aether is telling you about his newest expedition in nod krai, mentioning things like columbina, and how much paimon loved their food. his new friends, new enemies, and a clue to his next journey... it was both breathtaking and hitching all at once and-
"and... oh, well you know how they are i- mmh!" it was already too late when your lips were on his, aether's eyes widen before easing into you.
he hadn't even realized it but he already had cupped your face and was already trying to lean into you for more. "huh? why'd you stop?"
kaveh is ranting to you about his most recent client, i mean, his infastructure was astounding, and certainly nothing went wrong with the prototype, who the hell just cancels out of nowhere?! what was this jerk even thinking??
"it's just- aarrgghh! infuriating!" you could see the steam coming out from his ears, his eyebrows quirking in his usual way. a small pout forming, and when his mouth finally was about to move- "an- mmm..."
he already had his hand tilting your chin upwards, letting out a pleased groan. "ah, leaving way too soon. you trying to tell me to shut up, or something?"
dottore and you were just walking in silence, silence that didn't include him. because for.. you stopped counting, but probably around fifteen minutes of just talking about his newest plan. something about... well probably snezhnaya and the gods again. you didn't really know.
"hah, can't you believe it. could mortals really be as... stupid?" - "what about me?" - "i know you aren't stupid enough to think you're includ-"
placing your lips on his briefly was enough for him to stop, and let you take the lead for a few steps. "you coming, zan'?" - "you... are interesting."
pantalone loves the time off he gets because god, he barely gets time off anymore. especially with the new currency plan he has in mind, and now he had the time to tell you all about it! so, what happens when that's not all you wanna hear from him?
"you see the pinnacle of my plan, yes? it's something i've been working on for a wh- mmm," he already closed his eyes, he was taken a bit aback yet he found himself already wanting more.
trying to lean in for one more before you pull away toooo far... "hmm? you started this, do you really wanna run off?"
itto being itto was him talking about his newest beetle, checking out how how its size would make any other challengers cower, you couldn't really find yourself wanting to listen. not when you hadn't seen him in a week and this is what he was doing?
"can you believe it, babe?! i beat him before ten second even hit the clock, i'm just amaz- mmhmmm! mmmh..." before he knew it he already (and very nervously) placed his arms around your waist.
"good... lord, you taste... nice, baby, is that the chapstick i got you last week? ack! okay, sorry!"
cyno is haha very tediously telling you a joke. and you just couldn't take it anymore so you just leaned in and made sure it was a gesture he wouldn't forget about and would stop telling you about how a shoe made out of a banana its called a slipper.
"wasn't that funny? why... babe, why aren't you laughing, beautiful? did i- mmmh." for how 'funny' his jokes are, he finds his hands caressing the sensitive skin of your lower back. pulling your closer by your waist.
"mmm, you... you are something." - "better than your jokes?" - "ill have to consider, you're a good kisser."
tighnari was just talking and talking and talking about the mushrooms he had been recently using for the dishes he had been so insistent on cooking. in which he did but realized pretty late that you had left that dish untouched, thinking of touching something else instead.
"and, you know how often these appear? how lucky are we that we have them growing our garden? baby? are you li- mmh!" you could already visualize his ears pointing upwards in the shock, only to feel him lean into your lips a little more.
"you... you are so... you are gonna be the death of me."
durin has you leaning on his shoulder while the rest of your friends danced in the middle of angel's share. sharing apple juice with each other that felt even more romantic and cheesy than it should've.
it was cute in a way really, it got to a point where varka and albedo have commented, and now here he was. your favorite dragon talking about his newest conch he-
"-found in liyue, isn't that great? hat guy took me out there, i wish you were there. all the views reminded me of you. so here, keep the co- what are y- mmn..." subconsciously his wings flap at the sudden warm sensation on his lips.
"y- you... what?"
lohen is busy talking to you about his latest encounter with the abyss. ringing an arm around your shoulder as he shows you around, pulling you close and super distinctively inhales your scent in. i hope you know that he cuts off a lot of his sentences just to tell you how nice you smell and look and are today.
"geez. you're amazing, i can't help but appreciate y- mmmn! mmn..." you can tell he was a little surprised but pulls you in more. it really get to a point where you need to pull away to breathe.
"oh? you seem excited. now you wanna back away."
varka is the kind of guy to pull you in by the waist, and starts to trail his kisses down your neck that turns to bites. has his free hand already cupping your face. it's so habiskjdasdjkhsa that the guy who was trying to hit on you just a moment ago. he would've just told the guy to fuck off but he doesn't mind this either.
"oh? what makes you think they aren't take- huh? what's that ba- mmn!" taken offguard the moment he feels you on him but again, hey. he likes showing off what's his.
Varka is bigger than you by a mile. I mean, everyone in Monstadt knows that this man is an absolute unit.
But, by the sevens above, the man never seems to realize. Sometimes, it's like it's his first day on Teyvat. It ranges from accidentally hitting the top of his head on a doorway when he forgets that some building's doors are just a bit shorter than what he's used to, to acting like no one can see a hunk of a man slowly creeping out of the Knights of Favonius HQ. Or hell, sometimes he'll even knock over some stuff when he moves when the room is just a bit too small and cramped for him.
