resemble tomatoes, and then your ears glowed pink, as well. By the end of the song you were clearly flustered, and embarrassed, to the point Lohen didn't even want to tease you for it.
After class, someone else spoke to you before him, yelling across the classroom.
"I wonder who bought that for you—" One of the boys snapped, cackling away with his equally obnoxious friends. "Look at red they are."
Before everyone's eyes could turn on you, you ran out the door, clearly uncomfortable and upset.
Lohen's gaze drifted to where the boys sat, before he slowly stood up and followed.
By the end of the day, Lohen had them on their knees, in a discrete area in the school, begging for forgiveness with bloody noses and bruised skin.
Every plea was ignored as he headed off in search of you. The class he just skipped should be done by now, meaning you were also done with the school day. He spat at the boys before running off. He had no clue who they were and why they ordered you a love song, nor what your relationship with them was, but he discarded his curiosity and searched for you, in hopes of being able to cheer you up.
Your familiar back came into view, near the school gates. His hands pounced on your shoulders and he cloaked himself over you.
"Wanna go to a bakery with me?"
You furrowed your brows. "Aren't you dieting now?"
"It's for you. You're also single and lonely like me."
Wrestling him off, you retorted. "I thought you hate Valentine's Day."
Lohen shrugged. "It's compensation for having to deal with all these stupid couples." A pair of first years snapped their neck towards him, cowering away before shuffling down the hallway. Lohen snickered at the sight, quickly returning to normal before you'd notice and tell him off for being mean. "I've seen all your likes on social media. You keep liking posts about the new bakery nearby."
He carefully watched your expression as it melted into a yield. It soldified into his victory. "Sure then. As long as you're fine with it."
Of course Lohen was. The desserts didn't matter as long as you were there.
"What is love?" Lohen asked out of the blue, after a full day of being driven crazy by obnoxious couples.
You took a few more photos before putting your phone away. "Why're you asking that all of a sudden?"
Lohen scoffed, watching you dig into a cheesecake. "And why aren't you answering me? Don't answer my question with another question."
With your mouth full, you hummed. "Well...I don't exactly know."
"Very useful."
"Shut up." You took a sip of water before continuing. "I've never been in love, and I doubt you have, either."
"Isn't that why 'm asking you?"
Lohen watched you fumble with a strawberry, before slumping into the booth and sighing. The bakery was no exception to the festivity of Valentines Day, swarming with couples both young and old, shamelessly cooing at one another. The sight grossed him out; some even went as far as borderline making out and groping each other.
Half the cheesecake was gone, and crumbs perched on the corner of your mouth. "Why are you asking, though?"
He shrugged. "You're the smartest person I know. And so many fucking idiots are making out everywhere we go."
You hummed, sucking on your fork. "I mean, I don't think relationships and love are the same thing."
Lohen already anticipated a headache, at the complexity of things you explained. But by no means were you the one irritating him.
"Like, plenty of people are just together because they're lonely or whatever. Especially at our age. I think it's just someone you want to be with forever?" You scraped up a bit of cream from the plate with a finger, before licking it up. "But if I had to give it a definition...it depends."
Well no shit were you getting into law, you already allergic to short, straight answers that made sense.
"Everyone likes different things. Everyone has their own goals for the future, and everyone is fundamentally really different. I think love would be when all these things align within two people, and they're attracted to each other I guess?" You listed off the criteria on your fingers. "And of course, adding in the fact that neither parties are toxic or abusive to the other."
"I guess it's about finding someone who aligns in their idea of love with you." You concluded, satisfied with the answer you conjured.
Lohen nodded along. That actually made plenty of sense, compared to the simple 'explanations' of 'you know when you know' or 'you'll feel butterflies in your stomach'.
"But then again, at our age I think it's a matter of hooking up." You deadpanned, grabbing a huge chunk of cake.
Lohen agreed. He had no idea why he was asking in the first place anyways. You were committed to your studies and all he cared was for martial arts. You both had far more important things to dedicate yourself to. "And getting in everyone's day."
You jolted straight. "I know right? Isn't making out embarrassing? Oh and also—" You stabbed a strawberry with your fork. "Open."
He's not being fed by someone else. Lohen covered his mouth. "No. 'm not a baby."
"Oh come on—you haven't eaten anything. And fruits are healthy. You should try the cheesecake too."
"I'll die." Literally. Lohen agreed to his club's harsh diet plans and schedules. "One of my coaches will kill me. Or my friends will."
"Just say I forced it against your will. Which is exactly what I'm doing right now, no?"
Your fork kept insisting. Lohen sighed and opened his mouth, while leaning in closer. The strawberry was sweet, so sweet to the point his nose scrunched and squeezed his eyelids shut. "It's good."
"Try the cheesecake too. Just a bit." You already had some on your fork, holding it up again. "We can walk around and burn it off together."
This time, Lohen relented immediately, deciding that Varka and Jean would never find out, anyways.
Your birthday was coming.
Lohen himself had no idea. He overheard a girl in braided pigtails asking if you were going to throw a party, and if your underclassmen were allowed; to which you smiled and ruffled her hair, saying you'd love to celebrate with her. She celebrated with two blue haired boys, immediately planning on a cake flavour for you. Nilou from biology class already teased your gift, to which you giggled and tried to guess, and apparently Childe, the rumoured rich kid already brought you a gift, courtesy of an overseas trip he was going on for god knows what.
Lohen however, had no idea what to get you.
He knows you read a lot, but he was too unfamiliar with any form of literature to pick out something anything good, nor did he want to blindly trust a random influencers. Anyone knows you care a lot for your studies, but buying a gift related to school is just pathetic, and besides, no top student enjoyed studying, you yourself only did it for the grades and opportunities.
Your birthday month was approaching, with far more ease than Lohen preferred.
He could've asked, but that would've ruined the surprise. It'd ruin the thrill of opening up his gift, and he didn't want to seem like he didn't understand you well enough.
Especially not after you noticed his worn out gear.
Lunchtime was coming to a halt. You were in the library helping people cram for an upcoming test. Lohen played basketball as always. He filled up his bottle at the bubblers, already dreading having to go back to class.
"I dunno what to get for Y/n's birthday."
Lohen leaned ever so slightly, summoning all his will to not whip his head instantly.
The first voice, who he'd assume was Kaveh, moaned to Nilou, who sighed and reassured him. "Anything from Sanrio works. They love Cinnamoroll."
Cinnamoroll. Lohen engraved it in his mind before hurrying away, immediately, typing it into his phone.
A white bunny with pale blue eyes appeared. He recognised her from your bag, you had a little keychain of your head. Lohen always wondered who exactly that was.
This was perfect. Today was a night session at the club, he had time to pop by the mall before training.
So he hid in the back of the classroom as always, carefully researching on his phone for where he could buy you a Cinnamoroll. He was the first to hurry out the door at the teacher's dismissal. Glued to his phone, he made his way to the Sanrio store.
The store was far out of his comfort zone, a myriad of pastel colours and cute animals. Lohen stepped in, clearly out of place.
But luckily, he didn't need help. He instantly recognised Cinnamoroll, a figure with a beach party theme. Lohen was never interested in this kind of merch, but even he found it cute.
The shelf had nothing but Cinnamoroll, too. Thank god she wasn't a fan favourite; his shopping trip concluded smoothly, and he didn't even need to ask the staff to check the back or to provide recommendations.
Lohen smiled. Today was going well, he thought, as he hurried to training.
"Since when did you like Sanrio?" Eula peered over Lohen's shoulder and stared into his bag during stretching. "You seem extra weird to me now."
Lohen pulled out his phone. "It's not for me. For my friend's birthday."
"That makes more sense." She mumbled. "Why buy one of these though?"
"Cinnamoroll. The bunny. She's on this." Lohen pointed to where the bunny stood, holding up a volleyball with her usual pink cheeks. ""My friend loves her."
Eula had never looked at anyone with such disgust. It was a low bar, considering she loved to glare at most.
