In which a fisher girl takes the bait – hook line and sinker!
Merman!Neuvilette x reader
wordcount: ~8200
TWs: manipulation, power Imbalance (god/devotee dynamics), possessive behavior, drowning/asphyxiation, size difference, forced transformation, forced mating, Neuvi breaking corals (DO NOT DO IT).
NSFW: dub-con elements, PiV, come marking, belly bulge, he has 2 monster cocks so double penetration (in one hole), oral sex (m and f receiving), overstimulation, cervix fucking, face-fucking, wet and messy, eggpreg, breeding.
As usual, thank you all, my dear sweethearts, for your support!
NOT SUITED FOR MINORS. Not proofread. Author does not endorse or condone any of the actions depicted in real life. Also, English is not the author's first language, so there might be some mistakes.
Please remember that you are responsible for your own media consumption.
“You can keep your husbands.”
You muttered under your breath as you walked away from the laughter, your bare feet kicking up warm dust from the village path.
“I would rather belong to the sea.”
Your peers heard enough to laugh louder.
They were always like this when it came to you, because you were of an age where a girl should have already chosen a husband, woven a sleeping mat for him, borne him children, bent her back over cooking fires and other endless duties that stitched a woman to the life laid out for her. You had refused all of it, and refusal made people cruel. In your village, a woman who didn’t wish to be chosen was seen as a woman who believed herself above her place.
But it was not pride that kept you apart.
In truth, it was hunger. Not the hunger that gnawed at your belly now and sent you down toward the shore with coiled nets over one shoulder and your knife tucked into the cloth at your waist. It was another kind entirely, one that opened inside your chest each time traders arrived on their tall foreign ships with painted hulls and bright banners that snapped in the wind.
You had seen them only a few times, from very far away, but that had been enough. Those big ships came from lands beyond the reach of village gossip and marriage bargains. When you thought of them, something inside you stretched toward the horizon until it hurt. You wanted to know what lay across the water. However, as a simple village girl, you could only dream of freedom.
That evening, the storm had only just passed. The clouds were breaking apart in long bruised ribbons, and the beach still shone dark and wet under the fading gold of dusk. The palms behind you hissed softly as the wind moved through them, and everywhere there was that clean smell that followed heavy rain.
Your secret cove lay hidden behind a crooked wall of black stone where the surf broke gentler than anywhere else along the coast. The old fishermen knew of it, perhaps, but the boys who mocked you didn’t, and so it had become yours.
You set your things down there, checked the knots of your nets, and began making your way toward the place where you would anchor them for the night.
Your peaceful walk was interrupted by a rough sound, torn low from a throat that didn’t belong to any beast you knew. Your hand found the knife at your waist before thought could catch up. Every tale about sea demons told by firelight came rushing back at once. Your pulse kicked hard in your neck as you stepped around the outcropping, slow and silent, with a blade ready in your shaking hand.
Something lay tangled in the shallows where the storm had thrown up driftwood and torn weeds. The fading sky poured its last blue light over alabaster skin and the powerful lines of his shoulders and chest, over the elegant arch of collarbones beneath hair pale as moonlit foam, threaded through with blue. Beneath his pectorals, along the sides of his torso, you saw the slits of gills fluttering weakly. There were delicate gills at his neck as well, and his forearms deepened from pearlescent skin into blue at the hands, as though the sea itself still clung to him there. From his hair rose two blue horns, smooth but deadly.
From that magnificent human form downward, his body changed. His hips gave way to a long tail, dark as the deep ocean. When it moved, even faintly, the fins along it flashed with submerged purples, teals, indigo, glimmering like oil over water. Tiny points of bioluminescent light shimmered over the scales as if a piece of the night sea had been laid bare upon the shore.
The Sovereign of the Firstborn Waters.
The oldest villagers sometimes spoke of such a being when children lost to the tide were found sleeping safely among the rocks, rather than being drowned by the will of the merciless sea. They touched their foreheads, lowered their eyes, and quietly spoke of a benevolent guardian.
Your eyes wanted to drift to his face, but yet another thing about him made you gasp. There was a wound torn across his lower abdomen, wide and ugly, as if some monstrous thing beneath the waves had caught him and opened his perfect skin for the precious crimson to leak down onto the sand.
Then his eyes opened.
You stumbled backward so violently that your feet slipped out from under you, and you landed on your butt rather awkwardly. He was looking at you with awareness sharpened by pain. His pupils were narrow at first, then widened slightly. Those eyes, as everything about him, were magical, holding the colors of blue and soft rose. They pinned you where you sat, trembling, knife fallen useless from your hand.
“M-my Lord,” you whispered before you even realized you had spoken. “Are you the one from the stories?”
A strained moan of pain escaped him, and his lashes lowered for a moment as if even that had cost him dearly.
You found yourself scrambling to your feet in fear, snatching up your knife with clumsy hands.
“W-wait for me!” you sobbed absurdly, as if a God of the Sea might obey a village girl with salt in her hair and a patched fishing skirt. “Please just hold on!”
The path home was treacherous in the dark after rain. Stones bit into your soles, and one jagged edge tore open the side of your foot so sharply that your vision flashed blood-red for an instant. You cried out, but didn’t stop, bursting into your hut, ignoring the sting of blood trailing behind you, and gathering what you could with frantic hands. Dried healing algae your grandma once taught you to grind. Bowls. Clean cloth. You snatched up your water gourd, hesitated, then filled another vessel with rainwater from the barrel where you kept it for drinking.
Your Lord was still there when you returned, and relief nearly brought you to your knees. He had collapsed onto his side, his expression gone pale and distant in the darkening light, but those beautiful eyes slid to you the moment you kneeled beside him.
Up close he was even more unreal. His lashes were silver at the tips. His mouth was finely shaped, lips naturally tinged blue, like the edge of a shell. There was no ugliness in him anywhere except the wound, and that wound was ghastly enough to twist your stomach.
“Forgive me,” you murmured, because you didn’t know what else one said while touching a deity. “I know this must be clumsy, but I am only me.”
With shaking fingers, you crushed the dried sea herbs with rainwater, made a rough paste, and leaned over him. When you pressed the medicine to the torn flesh, his whole body tightened under your hands. The great tail jerked, fins quivering, and a low sound rumbled through his chest.
“I’m sorry,” you whispered immediately. “I’m so sorry, my Lord.”
He stayed silent, watching you as though every smallest thing mattered. When you rinsed sand from his skin with careful handfuls of seawater, skirting the wound and wiping blood from the curve of his side, his stare never left your face. By the time the bandage was tied, your own breathing had grown unsteady.
“I can’t carry you back,” you admitted, sitting back on your heels, paying no attention to the wound of your own that has reopened. “But I’ll stay and keep watch.”
The words sounded foolish the instant they left you. Keep watch over him. Guard the Lord of Waters with your little knife and your bleeding foot.
When you finally leaned back against a warm black rock, exhaustion dragging at your bones, you could’ve sworn something gentled in his face. You fell asleep to the sound of the surf.
So much for keeping watch
When you woke up at dawn, he was gone. For one second, your heart plunged so hard you thought it might stop. The place where he had lain was empty save for smoothed sand, a dark stain the tide had nearly taken, and the broken remains of your little work. You pushed yourself upright with a gasp and looked wildly toward the sea when something vast moved beyond the rocks.
The surface swelled, and your breath caught. You climbed onto the stone and shaded your eyes against the newborn sun.
“My Lord?”
The shape came nearer. Then he emerged from the water in a wash of blue and white, bracing one hand against the rock to steady himself. Droplets ran over his horns and bare shoulders. His expression gave nothing away.
Without taking his gaze from yours, he lifted one hand and set his offering on the stone beside you: a dozen pink shells, a piece of delicate coral, one perfect sea star, sunset-orange and glistening with fresh seawater.
You stared at them, then at him.
“F-for me?”
He stared at them, then at you.
Reverently, you knelled and gathered the treasures. “Thank you,” you whispered. “Thank you, my Lord.”
In the days that followed, you returned to the cove whenever you could. He would already be there in the shallows or just beyond them, dark tail cutting through clear water, silver hair spilling over his shoulders like ocean foam itself. As his wound slowly closed, he kept close to the shore, and you sat on the rocks nearby, monologuing about different stuff.
Your Lord never answered, but the silence made room for honesty.
That's why another day you found yourself telling him of your village and its smallness, of your mother’s tired sighs, of the young men who boasted loudly and feared the deep water they claimed to command. You also told him how marriage felt like being sealed inside a clay jar and buried in the earth while still breathing. Then, almost immediately, you confessed your shame at wanting more than the life you had been offered. Then your anger at feeling shame for it at all.
Through it all, he listened with a stillness so profound it felt holy. His eyes never wandered, but sometimes they lowered when your voice trembled, as though he would grant you a bit of privacy.
Another problem was that your injured foot hadn’t healed properly. The cut split again, and walking had opened it enough for each step to sting nastily. When you hissed in the middle of yet another monologue, his head turned at once. He was before you in a moment, one hand on the stone, eyes narrowed in focus.
“It’s nothing, my Lord,” you said automatically, then laughed weakly. “I’m fine.”
He looked at you with quiet gravity, and somehow that was more respectful than any question. You gave a tiny nod and extended the injured foot toward him.
Cool fingers gently cupped your heel, lifted your foot as though it were a thing made of flower petals, and turned it to the light. His pupils widened, then thinned, and his expression grew unreadably dark. He looked up at you once, long and searching, then slipped soundlessly beneath the water.
However, your Lord wasn’t absent for long. In fact, he returned merely ten minutes later with strands of algae you had never seen before, pale blue and silver-veined, shining faintly in his hands. With precise movements, he wound them around your cut, letting the soothing coolness seep into your skin at once, taking the pain with it.
“Thank you, my Lord,” you whispered, grateful beyond measure.
His hand lingered on your foot just a bit. Then, with an almost scholarly curiosity that would’ve made you laugh if it were anyone else, he took your healthy foot in his palm, turning it gently, studying the shape. When you flexed your toes, his pupils flared wide, something akin to excitement gracing his features. At that, a helpless laugh escaped you.
The sound, apparently, startled him, and a faint flush rose on his high cheekbones. Before you could hide your delight, he vanished beneath the surface in one smooth motion that left ripples fanning out around your knees.
The next day, you had stolen mangoes and small golden guavas from a grove near the village edge. When you sat by the cove and held one out, he regarded it with open suspicion. You smiled, split it with your knife, and tasted it first. Only then did he accept the piece from your hand, biting it like a tamed animal. He closed his eyes for one suspended moment while the sweetness dissolved on his tongue, then opened them and fixed you with an intense gaze.
After that, your Lord ate every piece you brought him, and you took wicked joy in discovering favorites. Mango made his gaze soften. Guava sharpened it with keen delight. Sea grapes pleased him less than you expected.
What was interesting, however, was that he repaid every gift. Fish, always the finest, laid neatly on the stone where the tide would not spoil them. Pearls trapped in rough shells. Twisted glass worn smooth by the sea. A length of red coral so bright it looked aflame underwater.
Then, one evening beneath a sky painted pink and violet, he came to you bearing something cradled carefully in both hands. Shells polished to moon-glow. Fragments of coral. beads of green-blue stone. Tiny silver fish bones worked into a pattern that caught the light like woven water. He held the necklace up with solemn ceremony.
“For me?” you asked, though by then already knowing the answer. You slipped into the water, and the sea rose to your throat. His gaze dipped once to the column of your neck, to your mouth, then back to your neck. Slowly, he placed the necklace around you, and when the sovereign was done, he let his hands fall, but didn’t swim away.
That night, words spilled from you like tidewater through rocks.
You told him everything you had never dared say aloud. Most of it was about how you wanted to stand on the deck of one of those enormous ships and watch your island become a green blur behind you. You spoke until the sky darkened and the first stars appeared. He listened from the water, still as an idol. In his listening, there was such ferocious attention that you no longer felt foolish for dreaming.
A few days later, he hovered just beyond the shallows and extended one elegant hand toward you, offering. The ocean was warm from the day’s heat, clear enough to see sunlight shattering over his scales.
You walked into the water until it reached your waist, then your ribs, then your shoulders. When you were close enough, his arm slid around your waist. With ease, the Sea Sovereign took you beyond the black rocks, into a world hidden under the skin of the water.
Coral gardens spread below in impossible colors. Shoals of colorful fish turned together. Forests of swaying sea fans glowed in filtered light. He pointed things out to you with a quiet pride that made your heart ache, and when you reached for a pale coral branch in wonder, he broke off a small piece and tucked it carefully behind your ear. Each time your lungs burned, God of the Sea gathered you close and rose with you, one hand firm at your waist, swimming up before you could panic.
At sunset, Sovereign floated onto his back in a sheltered pool where the sea was as calm. Gently, he drew you with him until you rested along the length of his torso, your cheek against his chest, careful of the gills beneath. His skin was cool and smooth under your hands.
The place where the wound had been was healing cleanly. You traced that faint scar with gentle fingers and whispered, “My Lord, thank you. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Even if I live to be old, I think I will carry this day under the skin. I will remember you forever.”
A melodic vocalization rose from him, rich and resonant, carrying through his chest into your cheek. It was unlike birdsong or whale-call. In fact, it was unlike anything you had ever known. The melody curled around you like water around stone, mournful and lovely. It made your body tingle, and you lifted your head to look at his handsome face.