And, you swear, It's even worse when it's just you two. When the two of you are in your shared bed, finally settling down for the night after busy days, Varka will plop himself right on top of you and he won't move.
It nearly knocks the wind right out of you, but when you see his face, relaxed and quite happy...you don't have the heart to tell him to get off.
You don't have the heart to tell him that, no, you're 250 pounds of pure muscle, you cannot lay on me. or; no, you cannot be little spoon, my arms can barely fit around you.
So you just continue on with it, silently admiring just how...stupidly ignorant he can be to things like that.
Varka doesn't realize just how big he is compared to you.
But...He definitely uses his size to show off to people or to intimidate others.
So, you're convinced he knows he's big, he just doesn't know that he's massive.
Husband!Flins who has a habit of appearing beside you without making a sound. You’ll be looking for something around the house, muttering to yourself about where you left it, only to turn around and find him standing there with the exact thing in his hand. He never seems particularly surprised by this. He simply holds it out to you with that faint, knowing smile.
Husband!Flins who finds your ordinary human habits endlessly amusing. Not in a mocking way, but with genuine fascination. He’ll watch you get excited over a particular dessert or complain about the weather and look almost entertained by how seriously you take such little things. After all these years, humanity still manages to surprise him.
Husband!Flins who is remarkably difficult to embarrass, which makes teasing him almost impossible. You can make some ridiculous comment expecting him to get flustered, only for him to look at you with that perfectly composed expression and respond with something so unexpectedly clever that you're the one left speechless.
Husband!Flins who remembers conversations you had months ago far more clearly than you expect. You’ll casually mention something you wanted once and completely forget about it, only for him to bring it up later as though the conversation happened yesterday. He doesn't make a point of remembering. He simply does.
Husband!Flins who becomes strangely fond of hearing you talk while he works. It doesn't matter whether you're telling him an elaborate story or rambling about something completely insignificant. He'll continue whatever he's doing, occasionally humming in acknowledgement, but you can always tell he's listening. The lighthouse may be quiet, but he never seems to mind your voice filling it.
Husband!Flins who has an uncanny ability to tell when you're pretending to be fine. He won't immediately question you or demand an explanation. Instead, he'll simply stay nearby, making himself available without crowding you. Eventually, when you're ready to talk, you'll find that he's already been waiting.
Husband!Flins who occasionally lets his old-fashioned manners become almost ridiculous with you. He'll offer you his arm even when you're only walking across the room together, pull your chair out despite you insisting you can do it yourself, and somehow make handing you a cup of tea feel like a formal occasion. He finds your amused reactions more entertaining than he'll ever admit.
Husband!Flins who secretly enjoys when you interrupt his stories. He'll be halfway through some elaborate tale when you suddenly point out that he's told you this one before, and instead of being annoyed, he'll pause with a little smile and say that perhaps he simply enjoys telling it to you. It's one of the few ways he'll openly admit that he likes your company.
Husband!Flins who is much more mischievous than people would expect. His expression rarely gives him away, so you'll only realize you've been teased after the fact. He'll make some perfectly innocent-sounding remark, watch you slowly realize what he meant, and look entirely pleased with himself.
Husband!Flins who treats your belongings with almost absurd care. If you leave something somewhere, he won't casually toss it aside or move it without thought. He'll remember exactly where you tend to leave things and quietly return them there, because he's learned that your little habits are part of the life you've built together.
Husband!Flins who doesn't need constant conversation to feel close to you. There can be long stretches where neither of you says anything, simply sitting together while the evening passes. He seems especially comfortable with that kind of quiet, occasionally glancing over at you as though your presence alone is enough to keep him company.
Husband!Flins who, despite everything that has made him accustomed to solitude, never treats your presence as something ordinary. He may be perfectly capable of spending endless nights alone, but whenever you choose to sit beside him, he'll make room without hesitation. And perhaps that is the closest Flins ever comes to admitting just how much he treasures having someone beside him.
The bitter cold has seeped into your bones, and the only thing that seems to quell the frost is Alyosha's arms. Though maybe that's just your crush on the hunter talking.
mutual pinning, yearning, fluff, tugarin mentioned cause hes a good boy, one bed scenario, alyosha's a sweetheart, ambiguous relationship
w.c ⤷ 2.2k ˎˊ˗
Your teeth chatter as you finally get past the wooden door of Alyosha's house, leaving the frigid blizzard outside. Snow clings to the fabric of your hood and coat; it will soon melt in the warmth from the Kreshnik Kristal burning in the small furnace. Your limbs still feel frozen, cheeks and nose flushed from the bitter cold. Tugarin funnels between Alyosha's legs as they enter the home with you, tracking in some snow that would soon turn into a puddle.