"First off, Cinnamoroll is a guy—"
"—that's a male??"
Lohen stared at the box with dismay. What the fuck?
"And second, he's a dog."
"Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Shut up and listen." Eula snapped. Lohen zipped his mouth as he savoured every word from the expert in front of him. "Just because he's on the front, doesn't mean it's actually Cinnamoroll."
Lohen's brow furrowed, and Eula sighed before snatching the box. She turned it to the side.
"See here? These are all the things you can get."
The side of the box was adorned with rows of other characters. All Lohen recognised was Hello Kitty, and the rest meant nothing to him.
"Why is Cinnamoroll on the front then?"
She sighed. "It's a blind box, Lohen. It's basically gambling. Cinnamoroll just happened to be the front cover."
Lohen stared at the box, as if betrayed by it. "That's fucking stupid. How these still in business then?" Why not just...buy the character you like? All Lohen gave a shit about was getting Cinnamoroll. If he wanted a gambling addiction he'd go to the casino, or start betting on horse races.
Eula shrugged, finishing up her cooldown stretch. "I dunno either." She shuffled over to where Amber was, talking to her friend as Lohen processed her explanation.
Right. So now he had to go back and buy you an actual Cinnamoroll.
Well done Lohen, well done.
"Alright. Your friend likes Cinnamoroll, right?"
Eula made the very kind offer to accompany him, insisting that Lohen needed the help, and she wanted to browse through the store anyways.
"Plushies are nice. I think the stationary's cute but they're probably not the most practical—" Eula strolled through the aisles, scanning through every product. "Lohen. I didn't mean buying everything I look at."
Lohen stared at the mountain of merchandise he was holding. "But why not?"
Eula scrunched her nose. "That costs like 300 dollars minimum."
He hasn't bought any new training gear, thanks to your stunt from the other day, and he hadn't touched his allowance for this month. Worst comes to worst, he'll use his savings that he's kept aside for when he can finally move out. "So?"
The woman sighed, before helping him carry a plushie. "Love really makes you do funny things, huh?"
"Stop that."
Lohen deadpanned and Eula flinched, surprised at the sudden change in tone. She muttered an apology before inspecting another display to avoid looking at him.
He scratched his nape 'til the flesh was red and throbbing. "Sorry—dunno why I got so defensive." Lohen cleared his throat. "We're not dating. I just want to do something nice..."
It felt pathetic enough that he had to eavesdrop on others' conversations to even gain an idea of what to get you, and how he was relying on another friend. Lohen thought he had to compensate for his shortcomings somehow.
Eula watched the younger boy softly. "I think you're doing great so far."
"I literally had to get your help."
"Eh. You cared enough to go out of your way. I'm surprised you even know Cinnamoroll."
Lohen scratched at his nape again. "Someone else mentioned her—I mean him. So I kinda just stole the idea."
Eula shrugged. "That's fine. You could've asked your friend too."
"That's lame, no?"
"I don't think so. It still means you care and you're willing to listen. It'd rather someone take the things I say seriously." Eula paused browsing the shelves, turning to Lohen with a soft look on her face. "It'll be okay. We'll figure it out together."
Denial danced at the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it down before nodding. He was grateful for her help before he was doubtful of his birthday gift to you.
"Now c'mon." Eula pried another plushie out of Lohen's arms. "You can't go that crazy. I promise I'll help you find something good."
Lohen gave up on protesting and followed her.
Your birthday came, fast.
Lohen avoided spending 300 dollars that night, and with the help of Eula, he managed to piece together what he thought, was a good gift.
Pick a plushie you think suits them. They like collecting them, don't they?
Don't worry about picking out a book if you don't know any, just get a giftcard. That way they can pick whatever they like.
I just spoke to one of the staff members. She said heated face masks are good for strained eyes, so you can throw those in too since they're studying to get into uni.
Write a card too—
Lohen had argued, insisting that he was terrible with words. I'm basically illiterate in front of them. I'll look stupid
Eula scoffed. I don't care.
He had opened his mouth to argue but Eula had cut him off. You said you wanted to pay me back, right? Write the damn card.
So, he did his best. He thanked you for being so understanding, and how cool it was to watch your dedicated to your goals. He thanked your kindness and consideration, and how warm your company was.
Lohen thanked you, for being you. With his messy, but honest handwriting, he put whatever came to mind on the card, throwing the pen across the room out of frustration and returned to his phone.
At 11:59pm, he glared at every passing second. The happy birthday message was typed out beforehand and his thumb hovered over the send button.
Should he send it a bit earlier? What if his wifi is slow? But it'd be embarrassing if he sent it too early by accident, and his desparation would be obvious—
The clock struck twelve, and he hit send, before tossing his phone on the bed. It vibrated in his sheets, Lohen pounced on it immediately.
Thanks Lohen !! how were you so fast? you're usually asleep at this time
Well, today wasn't exactly a 'usual' day, was it? You always went to sleep early, too.
i wanted to be the first to say it. ill see you at school tmr
Lohen stared at the roof before throwing his blanket over his impossibly hot face, as sleep brought him daylight.
At school, you were loved. As always.
Before he could say hi, Nilou had pounced on you, giggling about you were finally 18. Candace joined her, her gift joined the one you received from Nilou, hanging off your forearm.
Soon, your arms were filled with presents and you garnered birthday wishes from both students and teachers alike.
Lohen swore he'd give you his when breaktime came around, but you were swarmed by then too. A group of students surrounded you at one of the benches, singing happy birthday over a cake with candles that Lohen was sure weren't allowed on school campus.
He hesitated, deciding after school was a better time. He didn't know any of these people, and they didn't know him. It'd be awkward if he butted in now, while they were cheering in chorus.
But even when the school day ended, Lohen was embarrassed, and you were unapproachable for some particular reason. You were still surrounded by people, your other friends asked you for your plans tonight and insisted on you to throw a party whenever you could. With burning ears, Lohen really began to ponder if he was going to chicken out.
It didn't matter, since you were already walking towards him with a smile.
"I haven't seen you all day. I missed you."
Lohen tensed at the diction, before concealing it with his gift. "M–me too. I had to give you this." Lohen helped carry your other gifts as you headed somewhere quiet to open his present.
Hopefully, you'll pull out the plushie, and swoon about how adorable it was, before celebrating how it's new addition to your collection. Then, you'll notice the gift card and eye masks, and read the card at home, where he wouldn't have to watch you read it in front of him.
But your fingers brought it out first, gently tearing the envelope open before reading its contents.
Of every fight and training session he'd attended, Lohen's face had never felt so hot. With every moment he spent staring at your face his anxiety was only nourished, yet he couldn't stop watching your every movement, either.
You smiled, thankfully.
"This is so sweet! Thank you, Lohen." You peered into the bag, admiring the contents before putting the card back in. "You got me so much, too."
That statement sounded silly, when someone baked an entire cake for you and another friend brought you a plushie that your arm could barely wrap around.
"And I'm really happy to be your friend too." You said, picking your things up again. "I'm glad I had that group project with you."
Relief washed over Lohen. His muscles finally relaxed, and he no longer felt sick with anticipation. "Me too."
Lohen wiped his palms on his uniform before clearing his throat and hoisting your gifts. "I'll carry these to your place."
"Aren't you training today?"
"Training's cancelled." Lohen held your gifts out of your reach before heading for the school gate. "I need to kill time."
You hurried after him, having given up on declining his help. "You should stop by at my place for some food then."
"Sounds good to me."
Lohen did in fact have training that day. But you didn't need to know that.
It was tests like these that made Lohen grateful he wasn't trying to get accepted into university.
The scarlet 40 donning his test paper was a nauseating sight, even for him. Passing came easily for him normally, but the essay questions on this exam were verbose enough to throw him off, and he managed to stuff up multiple choice. He skimmed through it after training, before stuffing it into his pocket and skipping into the night. He should check on how you were feeling, too.
