🍓Waiting for shop to reset so I decided to rank and evaluate how some genshin men (my favorites, sorry i’m biased) deal with jealousy. Quick answer is: Not well, lol. May do the women next, if there is demand.
Venti: 4/10
Venti has very little reason to be jealous, in fact, he kind of enjoys when others come onto you. Finds it funny. Encourages it at times. Sure he is possessive, but that plays into it a bit. He lets it go for a little while, only to come in when the other party thinks they’ve really got a chance and squash them all at once. You will likely not be privy to his annoyance with the other person, because he plays it off so well. However, you can get him pissed off if you lean into the flirting just a bit. In that case, he’ll make it very known to both you and your companion just how taken you are. Best prepare for a long night, my friend :)
Varka: 1/10
Sorry if this disappoints, guy doesn’t care. Most carefree, hands off man in the world. Someone’s flirting with you? Good! You’re fantastic! Really, why wouldn’t he want to share your wonderful smile with the world. Besides, everyone knows you’re the grandmasters partner. Think of it like him showing off, he doesn’t mind it at all so long as you come home with him. Though, sometimes, you’ll hear him admit that it bothers him just a bit. He knows your loyalties, but it’s hard when he has to share your attention sometimes. Just kiss him, his tail will start wagging and he’ll forget why he was upset in the first place.
Lohen: 5/10
He’s a bit of an odd case. On one hand, he has no doubt in his mind that you could do any better than him (egotistical freak). On the other, what’s up with all the testing his boundaries, don’t these people know who you’re with? Kinda stupid if you ask him. I doubt he gets all that jealous often, just annoyed that people are taking up your time when they don’t need to be. It’s not hard for him to scare them off, of course, so he’d never have any reason to do much about it… but still… you’re not on the market. Does he need to tattoo it on your forehead? Maybe a ring would work instead…
Tartaglia/Childe: 7/10
Chalk it up to his lack of emotional maturity, he gets jealous pretty easy, and he makes it well known to you and your little friend. Walks up behind you and makes it very obvious you are an item. A duo. Two peas in a pod. You get it buddy? Go away?? Still, he’s… nice enough about it. There’s a level of decorum he has… a level. It’s best to just pull him away quickly, or else he’ll get a little mean, and we don’t need this dog (fox?) barking do we?
Zhongli: 4/10
It may surprise you to see him be anything over a 2, but I believe old man’s still got it. Of course, he’s fairly chill, and he’s not the type to worry about anything like that too much. But, he does know what a prize you are. You caught the eye of the lord of geo, that little mark on your wrist proves it, you’re special. Others most certainly will agree, so he has to be wary. When he does have to “confront” an issue… he does so, so smoothly, you and the other party hardly realize he’s moved the conversation to another topic. Gramps still got that smoothness.
Kazuha: 2/10
Are we surprised guys. Kazuha wouldn’t bat an eye to any stranger you’re talking to, only gets concerned if they seem aggressive. He’s a gentle soul, and he knows what your relationship is. You can hold your own, and you’ll say no if you need to. You’re not an object to covet, you’re a person. His person. So no need to worry about anything like that. Still… he’s a little more willing to step in than Varka if he feels someone is being too pushy. Checks on you subtly, and watches the interaction with a careful eye. Just in case.
Tighnari: 7/10
You absolutely have to hear me out on him I’m begging. He’s a fairly laid back person, I don’t think he gets jealous often and he doesn’t mind strangers being a little friendly with you or you back to them. However, why I put him so high, is when he does get jealous? He’s insufferable. Blame it on genetics or whatever, but when he gets that itch in the back of his skull, he has to scratch it. Very much a “I’m part of this conversation now and I’m going to remind you about ten times that this is my partner and they’re not interested oh did i tell you this i my partner yet?” kind of guy. Also a little more touchy than usual. It’s embarrassing as hell, but it’s just how he is. You smile and laugh it off, so it can’t be so bad in the end.
Cyno: 4/10
*Points behind me* This guy, amirite? Cyno is less jealous more naturally protective. He always eyes new people around you with caution until he’s sure they’re not a threat to your wellbeing. That being said, the flirting tends to just be dismissed as harmless in his eyes. So what if they’re interested, so was he. He made the move, they didn’t. …They better not. He’ll keep an eye on them just a little longer, to make sure… Yeah, you might have to get this guy to chill a little. He’s (mostly) harmless, but that endless glare freaks everyone around you out.