"Ah, Tugarin, don't shake!" The dog shakes the remaining snow off its fur, flinging it onto both you and Alyosha. He sighs, ensuring the door is shut tight to keep the cold out. "We made a mess while rushing in here..." He complains, brushing the fuzzy hood off his head to rest on his back. Alyosha seemed almost unfazed by the cold— his experience as a hunter has helped him build up a resistance to the Snezhnayan cold— but you don't miss his frost-bitten cheeks and shivering breath.
"I'll help you clean it up, we should've dusted off outside before we came in." His honey eyes land on your shivering form as you offer assistance, but he quickly shakes his head, approaching you. "No, I'd rather you warm up." His gloved hands brush the snow off your shoulders with a firm swipe. "This snow is nothing for me. You, however... Please go sit in front of the furnace." The tone of his voice holds an affection you may never have heard before. His hands rest on your shoulders, and you can't help but pause and stare at his face. He was so kind and extremely giving— always putting the ones he cares about first.
With a nod, you turn to the warm light emitting from the furnace and make your way over. You can hear Alyosha behind you sweeping up the powdery snow, shuffling the pile out through the smallest crack of the open door possible. Tugarin trots up next to you as you hold your hands in front of the fire, sniffing you for a moment before he decides to sit and bask in the warmth with you. Soon, the intensity of being out in the blizzard calms, and you come to your senses.
Alyosha creeps into your mind during the silence. A kind and hardworking man, one you wholly trust. Hes a talented hunter, and he has compassion for those around him, like a burning flame. You've grown close with him since you arrived in Snezhnaya; he offered you help when you needed it most, and now you've been tagging along with him ever since.
Every time you accompany him when he goes hunting, you're always impressed not only by his rifle skills but also by his communication and teamwork with Tugarin. He and the adorable dog are inseparable, and after he told you the story about when he first found his fuzzy companion, it only made you realize that his kindness is not something he uses to gain the upper hand, but rather an extension of his heart. He does whatever it takes to make ends meet, constantly taking up random jobs at the Korolevskiy Theater to gain a bit of extra mora, just to give it to those who need it most. You can't help but admire him— he's worked so hard and done so many good things. And not to mention, he certainly has a pretty face.
You're torn from your thoughts when the man you've been daydreaming about sits down on the floor next to you, closer than you thought. He sat with one knee up, his other leg resting on the floor as he absorbed the heat from the furnace. You glance over at him, watching the warm, flickering light bounce off his rosy cheeks and amber eyes. With reluctance, you turn your gaze back to the soothing firelight, curling your shoulders in to preserve heat.
Unbeknownst to you, you had leaned closer to Alyosha while your mind wandered off, your shoulder brushing his a few times before you noticed. The warmth that was shared with the touches made you want to cuddle up to his side— but now's not the most appropriate time— not when your mind has been occupied by him these last few weeks.
"There's no harm in huddling up for warmth." You turn to him, finding that he's already looking at you; his expression is soft with gentle eyes. "Kreshnik is limited, but I still want to keep you warm." You feel his arm around your back, pulling you by the shoulder into his side. Almost instantly, you could feel his body heat seeping into you. He was so warm, like a furnace of his own.
With the added proximity, your faces were close enough that you could count the freckles scattered on his cheeks. You both held eye contact for a moment longer than it should've lasted, watching his gaze flicker lower to your lips before turning back to the furnace. "Mh. You're warm." You state quietly as you snuggle a little closer, leaning your body weight into him. He happily obliges, his arm around your back holding you a little tighter than before. His familiar scent is stronger now, woody and earthy tones accompanied by a permanent scent of cold air.
Alyosha chuckles at your statement, and you can feel the way his chest vibrates with laughter. "I run warm. Helps me with the cold quite well." You hum in acknowledgement, a comfortable silence falling over you both.
Like clockwork, your mind wanders back to him, only this time, you can't stop thinking about how he initiated contact with you. And it wasn't something as simple as earlier, when he brushed the snow off your shoulders; instead, he pulled you close to him to keep you warm. You've already forgotten about the cold that still lingers in your limbs, too focused on soaking up the feeling of his arm around you, and your sides pressed together, flush.
You're only taken out of your thoughts when he rubs your shoulder gently, falling into a slow rhythm. His touch is so gentle and warm that you can feel his deft, meticulous manner through it alone. Exhaustion catches up to you; finally becoming warm after freezing all day makes you drowsy. Your head slowly falls forward before you catch yourself dozing off, jolting back upright. Alyosha's hand around your shoulder pulls you the slightest bit closer.
Instantly, you perk up and get reminded of the proximity. You think about how hes keeping you close, making sure you're pressed against him so you can feed off his warmth. Before you know it, you're dozing off again, your head drooping towards him as sleep starts to overtake your senses. His soft, faded hair brushes against your cheeks as your head bumps into his— once again, you jump awake to prevent yourself from crashing into him.
"You tired?" Alyosha's gentle voice calls out as you turn to lock eyes. He can tell you're about to pass out any minute now. "Yeah. Sorry— I'm dozing off." He only shakes his head, his hand rubbing your shoulder before he rises to his feet. His touch lingers on your body; the lack of his warmth makes you wish to fall right back into his arms. You look up at him from the floor to find his gloved hand outstretched for you. "Head to bed. I'm gonna clean up a few things, but you don't need to wait for me."