The sky behind him was a blaze of gold sinking into rose. Light poured over his face, caught in wet lashes and on the line of his horns, softening the planes of his cheeks. He was already looking back at you.
Slowly, as if giving you time to flee, he raised one hand and touched your face. His fingertips grazed your cheekbone, then your jaw, then settled at the back of your neck. The hold was careful, but there was no mistaking its intensity. With a steady hand, he drew you upward until your faces hovered a breath apart and you could feel the coolness of seawater on his lips. Your hands, of their own accord, came to rest against his shoulders.
“My Lord,” you whispered longingly, letting him close the final distance.
He kissed you slowly and carefully, and when you shuddered and kissed him back, something like relief vibrated through his whole body. The hand at your neck tightened just enough to keep you there, while the other came to your waist and held you with devastating gentleness. On his lips, you tasted salt, fruit, and the last warmth of the day.
Your Lord drew back, only a little, his forehead rested against yours. His cheeks were tenderly pink, and there was something slick pressing against your thigh, not like a moss type of slick or a seaweed cream slick, but… slick.
Now what exactly was that?
Your fingers traced the place where human form gave way to the powerful tail, and there, you found a vertical slit. It parted slightly under your curious touch, yielding like the petals of some deep-sea flower. Directly from it, seeped a fluid that coated your fingers instantly, cool and slippery.
You looked up at him and found him already watching you, his cheeks flushed that same tender pink, his pupils blown so wide the rose and blue of his irises had nearly vanished into black. His breathing had gone shallow and ragged, those gills at his neck fluttering with each quick inhale.
You stroked along the length of the slit, gentle, questioning, and his moan shattered the quiet.
His hand flew to his mouth as if he could catch the sound and stuff it back inside, but his hips betrayed him, pressing forward into your touch. His tail curled and flexed beneath the water, sending ripples fanning out around you both, muscles clenching and releasing as he fought for control.
Then, out of the blue, his arms were around you, gathering you close, and he was swimming backward with you held against his chest. The Sovereign carried you past the coral gardens you had marveled at before, past forests of waving kelp that brushed your ankles like ghostly fingers, past shoals of sleeping fish that scattered like silver thoughts at your passing.
He brought you to a place you had never seen.
A hidden beach ringed by black cliffs that rose like ancient sentinels against the stars, accessible only from the sea. The moon hung fat and silver overhead, so close you felt you could reach up and cup it in your palms, painting the whole world in shades of deepest indigo.
Your Lord backed against one of the smooth boulders that dotted the shoreline, its surface worn glassy by millennia of tides. He settled himself so that his upper body rested against the sun-warmed stone while the lower half of his magnificent tail remained submerged, its fins fanning out in the dark water like the robes of a king.
Then, with a gentleness that belied the power thrumming in his very being, he took your hand, guiding yours down. Past the firm plane of his stomach, past the place where human skin would have given way to hip and thigh, to the intimate seam of his. It pulsed against your fingertips, leaking a bioluminescent blue fluid that shimmered faintly in the moonlight.
You slid one slick finger along its entire length, and you felt the coiled power of his body shudder against you like a seismic wave breaking against the shore.
"My Lord," you whispered, your voice a fragile thing against the immensity of the sea. "Do you want me to–"
He answered by surging his hips forward, driving your slick fingers deeper into the molten heat of his slit, and the raw moan that was torn from his throat was all the answer the universe required.
You pushed inside, and the entrance was a tight vise, drenched with that endless blue fluid. The heat of him was staggering, a living furnace so much warmer than the cool night water, and the inner walls of him were soft, textured like the underside of a mushroom. They clutched and released at you with each pass, and the involuntary milking motion made your own neglected core clench with sympathetic desire.
You watched his face the entire time. A deep flush spread down from his sharp cheekbones, across his elegant neck, and bloomed across his pale chest. His head fell back against the rock with a heavy thud that would’ve fractured a human skull, but he didn't even notice. His ancient composure was stripped away, leaving only a raw creature beneath, and it was the most breathtaking thing you had ever witnessed.
But then you felt a new pressure. A welling presence pushing against your fingertips from deep inside him. It was strange and demanding, and before you could fully register the sensation, it forced your fingers out. Your slick fingers slipped from his slit with a wet pop that made you both gasp. The bioluminescent fluid clung to your hand in thick strands, stretching from your fingertips to his pulsing slit like spun moonlight before finally breaking and dripping down your wrist.
You looked down, and your breath caught in your throat, a sound of pure awe.
Two heads had peeked from the opening. They pushed past the swollen lips of his slit, one positioned above the other, emerging like some alien bloom. They were the color of the deep blue sea, tapered to pointed tips like the unfurling petals of a calla lily. Their surfaces were textured with a subtle networkk of faint ridges and nubs that caught the light and made your mouth water. They leaked that same shimmering blue fluid from tiny slits at their tips, twitching and pulsing with a life of their own, swelling and relaxing in a hypnotic rhythm.
You stared, dumbstruck.
The Sea Soverein made a questioning hum that vibrated in his chest. And you realized, with a jolt that went straight to your core, that he, the being who had witnessed the birth and death of civilizations, was anxious about what a simple village girl would think of the monstrous beauty between his hips.
That realization was an aphrodisiac more potent than any wine. Empowered, you reached out without thinking, and your fingers brushed the delicate tip of the lower shaft. He jerked as if struck by lightning, sending a splash of water cascading around you both.
You wrapped your hand around the shaft experimentally, marveling at the texture. It was hot, and the ridges shifted and flexed under your palm as if greeting you. Your thumb found the weeping tip, circling it slowly, spreading the slick pre-cum.
The upper cock bumped insistently against your wrist, smearing a trail of glowing fluid across your skin. It seemed almost jealous of the attention you were lavishing on its twin. Your breath hitched, and with a surge of bold desire, you took that one in your other hand, wrapping your fingers around its heat.
Your Lord let out a muffled moan, and a glistening flow of blue fluid ran down your fingers in warm rivulets, dripping onto the sculpted planes of his stomach, onto his powerful tail, and into the dark water where it dispersed in shimmering clouds. His gills heaved with each ragged breath he took. His hands gripped the edges of the boulder on either side of him with such desperate force that you saw his knuckles fade to the pale blue of stressed sea-glass.
Still pumping both shafts, you leaned in and pressed open-mouthed kisses to the delicate frills of his gills, tasting salt. You dragged your tongue lower, licking a slow, sloppy trail over the hard ridges of his stomach, feeling every toned muscle jump and quiver beneath your mouth. When you finally reached his cocks, you rubbed your cheek against them like a needy animal, smearing the glowing pre-cum all over your face in shiny streaks.
"My Lord… I-if you will allow me, I want to give you pleasure…" you faltered, your cheeks burning with a heat that rivaled his own, "...with my mouth."
To prove your words, you nuzzled harder, letting the leaking tips drag across your lips, your nose, your forehead, painting your face in his slick.
His pupils suddenly flared so wide they nearly swallowed the luminous silver of his irises entirely. A sound rumbled deep in his chest, and then he was shifting, pulling himself higher onto the rock, arranging his body so that he sat half-reclined, his magnificent lower half still in the water, both of his weeping cocks rising before you. You looked up at him with glassy eyes.
"P-please be merciful," you whispered, your voice trembling with a mix of nervousness and raw want. "I may not be good at this, my Lord, but… I'll try my best to please you."
His finger traced your cheek, following the path his own essence had made, tracing your lips and the line of your jaw. And the hum he gave you was so slight it was almost imperceptible, but the desperate plea in his eyes was a roaring command. You opened your mouth obediently and wrapped your lips around the lower tip.
The taste of him was sweet, with a creamy undertone that was purely the essence of the ocean itself. The ridges and velvety nubs on his shaft caught and dragged against your tongue and the roof of your mouth in ways that should’ve been disgusting, but only made you crave more.
You sank lower, your jaw stretching to accommodate his sheer girth, your tongue lapping awkwardly but eagerly at the bumpy underside of his shaft. His hand found your hair, and his long fingers tangled in the wet strands. When you hollowed your cheeks and pulled back, a broken groan vibrated through his chest, begging you to take more in.
You sank down again, taking him deeper this time. The head of his cock nudged the entrance to your throat, and you had to consciously relax your jaw, fight the instinct to gag, and breathe slowly through your nose. He was thicker than anything you had ever attempted, and the sensation of your throat stretched around his ridged heat was overwhelming. But the low moans and coos he made, while his tail thrashed in the water, were worth any discomfort.
The upper cock bumped and smeared against your face as you worked. Its weeping tip dragged across your cheek, leaving a trail of cool slick. It nudged against your eyebrow, then slid up to your forehead, leaving more of that shimmering fluid in its wake. You reached up blindly and wrapped your hand around the neglected shaft, stroking it in rhythm with your bobbing head, matching each wet pull of your lips with a firm pull of your fist.
The Sea Lord moaned, and you felt his hand tighten in your hair, guiding your head, as his hips began to move. You let him use your mouth, surrendering control, your eyes watering as the ridged head of his cock hit the back of your throat with each thrust.
Your own neglected pussy ached and clenched, so empty, so desperate for friction. But you didn't dare move a hand to touch yourself. In this moment, his pleasure was the most urgent task. You could take care of yourself later, alone on your mat, with the phantom taste of him still in your throat and the memory of his sounds echoing in your ears.
When he thrust in deep and elicited the filthy gluck from you, the muscles of his abdomen went rigid, and his hand in your hair tightened, trying to pull you away gently. You resisted, humming an encouraging sound around his thick cock. In response, the powerful length of his tail whipped up from the water and coiled around you. It wrapped around your ankles, then your calves, then your knees, holding you firmly in place so you couldn’t have moved even if you had wanted to.
Then he thrust deep, and the tip of his lower cock hit the very back of your throat. You gagged, and a full-body spasm rippled through you, bringing fresh tears to your eyes, but he didn't stop. You felt the ridges along his shaft flex and swell, felt the entire tip thicken and pulse.
And then he was coming, so much more than any human man could produce.
Hot seed spilled past your lips, running down your chin in glowing rivers, dripping down onto your heaving chest. At the same moment, the upper cock pulsed violently in your grip, releasing across your face in thick ropes. His come painted your cheek, splashed across the bridge of your nose, and matted into your hair. You choked and sputtered, swallowing convulsively, but the flood was endless, leaving you no solution but to drink everything he was feeding you, filling your belly with his seed.
When your Lord finally stiled, you were a gasping, debauched mess. His tail unwound from your legs reluctantly, as if the very appendage didn’t want to let you go. His gentle hands came up to your face, his thumbs wiping away his own cooling cum with a reverence that made your sensitive body shiver. He cleaned your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, and then, very tenderly, he wiped the fluid from your swollen lips. You leaned into his touch, utterly spent and trembling with the aftershocks.
But the peaceful moment was a fleeting thing. The Sea God slid from the rock, the water accepting him back with a soft sigh, and gathered you in his arms. He lifted you as though you weighed nothing and deposited you gently onto the very same sun-warmed stone where he had just lain.
You blinked in confusion, your mind still hazy with lust and wonder. He pushed himself up in the water, so the gentle waves lapped at his wide chest. His gaze, sharp and hungry again, traveled down your body with predatory focus. He looked at the simple cloth that served as your only garment. It was plastered to your skin, rendered almost transparent, and it was not entirely with seawater.
Two of his claws hooked into the flimsy fabric at your hip, the tips cool against your heated skin. He tugged lightly, those luminous eyes rising to meet yours.
You nodded, the understanding of what was to come finally settling into your bones.
The cloth gave way with a soft rrrip, torn down your legs in a single motion. It floated in the dark water for a moment before sinking, forgotten.
Your Lord stared blatantly, with an intensity that made your skin prickle, at the place between your legs. The place no man had truly seen or touched since a clumsy, hurried, and rather disappointing encounter in your village years ago.
His pupils flared wide again, devouring the sight of your bare pussy, and he moved closer, leveling his face with your tummy. The moonlight painted everything in stark relief of silver and deep blue shadow, and you felt more exposed, more vulnerable, and more desired than you had ever felt in your life.
Slowly, the Water Lord leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the soft skin of your stomach, right above where your womb lay hidden. Then, with a rumbling groan of pure pleasure, he rubbed his whole face against that spot. His eyes fluttered half-closed, the silver lashes casting faint shadows on his sharp cheekbones. His nose nuzzled against the soft thatch of curls on your mound, his warm breath ghosting over your sensitive skin. The great curve of his horns brushed against your belly as he pressed closer.
His forked tongue, long and surprisingly warm, came out and licked a slow stripe across your belly. The unique sensation made your hips twitch involuntarily. Your Lord didn’t pay any attention to that, kissing the same spot again, and again, seemingly driven mad by the simple taste of you.
Then, with an impatient growl, he began working his way lower.
He pressed sloppy kisses along your hip bones, down the crease where your thigh met your body, sucking gently at the sensitive flesh until you were whimpering. His nose brushed against your swollen outer lips, and your cunt clenched visibly, pushing out a fresh trickle of clear slick that dripped down toward your ass.