Speak of the devil, you were sipping on a cup of milk tea near the convenience store, seated on a bench. Lohen hurried over to you, akin to a puppy finding its owner.
You took a final sip before removing your drink and nodding a bit. "I got a 90."
"Hey. How'd you do on the test?" Knowing you, you definitely got an A at minimum, and probably top in the class, as well. But you didn't smile, your eyes were tired and you slouched. "Not good? You seem a bit upset."
"Why would you be upset about that, dumbass?" The general consensus was a fail, or barely passing. Lohen watched a group of honour roll students bicker about mark allocations and rankings, knowing damn well you were smarter than any of them. "You did great, what are you even on?"
"Here—" He held your hand, savouring its warmth before closing it into a proper fist, making sure your thumb was positioned correctly. "—you hold a fist like this, then you can punch me as hard as you want. Beat me as much as you need. You can slap me if that's easier too—the back hand hits harder. I'm sorry—please don't be mad at me."
Lohen scoffed, and he regretted it immediately when he heard you cry. He burst into apology, before panicking. "Shit—I was just being a dumbass, I'm sorry."
You hiccuped and continued crying, without sign of stopping anytime soon.
Lohen hurried into the convenience store for tissues, he clearly wasn't helping. He made sure to grab that one brand of melon ice cream you loved, and added those chewy candies you loved after seeing them displayed at the front.
You calmed down, eventually.
"Sorry..." You blew your nose, the tip turning dry and red. "I know you're right. It's really not bad..."
"Stop apologising, I was the one being a bitch." Lohen remembered to breathe, picking up your used tissues to throw out later.
"You weren't exactly wrong, though." You stared at your hands, one of your fingers donned a large callus, and ink stained were scattered across your palm. "It's just that nothing ever feels enough for me. All I thought about was how I could've gotten much better if I didn't make such a stupid mistake."
It was odd hearing you, out of all people saying something like that, when you've always been more than enough.
"Heck, even if I got an 100—" You sniffled. "—I'd see it as a fluke and think it means nothing since it was a one time thing."
"I guess..." You mumbled, bringing up your knees to rest your forearms and head on them. "I guess I'm just stressed about getting into uni. It's hard to feel good about anything when it's so important to me."
Lohen had no idea what to say nor do. Academics meant nothing to him, and he wasn't even allowed to pursue his career until he graduated. He clearly had no right to comment on your insecurity and worries, you were far more capable.
So he tore the ice cream open and handed it to you.
"To be honest, I'm really useless with this stuff." You took the ice cream, though reluctant, Lohen celebrated internally. "But I'll try my best. Food makes things better. I'll get you more if you want."
(What was he even saying?)
"For what it's worth, you're plenty capable. I can't change how you feel, but I still want to remind you." Lohen stared at an ant on the pavement. It followed its friends in an orderly line that his teachers from primary would've envied.
Lohen was sure he'd look even more stupid if he looks you in the eye while saying all of this. "I think it's good you're always determined to improve. I just hope you won't forget how amazing you are while you do."
"I'm sorry again for making you cry." Lohen added. He'll shut up for real now.
His gaze ventured upwards slowly, finally looking at your face. Your eyes were puffy, but you nodded along to his words, ice cream coating your lips.
You shook your head, licking at the ice cream. "It wasn't you. School just makes me moody sometimes."
"You can still beat me up if needed. I can take it, and it'll be good stress relief."
"No thank you."
He shrugged. "My offer's always open. But seriously." Lohen leaned back on his palms, thankful you stopped crying. "If I can do anything, just tell me. Please."
With wet, wide eyes you looked at him, wiping your mouth before nodding. "Then...can we just talk about something else? Just not school or exams."
"I saw a cat today." Lohen blurted. "It was really fucking chunky."
Lohen cringed at himself, but you laughed, almost choking on the ice cream. "Did you take a photo? I wanna see."
"Probably, hang on, lemme check..."
Together, you sat there, watching all of people of the night pass by while talking about whatever came to mind. Lohen prayed that you'd soon find something to comfort you, since he knew very well he couldn't.
Your first entrance examination was today.
Despite his urges to ask, Lohen never brought up school with you. He itched to check up on your study sessions and desperately wanted to cheer you on, but he pledged to himself to avoid stressing you out even more, and Lohen kept his promises.
The past month or two was torturous, not knowing anything about your preparations. As extreme as it may have seemed, Lohen had occasionally wished he was smart as well, so he could've been of some use to you.
At the crack of dawn, with the excuse of a morning jog, Lohen went to your house, carrying a makeup pouch his mum never used. While shifting his weight on both his feet, Lohen texted you to come out.
Soon, the front door creaked open, with you already in uniform. You gave him a small wave before he bounced up the steps.
"I know you're super busy and shit so I'll make this quick." Lohen held out the pouch to you. "I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to make you feel better for this moment, but I still wanted to do my best to help."
You blinked, fishing through the makeup pouch.
Inside, were random essentials Lohen thought would help. He found the eyedrops you used for your dry eyes at the local pharmacy, and packed those alongside a pack of gum (the ones he liked to share with you; he found them to be good stress relief, so hopefully you would too) and a few heatpacks, after your complaints about not being able to write as fast in the cold. Lohen put a tray of throat lozenges and painkillers, just in case an emergency happened. Although he didn't know what kind of pens you liked, he bought a few new ones as spares for you as well.
It's been a while to see one this bright, but you smiled. Uncontrollably, too. "This is amazing Lohen, thank you so much—"
"—good luck with your exams." Lohen cut you off, accidentally. "You've worked so hard, it's gonna pay off. And if uni doesn't take you then it's probably not worthy going at all."
(Lohen swore at himself for mentioning the possibility of that. He wanted it to sound funny, but now all he did was potentially make you think about not getting in.)
"I won't bother you anymore—"
"—at least let me finish." You zipped the pouch. "Stop saying you're of no help. You're everything." You looked down at the pouch with a tender smile. "You, and everything you've done for me are so precious, alright?"
His heart skipped a beat, and he almost forgot to nod.
"I'll be okay, I promise. I'll stop by your gym to say hi."
Unsure of what else to say, he wished you good luck again and bid you farewell, before ushering you back inside.
Towards the end of the day, Lohen saw you through the glass window.
He cut his current set of squats short, sprinting to the front to greet you. Lohen held a thumbs up and an intrigued expression reserved only for you, before you smiled back and returned the gesture.
"Knew it." Lohen grinned. "Told you."
You beamed. "Did I come at a bad time?"
Lohen shook his head. "Today's just a gym session. And you're always welcome here anyways." He grabbed his shirt and wiped his sweat off, awkwardly waiting for you to respond. "Everything alright?"
You blinked aggressively, gaze flitting. "Yeah, everything's fine."
The door behind him opened, and Mika came out with a sigh. "Why are you running off this time, Lo—oh. Hello."
You politely greeted Mika back, who turned to Lohen and whispered. "Your...?"
"—friend." Lohen snapped. "What were you saying, again?"
Mika glanced back into the gym, where Varka was coming. "Varka told me to come get you."
Great. The old man probably had a lecture in store for him.
But the scolding never came, for Varka immediately went for you instead.
"Ah. Lohen's friend?"
You nodded. "Sorry if I'm interrupting anything, sir."
"You're fine." Varka waved it off. "How can we help ya?"
Lohen interjected. "They're telling me about their exam. Shoo." He wants to spend time with you, not listening to his coach drone on and on.
Varka ignored him and continued talking to you. "For university?" When you nodded, Varka beamed, large chest swelling up with pride despite not knowing you. "Well, good job today, kid. If you ever get stressed come over and beat up Lohen. Buuuut, I can tell you're smart enough to get by fine."
You laughed at the joke, adjusting your bag. "I'll leave the fighting to you guys."
Before Lohen could slip back inside to grab his things and leave with you, Varka boomed, and his proposal to you made Lohen's blood run cold.
"You should come in. I've got photos of this one." A beefy forearm wrapped around Lohen, tugging him closer. "—when he was little and started out."