You place your hand in his, and he helps you rise to your feet. "You always have something to do... You're sure I can't help?" You ask, noticing the way his hand lingered in your grasp for a moment longer than necessary, watching as he pulled away and walked over to his desk cluttered with a few random things. "Don't worry about it— I've got it all covered. You just get your pretty little self to bed, yeah?" You can feel your neck and cheeks warm from his endearing words, but you're quick to listen— almost embarrassingly so. "Ah, okay."
So, you spend a few minutes shedding the outer layers of your attire. Gloves, a thick coat, and snow boots, leaving you in the inner layers of your outfit. As you're pulling the thick blankets back from Alyosha's bed, you're brought back to the first time you slept here. It was embarrassing—he offered you the bed and chose to sleep on a blanket on the floor. You fought with him for longer than necessary, scooting over and giving him space to get into the narrow bed next to you. His explanation for refusing was to keep you comfortable; he was worried that being so close would not be as comfortable or suitable. Though when he finally caved and laid next to you, facing away, he realized that all his concerns were for nothing, as you both woke up feeling refreshed and well-rested.
You smile as you slide into the sheets. Hes so kind, always respectful, and such a sweetheart. The blankets were cold to the touch, and sent a small shiver through you as you laid down, pulling this thick quilt up to your chin.
As you lay, your eyes wandered to Alyosha, who was busy turning off lamps, making sure Tugarin was all set for the night, and removing his outerwear. You turned on your side to face his back— he was pulling his leather gloves off and setting them on the shelf, following his hood and navy coat. You force your eyes to stay open despite the sleep tugging at them— you want to watch him a little while longer. He was handsome, terribly so... every glance made your heart rate spike.
He steps out of his boots and his thick winter trousers, rummaging about in a drawer to change into some softer pajama pants. Even in the darkness of the home, you watch his idle movements. You can tell hes tired, stumbling over his feet as he pulls the warm pants over his ankles and up to his hips. He leaves his black turtleneck sweater on; even with the furnace going, it gets freezing cold at night. When Alyosha turns around, your eyes meet his.
"You left your earmuffs on." Your voice is weak with sleep, breathy, and barely audible as you fight the desire to shut your eyes. He chuckles, hands coming up to remove the fuzzy earmuffs from his head. "You've been watching me change?" His tone is teasing and lighthearted; you only bristle and pull the blanket higher, humming.
After tossing the earmuffs aside, he exits your vision as he comes around the side of the bed. Tension pulls at the blanket as he slips into bed, his weight dipping into the mattress. It was awfully intimate—for two friends, that is. You could feel his presence at your back, and you swear you could feel the warmth radiating from him as he adjusted with a sigh.
Your eyes finally close, and you can't help but wish to feel his embrace again. Even if you only experienced it for give or take ten minutes, you already find yourself addicted to the warmth and softness of him against you. You reminisce about the firmness of his grip, the way his hand rubbed your shoulder so affectionately—is this how Alyosha is with everyone? Does everyone get the snow brushed off their hair by him? Do they get compliments that warm you faster than Kreshnik Kristal? Does he let just anyone snuggle with Tugarin?
The overthinking melts your brain, and you sigh as you sink your head further into the pillow. It smells like him, like the plain soap he uses—even with generic shampoo, his hair is still soft and fluffy. The relationship between you and Alyosha is something that makes you ponder your life decisions. You guys are close, close enough to share food, a bed, and clothes sometimes, even body heat... But not close enough to reach out and stroke his handsome face, not close enough to give in to your desires and press your lips against his—how cruel.
You've been wracking your brain so much through the exhaustion that you're now dreaming of him; his arms wrap so tenderly around your waist as his chest presses to your back, knees slotting against yours as his nose finds the nape of your neck. His fluffy hair tickles your neck as his warm breath puffs against your skin; it all felt so real, so warm.
"Comfortable?" Alyosha's raspy yet soft voice reaches your ears, only for you to realize that you were not stuck in dreamland but rather woken from sleep. Your eyes flutter open, and you glance down to find his arm strung over your waist. This was all real; he felt so incredibly warm, pressed to your back, so firm behind you as his arm held you tight. All you can do is let out a soft breath and nod.
"Good." His voice trails off quietly, the sound dissipating into the dark room. Amidst your half-asleep mind, your hand searches and rests on his arm, keeping him tucked close to you. He nuzzles his nose into your neck, lips brushing over the skin delicately. "I'm not leaving." He mumbles the reassurance, his leg hooking over yours. "I'm right where I wanna be."
ouurgrhhh alyosha is so adorable im getting cuteness aggression
౨ৎ GN reader, fluff, established relationship, non-sexual nudity, alhaitham is a lovesick fool
Despite his stoic nature, Alhaitham is an avid lover of kisses.
It's a habit that his grandmother instilled in him from a young age. Her hands, frail and wrinkled, would grab him by his collar with surprising strength before he could leave the house.