His elegant fingers joined the worship. With feather-light precision, he traced the shape of your puffy outer lips before gently parting them, spreading you wide open with his thumbs. The cool night air kissed your exposed core, making you shiver.
His thumbs spread you wider.
You gasped at the way the air touched places that had never felt air before, at the way his gaze seemed to burn into you. Your Lord traced the outer edges of your folds first, learning their shape, the way they swelled under his attention. When his finger brushed your clit you moaned, and he stilled, mesmerised by the sound.
His finger returned to the spot that made you sound so prettily, circling it slowly, learning the exact pressure that made you moan, the exact rhythm that made your hips buck against his hand. He watched your face the entire time as he tortured your sensitive little pearl, lavishing it with his attention, massaging it.
Then he lowered his head, and his tongue finally joined his digits.
From the shock of it, the impossible sensation, you screamed. His tongue slid through your folds like the gentlest silk, like water made into flesh. He tasted you slowly learning you with that same focus, and when he reached your entrance, he pressed inside without hesitation.
You clawed at the rock beneath you, nails scraping stone, back arching off the surface.
His tongue pushed deeper. And deeper still. Farther than any human tongue could reach, farther than you had known it was possible to be reached. The forked tip curled and explored, stroking places you had never known existed, finding spots that made stars burst behind your eyes. He made a sound against you, and the vibration traveled through his tongue into your core and made your vision white out.
You realized it through the haze of pleasure, your Lord was searching for something inside you. His tongue questing deeper and deeper until it reached its final destination, making your whole body convulse.
Your cervix.
The Sea Sovereign had reached it with that endless tongue and was now pressing gently, learning the shape of your deepest place. The sensation was overwhelming – too much and not enough, pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.
“M-my Lord!” You sobbed his title, not knowing what you were begging for.
He groaned against you, and his tongue fucked you with long strokes, each one pressing against your cervix in a way that made your whole body shudder. His nose bumped your clit with each thrust, and the dual stimulation built something inside you that you had never felt before.
With another deep stroke, your legs thrashed. Your Lord hooked them over his shoulders without missing a beat, opening you further, taking you deeper, his hands gripping your thighs with possessive strength, and you came across his face.
Even as you came down from your high and lay limp against the stone, his tongue continued its work. Gentle now, softer, cleaning every drop of your release, pressing inside you just to feel you clench around him, pulling back to circle your clit until you whimpered with oversensitivity. He worshiped you with his mouth for long minutes, until you finally pushed weakly at his head.
But it seemed the Sea God’s feast was far from over.
You realized this when he took both of his cocks in one hand. They were fully hard again, twin lengths glistening and twitching with renewed need. He held them together, base to tip, and stared directly into your eyes. A single, questioning hum filled the air between you.
The overwhelming intensity of being looked at like that… like you were the most precious, desirable, lovable thing in any world, made a sob catch in your throat. You nodded desperately, even as your exhausted body tensed at the thought of taking them both.
"Please," you whispered, your voice hoarse from screaming. "Please, my Lord– be gentle. I don't know if I can–"
The Sovereign leaned closer and tenderly kissed your sweaty forehead, his other hand coming up to cup the soft curve of your lower belly, silencing your fears with a touch so reassuring it made your eyes sting. When he pulled back, his eyes promised a gentleness and care that you could never expect from the selfish men of your village.
Despite the coiling fear in your gut, you parted your trembling legs wider, accommodating the broad expanse of his tail and hips as he moved between them. He positioned both flared heads at your swollen entrance, rubbing them slowly against your labia, coating them in the mingled essence of both your arousals.
And, you had to admit, the feeling was already shocking. Two thick cocks, both crowned with those inhuman tips, pressing together against a hole that had only ever taken one. You felt the promise of the impossible stretch and whimpered, your hands flying up to grip his broad shoulders, your nails digging into his cool skin.
Then, with slow pressure and a gentle hum, he pushed slowly, his eyes locked on your face with unwavering attention, his body trembling with the effort of restraint, ready to stop at the first flicker of true pain.
But you just didn't want him to stop. You felt each and every ridge and nub dragging against your inner walls, until both cocks were fully seated inside you, their tips pressed firmly against the entrance to your womb. You felt so full that tears of pure, overwhelming sensation leaked from your eyes and ran down your cheeks.
But then your Lord withdrew slightly and thrust again, and both tips pressed against your cervix at once. The sensation made your head tilt back, and if he hadn't slipped his palm between the hard stone and your nape with such inhuman speed, your skull would have cracked against it.
He froze immediately, his eyes wide with profound concern, his big palm cradling your head as if it were made of spun glass. But you were already pulling him closer with your legs locked around his tail, ravenous for more.
"Please," you sobbed, your voice a needy plea. "Please, move! I need– I need–!"
He thrusted again, just once, gently, letting your inner walls adjust to the incredible fullness of being impaled by both of his magnificent cocks. Then, with a squelching sound, he started rocking his hips, watching your face the entire time, his ancient mind cataloging flinch, adjusting his pace and angle to match your every response, playing your body like some kind of instrument.
Drool leaked shamelessly from the corner of your mouth as you stared up at him. His usually composed face was starting to crack – eyes half-lidded and clouded with lust, sharp teeth clenched, remnants of your earlier release still glistening on his nose and chin. The sight of the ancient Sea Sovereign losing himself in the sloppy heat of your cunt made you clench violently around him.
He groaned deeply, the sound low and animalistic, and drove himself harder, fucking you with both cocks in long, powerful strokes. Your back arched off the stone as sweet, high-pitched moans spilled from your lips. One large hand splayed across your waist, pressing your lower stomach firmly against his hard abdomen. The new angle made everything more intense.
Every time he bottomed out, a clear, obscene bulge appeared on your lower belly – the distinct shape of both his thick cocks stretching you from the inside. You could literally watch yourself getting fucked, the bump rising and falling with every thrust.
His gaze dropped to your breasts, presented so prettily to him, still covered by your top. With a low growl, he tore the fabric away completely, exposing you fully to the night air.
His long, forked tongue snaked out, curling around your breast before the dual tips latched onto your hard nipple. He sucked and flicked the sensitive bud while pounding into you, the wet sounds of his cocks destroying your pussy growing louder and nastier.
And then you felt it.
Something thicker, heavier, and far more solid than cum began traveling down the length of his lower cock. One of his shafts expanded noticeably, the ridges flaring as it stretched you even wider.
“H-huh…?” you gasped, eyes flying open in shock.
Your own body couldn't fathom it, spasming and clenching in a confused mix of pleasure and shock against the strange thing that was stretching your channel further.
Your Lord stared back at you, and there was something impossibly ancient and knowing in his gaze. An ageless intent that you couldn't decipher, no matter how hard you tried. His hips pressed forward one final time, driving both tips as deep into your womb.
The exact same moment, the horrible realization settled over you like a warm wave.
"W-wait, my Lord, p-please, I–" You were interrupted by his hands, which came up to circle your body, pressing your arms to your sides. Before you could try to push him back with your trembling legs, the thinner end of his tail wrapped around your ankles, locking you in the same tight leglock you'd had him in moments before.
The first egg slipped from the tip of his lower cock and into your waiting womb, shocking you. The second made you moan as it joined the first. The third made you sob. By the fifth, you were crying openly, your face a mess of tears and slick fluids. One of his eggs stopped at the tight, spasming mouth of your womb, didn't quite make it through the clenched muscle.
The Lord of the Sea leaned down and pressed his cool forehead to your feverish one, humming a resonant melody. The wordless sounds rumbled from his chest and washed over you like a gentle tide, a lullaby older than human memory. It made you go limp in his arms, your resistance melting away, and in that boneless surrender, the next egg slipped past the barrier, and he was able to deposit the rest of his precious brood into the safe cradle of your body.
One of his hands unwrapped from your body and came down to rest on your stomach, pressing gently, feeling the distinct bulge of his eggs inside you.
Then came the flood.
A hot torrent of thick cum erupted from both cocks at once. It was far more voluminous than before, flooding every remaining space around the eggs, cushioning them, warming them, and pressurizing your stuffed womb. The excess gushed out around his cocks in creamy rivers, squirting and bubbling messily from your overstretched pussy with every shallow thrust.
Your belly swelled even further, becoming tight, round, and gravid under his palm. You looked down through tear-blurred eyes at the prominent bulge, feeling impossibly full.
The Sea Sovereign stayed inside you long after his release had ended, holding you, cooing those ancient sounds with his hand massaging your gravid belly. He pressed soft, reverent kisses to your face, your neck, your shoulders, and when his cocks finally softened and slipped from your body, you felt the loss as an acute emptiness. But he immediately gathered you close, his powerful tail curling protectively around your weak legs, and you felt him exhale a contented sigh through his fluttering gills.
You looked up and saw stars scattered across the unfamiliar constellations wheeling overhead, strange and beautiful. And with the sight came realization.
"M-my Lord," you said softly, your voice hoarse, "I need to go back. It is late."
He went still beside you.
Then, for the first time, the melodic baritone of his voice cut through the silence.
"Why?"
The pronunciation of it was strange, as though language itself was foreign to his tongue, but it was unmistakably speech. You stared at him, shock stealing your breath.
"You– you can speak?"
He inclined his head in confirmation.
"Call me Neuvillette from now on, my dearest. Answering your question, yes, I just prefer not to." His voice was strikingly resonant, with a cadence that belonged to the deep places of the world, to currents and tides and the slow turning of centuries. "The words of your kin are... too much and too fast." He paused, his hand pressing gently against your swollen belly. "But I will gladly speak to you in... your language."
"Neuvillette,” you started, shocked upon hearing his statement, “Please! My family will worry! I have to go back!"
"No."
You tried to pull away immediately, and his arm tightened around you. Panic began to thread through your confusion, sharp and cold.
"My Lord, I can’t stay–"
"Open your mouth."
"What? No! Let me go, ple–!"
Before you could react, his tail wrapped around your ankle and pulled. You slid from the rock into the sea, scraping your backside in the process. Your scream became a gurgle as water closed over your head, while Neuvillette dragged you under.
You thrashed, pushing at his chest, clawing at his arms, but he was inexorable. He held you beneath the surface with the patience of something that had waited five hundred years and wouldn’t be denied now. When you tried to kick for air, he pulled you up.
You broke the surface, gasping, coughing, choking, sucking in air with desperate heaves, but you barely filled your lungs before he pulled you under again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Each time Neuvillette let you rise just long enough to hope before dragging you back into the crushing dark.
The tenth time, he didn’t let you rise even when black crept in at the edges of your vision. And through it all, you saw him floating before you, his face calm. His lips parted, and a stream of bubbles escaped.
You fought longer than you thought possible. Your pride, your fear, your desperate need to protest – all of them screaming against surrender. But your body betrayed you, and in your final moment of consciousness, you lunged forward and pressed your mouth to his.
Air flooded your lungs, along with something else.
A hard object, hard and cool, pushed past your lips by his tongue, forced down your throat before you could spit it out. You swallowed reflexively, and pain exploded through your body, and then you knew no more.
You woke to singing, lying on something soft, and above you, the sea surface shimmered with moonlight. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, holding you close to a firm chest with a heartbeat that matched the rhythm of the waves.
Then a voice stopped humming, and human speech rang against your ear, filled with relief so profound it hurt to hear. You jolted and noticed the way your body felt… different.
You looked down at yourself in horror, and where your legs should’ve been, there was something completely different.
Scales covered you from the waist down, catching the moonlight with soft iridescence, shimmering with every small movement. You could feel the way the water moved over your gills, the way your eyes adjusted to the dark without effort, the way your new tail twitched and curled with instincts you didn’t yet understand.
You tried to thrash, and Neuvilette only held you tighter, pressing you against his chest with gentle firmness.
"Quiet, love," he murmured. "Your tail is still weak. You need rest. The transformation takes time."
Tears burned in your eyes, hot and strange in this new body, mixing with the sea around you. You wept, and he held you through it, his lips pressing soft kisses to your temple.
"Do not grieve, my pearl," he said softly, rubbing soft circles onto the skin of your swollen belly. "You wished to see the beauties of this world, did you not?" He pressed his lips to your temple again, lingering. "Now you will. With me."
As his tail twined around yours in the moonlit water, you thought that perhaps belonging to him was not so different from belonging to the sea after all.
Perhaps it was the same thing.
.
Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated!
Series Masterlist: Creatures Features
You: helping him, feeding him fruits, enjoying his company...
Neuvi:
Anyways.
Tbh, I don't really like this chapter. I spent a veeeery long time rewriting and editing it, trying to make it more sensual and kinda poetic, but I feel like I've only made it worse :c
I apologize if there are any mistakes, but I just can't muster up any strength to proofread it for the hundredth time... Still, I hope it not too disappointing.
🥞 featuring: {separate}: 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐧𝐞𝐮𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐯𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
🥞 tw: yandere content ♡ breeding kink♡ lots of creampies♡ babytrapping ♡ noncon♡ lingerie♡ bondage (w/cuffs)♡ spanking♡ feral♡ manhandling♡ filming♡ implied murder♡ teratophilia♡ face fucking♡ foodplay♡ backshots♡ condom “tearing”♡ feminization♡ biting♡ kidnapping & pet names
🥞 a/n: ♡ REPOSTED haters hate to see yo girl winning. Pls boost!!! ♡ no but fr... just block me...stop this madness.