Embarrassment shot to his face, Lohen writhed and spat. "Too far."
But you accepted, eyes lighting up. "Yes please—"
Before Lohen could protest further, Varka opened the door for you, where the rest of the gym welcomed you with open arms and curiosity.
Training was much easier, knowing that you were done with exams. With every exam, each update you gave him gradually became more confident, and naturally, Lohen was happier.
I'm so happy I'll never have to do chemistry ever again
Thank god sir kept giving us math homework throughout the year...they threw so many curveballs at us lol. dunno why they made the papers harder for us but it's fine
I bent Shakespeare over ᕦ(ò_óˇ)ᕤ
No subject left you clueless, aside from a couple of strange questions, you reported back only good results to Lohen, beaming about it was far less intimidating than expected.
Now, you were on a road trip with your family to celebrate.
The day you're back, Lohen already cleared his schedule to have your own celebration together. He'll let you pick a place to eat, wherever you want and covered by him, obviously.
Only three more days, Lohen reminded himself, as he continued his stretches to wrap up today's session.
"How do you tell if you like someone?" Amber asked out of the blue, while stretching.
Varka cocked a brow and leaned closer. "Are you interested in someone? Who's the lucky guy?"
"You didn't answer the question, Varka." Amber deadpanned as she continued stretching. "And it's not a guy."
Varka stuttered before loudly clearing his throat. "Who's the lucky girl?"
"That's still not an answer." Amber huffed.
Kaeya intervened, as he passed with a box of gear. "Imagine them dating someone else."
Lohen scoffed, looking up from his stretch. "Does that actually work?"
The older man scoffed. "Obviously. If you feel indifferent then it means you're just friends. Plus if you're questioning it, then you probably like them already anyways."
Amber pulled a face as she took a moment to ponder. "Ew. Thanks Kaeya. That worked great."
Lohen and Kaeya watched Varka guess Amber's newfound crush. Lohen quickly went back to stretching, muttering about it being stupid.
"It's true." Kaeya insisted, refusing to let go of it.
Lohen rolled his eyes. "Shut up already."
He kept teasing. 'Imagine it with me and you'll see what I mean by indifferent."
"I can't even imagine you dating someone, Kaeya."
But he could imagine you.
You're intelligent. And pretty. And nice, and comfortable; the kind of person that listened without judgement and tread carefully around the emotions of others. Not to mention you were cute, and attractive. You had a nice smile and something about your face he couldn't name made him want to treasure you. Once you're accepted into university, you'll probably start dating, most likely someone from the same faculty—
Fuck. There's a pang of nausea and envy striking his gut.
For the sake of his sanity and your friendship, Lohen was going to pretend Kaeya's methodology had no validity.
mitya x reader. ooc. written before snezhnaya (pre 7.0). based on pure speculation and vibes. not proofread
the theater was filled with people from all walks of life– noblemen, high ranking fatui soldiers, business men, troupe fanatics, and even a scientist from the royal energy commission who should definitely be on duty and not sneaking around the theater.
but how can mitya deny an opportunity to witness the spectacles of art right in front of him? besides, he's not here to slack off! he's here for inspiration. watching an opera can help him clear his mind and come up with new ideas.
he scanned the area looking for any signs of guards from the armory palace. when he deemed the coast as clear, he rushed over to his seat at the front row.
he was lucky enough to be acquainted with vodyanista as she was able to provide him front row tickets or else he might have to stand at the back or worse, not see the show at all.
he doesn't always ask for front row tickets– in fact he doesn't ask at all. vodyanista really insisted that he watched this show as they had new talents that she wanted him to see. and when the lead soprano herself offers such a deal, who is he to deny?
several musical instruments started to play, signifying the start of the show. as various melodious sounds started to fill the space of the theather, the curtains draw open revealing that of the 'new talent' vodyanista was talking about.
mitya could tell right away (as he was a regular at the theater). he was sure that he hasn't seen your face around the theater before for if he did, then he surely wouldn't forget such beauty nor would his ears ever forget such a euphonious voice.
he was drawn to your voice as would a moth be to light, as a bee would to a flower, as a man be to a siren.
the singer had their eyes closed for the act but when they had opened them mitya couldn't help but to drown in them. everything about you was beautiful in his eyes. your sound, your eyes, the way you moved around the stage as you acted your part, everything. his eyes followed your every move.
only when the lights dimmed and you were no longer in sight did he snap out of his stupor. you were no longer on stage and other actors alongside vodyanista have started acting out their part.
"having fun now, are we?"
"AH! major valeriy! you scared me!" mitya stared back at the man who was glaring at him.
major valeriy's presence here means only one thing: mitya's fun time has come to an end.
"what a coincidence to see you here.... major valeriy." he laughed sheepishly. "i didn't know you were also a patron of the arts."
valeriy with his cold glare crossed his arms. "i'm not. but i sure am a patron for catching slackers not doing their job."
mitya was quick to defend himself "i'm not slacking! i was just... looking for inspiration!"
unfortunately for the scientist, valeriy didn't buy his excuse and had force him to work again.
what a shame, mitya couldn't even see the end of act 1! he had reluctantly followed valeriy out of the theather and back into his workspace.
even though he could only enjoy the first few minutes of the play, mitya was already satisfied by just the pretty face he saw earlier. the thoughts of the singer filled his mind, motivating him to finish his work early to visit the theater and ask about that singer.
didnt see much of mitya fics so i wrote one myself (bringing matters to my own hands)
flowers in millhaven — lohen x reader, SFW, oneshot
summary — he promised to take you to see the flowers in millhaven. for him, you must persist.
themes — tearjerker, frail!reader, firefly-wedding!inspired, reader has a heart condition, fluff + angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort, discussions of disability, pre- mid- and post-expedition, distressed!lohen, theodore involvement, light suggestive themes, they're in love your honor ♡
WC: 3.2k | ao3
You had talked about the upcoming expedition for weeks now.
“You okay?” Lohen asked, his fingers twined with yours. “Need to sit down?”
You shook your head, giving him as warm a smile as you could muster. The sound of your leather shoes was soft beneath that of Lohen’s steel-toed boots, clinking against the stone pavement of Dornman Port as you both ambled along the main path. Today, you had chosen to abandon the wheelchair that you typically took with you on long trips, a routine safety precaution. When you were with Lohen, you knew losing that chair was no issue. He gave you far more endurance than you had on your lonesome, and you knew that he never minded carrying you when you needed it. So you could leave those wheels behind, and pretend to yourself when you were with him, that you were just an ordinary girl.
You wanted to push yourself. After all, this was the last day you’d be able to spend with him before he left for a foreign nation, miles away from you. For as long as you could, you wanted to stand by his side like he always stood by yours.
“...Why don’t we take a break?” Lohen asked, his fingers squeezing your hand. “I don’t mind.”
“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “I want to make it to Millhaven first. Then we can stop.”
“The flowers aren’t going anywhere,” he said, his pace slowing considerably. “We’ve got time, Bun.”
As soon as those words left his lips, he seemed to regret them. He glanced at you, opened his mouth, then awkwardly, clamped it shut again.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
You smiled. Your heart ached, but you didn’t let it show on your face.
“We’ll stop in Millhaven,” you murmured.
He looked into your eyes, hesitating at first; but eventually, he nodded.
He had asked if you wanted him to stay.
“Don’t limit yourself on my account, Lohen. I know how much you enjoy fighting. The expedition will be a great chance for you to do what you love while also growing as a knight.”
He had asked if that would make you happy.
“Of course it would.”
He had his suspicions that you were lying.
“Lohen,” you said, holding a pink Windrest Flower to your chin, “aren’t they beautiful?”
He smirked, nodding in assent. You brought the flower to your nose, and with the most angelic of smiles, took in a deep inhale. Your eyes pressed closed, and with a long, exhaling sigh, you cradled the flower closer. A breeze swept by, sending pink and purple petals along the wind above your heads.