"How could I let my grandson leave without a kiss?" her voice would boom before she smothered his cheeks with her lips. And while he would grumble and whine about it as a child, he finds himself missing her embrace from time to time.
It's a tradition that he now passes on to you. Every morning, you're greeted by the faint press of his lips against your forehead and then the quiet sound of his laughter as you scrunch your nose at the ticklish feeling.
"Good morning, sweetheart," he whispers, leaning down to give you another kiss, this time on your lips. You mumble something incoherent in response, tugging the covers over your face in an attempt to fall back asleep.
"I'll see you later," he calls from the doorway of the bedroom. The only reply he gets is a thumbs up, your hand sticking out from the mess of blankets.
Some days, you manage to wake up before him, and his dreams are interrupted by the sound of the shower running.
You're scrubbing shampoo into your scalp when the shower door is suddenly yanked open.
"Fuck, you scared me," you shriek, glaring at him when his eyes wander down your body. "I thought my heart was gonna fall out of my body and onto the floor."
"I have a meeting," he announces as if it's the most important news in the world. "Goodbye kiss?"
You roll your eyes but oblige, pulling him into a deep, soapy kiss. "Goodbye, menace," you pull away with a scowl, flicking water in his face. He slaps your ass in retaliation.
Despite the interrupted showers and sleep, you like how affectionate he is. It makes you feel special because the seemingly apathetic Alhaitham somehow opened his heart up to you and only you. But it's also a sign of his warm upbringing—a sign that someone was there to love him when his parents couldn't—so you always indulge him with his kisses.
(Even though it can be an inconvenience sometimes.)
You scream as the bathroom door slams open. Alhaitham leans against the doorframe with a smirk on his face, and you know what's coming next.
wc: 2k — happy birthday to the best genshin character ever
In all your years of dating Ajax, never once have you managed to outperform him in the art of gifting.
It’s not that you weren't trying enough. It’s just that he seemed to have a stack of gifts prepared for absolutely every occasion and every festivity, his competitive nature easily shining even through the most mundane and simple of tasks.
Not only that, but what could you give to a man with pockets deep enough to buy anything and everything one could ever wish for? You knew his tastes to a T, but nothing was lacking in his fishing or weaponry equipment, even less something that a humble gift of yours could fix.
You thought that for his birthday, surprising him with breakfast in the morning would be your best bet. Who doesn’t like to be reminded it’s their special day and get pampered first thing in the morning?
...Is what you thought, only to find him greeting you with breakfast already done every single year like it was your birthday instead.
Really, what was there for you to do?
No matter how much you planned ahead or how early you attempted to wake up, Ajax would always beat you to it. And today was no different.
You could already feel his gaze on you before your eyes even fluttered open and you regained consciousness, shades of blue greeting you early in the morning while absorbing the mellow light peeking between the blinds, never reflecting it.
Today was different, you ultimately realized as you kept staring at each other. His hair was still tousled from sleep, everything was just and exactly as you left it last night, and the mouthwatering smell of syrnyky was not present to lead you to the kitchen like the sweet siren song that it usually was.
No breakfast in bed this time, it seems.
Despite your morning daze, it was impossible not to notice the grin he was fighting tooth and nail to suppress. “What?” You finally managed to mutter, your voice still weak and embarrassingly scratchy from sleep when you broke the peaceful silence.
“What?” he echoed, amused but far from mocking. “Don't tell me you forgot what day it is.” his long fingers gently brushed your hair aside, aiding in clearing your view as you stretched your arms.
Of course you knew what day it was. The most important day of the year, if it were up to you to decide, but you weren't about to give in so easily.
“Hm… christmas?” You guessed, your hand reaching up to pinch his nose, feeling a warm surge of affection at the way his face scrunched in response. Normally, you would’ve at least attempted to throw a more creative quip, but you could not gather enough mental energy to think of doing anything but mildly annoy him at the moment.
“It’s the middle of the year, sweetheart” he retorted, attempting to lick your hand and earning a disgusted sound from you. “Try again" his hand quickly grabbed your retracting one, firmly holding your wrist and bringing it up to his face once again.
You hummed, your eyes drifting up as if genuinely giving his question some thought.
“There's usually breakfast already done,” he hinted begrudgingly against your palm.
“Your birthday?” You teased languidly.
“My birthday”
A giggle erupted from your lips at his compliance, watching as he immediately mirrored your expression before you finally murmured a warm ‘happy birthday’.
He slowly laced your fingers together before pressing a lingering kiss on the back of your hand “Thank you darling” then another light press of his lips on your wrist.
“I love you” you added absentmindedly, gently rubbing his hand with your thumb.
“Love you more” he exhaled against your arm, his eyes closing as he savored the feeling of your sweet skin.
“Speaking of breakfast,” you smiled, feeling his lips leave a trail of lazy, feathery kisses down your arm. “Will I have the honor of making it this morning?”
“Not a chance,” he instantly shot down, not even entertaining the idea.
A playful, disappointed pout tugged at your lips at his refusal “Just this once” you insisted, but he seemed too absorbed in his current task to even humor you.