🥞 CHILDE — The BabyFever Hubby:
“Doll face!” he chirped, catching sight of you in the doorway. His smile stretched wide, red hair sticking to his damp forehead. “You made it just in time. Family meals should always be eaten together, don’t you think?”
Your throat went dry.
He set two plates down on the table with an exaggerated flourish, then tapped his chin like he’d just remembered something important. “Oh—and I was thinking… the spare room upstairs? It’d make the perfect nursery.”
The words hit you like a bucket of ice water.
Your unease only deepened. He knew you didn’t want children—he’d always known. From the beginning, you told him you weren’t cut out to be a mother, that if he wanted a family, he should leave while he still could.
You had been clear: the two of you were incompatible.
But Childe had only smiled, insisting he loved you more than anything. Kids or not, he wasn’t going anywhere.
And yet lately… he’d been slipping. The way he lingered on nursery talk, the way “family” kept dripping from his tongue like honey you didn’t want to taste. Every time you reminded him, he only laughed, brushing your words aside.
“You’ll come around,” he’d say, his grin so bright it made your skin crawl.
Something about those words lodged in your chest, heavy and wrong.
-🥞-
You came home late, still in your work clothes, and found him waiting—shirtless this time, iron in one hand, your blouse folded neatly beside him. "Welcome home~"
It should’ve been sweet. It should’ve been normal.
But then he looked up at you with that gleam in his eyes, and you knew.
Minutes later, your body was bent over the couch, cheek pressed into the cushions while Childe rutted into you from behind, his grip bruising your hips.
The couch groaned beneath the rhythm of his thrusts, the fabric slipping under your fingers as you clutched the edges for dear life.
“Nggh—so tight,” he moaned into your ear, voice ragged, every word a groan. “Fuck, baby, it’s like you’re trying to milk me already.”
You whimpered, face scrunching in discomfort as the sharp snap of latex breaking filled the room.
The condom.
Your eyes flew wide. “Ajax—oh my god—pull out!”
But he only stilled for a heartbeat, his chest shuddering against your back as the raw heat of your cunt pulsed around him. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his head fell forward with a groan.
Oh, fuck—oh, fuck
You struggled beneath him, panic rising, but his grip locked like iron. “Baby, c-can’t. Too fucking good—shit—can’t stop,” he gasped, easing his hips into you slowly, savoring every inch of bare flesh against his cock. “I’ll buy you pills tomorrow, promise! Just… let me feel you!”
“No, Ajax, I don’t want—”
“You will.” His voice broke into a shaky laugh. “You’ll come around. You always do.”
Your body betrayed you, clenching tight, and he let out a low, broken moan. His thoughts spilled out as his thrusts grew stronger, more erratic.
“Look at you—your body already knows it belongs to me.” His voice cracked into a panting whimper. “Your womb’s empty, sweetheart. Let me fix that.”
“Gonna pump you so full it seeps out for days. Everyone will know you’re mine.”
You kicked weakly, thrashing, but he held you down with ease, lips brushing your ear as he whispered feverishly, “Tears won’t change anything, baby. Cry all you want—I’ll just kiss them away while I make you a mother.”
A laugh tore from his throat, jagged and wet with tears, even as his hips pistoned faster. “Don’t you get it? I need this. I need us. The family. The house. The kids.”
The couch shook violently under his pace, every thrust shoving you deeper into the cushions. Sweat dripped from his temple onto your bare back, his breathing uneven, desperate, manic.
And that’s when you realized with horror: this wasn’t an accident. He’d planned this.
He was actually trying to get you pregnant.
“Five kids minimum,” he choked out between sobs and gasps. “Ten if you can handle it. Sweet cheeks, don’t worry—I’ll take such good care of you. That’s what your hubby is for, right?"
He spread your legs wider, fucking into you with a feverish rhythm, sweat dripping from his brow.
His pupils had blown wide, heart-shaped and glossy, drooling euphoria as his hips clapped against yours.
You arched under him, tears streaking down your cheeks, shaking your head—but he only kissed the salt off your skin, murmuring against your lips.
“Shhh… so pretty… you’ll look so fucking perfect swollen with my child.”
His voice broke into a ragged scream as he buried himself to the hilt, clutching your hands tight while hot ropes of cum painted your womb white.
“One more,” he panted, eyes wild and glassy. “S’more… one… one more time.”
His words slurred with desperation, and though you sobbed and screamed no, he didn’t hear you—or maybe he didn’t want to.
The hours blurred together. Again and again, he used you, stuffing you full until your thighs and the cushions beneath were drenched with his seed.
Your pussy clenched helplessly, overflowing each time he pulled out only to drive back in, cock glistening with a mix of cum and slick.
“AJAX!—AH!—SLOW DOWN!” you choked out, voice breaking as the couch squealed under your weight, the fabric sticky with the mess dripping out of you.
He only groaned, eyes rolling back. “Ngh—gonna breed you—gonna cum so fuckin’ hard in this tight pussy. Archons—won’t stop till it takes.” His hips snapped deeper, cum spurting in hot waves as he trembled above you, panting, sweaty, high on the thought of you, round with his child.
Your body shook beneath him, tears soaking the cushions.
But Childe only pressed his lips to your temple, breathless and soft, as though you hadn’t just been broken down under him.
“Mm… Ajax Jr., if it’s a boy. Y/n if it’s a girl.” He hummed sweetly, cuddling you against his chest like a man in love, while you lay half-dead, body leaking from his hours-long assault.
By morning, he’s already on top of you again preparing the next breeding session.
“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he hovered over your tired form, smiling like nothing was wrong.
“You’ll thank me once you’re pregnant.♡”
🥞 NEUVILLETTE — The Dutiful Hubby:
Neuvillette stood in the bathroom, sleeves rolled up, carefully wringing out a cloth.
A porcelain basin sat waiting on the counter, filled with steaming water that smelled faintly of lavender. Fresh towels were stacked neatly, a change of clothes folded beside them.
He had been preparing for you.
His pale eyes lifted as the melusines dropped you off, locking onto your crumpled form on the floor. A faint frown tugged at his lips, though his voice when he spoke was soft, gentle, almost reverent.
“You’re home,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “Why did you leave? Look at you—you’re shaking.”
He placed the cloth aside, hands steady, movements deliberate. Too deliberate. The calm of a man fighting something far more feral under the surface.
“Come. I’ll clean you up.”
His overprotectiveness was suffocating—his shadow followed you everywhere, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
But Neuvillette didn’t see it that way. To him, serving you was his sacred duty. A duty that was non-negotiable, all-consuming.
It wasn’t about what you wanted. It was about what he believed you needed.
When you escaped, he broke. Fontaine bore the weight of his grief in days of endless rain, waterlogged streets echoing his despair.
He kept asking himself why.
Why wasn’t he enough?
Hasn’t he given you everything?
His human heart whispered that he had failed you. But the dragon inside him—hungry, restless—roared things he dared not speak aloud.
She is weak without me. She cannot live without me.
Her blood calls to me—proof she is fertile, proof she must be claimed. Her pain is mine to ease.
Her body is mine to mend. Her womb is mine to fill.
The thoughts shamed him, horrified him. And yet they thrilled him.
You crumpled with a sharp gasp as a cramp seized your body, curling into yourself on the floor.
His eyes softened immediately. The sight of you trembling, tears spilling down your cheeks, cut him open.
“Beloved…” he whispered, taking a hesitant step closer. His composure cracked—this wasn’t control anymore, it was instinct.
His dragon side thrashed, urging him to scoop you up, to bury his face between your legs, to drink, to heal, to breed.
Your whimpers only deepened the fracture in his restraint.
He should punish you for your defiance—for the way you hurt him when you ran.
But his chest ached at the very thought. How could he punish the only soul who mattered?
His voice cracked, low and desperate, as though the words themselves might break him.
“I swore to protect you. To serve you. Even from yourself.”
He abandoned the towel in his hand, wet and crumpled, and walked closer, but when you scrambled away, panic flashing in your eyes, his heart shattered.
The rain outside tapped harder against the window, mimicking the tears gathering in his own lashes as he reached for you, apology spilling from him in a torrent.
“Don’t—don’t look at me like that. Please,” he begged, kneeling, hands trembling though his voice tried to steady itself. “I would never harm you. You are my purpose. My sanctity. My… wife.”
For a moment, you almost believed him. Almost.
Then his breath hitched. His eyes darkened, glowing faintly, and before you could recoil, his body surged forward—pinning you flat against the fluffy mat.
“Where would you even go, my love?” His tone was low, trembling between anguish and hunger. “You cannot run from me. Not when your pain calls to me. Not when your blood cries out for my touch.”
His eyes flickered wildly—purple one moment, glowing feral the next—as he hovered above you, trembling hands cupping your face. “Forgive me,” he whispered, even as his cock strained thick and swollen against his trousers.
Your squirming only made it worse, the friction dragging a strangled groan from his throat.
“Ngh—stop—d-don’t move like that—” His restraint shattered.
With a guttural growl, his mouth slammed against your neck, teeth piercing flesh. You cried out as hot blood welled, only for his tongue to lap at the mess greedily, desperate, reverent.
He rutted against you on the bathroom tiles, curses breaking past his lips in ragged bursts.“I swore to protect you… but—hngh!—you make me… lose myself.”
In one brutal motion, he shoved your legs up to your shoulders, splitting you open beneath his broad weight.
His cock—longer, thicker, crueler than you thought possible—slid against your folds before forcing its way inside.
Ouch.Your poor coochie...
The stretch burned, your scream muffled by his feverish kiss.
“Ahhh—beloved,” he moaned, voice breaking into something almost bestial. “Tight—so perfect—my wife, my mate, my duty.” His hips slammed forward, dragon strength snapping the porcelain edge of the tub as he braced himself, claws digging into the tile.
Your nails raked at his chest, weak pushes against his relentless weight. “Y-you’re insane! N-neuvi—, ah! stop!”
He only trembled, tears gathering in his lashes as his cock drove deeper, wetter, messier with every thrust.
Blood smeared across the clean floor where his knees dragged, your breasts bouncing violently with each snap of his hips.
“A-apologies—but this is mercy,” he choked, fucking harder, voice breaking into a roar that shook the walls. “Sex will soothe your pain—fill your womb—make you whole again. Don’t you see? I am serving you. I am a good mate. I am—yours.”
The storm outside raged louder, wind rattling the panes, rain pounding in sheets as though Fontaine itself screamed with you.
Overstimulation blurred into delirium—your body trembling, clenching, convulsing as he ground his hips deeper, chasing the heat that consumed him. His voice cracked, rambling feverishly against your ear.
“Don’t leave me. Don’t ever leave me. Without you, hah… I am nothing. W-with you—I am complete.”
His body shuddered violently, cock twitching deep inside as he came hard, pumping thick, scalding loads into your battered cunt until it leaked back down his shaft and onto the tiles.
He buried his face against your throat, sobbing and whispering apologies as his hips jerked through the aftershocks.
When it was over, he carried you—limp, shaking—to the porcelain tub. He sat you inside gently, turning on the warm water, his hands washing blood and cum from your skin with painstaking tenderness.
As though the cracks in the tile, the bruises on your body, the storm outside didn’t exist.
“There,” he murmured, pressing a trembling kiss to your temple as he wrung out the lavender cloth. “Clean. Safe. Mine.”
He tucked a towel around your shoulders, humming softly like nothing had happened at all.
🥞 VARKA — The Golden Retriever Hubby:
He screwed up. Bad.
Pacing the living room in a frilly red set of lace that clung awkwardly to his big frame, Varka dragged a hand through his blonde hair, muttering to himself.
Usually, this man was happy, mischievous, and almost puppy-like in nature.
But right now?
He was spiraling.
Varka followed you to work.
Made a scene.
Got you fired.
His excuse?—“You’re working too much!”—rang hollow even to his own ears.
The truth was obvious: he didn’t want you leaving the house anymore.
“She’ll forgive me,” he whispered, nodding to himself as if that would make it true. “I’ll show her I can be good.”
From your seat at the table, your heart pounded. He cooed over his “special surprise,” humming sweetly while arranging something out of sight.
His voice carried the same playful tone as always, but your gut twisted.
You weren’t tied down this time, yet something in your bones told you not to test him.
After all, he wasn’t just some lovesick fool. He’d once been a military commander.
A scar along his neck still reminded you of that past—the part of him you’d rather not see wake up again.
When he finally turned around, the sight made you choke on your spit.
His cock, massive and heavy, stood hard against the delicate lingerie, veins prominent, the tip smeared with a swirl of whipped cream. He grinned at you with hearts in his eyes, voice rough but giddy.
“Look, sweetheart,” he breathed, presenting himself like an offering. “Something sweet… just for you. C’mon, don’t be shy. Husbands are supposed to spoil their wives.”
He set himself on the table right in front of you, laughing breathlessly, his chest heaving. The lace strained over his broad body comically, obscenely.
“Don’t make me beg, baby,” he crooned, stroking himself slowly, the cream smearing messily down his shaft. “You know I’d do anything for you. Just… show me you still love me.”
Your stomach dropped. Like hell you were putting that monstrous thing down your throat.