He had finally encouraged you to sit down. With his cape beneath you, shielding your skirt from the grass, you sat with your legs folded at your side. It was a serene feeling, being able to watch you enjoy the outdoors for once, rather than staying cooped inside due to your illness.
The flare-ups had been difficult for you recently. He knew you wanted to spend as much time as possible with him before he left, but he couldn’t stand to interject himself when you needed to focus on healing. Theodore was far better with medical words than he was, and far more adept at assessing your symptoms. Lohen always tried his best to emulate the mannerisms of his old friend, but he could rarely see through your facades. Not until it was too late, and you were either doubled over in pain or passing out in his arms.
He didn’t like bringing it up. You hated your physical weakness more than anything. Even if you smiled and told him it was no big deal, the darkness in your eyes persisted. You didn’t like to rely on anyone. You especially hated being perceived as a burden.
You were no burden to Lohen.
“I wish I could tolerate perfumes better,” you murmured. “These flowers smell lovely. I’m sure they’d make a good fragrance.”
Lohen shuffled across the grass, sitting closer to you. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Bun. You smell plenty good to me.”
You laughed, and with a playful smile, he buried his nose in your hair. Letting out a loud, audible sniff, Lohen subsequently released his breath with an exaggerated, refreshed exhale. Curling his arm around your shoulders, he murmured, “I think this fragrance is my favorite one.”
Your giggles were uncontrollable. He saw how your eyes glanced around, probably making sure that no one else in the flower field was privy to his displays of affection. He delighted in the way you turned to him, and with the shyest of movements, kissed his cheek.
Lohen bit into his grinning lower lip. Squeezing you tighter, he murmured, “Just one?”
You kissed him again, your lips lingering against his skin a touch longer this time. He almost wanted to grab your face and press those lips of yours against his, roll you onto the grass and pepper you with his affections, but he didn’t want to stress you out. When you were overstimulated, your fickle heart gave you problems. You’d get light-headed, and even though you often denied it, he could tell that it caused you pain.
He wished there was more he could do for you. Months ago, when he had finally gathered the courage to tell you his feelings, you had initially rejected him. Your reasoning had broken him.
“I’m so, so happy to hear that, Lohen…I really am…but I don’t think it’d be fair to you.”
You had lamented that you had been afflicted with a heart condition since birth. It wasn’t common enough for there to be a standard cure, and because of that, you were forced to live every day with the knowledge that any could be your last. Your prognosis wasn’t set in stone, but neither was your future.
He had told you that it didn’t matter to him. That you mattered to him.
“…Are you taking pity on me?”
How his stomach had turned when you asked that. He could still recall the way you stroked the arm of your wheelchair, and how desolate that face of yours had become. It hadn’t been the first time a man confessed his feelings to you, but it was the first time that they were genuine.
It made Lohen seethe, thinking that anyone would want to play with that delicate heart of yours.
“Lohen,” you said, your voice softer than the petals of a Windrest Flower.
“Bun,” he replied with a smirk.
You beamed from ear-to-ear, and with the pink flower held to your face, you were ethereal. Those honey-sweet lips of yours moved in perfect harmony when you said, “After you come back, will you take me to Millhaven again?”
His heart throbbed. Kissing the top of your head, he nodded rapidly. He liked when you talked that way—like the future was set in stone. Like you would be there, even if you thought you might not be.
His throat was tight with a dull pain.
“Of course, Bun,” he murmured, trying desperately to ward off his own tears. “I’ll take you to Millhaven. Hell, I’ll take you anywhere.”
“Thank you,” you replied, softer than the morning breeze. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
A tear rolled down his cheek. He hid it in the fluff of your hair.
“Yeah, Bun,” he whispered. “I know you will.”
Oftentimes, you felt like you weren’t enough for him.
“It’s okay,” he had said to you, on that night you thought you could handle. “We don’t have to do it. I don’t wanna stress you out.”
Your flesh craved his. And yet, your body could not handle the weight of your turbulent mind. The last thing you wanted was to flare-up when he touched you, to make him feel guilty for trying to show you his love. You crumbled under the weight of your fears, and Lohen suffered because of it.
He deserved someone stronger. Someone who could keep up with him, join him on those battles of his that he loved so much. Someone who could handle the touch of his palm against their bare skin, without devolving into tears because of it.
Someone who could give him what he wanted.
“Hey, you alright? You look like you’re in pain.”
Theodore, who had visited you once a week for the past few months, set a glass of water at your bedside. Lohen had asked him to keep an eye on you, and you hadn’t realized how much you would come to need it. Your heart had been vile to you lately, making it so that you could hardly go five steps without needing to retreat indoors. For once, you were happy that Lohen was gone. If he were with you, he’d give you those sad, worried eyes again. You hated seeing him so upset over you.
“I’m fine,” you told Theodore. “Thank you for asking.”
Theodore glanced at you. He rummaged through the drawer of your nightstand, pulling out one of your strongest anti-inflammatories, and said, “I think you should take one.”
Your throat tightened, suppressing the dismissive words that you could not say. The ache in your chest was gnawing, and if you continued to let it fester, it would bind you to that bed again.
Theodore passed you the medicine in one hand, a glass of water in the other. You accepted both, giving him an appreciative nod.
“I think that’ll be enough for now,” he told you. “Just make sure you don’t push through the pain, okay? Pain is often a sign of inflammation, which can cause damage if not treated quickly.”
You knew that, but you nodded like you didn’t. Your voice was hoarse. “Thank you, Theodore.”
He nodded. “I’ll be back next week. I’ll bring you Lohen’s letter, too, whenever it comes through.”
Lohen wrote to you once a month. Whenever you cried yourself to sleep, you clung to those letters of his, wishing for nothing more than the comfort of his voice.
Your pain was growing worse. Your fears were growing vaster. But you couldn’t go yet. Not before you saw him again, took his hand in yours, and visited the flowers in Millhaven.
If even for one last time.
“If you need anything,” Theodore said, “just let me or one of the knights know. Don’t try to take it all on your own.”
You smiled. When he spoke like that, you could hear Lohen’s influence in his words.
“I won’t,” you lied. “Thank you again, Theo.”
“No problem. Feel better.”
He waved, and with that, departed. You let out a shaky breath, curling your fingers over your panging heart.
“I’m fine,” you whispered to yourself. “It’s just anxiety. I can get through this.”
For Lohen’s sake, you could get through anything.
Months turned to years. The years stretched on because of his terrible fucking weakness—the way he crumbled beneath the Racher of Solnari—the way he failed you.
“Vice Captain Lohen! You shouldn’t be getting out of bed yet—!”
No, he wouldn’t go a second longer without seeing you. He didn’t care if he was half-conscious, rendered so by the devastating blows he had acquired in Nod-Krai. If pain was his only obstacle, then he would be a coward to stay in that medic bay. You faced pains he couldn’t imagine every day of your life, and you never once complained about them.
When he burst through your front door, shoulders heaving with breathlessness, he saw Theodore on his knees at your bedside, his head turned to the floor.
Ice cold hands gripped at his beating heart. When he looked at you, your eyes were closed, your hand laid to your chest.
“No,” he said, crossing the room, shoving Theodore out of the way, taking your hand in his. “No, no, no. Bun, it’s me. I’m back.”
Your brows twitched. The relief that flooded him made his breath quiver.
“Lohen,” you said, your eyes fluttering open. You smiled at him with those sugar-sweet lips of yours, lips he had dreamed about every night straight for the last five years. “I’m so happy you’re back.”
He smiled, nodding at you. Squeezing your hand, he said, “I’m happy too. I missed you so much, Bun.”
Your eyes closed. Smiling still, you said, “I’m glad. I wanted to see you one more time.”
Relief was replaced by cold, gripping fear. Standing to his feet, he quickly asked, “What are you talking about? You’re fine, Bun, you’re—.” He shot a look at Theodore, barking, “She’s fine, right?!”
Theodore’s eyes were glassy with tears. He brushed his wrist under them, muttering, “I don’t know what to do, Lohen.”