Your free hand reached to brush his untidy hair back when he finally reached your shoulder, feeling the softest strands of orange between your fingers. You blinked once, then once more, before your eyes finally shut, surrendering to the weariness setting deep in your bones and the soothing feeling that was his body on yours.
You shifted barely underneath him to find a more comfortable position, and it was only then that, with an accidental graze of your thigh, you felt the rigid tent forming between his legs.
Your eyes fluttered open once again, and you attempted to ignore the way your lower stomach pleasantly stirred in reaction “You got something else you wish to tell me?” You prompted, feeling his hair tingle the side of your face.
He hummed quizzically, his free hand discreetly slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, sending shivers down your slightly arching back. “That I love you very much?” He mumbled innocently, his voice low and tickly against your neck.
His long hand glided against your smooth skin, stopping at your ribcage for a beat, then grazed the plump underside of your breast with his thumb. Your breath caught “Ajax”
He promptly pulled away just enough to look at you, just enough for you to see every freckle that adorned his face with exceptional detail, and just enough for your hot breaths to mingle. You noticed the way his eyes searched for any hints of reluctance on your face, as if assessing your current mood, and you suddenly felt guilty for worrying him.
You wrapped your arm around his shoulders to pull him down once again, nuzzling his neck in a feeble attempt to hide your face. He only sighed.
“I know you’re tired” he tenderly brushed his lips against your jaw, squeezing your hand once before pulling his own away and reaching down to grip your thighs, pulling you lower and simultaneously parting your legs with one swift movement, effectively flushing your hips together. “I’ll do everything” he encouraged, his breath warm and ticklish against your ear.
His sweet reassurances, however, fell on deaf ears once he finally dragged the thick rod of his dick across your core with a slow roll of his hips. You tensed underneath him and automatically wrapped your legs around him, hoping it would be enough to feel more of him through the bothersome layers of clothing.
It was not enough, you knew. Yet some shallow grinding and just the outline of his dick to work with were enough to make the heat in your lower stomach spread like wildfire, making you cling to him like a lifeline, panting and whimpering for more.
His hands found themselves on your bare waist once again, sliding up and down, touching and feeling all they could reach before riding the edge of your shirt up, exposing your hardening nipples to the chill air of the room.
Your eyes caught the way his back flexed as he leaned down to take one of the sensitive buds between his teeth. A gentle nip made your back arch off the mattress with a breathless gasp while one of your hands instinctively tugged at his hair. His hot, wet tongue flattened against your breast in a familiar manner, and you began to feel lightheaded.
“Fuck” He whispered, his breath quivering just as you felt him twitch in his pants. “Can I do a little more?” he coaxed sweetly, but not sweetly enough to hide the evident desperation in his voice. “Please?” He pressed his pelvis flat against yours in an attempt to find a more pleasurable angle, his fingers already all the way down to tease the waistband of your shorts.
A weak nod from you was all it took for him to tug your pants down, maneuvering to get them fully off you, revealing your soaked panties in the process. Before you could even have the opportunity to acclimate, his hand was already between your thighs, fingers spreading across your abdomen as his thumb made its way down to rub lazy tight circles on your clothed clit.
An obscene choked moan escaped your lips before you could stop it, and white dots began to cloud your vision. The feeling of the firm pad of his thumb rubbing slowly through the flimsy fabric of your underwear made you finally tip over the edge. You wished to tell him how good he was making you feel, how well he knew your body, and how much you loved him, yet all that managed to exit your lips were broken mewls that somewhat resembled his name as your cunt desperately squeezed around nothing.
“I know, baby. I know,” he cooed soothingly, his face buried in the valley between your breasts, panting with hardly controlled desire of his own while he helped you ride down your orgasm.
You could barely hear the muffled rustling of his clothes as he worked to pull his pants down just enough to free his erection with his free hand, your senses failing you as your climax slowly subsided, making everything feel lighter and softer around the edges.
He pulled away with one last kiss and peeled off your damp panties, uncovering the sticky mess that formed underneath.
The feeling of his hard cock rubbing against your sex with shallow thrusts sent tingles up your spine, as if awakening you from the post coital numbness
He carefully positioned himself and, with a slow, controlled roll of his hips, he nudged just the tip into your warm tunnel, as if testing the waters before suddenly bottoming out with ease and a filthy squelch that made both of you gasp.
He remained in the same place, not moving in the slightest despite your cunt starting to clench around his throbbing dick. He didn’t budge even when you attempted to roll your hips back against his, desperate for friction as his hands held your thighs in place with an iron grip.
“Ajax… please,” You implored between whines, your cunt squeezing him like a vice.
“I will,” He huffed, leaning down and pressing your thighs to your stomach, his weak reassurance sounding empty even to his own ears. “Just– gods, giv’me a second”
He lay flushed against you for another moment, waiting for both of your breaths to even out. His lips brushed against your collarbone, peppering lazy kisses all over before grazing his teeth at the juncture between your neck and shoulder.