But the way his gaze locked on you—wild, pleading, dangerous—you realized the answer didn’t really matter.
“Pleaseeeee, baby,” he whined, his big frame trembling as he leaned closer, voice almost breaking. “Don’t make me beg on my knees. Just… just one taste. I need it. I need you. Say ah~”
You scrunched your face, lips pressed tight, disgust written all over you. He pouted, eyes wide, almost pitiful.
Then—suddenly—his hand clamped over your jaw, prying it open, and before you could resist, his cock was forcing its way down, heavy and thick, hitting the back of your throat in one brutal thrust.
“Fuhhhck, yes,” he groaned, head tipping back, pupils glowing and forming into frantic heart shapes. Drool ran from the corner of his mouth as he panted, chest heaving. “Been n-needing this. Don’t—don’t move. Just stay like that—ah, shit—so warm.”
You gagged and sputtered, nails digging into the table, trying to pull back, but his grip locked tight around your skull with terrifying strength.
His lidded eyes burned down at you, spit dripping from his lips onto your face as his hips began to snap forward.
“Don’t move, that’s… ah, f-fuck!” His voice cracked into a growl, sliding into something darker, something closer to the commander he once was. “Take it. That’s an order.”
Tears welled in your eyes as his cock battered into the depths of your gullet, each thrust violent, forcing you to choke and gag.
“Ahhh—Archons, I love you. I love you so much, baby—don’t you get it? You’re mine.” His voice wavered, breaking into desperate whimpers. “Can’t lose you. Not again. Never again.”
The table rattled under his force, your legs scraping helplessly against the floor as he used you like a cocksleeve.
He leaned harder into it, eyes rolling back, confession spilling out between ragged moans. “Quit everything—quit my job—couldn’t stand being away. SHIT!, tried to hold back, I really did, but it just got worse, baby, worse and worse. And then you—oh god, you started pulling away—”
He slammed into your throat brutally, his heavy balls smacking against your chin.
“Take it! Take it all, ahhh—so pretty like this. a—dorable little wife with her mouth stuffed full—what else do you even need?!”
Your jaw throbbed, aching from the stretch, but he didn’t notice—too far gone, rutting into your face like he’d die without it.
His manic grin split wider, laughter bubbling up as his voice cracked.
“Got you fired, yeah. Heh—fuck it—couldn’t let you go back there. Couldn’t let them see you smile. You’re mine. My girl. My everything. You loved me before—why’s it so hard now?”
The table rocked violently as his thrusts grew savage, holding your head flush against him, muffling your cries into the thick girth, stretching your airway.
“Please, please, please, please!” he begged, voice desperate, unhinged. “Love me! Just—just love me back!”
Your vision swam, pain radiating through your neck as he held you in place, rutting faster, each thrust deeper than the last.
“You don’t need the outside world,” he growled, spit flying as he pounded harder. “You don’t need friends. Don’t need a job. Don’t need a future. You don’t need anything. Just this. Just me!”
Another brutal snap of his hips, forcing your throat to convulse around him.
“Everything you need is right here—with your pretty mouth choking on my cock where it belongs.”
His thrusts grew sloppy, frantic, the table shaking under the weight of him rutting into your face. His voice cracked into ragged moans, babbling between sobs and laughter.
“Nghh!—ahh!, cumming!—gonna give you everything—fill you till you can’t breathe without me!—”
With one last brutal shove, he buried himself to the base, cock twitching violently as hot streams of cum flooded your gullet.
You gagged, choking, your stomach twisting from the overload.
You sputtered, gagging so hard you puked, sticky streams of cum spilling back out onto your lips and chin, flowing out your nose.
Varka only cooed lovingly, cupping your sweaty face, kissing your forehead tenderly. “Ohh, look at you, baby. Good girl. Such a good girl for me. Ate so well, didn’t you? I just fed you your dinner, hm? My perfect wife.”
You were shaking, vision swimming, an existential dread curling in your chest.
Oblivious to your crisis he pulled you up into his massive arms, wrapping you in a bone-crushing hug. He peppered sloppy smooches all over your face—your cheeks, your temple, even your tearstained mouth.
“I’ll take care of you forever,” he whispered, rocking you like you were fragile. “No bosses, no one to hurt you. Just my special meals. They don’t deserve you. You’re mine. You’re ours.”
His grin widened as he licked your face, manic devotion glowing in his dark blue eyes.
“I’ve got plenty of money anyway. We don’t need anyone else. Isn’t this the best life you could ask for? Isn’t your husband the best? ♡”
He kissed you again, tasting the mix of salt, spit, and cum on your lips, humming happily to himself.
🥞 WRIOTHESLEY — The “Provider” Hubby:
The smell of pancakes drifted through the house, sweet and buttery, almost enough to mask the muffled screams still echoing from the bedroom.
Wriothesley stood in the kitchen in nothing but a pair of black briefs, humming under his breath as he flipped a pancake with practiced ease.
Calm. Collected. Like he hadn’t spent the entire night breaking you down.
He poured tea, settled into a chair, and chuckled to himself as he scrolled lazily through his phone. “Mm. Wore her out good,” he muttered, smirking into the steam before taking a slow sip.
When breakfast was ready, he arranged everything neatly on a tray, even added a little folded napkin for flair, then padded down the hall.
The door creaked open to reveal you bound to the bedpost, wrists cuffed, mouth gagged, eyes burning holes into him.
“Morning, sunshine,” he drawled.
He set the tray on the nightstand, sat on the edge of the bed, and cooed, squishing your cheeks.
His grin widened when you tried to kick him. Catching your ankle effortlessly, he tsked like you were a misbehaving child.
“Still mad at me?” he teased, icy eyes glinting as he plucked the gag from your mouth.
The first thing you did was spit in his face.
Wriothesley only laughed, low and warm, wiping his cheek with the napkin meant for your breakfast. “Feisty. Cute.”
He scooped up a spoonful of pancakes, brought it to your lips.
You turned your head.
He sighed dramatically, popped the bite into his own mouth, chewed slowly, then leaned in and kissed you, forcing the food past your lips.
“Swallow.”
Disgusting
You choked, but obeyed. His grin softened. “Good girl.~”
He fed you another bite, voice calm, casual, like he was making small talk over morning tea. “You really shouldn’t have run. And you really shouldn’t have thought she could hide you, hm?”
Another spoonful, gently pressed to your lips. “She’s dead now. You don’t have to worry about her anymore.”
Your stomach twisted, but before you could speak, his tone shifted—quieter, lower, almost sulking.
His thumb brushed your cheek, his expression oddly boyish, almost pouty, despite the steel in his grip.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he murmured, eyes locking with yours. “You know I only do this because I love you. Because no one else can.”
“Our son needs his mother to be happy. Don’t make him think he’s the reason you cry.”
“Yeah? You’re the fucking reason!”
He only scoffed, shaking his head like you were being dramatic.
A warm palm cupped your cheek, deceptively tender. “If you just relax, I’ll take care of everything. No bills. No stress. No… freedom to ruin yourself.”
“YOU ASS—”
The words choked off when he shoved a piece of pancake into your mouth, syrup dribbling down your chin.
He leaned in, tongue dragging up the sticky trail, humming like it was his favorite flavor.
“Mm. Sweetheart, even your anger tastes good.”
He pulled out his phone, camera light flicking on. Your eyes went wide.
“Don’t look at me like that. Smile for the camera, sweetheart. Let’s make a memory.~”
The lens lingered on your face as you turned away. His voice dropped, tone silkier now. “Not cooperating? Then I’ll just record something better.”
The mattress dipped as he climbed over you, settling the tray aside. Flipping you on your knees, the cuffs tightening around your wrists.
His lips brushed your cheek as his free hand slipped between your thighs, fingers prying you open.
“You’ll let me feed you breakfast, but not let me feed this greedy little cunt?” His chuckle vibrated against your ear. “You’re not very consistent, hm?”
The first press of his cock against your slit made you jolt against the cuffs. He only murmured soothingly, angling the phone so the camera caught your trembling body stretched beneath him.
“Shhh… don’t fight. You look so much cuter when you accept it.”
His hips rocked into you slowly, deliberately, letting you feel every inch. The sound of your slick was obscene, mixing with the faint hum of him recording.
“That’s it. Arch for me.” He landed a sharp spank across your ass, the camera catching the way your skin rippled and reddened under his palm.
“Perfect. Again.”
Another slap, harder, timed with a deeper thrust.
“Answer me, sweetheart,” he cooed, filming the jiggle of your ass as he slammed into you. “Who provides for you? Who keeps you safe?”
You whimpered, vision hazy, words slurring incoherent.
SMACK.
“Wrong answer.”
His hand slid to your throat, squeezing just enough to cut off your protest as his thrusts grew sharper.
He leaned close, voice breaking into a low groan.“You can’t escape me. Not when we’ve got him—our boy—tying us together. You’ll always come back. Because you’re mine. Because you’re the perfect wife.”
Your body jolted with every snap of his hips, the camera capturing it all—the spit dripping from your lips, the tears on your cheeks, the way your ass reddened under his palm.
“Say it,” he panted, cock twitching deep inside you. “Say I’m- ngh! T-the only one you need. The only husband you’ll ever have.”
When you sputtered another curse, his groan turned guttural, his hips snapping rougher, his voice breaking.
“Shit!– you don't get it. I am everything. Provider. Protector. Husband. Father. You don’t need the world. You j-just need me.”
He came with a loud, unrestrained moan, burying himself to the hilt, grinding to keep every drop inside.
The camera caught his trembling body over yours, his hand tight around your throat as he whispered, almost tender:
“Hah…ah….mm…You get good dick. You get a good life. Why would you leave?”
When he pulled out, you flopped into the sheets, body ruined, wrists raw from the cuffs.
He only kissed your temple, tucking the blanket neatly around you. “Mm, we should play cops and robbers next time.~” He saved the video, definitely using it to get off to later.
“Rest up. I’ll bring lunch later.”
The sound of him humming drifted back as he walked out, the clatter of dishes and running water echoing from the kitchen, replaying the video on speaker.
a/n: 0/10 don't recommend. Divorce, they assess. But they would prolly burn the papers anyway, fun fact childe's piece is a personal fear of mines.
thinking about how your husband changes drastically when he’s had just a little too much to drink. his faint, whiny hiccups would escape his quivering lips, filling your ears with his intoxication as he leans against you. he reaches out to play with your hair, gently tugging at the strands and trailing undirected kisses along them as you bite your lip to suppress your giggles. he then brings his unsteady hands to your face, squishing your cheeks before pulling you closer, looking at you with glossy eyes—small hearts seemingly etched into his pupils.
"i wish y-you hic were mineee...."
"pftt—" you burst into a fit of laughter at his uncharacteristic neediness—you’ve always enjoyed it when he'd get drunk. after all, they say a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts. so, although he loves you an awful lot, he would never admit, while whining, how much he actually wants you.
"i am yours though, sweetheart," you reassure him softly.
“oh, really? you are?” he raises his brows questionably, “well, that's good... i couldn't bear the thought of some other loser having you all to himself."
unbeknownst to him, however, is that you had recorded him during his moment of vulnerability. he was absolutely embarrassed and ashamed of himself when he had sobered up.
Men who you can easily control and convince of things if you use your nuclear bombs, also known as your boobs.
There he was, sitting in that chair and reading documents for the past 4 hours. It is midnight and he still refuses to go to bed because those documents were apparently ‘really important’ and due tomorrow. Although you recognize his hardworking spirit, sometimes he takes it too far.
That’s why you used your biggest weapon.
You flashed him.
“I’m sorry, my love, but I really need to—” That exact moment of him finally turning his face to stare you back was when you lifted up your shirt, making him paralyze immediately.
His face was stoned at a perfect angle where he could clearly see and appreciate your breathing boobs, his eyes getting dry from the lack of blinking.
“Don’t you think you’ve worked a lot today already? You need have good-quality sleep if you want to work well…” You decided to act extra mean to him and used your hand to squeeze them in their favorite way.
He kept staring at your boobs in silence for some awkward seconds.
…
…
…
“Ok.” He immediately dropped his pen and jumped out of his chair and launched his mouth towards one of your breasts, taking it like he has been starving for it for years now.
Yandere genshin voicelines from other characters say about you and relationship status
Johnny, you told me
You were no fool, you were no chump
Then you got cold feet
Now all you'll be is a speed bump
Yandere genshin men x reader ( Diluc, zhongli, neuvillette, varka )
( sorry if it's a little messy in grammar or does not match the voicelines )
>> DILUC ( featuring kaeya, jean and klee )
Kaeya ( About Family )
During the weekends I usually would visit dawn winery to check up on ( name ), huh... Wait–you don't know her... I guess it's understandable since diluc is extremely overprotective over her and doesn't want to reveal too much. ( Name ) Is diluc lawfully wedded spouse and my sister in law, she is such a sweetheart even though diluc is the exact opposite. I sometimes sympathize with her, out of all the men in mondstat including myself–she caught the eye of the most selfish one.
Jean ( About Lady Ragnvindr )
Lady Ragnvindr or ( name ) Ragnvindr is a mysterious woman, even though me and diluc have been friends since childhood– he doesn't wish to talk about her. All I know is that when he came back from his trip to snezhnaya, he brought her home from Nod-Krai. I only have brief interactions with her and I must say– I quite enjoy her presence, me and her would discuss our favorite romance novels but recently I rarely get to see her due to Master Diluc overprotective nature. I sometimes wish that Master Diluc would let her go once in a while but I guess that's Diluc for you.