Kaveh: 10000000000/10
Hates sharing your attention so much, oh my god he’s pathetic. He doesn’t really have much to call his own, but you are his partner, therefore he gets to be a little jealous about the people who approach you. He’s not subtle, though he thinks he is. Sliding up against you, cuddling you into his side with a huffy little glare. It’s so funny, like an angry little rabbit. Don’t tease him, though, he won’t like that. (Alhaitham points it out every time he does it, and every single time it starts a “fight”)
Wriothesley: 6/10
He’s not outward with it, but he gets jealous pretty easily. As the person he is, he feels there are things he can’t provide you with. Sun, being the main one, but among other things. So, when he sees a relatively normal guy with a normal house and a normal job in the regular old city… he gets a little nervous. Of course, you’d never do that to him. But… well… he wouldn’t blame you for wanting a normal life. Just kind of watches the interacting with a patient stare, smiles at you when you’re done. He won’t mention it unless you notice, but he’s honest too. Figures it’s better you know than not. Give him a hug, won’t you…?
Neuvillette: 9/10
Doesn’t clock that he’s jealous, that bothers him more. Unnamed emotion he doesn’t understand haunting him like a goddamn ghost. He just knows he doesn’t like when the secretary touches your shoulder, or when the cafe owner speaks to you in such a soft affectionate voice. Never asserts himself either, just stands by and watches… wondering why he’s so… irritated by the sight. When he finally asks Wriothesley, it bothers him even more to know he is jealous. Jealous of what? You are already his. But, unfortunately, emotion doesn’t like his logic, so he stews in his jealousy quietly until your attention is back on him.
Ifa: 5/10
True Neutral. Does get jealous, doesn’t like to act on it. He’s got a good head on his shoulders, he’s not gonna cause a scene over a little friendliness. Again, he’s the type to sit on the side and watch with a passive expression. Waits for you to come back to him, then he’ll tell you he didn’t really like that person. If they keep you too long, he’ll make himself part of the conversation, but won’t do much else unless they’re touchy or pushy. Pretty relaxed and mature about it, all things considered.
Kinich: 1/10
I don’t think he thinks about it. I mean like, really. I don’t think he cares enough about the other person to really consider them a “threat” of any kind. He might recognize “Hey that’s a weird thing to say,” but if it doesn’t bother you it doesn’t bother him. Usually him just being there is enough to scare the other person off. His stare is intense when paired with his silence. Still, if they’re being too pushy, he’ll just bluntly ask what exactly they’re doing and why. Pretty effective for scaring the rest off.
Flins: 3/10
I think he would find “jealousy” a funny feeling, if he felt it much at all. Very much the type to stand to the side in bemusement of the offender. His eyes crinkle in this creepy way as he does, simply observing with delight as you give them nothing to work with. Of course, as anyone does, he doesn’t like seeing others flirt with you… but you can handle your own. And if you can’t? Don’t worry, Flins is more than able to spook any strangers from your side. All as long as you turn your pretty, praise filled smile his way.
Dottore: 9/10
Feels the jealousy, doesn’t like to acknowledge it. As I said before, I don’t believe he gets jealous all that often, because he genuinely believes he is the most superior partner for you… But when he does, he’s quite nasty about it. He’s never above underhanded tactics to get your other suitor away from you. He’ll play the long game, just to see how much hope he can give them before it’s squashed without a second thought. Very much will limit your “freedoms” (aka, get in your way when you have plans by distracting or other methods) just enough to feel you and the other party separate. He’s not much for sharing outside of himself and a special someone else.
imagine, all the dates you've been going on suddenly cutting you off muttering a small and terrified "sorry uhh i...had something come up" or texting you 'sorry. can't come' or straight up shrieking and sprinting away at the sight of you on the road or in a bar, leaving you with your hand in mid–wave, standing awkwardly
lately you've been feeling like you're being followed. you'd turn around and find nothing. you feel like someone's looking at you through the window of your house, even seeing a shadow forming...but its just the tree and the breeze...
another time when you're on a date, and this douchebag doesn't wanna leave you alone and starts getting all handsy so you have to pry him off and dash towards your home while he whistles from behind for you
and the next day you wake up to a ring on your doorbell and a note stuck on the pavement...