“What the fuck do you…what do you mean?!” Lohen barked, his brows furrowing. “I thought you were taking care of her!”
“Lohen, I—.”
“I fucking trusted you! Fuck, I should have never fucking left—!”
“Lohen.”
Your voice was soft, cutting through his like a knife through a warm slab of butter. The way you smiled at him made his stomach churn, made his knees weak, made him fall to the ground before you, hot tears pouring down his face, and weep.
“Bun,” he cried, squeezing your hand. “Bun, don’t talk like that. You’re fine.”
“I…I’m sorry,” you whimpered, your voice soft and strangled. “I don’t think…I can do it anymore.”
“The flowers,” he sobbed. “I didn’t even take you see the flowers. I got here so fucking late ‘cause I’m—.” His breath hitched. “I’m so fucking weak, Bun. If I had just been stronger—.”
“Lohen,” you said. “This was inevitable. Please, just…just smile for me. Okay?”
“I can’t,” he whimpered, shaking his head, wringing your hand between his palms, hoping he could keep you tethered. “Bun, please stop talking like that. We can go to Millhaven tomorrow. You can pick a flower, and make a perfume. And I’ll carry you if you get tired, and I—I’ll do anything for you, Bun. Please don’t—.” He inhaled a sharp, sobbing breath. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I’m so sorry,” you croaked, your smile falling to a pained grimace. “I don’t want to hurt you like this. But I can’t do it anymore, Lohen.”
“Yes you can!” he yelled, his voice hoarse with anguish. “You did it for five years, Bun! What’s five more?!”
“Please, Lohen. Please just smile at me.”
He couldn’t accept this. To accede to you, to smile for you, would be accepting this.
“Lohen—.” Theodore tried to say.
“Fucking do something!” he snarled, his throat raw, salty tears and loose snot dripping into his mouth. “Don’t just sit there and look at her!”
Theodore’s teeth grit together, his eyes pressing shut. Slowly, he shook his head.
Rage broiled in Lohen’s chest, his lips loosing his words faster than the sharpest of arrows. “I’ll fucking kill you! Theo, I swear I’ll murder you—!”
“—it’s not his fault!”
Lohen’s head snapped back to yours. Your chest heaved and fell with rapid breaths, your brows knit tightly together. When your eyes met, that expression of yours melted away, your teeth digging into your trembling lower lip.
“Please, Lohen,” you repeated. “Please. Just smile for me.”
Your lips curled up into a grin of your own. You smiled like an angel, and he hated it, because he didn’t want you to become an angel, you were his fucking angel, and he—.
“Okay,” he sputtered, lips twitching into a smile. “But if I do this, you have to stay.”
You lifted your hand to his cheek. He felt the brush of your thumb along his eye, right along that mole of his that you loved to kiss first thing in the morning. He had spent five years waiting for you to kiss it again, and he wasn’t about to go five minutes more without it.
“Kiss me,” he begged.
You nodded. He leaned closer, you kissed his eye, and with your hand tucked to his chin, you tilted his face up.
Your kiss tasted like his tears.
You couldn’t let that be his last memory of you.
“I’m tired,” you said weakly.
“Then sleep,” he answered, sniffling through his smile. “I’ll stay with you. I’ll hold you, if you want me to.”
You smiled. “I think I’d like that, Lohen.”
You were fine. You’d be fine. You had waited five years for him, and you wouldn’t look him in the eye and tell him that all that time was wasted, that instead of fighting stupid monsters across Teyvat, he could have been here with you.
He should have been here with you. He should have never fucking left you.
“I’m here,” he whispered, nursing your hand between his. “Let’s go to bed, Bun.”
Theodore slipped out, the front door clicking shut behind him. Lohen rose to his feet and clambered onto the mattress. You rolled onto your side, allowing him to tuck himself against your back, and with a sniffle, he reached over to grasp your hand tightly in his.
“I love you,” he said with a smile.
You let out a soft laugh. “I love you, too, Lohen.”
Your eyes fell closed.
Lohen weeped.
The call of the morning songbirds cut through the glass windows. There was a stillness in the air, one that was stifling and morose.
You woke up.
“Oh, God,” Lohen gasped behind you, his voice sounding strained and hoarse. “Fuck, Bun, don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“I…” you trailed off, your eyes catching the light of the sun through your bedroom window. Outside, you saw a pair of birds sitting along the branch of an old tree, staring at you with their heads cocked in opposite directions. As soon as their beady eyes met yours, they flew away.
“I’m…sorry,” you said slowly. “I thought I…I really didn’t think…”
Lohen turned your face back, crushing his mouth to yours. You tasted the salt on his tongue, felt those hot tears of his drip onto your face. Your heart was hammering, but it wasn’t pain that drove it into your chest. For reasons unbeknownst to you, you felt as though you could handle anything and everything, right then and there.
Was it the fact that you thought you couldn’t, but you did? Were your fears of death and dying unfounded? Did you really stand a chance?
Could you continue to be there for him?
“I love you,” Lohen said between kisses, sloppy and warm. “I love you so much. I’m so fucking happy you woke up.”
When he pulled away from you, you noticed the gaunt bags under his puffy red eyes. You had made him suffer over you again.
Your lower lip trembled. Feeling a tear roll down your face, you whimpered, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He smiled, pressing his forehead to yours. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Except…maybe one thing.”
“One thing…?”
He grinned with his teeth, closing his eyes, which dark circles sat beneath. When he moved his head, the metal emblem dangling from his ear swayed, and in the most endearing voice you had ever heard, he said, “You didn’t kiss my mole yet.”
Your heart was fit to burst, but for the first time in a long time, that feeling did not paralyze you with fear.
“Come here,” you crooned, batting your eyelashes at him. “Let me kiss you all over.”
He let out a cheeky sounding giggle, and when your lips touched the birthmark studding his cheek, he squeezed your hand harder.
“Kiss me all over, huh?” he asked playfully.
You laughed.
“Yes, Lohen. I’m gonna kiss you all over.”
Slowly, Nicole sits at her kitchen table. With a fond smile, she stirs her tea, letting the sugar dissolve into the hot liquid within.
“Sweet child,” she thinks aloud. “It is not yet your time to become an angel.”
a/n: i hope you enjoyed this oneshot! i had considered making it all hurt no comfort, but i decided to be nice this time… ;) haha jk, it just felt better for it to go this way.
anyway, if you liked it, please consider leaving a heart here and one on AO3! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated!
if you would like to be tagged whenever i post lohen x reader, please check my rules here! THERE ARE NOT MANY SPOTS LEFT! thank you!
i was tagged! what did i miss?
your hand, lohen drabble (400+ notes)
masterlist | ask | faq | ao3 | more of this pair
flowers in millhaven — lohen x reader, SFW, oneshot
summary — he promised to take you to see the flowers in millhaven. for him, you must persist.
themes — tearjerker, frail!reader, firefly-wedding!inspired, reader has a heart condition, fluff + angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort, discussions of disability, pre- mid- and post-expedition, distressed!lohen, theodore involvement, light suggestive themes, they're in love your honor ♡
WC: 3.2k | ao3
You had talked about the upcoming expedition for weeks now.
“You okay?” Lohen asked, his fingers twined with yours. “Need to sit down?”
You shook your head, giving him as warm a smile as you could muster. The sound of your leather shoes was soft beneath that of Lohen’s steel-toed boots, clinking against the stone pavement of Dornman Port as you both ambled along the main path. Today, you had chosen to abandon the wheelchair that you typically took with you on long trips, a routine safety precaution. When you were with Lohen, you knew losing that chair was no issue. He gave you far more endurance than you had on your lonesome, and you knew that he never minded carrying you when you needed it. So you could leave those wheels behind, and pretend to yourself when you were with him, that you were just an ordinary girl.
You wanted to push yourself. After all, this was the last day you’d be able to spend with him before he left for a foreign nation, miles away from you. For as long as you could, you wanted to stand by his side like he always stood by yours.