Klee ( About Dawn Winery )
Big sister ( name ) is the best–me and kaeya would visit Dawn Winery just to see her. I wish to bring her outside to go adventuring with me, but Master diluc stern as ever wouldn't let her go or even sometimes see her. Why is he so grumpy?... klee doesn't know. Every time we visit–klee is sent home when Master diluc arrives, kaeya would ussure klee to leave because – both master diluc and big sister would have grown up time in his office. Klee once asked what they were doing but kaeya said that I will understand once I'm older.
Once in a while, moon carver would host a gathering at Qingyun Peaks–and during occasions like this, Lady ( Name ) is allowed to go out during these events–i have served rex lapis for three thousand years and there's never been a day that rex lapis doesn't love her, there's no doubt he truly value her in the highest esteem.
Xiao ( About The Archon War )
During the archon war, I was tasked to be a body guard for the lady while rex lapis is away. She and I have brief interactions–i sometimes feel pity for her due to how over protective he is for her. The lady has to follow a strict rule of not going outside from the nest that he prepared–even though she begged me to let her see the sun and feel the grass, but i was stern and wouldn't disobey his orders after everything he did for me. I guess she also gave up on the idea of freedom.
Xinyun ( About Liyue Harbor )
One never once doubted the judgement of rex lapis, his reign is the reason why Liyue is able to prosper for so many years. Imagine one surprise when he brought a consort, Lady ( name ) was nothing but a minor goddess in chenyu vale. She nursed him back to health after one of his battles, such a pity–one mere act of goodwill led towards catching the eye of the God Of Contracts. Even after integrating into human life, he still kept her in the dark–not allowing her to go out.
It is such a shame, truly... I'm pretty much sure you are already aware of madame ( name ) is expecting. Truly I felt pity for her, last time I met her she looks exhausted beyond belief–even though I offer her assistant to break her out, I can see in her eyes that she simply had already given up on the idea of freedom. I wish her luck on her and her future child, unfortunately I'm only able to give these words of encouragement.
Furina ( About The Opera House )
Neuvillete and madam ( name ) would come visit one of my shows if their schedules are free, or in other words– when neuvillete schedule is free. During my time as the hydro archon, both me and her would get along and interact on a daily basis... We even have tea parties together... Of course if neuvillete permits it.
Sigewine ( About Spring Season )
Every time spring approaches, monsieur neuvillete and the madam would go to the countryside for one week... Not sure why, because every time I ask about it–monsieur neuvillete would brush it off saying that it ties towards his nature and as well as how it changes throughout the seasons. He is always so affectionate towards her during this season and wouldn't even allow her to go out.
Varka ( Featuring Mika, Kaeya, Jean )
Mika ( About letters )
Words cannot be expressed on how much the grandmaster loved his wife... Literally, one of my usual tasked is to send important letters back to mondstat–and one of those letters are grandmaster varka letters to his wife... The pile can be quite big to the point he daily writes 50 letters to her, i-i couldn't disclose what he usually writes but just to let you know–it's better off you didn't know what he usually said towards her, because it's usually too provocative for anyone... Trust me, I read a few lines in one of the letters–and he is quite perverted
Kaeya ( About Mondstat )
Grandmaster Varka asked me to keep watch on ( name ) on a daily basis, keeping a check on her–making sure she is well behaved. He is quite a lover man wouldn't you agree ?, despite being his age–he is quite eccentric to experience new things with his wife, probably the reason why she always looks exhausted everyday as well as limping.
Jean ( About Paper work )
Lady ( name ) has been nothing but such a good helper for me–when the workload is overwhelming for me, she would lend her assistant. She is much happier and more energetic for the past few months after varka left for his expedition, probably because Grandmaster Varka is not here to constantly drag her to somewhere as well as not tired her with his energy and endless pursuit of love. Truly she is nothing but helpful for me and the rest of the knights, words cannot express how grateful I am.
various genshin boys! : Zhongli, Kazuha, Diluc, Alhaitham, Xiao, Thoma, Scaramouche, Neuvillette, and Cyno!
masterlist
Zhongli
He doesn’t say “I love you” often but he remembers the smallest details about you—how you take your tea, what time you usually get tired, and he quietly arranges your entire world so it’s softer without you even noticing.
Kazuha
He doesn’t say “I love you” often but he writes it into the wind for you—every gentle breeze that finds you feels like a quiet promise that you’re never alone, no matter how far apart you are
Diluc
He doesn’t say “I love you” often but he makes sure you’re always safe first—walking you home in silence, placing himself between you and danger without hesitation, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
Alhaitham
He doesn’t say “I love you” often but he always answers your questions—even the unnecessary ones—because listening to you talk is one of the few things that actually matters.
Xiao
He doesn’t say “I love you” often but he appears when you’re in danger before you even realize it, and disappears just as quickly, leaving behind only the faint sound of his presence like a vow he refuses to speak aloud.
Thoma
He doesn’t say “I love you” often but it shows in everything he does—your favorite meals always appear, your space is always warm and cared for, and somehow your problems feel lighter when he’s around.
Scaramouche
He doesn’t say “I love you” often but he stays. Even when he acts like he doesn’t care, he always ends up lingering near you a little longer than necessary—like leaving is easier said than done.
Neuvillette
He doesn’t say “I love you” often but he listens with full attention, as if every word you speak carries weight in a world he is quietly responsible for. And somehow, you feel… understood without needing to ask.
Cyno
He doesn’t say “I love you” often but he shows up at your door with jokes that don’t always land and a presence that somehow makes everything feel safer just by being there.
—————————————————————————
note: gonna make part two of this hihihi and probably another one with genshin girls
moment during the holidays where they confess. / fluff / no cw / other: you’re best friends in all scenarios! implied to have known each other for quite some time. (❕) a/n: IT’S DONE. IT’S DONEEE!! by the way, not all of the characters are going to have a romantic verbal declaration of their feelings, either because of how their story flowed when i wrote it or because it seemed better to leave some things unsaid. but through actions, those characters do confess. tagging: @aritsukemo
you nod your head as you sketch the design out on a piece of paper. “well, actually, not exactly…”
you smile up at albedo’s curious face. “klee’s idea.”
he takes the paper and holds up her idea of a “snowman” closer to his face. it shows an image of three of her explosives stacked on each other, all with faces and intricate detailing.
“i suppose…”
that’s how he finds himself outside, rolling snow around to form spheres as you make the more smaller designs.
you puff out a cold breath as you run your finger over the overly perfect sphere albedo rolled.
“as calculating as ever, huh?” you find yourself saying, a smile playing on your face as you glance up at him from your crouched position.
“is it not to your liking? should i make them rounder?” he asks.
“no, you’re fine. they’re perfect already!” you reply.
you feel him stare at you before continuing to roll.
the hours fly by, the finished product looking pretty much identical to the concept klee wanted. you step back to admire your work with albedo.
you look at him, only to find him already staring at you.
“oh, ah, good job! you did really good!” you say, a little flustered from how intense his gaze was.
“you as well.” he replies smoothly.
“oh yeah! klee wanted a picture with us with the sculpture… okay.” you take your kamera and position yourself on one side of the “snowman” as albedo goes to the other side.
he offers a small smile to the kamera as you offer a more shakier one. first that intense stare from earlier, and now that smile…? this guy…
you awkwardly laugh off your nerves. “i hope klee likes what we built.”
“could i take a solo shot of you with the snow sculpture?” albedo suddenly asks.
a… a solo shot?
you try to gain your composure. “a… i… sure, how come?”
“i think klee would like it. she seems to favor you, after all.” he hits you with another smile that has you feeling weak. you wonder if he knows that he has that effect.
you don’t believe what he said one bit, but you comply anyways, smiling at the kamera. what bad intentions could he possibly have with that anyways?
you don’t see the purpose until days later.
you stumble across a canvas on your visit to dragonspine to visit albedo in his lab.
and on the canvas was a beautifully painted you standing next to the sculpture you two built together, in the corner a small word.
love.
you tap your foot and close your book. you were over at alhaitham’s house, the two of you choosing to read peacefully in each other’s company over socializing. an hour or so had passed, your eyes beginning to hurt.
you look outside and see it snowing, the spectacle a sight for sore eyes. you turn to your companion.
“hey, ‘haitham,” you draw his attention by calling his name a couple times, “do you wanna take a break and go outside for a bit? it’s snowing, and…”
he looks back down at his book. “i’d rather not.”
you frown but don’t press further. “alright then, i guess…”
your heart sinks a little, but what were you expecting?
you prepare to go outside, and when you open and close the front door you do it with as much silence as you can.
outside, it’s beautiful. easy on your tired eyes as you stay standing in place, admiring the view. you find yourself losing track of time, growing absorbed in your thoughts as the light in the sky changes to become a little darker.
you hear the door behind you open.
it’s alhaitham, holding a cup emitting steam from its contents.
“oh… hey,” you say. you ignore how your immediate thought upon seeing him is how good he looks wearing winter clothes.
“… you’ve been out here for a while,” he remarks, “i was worried something had happened.”
you smile a little at his uncharacteristic care.“sorry, i lost track of the time. it’s just a really nice view.”
it stays silent for a couple seconds before he speaks up again.
“i made you a drink.”
“oh, thanks!”
he gives it to you carefully. you blow on the drink before taking a sip. it does wonders for your numb face.
“…it’s good. i’m… uh… going to stay out here for a little longer, so…”
alhaitham looks out into the snow. “i’ll stay with you.”
“huh…?”
he lowers his voice, “i… apologize for speaking so harshly to you earlier.”
“oh, no worries! i— uh… didn’t take it personally,” you lie.
“something tells me that’s not the truth.”
you folded, “okay, so, maybe i took it a little personal, but i’m over it.”
he shakes his head. “it was uncalled for. i’ll be sure to watch myself in the future.”
“it’s okay, really!”
he sighs in return. “let’s go eat somewhere. i know you haven’t eaten lunch today.”
“i don’t have m—”
“it’s on me.”
“… did i do something? you’re being oddly nice…” you look at him with mock suspicion. he mutters something under his breath.
“… what was that?” you ask, not sure you heard him correctly.
“… Main tumse pyar kartha hoon.”
you recognize that he’s speaking in a different language, but he’s saying his words so quietly that you can’t fully decipher them. the cold harsh winds freezing your ears aren’t helping either. but it almost sounded like…
he begins walking away, leaving you dumbfounded. “are you coming, or?”
“i’m not going out there, childe.”
“but it’s beautiful out here!” he takes your hands and gives you his best puppy eyes look.
you sigh, suddenly regretting even opening your door to him. “fine, fine. whatever. you owe me.”
he gives you a cheeky smile as you pull on a coat. “dinner’s on me!”
upon stepping outside and closing the door behind you, a gust of wind immediately hits you in the face. you shiver as childe drags you along into the snow. his fingers grasp your hand, probably to prevent you from escaping.
“… do we have to do this today?” you ask as he simply laughs at your suffering.
“it’ll be worth it, trust me!” he replies, squeezing your hand.
you squeeze back, the warmth you share through that link keeping your fingers from losing feeling and your face from being ice-cold from the frigid winds. the way you held hands like a couple made you almost want the journey to be longer.
you stop in front of a scenery with a frozen over lake surrounded by rocks caked with snow. you begin to see why he’s so intent on going to this place, it’s serene.
he looks over at your reaction.
“was it worth it?”
you sigh and nod. “it was…”
“i checked if the ice was safe to skate on earlier.”
you glance over at him as he tosses you a pair of skates.
“where in the world—?!”
“put them on, i’ll teach you how to skate!” he says while putting on his own.
you hesitantly mirror what he’s doing. “since when do you know how to skate?”
“i taught my siblings! trust me, you’ll be okay.” he assures.
you’re a little nervous, mostly because the guy teaching you is the most reckless person you know, but at the same time you know he’s trustworthy.
so you take his outstretched hands as he slowly guides you onto the ice.
once he’s sure you’re still and not about to fall, he gives you the basics.
“point your feet out and alternate which foot is bearing the weight. bend your knees…”
“i think i’ve got it,” you nod along as you internally panic at the thought of falling on your face in front of him.
holding onto you firmly, he slowly begins moving. you start moving as well, albeit less gracefully.
“that’s good! steady now…” he gives a reassuring smile.
you skate along the lake’s edges so that if you fall, you can fall into the snow. you feel childe’s eyes on you as he guides you around, a teasing grin on his face as you hold his hands for dear life. if you weren’t so focused on not falling and eating the ice, you’d be stoked about how romantic this all is.
a gentle snowfall begins to come down as the sun starts to set.
“hm, it’s growing darker… we should probably get going.” childe says with a little disappointment in his voice. you agree as he brings you to where you both entered the lake.
“whew, okay… i actually did better than i thought i would…” you mutter.
“you did great for a beginner,” childe agrees. “i’m proud of you!”
you fully look at him, noticing the snowflakes clinging to his hair and the rosiness on his face.
everything seems to stand still.
“childe?”
“yeah?”