He finally pulled out of your warm heat, leaving you feeling cold and empty for a second before sliding back in right after, tearing a hoarse moan from your throat.
“You feel so good,” He whispered against your skin, his whole weight pressing you against the mattress as he dragged himself inside and out you with all the willpower he could possibly gather. “...so, so good” He angled his hips and rolled them to hit the spongy spot that made your vision whiten, his blunt tip brushing against it over and over, the sound of your combined breaths filling the room.
Your walls spasmed around him, and you scrambled to grip the sheets, the sounds leaving your lips not exactly words as you felt the knot in your stomach tighten once more.
His forehead dropped on your shoulder, his hips stuttering, unable to hold back his release any longer before coating your insides with his hot cum at last, a low, shuddering hiss escaping his lips as he kept fucking his seed into you with shallow thrusts.
One of his hands released its grip on you and reached up to grab a hand of yours, prying it off the sheets and intertwining your fingers, squeezing as the other slid down to your clit with a thumb that knew exactly where to press to help you come undone.
You followed soon after and came apart underneath him, but it was not loud this time. His name is uttered somewhere between your short breaths before exhaustion finally falls upon you, weighing you down and making you unable to care for the sticky combination of fluids between your legs.
The only thing barely registering in your mind was his hand on yours and the warmth of his breath against your neck as he mumbled “one more?”
"tzzz, i'm not," xiao rasps— ugh, you're just so pretty, you know? with a faint dusting of light clinging to your eyes, delicate yet indifferent, as if the universe itself had carelessly bestowed it upon you. he believes there was something unsettling in your gentleness, a quiet radiance that seemed to exist beyond the confines of this world— beyond reason, beyond him.
his hands grip around your waist like you might disappear if he ever dared to let go of you as his ears were dusted a telltale red, to be fair, xiao cannot keep his hands of you, and in his opinion it should always be like this, never too far from each other— forever as he snuggles himself a little closer towards you.
you shift slightly, adjusting your position on his lap as he tenses like a tightly wound wire, his thighs firm beneath you, muscles twitching as if resisting the urge to latch onto you with his soft lips.
you bite back a smile, dipping the tip of the pencil against his lower lash line as his breath shudders, yet this wasn't fear, don't misread xiao for his reaction, it was not from discomfort— just something inside of him reacting almost fragile, tenderly beautiful yet he didn't quite know how to name such emotions.
"hah xiao, you're holding onto me like i might fall," you tease him, brushing your thumb under his eye to soften the colored line.
xiao swallows thickly, his gaze flickering, searching yours as his arms tighten around you, a quiet plea, a contradiction? "i wouldn't let you," he responds quietly, his words alone turning your heart aflame.
it was racing so fast to the point that it might rupture through the shape and flesh of your body. it's almost laughable how dearly you two adored each other— how the conqueror of demons, fierce and untouchable alike, was now just a man beneath your firm hands, coming undone over the slightest trace of your body moving atop.
his warmth seeps through his clothes, one by one, through yours, yes, burning into your skin where his hands grip your waist like he's afraid you'll slip away. he needs you, xiao does, and you can feel the faint tremor in his fingers as you press the liner to his other eye, his breath uneven, his body an open book— tense, passionate, but leaning into you like you're the only thing keeping him tethered.
"there," you whisper, pulling back slightly to admire your work.
xiao doesn't let go of you yet, instead he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his shuddering breath warm against your heightened skin, his touch a quiet fire, burning through your flesh and sinking deep into your very bones— although not with pain, but with the kind of warmth that made you realize you have always been cold without him.
"…do the other eye, please," xiao's voice was barely a muse, but you knew what he meant by it,
"stay,"
— zhongli
"I feel like you're enjoying this a little too much," zhongli finds it almost comical on how fast you could determine his mood as you accused him of the obvious— and the next smile he returned towards you felt slow as his hands easily rest at your thighs.
he tilts his head ever so slightly, offering himself up like something meant to be worshipped, when in fact, such was the case considering who he truly was.
"how could i not, love?" he exhales, his voice rich like aged wine dripping down the tip of your tongue— or honey, yes, now we got it, the sweetest of them all— spilling, slow and golden, from the corners of your mouth whenever you kissed him. as if even your lips cannot contain such excess, as if the world itself conspires to make you taste too much, feel too much, drown in the deep pleasure of it.
"my love, perched on my lap, so close, so intent, how could any man resist?"
you roll your eyes at him in order to hide your boiling all the more flustered expression, but the way your fingers tremble just slightly as you drag the liner along his lower lash line ultimately betrays you.
zhongli's amber gaze watches you, unreadable, indulgent as you bite down your lower lip, "hold still," and warn, ignoring the heat curling at the base of your spine.
"as you wish," he responds cheekily.
and yet, his voice descends— lower, smoother, as if sinking into the very marrow of the moment, curling like smoke in the hollows of your ribs, "though i wonder—" zhongli continues confidently, unraveling something unseen, something inevitable.
his hand slides up slowly, fingers curling at the nape of your neck, the touch featherlight, barely there, but you feel it like a brand, searing into your very being, leaving a mark of endless pleasure.