“...Why don’t we take a break?” Lohen asked, his fingers squeezing your hand. “I don’t mind.”
“No,” you replied, shaking your head. “I want to make it to Millhaven first. Then we can stop.”
“The flowers aren’t going anywhere,” he said, his pace slowing considerably. “We’ve got time, Bun.”
As soon as those words left his lips, he seemed to regret them. He glanced at you, opened his mouth, then awkwardly, clamped it shut again.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
You smiled. Your heart ached, but you didn’t let it show on your face.
“We’ll stop in Millhaven,” you murmured.
He looked into your eyes, hesitating at first; but eventually, he nodded.
He had asked if you wanted him to stay.
“Don’t limit yourself on my account, Lohen. I know how much you enjoy fighting. The expedition will be a great chance for you to do what you love while also growing as a knight.”
He had asked if that would make you happy.
“Of course it would.”
He had his suspicions that you were lying.
“Lohen,” you said, holding a pink Windrest Flower to your chin, “aren’t they beautiful?”
He smirked, nodding in assent. You brought the flower to your nose, and with the most angelic of smiles, took in a deep inhale. Your eyes pressed closed, and with a long, exhaling sigh, you cradled the flower closer. A breeze swept by, sending pink and purple petals along the wind above your heads.
He had finally encouraged you to sit down. With his cape beneath you, shielding your skirt from the grass, you sat with your legs folded at your side. It was a serene feeling, being able to watch you enjoy the outdoors for once, rather than staying cooped inside due to your illness.
The flare-ups had been difficult for you recently. He knew you wanted to spend as much time as possible with him before he left, but he couldn’t stand to interject himself when you needed to focus on healing. Theodore was far better with medical words than he was, and far more adept at assessing your symptoms. Lohen always tried his best to emulate the mannerisms of his old friend, but he could rarely see through your facades. Not until it was too late, and you were either doubled over in pain or passing out in his arms.
He didn’t like bringing it up. You hated your physical weakness more than anything. Even if you smiled and told him it was no big deal, the darkness in your eyes persisted. You didn’t like to rely on anyone. You especially hated being perceived as a burden.
You were no burden to Lohen.
“I wish I could tolerate perfumes better,” you murmured. “These flowers smell lovely. I’m sure they’d make a good fragrance.”
Lohen shuffled across the grass, sitting closer to you. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Bun. You smell plenty good to me.”
You laughed, and with a playful smile, he buried his nose in your hair. Letting out a loud, audible sniff, Lohen subsequently released his breath with an exaggerated, refreshed exhale. Curling his arm around your shoulders, he murmured, “I think this fragrance is my favorite one.”
Your giggles were uncontrollable. He saw how your eyes glanced around, probably making sure that no one else in the flower field was privy to his displays of affection. He delighted in the way you turned to him, and with the shyest of movements, kissed his cheek.
Lohen bit into his grinning lower lip. Squeezing you tighter, he murmured, “Just one?”
You kissed him again, your lips lingering against his skin a touch longer this time. He almost wanted to grab your face and press those lips of yours against his, roll you onto the grass and pepper you with his affections, but he didn’t want to stress you out. When you were overstimulated, your fickle heart gave you problems. You’d get light-headed, and even though you often denied it, he could tell that it caused you pain.
He wished there was more he could do for you. Months ago, when he had finally gathered the courage to tell you his feelings, you had initially rejected him. Your reasoning had broken him.
“I’m so, so happy to hear that, Lohen…I really am…but I don’t think it’d be fair to you.”
You had lamented that you had been afflicted with a heart condition since birth. It wasn’t common enough for there to be a standard cure, and because of that, you were forced to live every day with the knowledge that any could be your last. Your prognosis wasn’t set in stone, but neither was your future.
He had told you that it didn’t matter to him. That you mattered to him.
“…Are you taking pity on me?”
How his stomach had turned when you asked that. He could still recall the way you stroked the arm of your wheelchair, and how desolate that face of yours had become. It hadn’t been the first time a man confessed his feelings to you, but it was the first time that they were genuine.
It made Lohen seethe, thinking that anyone would want to play with that delicate heart of yours.
“Lohen,” you said, your voice softer than the petals of a Windrest Flower.
“Bun,” he replied with a smirk.
You beamed from ear-to-ear, and with the pink flower held to your face, you were ethereal. Those honey-sweet lips of yours moved in perfect harmony when you said, “After you come back, will you take me to Millhaven again?”
His heart throbbed. Kissing the top of your head, he nodded rapidly. He liked when you talked that way—like the future was set in stone. Like you would be there, even if you thought you might not be.
His throat was tight with a dull pain.
“Of course, Bun,” he murmured, trying desperately to ward off his own tears. “I’ll take you to Millhaven. Hell, I’ll take you anywhere.”
“Thank you,” you replied, softer than the morning breeze. “I’ll be waiting for you.”
A tear rolled down his cheek. He hid it in the fluff of your hair.
“Yeah, Bun,” he whispered. “I know you will.”
Oftentimes, you felt like you weren’t enough for him.
“It’s okay,” he had said to you, on that night you thought you could handle. “We don’t have to do it. I don’t wanna stress you out.”
Your flesh craved his. And yet, your body could not handle the weight of your turbulent mind. The last thing you wanted was to flare-up when he touched you, to make him feel guilty for trying to show you his love. You crumbled under the weight of your fears, and Lohen suffered because of it.
He deserved someone stronger. Someone who could keep up with him, join him on those battles of his that he loved so much. Someone who could handle the touch of his palm against their bare skin, without devolving into tears because of it.
Someone who could give him what he wanted.
“Hey, you alright? You look like you’re in pain.”
Theodore, who had visited you once a week for the past few months, set a glass of water at your bedside. Lohen had asked him to keep an eye on you, and you hadn’t realized how much you would come to need it. Your heart had been vile to you lately, making it so that you could hardly go five steps without needing to retreat indoors. For once, you were happy that Lohen was gone. If he were with you, he’d give you those sad, worried eyes again. You hated seeing him so upset over you.
“I’m fine,” you told Theodore. “Thank you for asking.”
Theodore glanced at you. He rummaged through the drawer of your nightstand, pulling out one of your strongest anti-inflammatories, and said, “I think you should take one.”
Your throat tightened, suppressing the dismissive words that you could not say. The ache in your chest was gnawing, and if you continued to let it fester, it would bind you to that bed again.
Theodore passed you the medicine in one hand, a glass of water in the other. You accepted both, giving him an appreciative nod.
“I think that’ll be enough for now,” he told you. “Just make sure you don’t push through the pain, okay? Pain is often a sign of inflammation, which can cause damage if not treated quickly.”
You knew that, but you nodded like you didn’t. Your voice was hoarse. “Thank you, Theodore.”
He nodded. “I’ll be back next week. I’ll bring you Lohen’s letter, too, whenever it comes through.”
Lohen wrote to you once a month. Whenever you cried yourself to sleep, you clung to those letters of his, wishing for nothing more than the comfort of his voice.
Your pain was growing worse. Your fears were growing vaster. But you couldn’t go yet. Not before you saw him again, took his hand in yours, and visited the flowers in Millhaven.
If even for one last time.
“If you need anything,” Theodore said, “just let me or one of the knights know. Don’t try to take it all on your own.”
You smiled. When he spoke like that, you could hear Lohen’s influence in his words.
“I won’t,” you lied. “Thank you again, Theo.”
“No problem. Feel better.”
He waved, and with that, departed. You let out a shaky breath, curling your fingers over your panging heart.
“I’m fine,” you whispered to yourself. “It’s just anxiety. I can get through this.”
For Lohen’s sake, you could get through anything.
Months turned to years. The years stretched on because of his terrible fucking weakness—the way he crumbled beneath the Racher of Solnari—the way he failed you.
“Vice Captain Lohen! You shouldn’t be getting out of bed yet—!”