“this was really fun, thank you.”
he seems a little surprised, maybe even bashful, before smiling widely and saying, “i’m glad.”
you smile a bit wider as well at the giddy look on his face.
childe leans in closer. “i know this is coming out of nowhere, but…”
you squeeze his hands and he mimics the action.
“… i really like you. closer to love. and i understand if you—”
you cut him off by kissing him softly, the cold suddenly nonexistent and every limb of yours flooded with feeling.
he kisses you back after getting over the initial stun.
and when you separate, he says, “so, dinner date?”
“i know i’m able to go myself, but… it’s known to be dangerous there, especially at night, and i… well… think that you need a break as well.”
you invited cyno to a festival while out eating with him.
you even bought him proper clothes for colder conditions, which he seemed to appreciate (even though he truly didn’t need them).
so that’s what led him here, holding your hand “just in case” as you walked along the decorated streets. all the glimmering lights, the smells of homemade baking, and the sounds of all the other people walking the same street meshing together to create a distinct ambience.
“it’s beautiful, i’m so glad you were able to come!” you look over at him, finding his eyes focused on you.
he blinks. “i agree. thank you for inviting me.”
“it’s no problem!” you smile, your heart beating in your ears as he clutches your hand a little tighter.
you see him glance over at a few kids building a snowman. “hm…”
uh oh.
“what do snowmen call their kids?”
“… what?”
“chill-dren.”
“oh… haha…!”
“you see, because—”
“don’t worry, i get it.”
you continue walking down the street and spot a stall selling drinks.
“do you want something to drink?” you ask cyno. “i’ll pay!”
he thinks for a second before replying. “sure… but you don’t need to pay for me.”
“it’s really fine,” you reply, taking out mora.
“what are you ordering?” he asks.
“probably the special for today…”
before you can say anything else, cyno's already speaking to the person in the stall and handing his own mora over.
“wait, cyno—”
he looks over at you, “don’t worry. i have more than enough to pay for the two of us.”
that’s not the problem!!…
“oh!” the vendor speaks up, “sorry, i just realized! it’s half off for couples for the season! here’s some of your mora back, sir!”
“couple?!…” “couple…?” you and cyno say together, but the vendor’s already off making your drinks.
cyno retrieves the mora on the counter as you both step aside for the next people in line.
oh… it’s probably because we’re holding hands…
you peer over at cyno. he doesn’t seem bothered by it, save for the soft blush on his face… cute.
he looks directly at you.
“oh, um… thanks for paying. you really didn’t need to…” you stammer, a little distracted by how intense his gaze is.
“it’s no problem,” he replies, “i wanted to.”
“… i—”
“two specials!” the vendor calls out, sliding your drinks on the counter to grab. cyno lets go of your hand and gets the cups, handing you yours when he comes back.
“thank you,” you take your drink, fingers brushing along cyno's.
“were you about to say something before?” he asks, grabbing hold of your hand again.
you shake your head, “no, nothing really!”
and you leave it at that as you continue walking hand in hand, taking occasional sips from your drink as you contemplate striking up a conversation or not.
a couple minutes of walking later, cyno calls your name. when you look at him, he simply motions to the sky.
fireworks of all colors burst here and there, lights going off in the sky as people marvel at the spectacle. you almost miss the way cyno moves closer. you look to your side, finding him watching you.
“cyno?”
“i love you.”
your eyes widen, your mouth unable to make a sound as he speaks.
“… sorry.”
you snap out of your stupor as you move the hand holding his to cup his face, pulling him in for a quick kiss.
“i love you too,” you return.
he smiles softly, unable to stop himself as he pulls you in for another kiss under the fireworks.
you wish you had your gloves with you.
you rub your hands together, trying to get some feeling back into your fingers, to no avail.
thankfully, you reach angel’s share just as the thought of your limbs falling off from the cold entered your mind.
you stop outside as diluc, having closed the tavern, walks out the door. he looks tired, poor guy.
upon seeing you, he pauses.
“have you been waiting for long?”
you shake your head. “no, don’t worry. i just got here, actually!”
“i’m glad,” he says before walking over to you, the crunching of snow beneath his feet being the loudest thing you can hear at the moment.
he glances at your hands, put together as if huddling in order to preserve heat.
“what happened to your gloves?” he asks.
“i… was rushing and forgot to bring them. they were buried somewhere and i was going to be late, so…” you say sheepishly.
“… i see… next time, you should prioritize your well being over meeting with me on time. it’s getting a lot colder, after all,”
you nod, meeting his eyes. they seemed so focused, a stark contrast to how you were feeling inside from what he just said.
hesitantly, he takes your hands into his.
you immediately feel your face heat up and your fingers start to tingle.
“they’re cold.” he quietly states. it’s such an obvious statement that you almost laugh.
you smile instead, “well, it is winter…”
diluc looks away bashfully as he subtly pulls your hands closer, just fully realizing what he’s doing.
“… apologies, here.” he quickly lets go and takes some gloves from his pocket, putting them on your hands that now felt painfully empty.
you try to offer reassurance by smiling. “thank you… i, um, should we get going?”
he takes a moment to answer before replying with a simple, “we should,” and an extending of his hand. you take it.
you both don’t take a step.
you feel diluc squeeze your hand.
“i think i’m in love with you.”
“cheers!”
clink!
you and kaeya tap your glasses together before swigging back your drinks, you with a non-alcoholic beverage while kaeya drinks the opposite. after all, someone had to stay sober to drag kaeya out of the tavern, and it wasn’t going to be any of the other patrons and most especially not diluc.
“so, how’ve you been? it’s been quite a while since we’ve last spoken,” kaeya sweetly smiles at you.
you chuckle as you watch diluc roll his eyes before going elsewhere. “it’s only been a day?”
“i know what i said,” kaeya affirms, signaling for a refill.
“same as always… how’s work been?”
“same old thing. although, today i had to nurse a hangover on top of all that paperwork,” he sighs, taking a long sip from his drink.
“and whose fault is that?” you snicker. “guess we should leave earlier today before you drink yourself half-blind again.”
“actually,” kaeya nods, “i was thinking just that. but instead of going home, i was thinking we could just… walk around for a bit.”
you tilt your head a little out of curiosity. “sure, i’m open to that. any reason why?”
“just thought to break out of our usual routine. good change is healthy, you know?” he replies casually, swirling his drink around before sipping it.
you hum, “alright then, when do you want to leave?”
“maybe after a few drinks more,” he answers and then adds with a barely hearable mutter of something along the lines of, “for some extra liquid courage…”
you decide not to question him about it.
and you also decide not to question diluc’s odd behavior of not asking you two to pay, just leaving you with a “have a good night” when you and kaeya leave. he’s probably just going to put it on kaeya’s tab, you suppose.
but speaking of odd behavior…
“kaeya, are you okay?” you ask while walking beside him, “you’ve been completely silent since leaving the tavern…”
“mm, just deep in thought. nothing you need to worry your pretty little head over,” he replies smoothly, making your face suddenly grow hot.
“oh, okay!…” you immediately focus on the crunching of the snow beneath you as you both continue walking to who knows where.
you stop abruptly a few minutes later in front of a wall of snow.
kaeya walks in front of you. “could you close your eyes?”
you do so with a small smile on your face. you start to hear snow crumbling and feel a sort of mystical breeze? pass by before kaeya eventually sighs out.
“we’re here… you can open your eyes now.”
a flood of light enters your eyes, the sight before you something straight out of a fantasy novel. there were lanterns hung up, casting a romantic ambience over a fancy table with a rose in a vase and two cushioned chairs across from each other. there were flowers surrounding the furniture, blossoming instead of shriveling in the cold air. the moon’s light seemed to perfectly kiss the setting as kaeya gently took your hand.
“i wonder if i overdid it,” he chuckles.
“kaeya…!” you look to him, finding him staring at you. “this is…”
“i’ve liked you for awhile now. no, i’ve loved you for awhile now. you’ve always seen the most in me, past what others see me as. and i…”
he takes your other hand in his.
“… want to be with you. will you—”
you kiss him, catching kaeya by surprise before kissing you back.
he’s sure he’s never felt more drunk in his life.
(diluc was “hired” by kaeya to serve drinks and food at the romantic spot kaeya set up… he watches the scene and feels uncomfortable, but glad, that his brother is happy. he still wants payment, though, even though he doesn’t need it.)
it’s been two months.
you and kazuha were given separate duties, with him staying on the crux and you being dropped off at liyue.
you write letters back and forth; pictures, how things are going, small leaves tucked into the envelopes. the longing to meet him again isn’t getting any better the longer the wait gets.
you remember asking beidou,
“how long do you think before you guys come back?”
“i’d say around three months. you think you can handle being away from your lovebird for so long?” beidou teases.
you dramatically sigh, making beidou laugh softly at you. “i’ll try my best.”
it’s only been two months. you can’t help but worry a little as it gets colder. you wonder if the crew’s staying warm…
… you wonder if kazuha misses you as much as you miss him.
you blink back to reality. you’re sitting in wanmin restaurant, your food finished and paid for. you figure it’s about time you leave and head to the inn, with it getting late into the evening.
as soon as you exit, an envelope floats on down, catching your attention as you recognize the slight red tint in its color. it’s from kazuha! you can’t help the way your heart seems to jump as you grab it from the wind.
you open it carefully, pulling a pretty maple leaf out. it’s the biggest he’s sent, and it looks pretty fresh despite having traveled from so far.
next, you take the letter out. it simply says:
we’ve arrived at liyue harbor! see you soon!
you’re absolutely shocked. you reread the message once, maybe twice.
he’s… here?
after a few seconds more of processing, the excitement hits you.
he’s here!!
you find the harbor and see the crux immediately, scanning it to find one particular person. you notice it has a fine coat of snow, which some crew members are busy tucking off.
you squeeze past crowds of people to get to the ship, running on board like you’re running home.
then you see him right as he sees you, and within a blink of an eye you’re in his arms.
“…kazuha,” you sigh, hugging him back. “how…?”
“… we managed to finish up quicker than we anticipated,” he says with a small chuckle. “i… missed you.”
“i missed you too,” you whisper before quietly chuckling as well. “look at us, it’s only been two months…”
kazuha pulls his head back to look at you, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. he moves his hands to hold yours, holding eye contact as he smiles sweetly.
“… when we were apart… you would occupy my thoughts, day and night. i would look at the sun and think about the warmth you bestow onto my heart whenever we’re together, and i would look at the moon and think about how its light seems to favor you amongst all others.”
he takes a deep breath and says your name softly. “i love you. i understand if you don—”
“kazuha,” you say, gently cutting him off, “i love you too. i don’t think i can come up with something poetic at the moment to describe my feelings for you, but i couldn’t get you out of my head either. i love you.”
he cups your face, bringing you closer.
“may i kiss you?” he asks.
you close the gap between you as a response.
you and neuvillette had finished watching an opera. he was walking you home as you talked passionately about how the critics of the show were right (“for once”) as he listened, enjoying your voice and giving his own opinions a couple times.
“and the way it started snowing in the theater!!” you exclaim.
“it certainly was a sight to behold.” neuvillette agrees with a small smile.
you pause. “sorry… i just realized that i’ve been rambling for the majority of our walk, haha…”
“don’t apologize,” he replies. you feel his hand knock against yours— accidental or on purpose you don’t know— your face starting to heat up despite the action being hardly intimate.
“oh, um… you wanted to join me on my coffee break today, right?”
he nods, “yes, if it is alright with you.”
“of course it is!” you reply.
neuvillette, a stunning man that you’ve liked— which churned into something deeper— for all these years. you still get teased; from clorinde, from wriothesley, heck even the melusines, albeit unintentionally, questioned if you two were together yet.
you never expected him to reciprocate, despite your close relationship with him. but as everyone said around you, there were signs.
you reach your home. once inside, you guide neuvillette inside to a comfy armchair as he subtly looks around. he thanks you, asking if there’s anything he can do to help you before sitting after you urge him to relax.
you set a glass of water down in front of him. “imported from mondstadt! i thought you’d like it better than whatever coffee or tea i brew, so…”
he smiles softly at you. “i dearly appreciate the sentiment, it has been quite some time since i have last tasted mondstadt’s water. however, if you recall, i do also enjoy the brews you make whenever we spend time together, so please do not feel pressured to order water from across teyvat solely for me, as it can be expensive.”
you shake your head. “i know, i remember you telling me that. but please don’t worry about it, after all, i like seeing you talk about your hobby just as much as you like listening to me go on about my own interests.”
“is that so? i simply thank you, then.”
he swirls the water in the glass, watching it as one would inspect wine, taking a sip as he watches you get your coffee.
you sit down across from him as he clears his throat. “i actually have something important to discuss with you.”
you bring your drink from your lips to the table, setting it down as you subconsciously adjust your posture. “okay, go ahead.”
he sets down his glass. “for this past year, i have been feeling rather… peculiar. i have felt the odd feeling before, but never with this much intensity. i was not particularly sure why, until i discussed my feelings with wriothesley.
i told him that whenever i am around you i start feeling rather elated— my heart, overworking itself and my mind, rather unfocused on my work.
he told me that i was exhibiting signs of a ‘crush,’ as he put it. i put more thought into our conversation as the days passed by, and a couple months ago i came to a definite realization that i would freely let you have my heart if you would accept it. i am able to say, without a doubt, that i love you. i have for a long while.”
you stare at him with wide eyes, temporarily stunned by the dramatic recitation of his feelings. “neuvillette…”
you will yourself to answer before he takes your lack of a response as a rejection. “i wholeheartedly feel the same.”
you watch his pretty lashes flutter closed. “i understand why people are addicted to this feeling of love, of adoration. i may have to count myself along with them now.”