"—is it i who needs to stay still," his thumb brushes over your pulse,
"or you?"
your breath hitches as his lips curl at the edges with a slightly amused demeanor— an expression not quite a smile, not quite anything at all.
oh, he knows.
"i should stab you in the eye."
zhongli chuckles as his grip tightens, his chin slightly tilted, just a fraction, just enough that your noses almost brush, "if you must."
he winks, "though, i’d much prefer if you kissed me instead."
you swear the next line you draw on him will be just a little uneven.
— neuvillette
the storm groaned against the windowpanes, a ceaseless murmur like the whisper of some distant, unnameable grief as beneath you, neuvillette sat in stillness, his breath deep and steady— like an anchor against the restless howl of the wind.
his hands, resting with an almost absent-minded lightness upon your hips, betrayed neither urgency nor hesitation, only a quiet inevitability— the controlled rise and fall of his chest beneath your touch was steady, as if the weight of existence itself laid upon him and yet he bore it without complaint.
"you're very patient with me," you hum at him, your voice barely above the hush of the rain as your fingers find his chin, tilting his face with a careful adoration.
his skin was cool beneath your touch, smooth like polished marble— an artifact of restraint, a monument to something vast and unknowable, "and you're very careful," he replies, his voice low, "i find it… comforting."
you smile at him as your fingers trace slow paths along the delicate sweep of his lashes, the elegant lines of his face as the patience in him was almost sorrowful, an acceptance of longing as though he has lived with it for too long to protest.
then, without warning, he moves— a shift, so fluid and inevitable, and before you could catch your breath and register what was happening, neuvillette's face was buried in the curve of your neck, his lips barely parted against your skin.
an immediate warmth spreads through you, a heat that knots itself into the quiet places between your ribs.
although you freeze, your breath catches on something unnamed, something trembling between desire and disbelief;
"n-neuvillette?"
your voice sounded like a question, yet your body revealed an answer— your fingers curled at the nape of his neck, the press of his lips a silent confession.
his arms come around you at last, gathering you in, as though he has finally allowed himself this.
his nose brushes along your pulse, "mh? what were you saying?" as his arms tighten around your waist just slightly, holding— not trapping, just holding.
"you're supposed to sit still," you chide playfully, but your voice came out softer than you originally meant to.
he exhales, lips ghosting against your throat. "forgive me," he murmurs, "you are warm, i find myself comforted by your presence."
Sometimes, Alyosha just felt like he was dating a human version of Tugarin—
You and his loyal husky were so similar in many ways, maybe because you both were from the same race, but who cares—it never stopped the hunter from falling in love with you and your ridiculously fluffy tail and ears...
He also didn't care when he was caught in a cuddle pile by you and his doggo in the night, it was fitting for the borderline freezing weather in Snezhnaya and he was cuddling with both his favorite persons.
What he cared about, however, was the awkward moments where you would act upon his orders that were directed toward Tugarin.
It a cute mess up you always did.
"C'mon, fetch!" Alyosha shouted toward Tugarin, who was staring the branch in the hunter's hands intently.
Getting ready to run, the dog halts in his steps when the branch is instead, picked up by someone else, someone who certainly wasn't the four legged furry, confused dog at who the order was directed to.
You proudly ran back toward your boyfriend, who, visibly was confused and surprised before he chuckled. "Good...girl?" He took the stick back, his other hand moving to pat your head. "But...You got a certain someone envious, baby."
Your eyes widenned, realizing that it wasn't your turn to shine. "Hah..ha, oops?" You nervously said before getting chased by said dog.
That day, Alyosha made a mental note to start his orders by his husky's name. (Hc because in his character presentation he said "Tugarin, fetch!" and not just "fetch!")
And some other day, he'd be the victim of your saliva over him. Not even in a weird way, you just tended to be...a little excessive in your way of showing affection, that sometime your little pecks and kisses would turn into licking and biting his chubby cheeks. Something he was always used to because of Tugarin.
"Mwah~♡"
"Chuu~♡"
"Yum~♡"
You sat on his side, legs almost on either side of his lap. His face in your hands as you showered your adorable boyfriend in kisses.
"Did I ever tell you just how cute you are?" You mutter before pecking his nose.
"Hm, you did." He smiled.
"Then," kissing him before biting his cheek. "How warm you are?"
"You never fail to remind me," he nods, his eyes widenning when he felt the tip of your tongue graze his cheek. "Do I?" You asked the hunter, chuckling when he answered with another nod.
You licked his right cheek, then his left, then his jaw before hugging him tightly. "Then I must be doing my girlfriend duty correctly!" You giggled, watching as your lover's smile grew, visibly not minding the assault your tongue exerced on his face. Is this what cuteness aggression is?
You heard his running before he even came in. "Woof!" Tugarin barked before jumping in the middle of you both.
His paws hugging you while he licked your face before switching to Alyosha.
The hunter only sighed, though not really bothered by his dog's or girlfriend's antics.
He loved both of you dearly, even if you added onto the pile of furs present on his carpets...