No, he wouldn’t go a second longer without seeing you. He didn’t care if he was half-conscious, rendered so by the devastating blows he had acquired in Nod-Krai. If pain was his only obstacle, then he would be a coward to stay in that medic bay. You faced pains he couldn’t imagine every day of your life, and you never once complained about them.
When he burst through your front door, shoulders heaving with breathlessness, he saw Theodore on his knees at your bedside, his head turned to the floor.
Ice cold hands gripped at his beating heart. When he looked at you, your eyes were closed, your hand laid to your chest.
“No,” he said, crossing the room, shoving Theodore out of the way, taking your hand in his. “No, no, no. Bun, it’s me. I’m back.”
Your brows twitched. The relief that flooded him made his breath quiver.
“Lohen,” you said, your eyes fluttering open. You smiled at him with those sugar-sweet lips of yours, lips he had dreamed about every night straight for the last five years. “I’m so happy you’re back.”
He smiled, nodding at you. Squeezing your hand, he said, “I’m happy too. I missed you so much, Bun.”
Your eyes closed. Smiling still, you said, “I’m glad. I wanted to see you one more time.”
Relief was replaced by cold, gripping fear. Standing to his feet, he quickly asked, “What are you talking about? You’re fine, Bun, you’re—.” He shot a look at Theodore, barking, “She’s fine, right?!”
Theodore’s eyes were glassy with tears. He brushed his wrist under them, muttering, “I don’t know what to do, Lohen.”
“What the fuck do you…what do you mean?!” Lohen barked, his brows furrowing. “I thought you were taking care of her!”
“Lohen, I—.”
“I fucking trusted you! Fuck, I should have never fucking left—!”
“Lohen.”
Your voice was soft, cutting through his like a knife through a warm slab of butter. The way you smiled at him made his stomach churn, made his knees weak, made him fall to the ground before you, hot tears pouring down his face, and weep.
“Bun,” he cried, squeezing your hand. “Bun, don’t talk like that. You’re fine.”
“I…I’m sorry,” you whimpered, your voice soft and strangled. “I don’t think…I can do it anymore.”
“The flowers,” he sobbed. “I didn’t even take you see the flowers. I got here so fucking late ‘cause I’m—.” His breath hitched. “I’m so fucking weak, Bun. If I had just been stronger—.”
“Lohen,” you said. “This was inevitable. Please, just…just smile for me. Okay?”
“I can’t,” he whimpered, shaking his head, wringing your hand between his palms, hoping he could keep you tethered. “Bun, please stop talking like that. We can go to Millhaven tomorrow. You can pick a flower, and make a perfume. And I’ll carry you if you get tired, and I—I’ll do anything for you, Bun. Please don’t—.” He inhaled a sharp, sobbing breath. “Please don’t leave me.”
“I’m so sorry,” you croaked, your smile falling to a pained grimace. “I don’t want to hurt you like this. But I can’t do it anymore, Lohen.”
“Yes you can!” he yelled, his voice hoarse with anguish. “You did it for five years, Bun! What’s five more?!”
“Please, Lohen. Please just smile at me.”
He couldn’t accept this. To accede to you, to smile for you, would be accepting this.
“Lohen—.” Theodore tried to say.
“Fucking do something!” he snarled, his throat raw, salty tears and loose snot dripping into his mouth. “Don’t just sit there and look at her!”
Theodore’s teeth grit together, his eyes pressing shut. Slowly, he shook his head.
Rage broiled in Lohen’s chest, his lips loosing his words faster than the sharpest of arrows. “I’ll fucking kill you! Theo, I swear I’ll murder you—!”
“—it’s not his fault!”
Lohen’s head snapped back to yours. Your chest heaved and fell with rapid breaths, your brows knit tightly together. When your eyes met, that expression of yours melted away, your teeth digging into your trembling lower lip.
“Please, Lohen,” you repeated. “Please. Just smile for me.”
Your lips curled up into a grin of your own. You smiled like an angel, and he hated it, because he didn’t want you to become an angel, you were his fucking angel, and he—.
“Okay,” he sputtered, lips twitching into a smile. “But if I do this, you have to stay.”
You lifted your hand to his cheek. He felt the brush of your thumb along his eye, right along that mole of his that you loved to kiss first thing in the morning. He had spent five years waiting for you to kiss it again, and he wasn’t about to go five minutes more without it.
“Kiss me,” he begged.
You nodded. He leaned closer, you kissed his eye, and with your hand tucked to his chin, you tilted his face up.
Your kiss tasted like his tears.
You couldn’t let that be his last memory of you.
“I’m tired,” you said weakly.
“Then sleep,” he answered, sniffling through his smile. “I’ll stay with you. I’ll hold you, if you want me to.”
You smiled. “I think I’d like that, Lohen.”
You were fine. You’d be fine. You had waited five years for him, and you wouldn’t look him in the eye and tell him that all that time was wasted, that instead of fighting stupid monsters across Teyvat, he could have been here with you.
He should have been here with you. He should have never fucking left you.
“I’m here,” he whispered, nursing your hand between his. “Let’s go to bed, Bun.”
Theodore slipped out, the front door clicking shut behind him. Lohen rose to his feet and clambered onto the mattress. You rolled onto your side, allowing him to tuck himself against your back, and with a sniffle, he reached over to grasp your hand tightly in his.
“I love you,” he said with a smile.
You let out a soft laugh. “I love you, too, Lohen.”
Your eyes fell closed.
Lohen weeped.
The call of the morning songbirds cut through the glass windows. There was a stillness in the air, one that was stifling and morose.
You woke up.
“Oh, God,” Lohen gasped behind you, his voice sounding strained and hoarse. “Fuck, Bun, don’t ever scare me like that again.”
“I…” you trailed off, your eyes catching the light of the sun through your bedroom window. Outside, you saw a pair of birds sitting along the branch of an old tree, staring at you with their heads cocked in opposite directions. As soon as their beady eyes met yours, they flew away.
“I’m…sorry,” you said slowly. “I thought I…I really didn’t think…”
Lohen turned your face back, crushing his mouth to yours. You tasted the salt on his tongue, felt those hot tears of his drip onto your face. Your heart was hammering, but it wasn’t pain that drove it into your chest. For reasons unbeknownst to you, you felt as though you could handle anything and everything, right then and there.
Was it the fact that you thought you couldn’t, but you did? Were your fears of death and dying unfounded? Did you really stand a chance?
Could you continue to be there for him?
“I love you,” Lohen said between kisses, sloppy and warm. “I love you so much. I’m so fucking happy you woke up.”
When he pulled away from you, you noticed the gaunt bags under his puffy red eyes. You had made him suffer over you again.
Your lower lip trembled. Feeling a tear roll down your face, you whimpered, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He smiled, pressing his forehead to yours. “There’s nothing to be sorry for. Except…maybe one thing.”
“One thing…?”
He grinned with his teeth, closing his eyes, which dark circles sat beneath. When he moved his head, the metal emblem dangling from his ear swayed, and in the most endearing voice you had ever heard, he said, “You didn’t kiss my mole yet.”
Your heart was fit to burst, but for the first time in a long time, that feeling did not paralyze you with fear.
“Come here,” you crooned, batting your eyelashes at him. “Let me kiss you all over.”
He let out a cheeky sounding giggle, and when your lips touched the birthmark studding his cheek, he squeezed your hand harder.
“Kiss me all over, huh?” he asked playfully.
You laughed.
“Yes, Lohen. I’m gonna kiss you all over.”
Slowly, Nicole sits at her kitchen table. With a fond smile, she stirs her tea, letting the sugar dissolve into the hot liquid within.
“Sweet child,” she thinks aloud. “It is not yet your time to become an angel.”
a/n: i hope you enjoyed this oneshot! i had considered making it all hurt no comfort, but i decided to be nice this time… ;) haha jk, it just felt better for it to go this way.
anyway, if you liked it, please consider leaving a heart here and one on AO3! (˶>⩊<˶) ♡ reblogs and comments appreciated!
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your hand, lohen drabble (400+ notes)
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