“i’m not doing that.”
you sigh. “come on… loosen up a bit!”
scaramouche crosses his arms.
“… you’re no fun.” you shrug, picking up some snow and walking away from him.
as soon as he turns to look at you, a ball of snow hits him in the face.
he wipes it off aggressively. “you little—” another one hits him on the side of his head.
he can hear your laughter from far away. he finds it sort of endearing, but…
he smirks menacingly. he gathers snow together into a ball and flies up, easily targeting and shooting it at you.
you scream as you get nailed. “that’s not fair!” you say as you laugh, “come back down if you wanna fight, you coward!”
he does come back down, albeit roughly. he slides into the snow, making it fly onto you.
“that’s cold, you jerk—!” you say, preparing to throw another snowball at his face.
“that’s deserved.” he retorts.
you back up to make some room and to get under a tree with branches.
he follows, going right under your target zone.
as he prepares to throw, you throw the snowball in your hand up above at a tree branch, its snow falling down onto your target zone…
… with no scaramouche in it as he walked forward before it fell.
“did you really think that’d work?” he says, amusement in his voice.
you shrug and sigh, “worth a shot.”
a big pile of snow then falls on him from above.
the timing of it and the unamused expression on his face as he shakes it off has you falling backwards laughing in the snow.
“ughh… i hate you.” he groans.
you calm yourself down to small laughter as he crouches down beside you.
you hum. “i’m sure you do.”
he sighs as he lies down next to you, staring at the sky.
you shut your eyes, basking in the comfortable silence.
scaramouche glances at you and feels the same twisting feeling from before when he heard your laughter.
something pure.
something real.
you feel him looking at you and you open your eyes, witnessing the soft loom in his expression that makes your breath hitch ever so slightly.
“ow! you jerk!”
you wipe the snow from your face as you watch him get up. did he just… throw a snowball at you? seriously?!
“you’ll catch a cold lying there,” and he throws his unneeded coat at you.
“this one’s cute, you’re getting better with the icing!” thoma cheerfully says.
“you think so? haha…” you grimace.
“absolutely, have some faith in yourself!”
being best friends with thoma meant that your cooking and baking skills were tested on plenty of occasions. today, you were making gingerbread cookies.
“thanks, thoma…” you say, concentrating on the next cookie.
“here, this piping bag is better for filling in…” he takes the one from your hand, your fingers brushing together as he hands you the bag.
you hum a thank you, not trusting your voice at the moment.
he’s close, leaning forward to watch you design as you’re busy trying not to mess up. however, you can feel your hands shaking a little from the proximity.
he carefully puts his hands over yours, steadying your movements as you let a little gasp out.
“are you feeling okay? your hands are a bit shaky, and you’ve been kind of quiet…” he asks, a sincere tone in his voice as he looks over at your face.
“i’m good, just a bit tired is all.” you reply, giving him a reassuring smile.
“oh! do you want me to take over, then? i can finish the rest if you’d like!” thoma worriedly says in return. “go rest if you need, i wouldn’t want you to overdo it…”
“it’s sweet of you to worry, but i promise i’ll be alright!” you go back to the gingerbread cookie as thoma (sadly) moves his hands to get you the bag of candies for some of the smaller details as you reflexively sigh in relief. you think your heart may give out any second now…
you take a look at all the frosting colors you have at your disposal.
you smile, “i’m gonna make a special one specifically for you.”
“i was just thinking about making one for you too!” thoma chuckles warmly, sliding a gingerbread man over to his side.
you look over at thoma to look at the apron that he’s wearing, piping the design onto the cookie. you also add the pants on, and then add the eyes and mouth. the tricky part is the hair, but with a few flourishes and flicks here and there, it becomes suitable enough to resemble thoma’s hair.
“finished!” you both say near the same time.
you give each other your cookies. the one you received was a lot smoother looking than the one you finished decorating and was designed to look like you.
“it’s cute!” you giggle, looking over at thoma to see his reaction.
“i love mine, look at the resemblance!” he puts his cookie next to his face. “you did amazing!”
“i had a good teacher,” you say as he hums happily, taking a bite out of his cookie’s head.
as he continues humming a song, you can’t help but stare, and in a sudden burst of confidence…
“thoma?”
“hm?”
you wipe off some frosting on the corner of his lips.
his face turns pink, cute, but realizing what you just did, you turn away and immediately start changing the subject as your heart goes into overdrive for the nth time this afternoon. “ah, i might’ve added too much frosting, so it’s probably super sweet, right?”
you glance over at thoma, whose hand is reaching for your face. he cups your cheek gently, his other hand reaching for yours as he brings you closer.
he hovers his lips over yours.
his eyes widen as he quickly backtracks. “sorry, i… you just…”
you pull him in, kissing him as he inhales sharply.
all that exists in the moment is you and him.
“nope, absolutely not. you’re not stepping a foot outside in this weather.”
“but ‘nari…”
he shakes the bitter tasting medicine he forced you to drink earlier as a warning.
“… and you’re threatening me too…” you smush your head into the pillow underneath you.
tighnari sighs and taps the back of your head. you reluctantly flip back around. he presses his hand against your forehead.
so close…
he hums to himself, going somewhere else in the room and bringing back a cup of hot tea.
“are you strong enough to drink yourself or do you need me to help?” he asks sincerely, his voice a stark contrast to the stern tone he had before.
you lift yourself to lean against the bed frame. his bed frame, to be exact. you had the unfortunate experience of falling ill on an expedition with your best friend and long time crush and it’s coming back to bite you hard…
… but you remember how worried he was as it took days to come back to the village. all those days wondering if you were getting better or worse, if his quickly whipped up medicines from the resources in the wild were helping or poisoning you. and you feel a warmth knowing that he truly, very dearly cared.
you take the cup which is surprisingly cool compared to the drink inside.
“i tried to make the blend a little sweeter…” he quietly said.
you take a little sip, a small smile appearing on your face. finally, something actually drinkable!
you sit in comfortable silence as you finish the drink before you realize something.
“… don’t you have work today?”
“i cleared my schedule,” tighnari replies. “i probably wouldn’t have done my best today anyways.”
“why’s that?”
“i’d be worried sick about you. if i weren’t here, you’d probably have run off by now.”
“that’s… probably.” you admit.
he chuckles, the sound replaying in your head.
“are you done with the tea? i’ll take it.” you hand it over to him as he sets it on a table.
he goes over and sits at the foot of the bed. “you should get some rest now. all the medicine won’t do any good if you don’t sleep, and i doubt you want to retake all of it for another week.”
you nod, lying back down in the bed and pulling the covers up. “are you going to be here when i wake up?”
“i’ll be right here. promise.” you feel his tail swish and hold onto your ankle through the blanket.
”… thank you. for worrying about me and everything.”
you see a light flush start to blossom on his face. “you’re welcome. i…”
he pauses for a second before shaking his head. “never mind,” he moves a little closer and ruffles your hair a little, “sweet dreams.”
you allow your eyes to flutter closed, breathing a little slower as you intake the incense tighnari set out.
a couple minutes later, you hear a faint whisper.
“i love you.”
“what’s this?”
xiao takes the gift being handed to him with slight hesitation.
“just… something i thought you’d like.” you reply nervously as he unties the bow on top and opens the box with care. you look around his room to occupy yourself with something other than watching him.
inside is a bracelet matching his hair with a small charm attached.
he lifts it up carefully, inspecting the craftsmanship.
“i made it myself, it’s supposed to be a protection charm! you protect liyue so diligently so…”
he’s silent for a couple seconds, making you nervous about whether he likes it or not.
he looks at you. “i’ll be back.”
and he vanishes.
that was… good? maybe?
he reappears a couple minutes later, holding a wrapped box.
“for you,” he says, handing it over. while he’s giving it, you spot the bracelet you made for him on his wrist.
“thank you!” you smile as he averts eye contact.
inside is a bracelet with clear beads that each have dandelion seeds in them, giving the accessory a soft blue glow. it’s warm to the touch, a stark contrast to the weather outside.
“it’s beautiful!” you put it on your wrist and extend your arm so that xiao can see.
he does the same, extending his arm out next to yours and showcasing both of the bracelets side by side.
“… do you know the symbolism behind dandelions and their seeds?” xiao quietly asks. he takes your hand gently, like he’s afraid it’s going to shatter in his hold.
“i remember someone saying something about it back when i took a trip to mondstadt…” you murmur, “but the memory’s a little faded now.”
“i see…it—”
he pauses.
“i apologize, someone is calling me.”
he (unfortunately) lets go of your hand.
“that’s alright, go on. stay safe, okay?” you find yourself running a finger over the beads of the bracelet he gave you.
he nods.
“i’ll come back to you.”
and he vanishes again.
hm… maybe zhongli will have an idea about the dandelions.
so you trek over to the parlor through the icy winds and snowy nightmare until you reach zhongli’s workplace, quite literally yanking the door open and rushing inside once you arrived.
“ah, good evening,” zhongli greets. “i was hoping to be able to talk to you soon.”
you tuck your clothes off and exhale a sigh of relief. “good evening, zhongli! i actually came to ask you something…”
he comes over, handing you a cup of warm tea.
“i will try to answer to the best of my abilities,” he affirms, “but may i ask… is the bracelet you are wearing from xiao?”
you nod, “it is, actually! it’s part of what i wanted to ask.”
he motions for you to continue.
“do you happen to know the symbolism behind dandelions? xiao brought it up and it seemed important, but he had to leave before finishing what he was going to say.”
zhongli smiles. “i saw him purchase that bracelet earlier in the day. i was wondering who it was for, but he seemed to be in quite the hurry.”
he shuts his eyes, as if reaching back into his mind in order to answer your question. “dandelions… they are said to represent time, freedom, and romance, if i remember correctly.”
“romance?…” you question out loud, a realization starting to form.
“i believe he was trying to confess to you,” zhongli concluded, “he does speak very fondly of you, after all…”
you feel your face begin to heat up as you manage out, “do you happen to know where he is? if he’s busy?”
a small glint in zhongli’s eyes shines while he replies with, “why, he came to me asking for some help just a few moments ago. he’s upstairs if you’d like to see him?”
it was late at night, the weather outside getting worse as you and zhongli continued drinking tea inside his workplace.
he was across from you, reading a book. you were doing the same; however, you were getting less and less focused on the words as time went on, the pages starting to blend and your head heavy with fatigue.
you find yourself yawning and bookmarking the page you ended up at. “i… should probably get going. it’s getting pretty late…”
zhongli looks up from his book. “i believe it will be difficult to find your way home safely in this weather,” he replies. “perhaps it would be better if you stayed here for tonight?”
you shake your head, getting up from your seat and giving him a smile. “i’d like to stay, but… i wouldn’t want to be a bother.”
“you wouldn’t be,” he says with complete sincerity in his voice. he returns your smile as he shuts his book. “it would be a shame to have you fall ill and unable to come visit due to the cold. come, the fire is warm. i’ll make you another cup of tea.”
you find yourself sitting on a couch in front of the fireplace, zhongli handing you a steaming cup that you take carefully.
“thank you…” you nod. there’s a brief silence before you decide to speak again, some hope spilling into your voice. “i’m… a little curious. is there… any particular reason you want me to stay besides the reasons you gave?”
he chuckles. “as intuitive as ever, i see. i suppose i would be lying if i said i do not have a reason, or if i simply stuck to my previous reasonings. it’s… quite a bit more than that.”
“oh? so what’s the reason?”
“i’ll tell you, within due time.”
you sigh, “you can’t just get all mysterious and then not tell me what you’ve got on your mind like that!”
he simply laughs softly, not adding any further discussion as you sip (and almost burn your tongue) from your tea.
“i suppose, if you truly need to head home, i shall walk with you,” he says, maintaining eye contact as his pleasant smile remains.
“it’s pretty far from here, are you sure?” you question, “i don’t want you to have to walk that distance alone when you’re done dropping me off…”
“then, you do understand my view of letting you go out alone,” he replies, “therefore i ask, if you would allow me to be selfish at this moment, for you to stay at least until the weather outside is relieved.”
“i…” crap, you fell into that one… “… if it helps ease your conscious, i’ll stay.” you relinquish, secretly excited and a little anxious inside as you watch zhongli let out a quiet sigh.
”i apologize if i have been… pushy,” he says, resting his hand over your free one. “i just worry, if something bad were to happen because of my poor judgement…”
you give him a reassuring smile. “i understand.”
he surprises you with a soft kiss to the forehead, a small gasp leaving you as he retreats back. “was that too forward of me? i apologize. i should have asked first.”
you set your cup down. leaning towards him, you kiss him on the lips. it’s soft, patient.
he breaks off momentarily and whispers, “i love you.”
“i love you too,” you say back, kissing him again as the fireplace crackles and the weather outside remains ever so rampant.