'i don't agree with that annoying guy's ways. ps took care of him'
now obviously a rational part of you was scared thinking who was this man? why does he know this? but honestly you were more relieved over the fact that that guy is not gonna disturb you
an idea strikes you that if he was the guy who's been stalking you without any action, why not put him to work? so you start leaving grocery list on the doorstep on a sticky note before leaving for work and then coming back to a bag full of even medicines you were out of on the kitchen counter
he is this close to becoming your maid. he brings you groceries, midnight snacks, meds, household supplies, sometimes even slipping some money inside the bag. but honestly you can't really complain couse you feel like you're becoming rich now that the 'mystery man' has been helping you...but it can't be that guy whom you've been seeing frequently these days right?
— dottore , NEUVILLETTE , FLINS , varka , NOYYYY , valeriy , CHILDEEEEE , LOHENNN YES , blade (both), ASHVEIL , phainon , toji , gojo , sukuna (i think he'll be the scary) lucifer , mammon (bro's broke how he do dat) , BARBATOS , JADE , FLOYD
note:: obviously pls don't go stalking people you like just talk to them and take a no like a champ. i don't condone this behaviour its satire.
chuu's note: atp i'm spoiling you guys~ but ily so it's okay, i hope u all enjoy ^^
alhaitham / zhongli / ayato / wriothesley
♡ isn't the type to leave a jar up high on purpose or screw it too tight (alhaitham definitely does leave it up high tho, just saying)
♡ but they wont not indulge in seeing you struggle a little after being so bratty to them
♡ A sick part of them wants to see it through to the end, but they are men of good moral, so they close their eyes and huff before walking over to you.
♡ pulls the old, "startled them from behind and press onto their back as you reach for the jar and cage them into the bench" move.
♡ deep eye contact before handing the jar to you
♡ You're still pinned to the counter btw, he's not letting you squirm away.
♡ enjoys, no, relishes in the way you fluster.
♡ will watch you try to open the jar with a certain light in his eyes- obviously you cant, because its tight and he's clearly left you weak and limp after that move
♡ smiles at the sight and takes the jar without a word, opening it.
♡ hands it to you and takes a step back and you can finally breath!
♡ Whispers something teasing before walking away silently.
"what would you ever do without me, hm?"
baizhu
♡ Doesn't engage in petty behaviour like that. He's too sweet, please don't ever think that.
♡ In fact, Baizhu has already made sure every single jar you need is at eye level for you, since he doesn't want you straining your arms to reach for anything!
♡ This man cares for you deeply.
♡ If he ever does try something like that (this wont ever happen but let's be hypothetical) Changsheng will already have slithered into the cupboard and tried her best to loosen it.
♡ if you're wondering why the jar is covered in snake slime, now you know.
diluc / varka
♡ might place the jar too high for you to reach but immediately regrets it when he sees you climbing a counter top to reach it.
♡ cue protective husband energy, and firm palms on your waist to plop you back down safely onto your feet.
♡ will open the jar before handing it to you (whether or not he's screwed it too tight)
♡ wont say a word and just leaves.
♡ will return in 5 minutes to help you cook because he still feels guilty.
♡ when you're out of the kitchen he'll check that every jar is at a reachable level for you, and will loosen the lids.
♡ will start to get unusually chatty and by then you're already too awed by him to even care abt the argument.
childe / kaeya
♡ loves watching you jump up and down to reach the jar.
♡ when you start climbing onto the shelf, he might as well grab a bucket of popcorn - he is genuinely so impressed !
♡ when you try your very best at opening the jar (and fail) he starts to feel a little bad, ok, very bad.
♡ strong clearing of his throat that you jolt at the sound.
♡ you getting embarrassed gives him even more pleasure
"need me to handle that, sweetheart?"
♡ and he will ask you to respond, loud and clear
♡ probably tells you to repeat yourself like 10x to feed his ego
"What was that? I couldn't hear you properly"
♡ oh he's cheesing all day longggg
♡ kissing you on the cheek afterwards and leaves you alone (for the time being. he'll be back to annoy you in another hour, trust).
kaveh / itto
♡ Definitely tightens and places the jar up high out of sheer pettiness right after the argument, without even thinking.
♡ totally forgets about it till you're cooking and he mentally already calculates that you need that specific jar.
♡ STRESSED™️
♡ tries to make up an excuse for you to go get something in another room, even when you're both literally meant to be doing the silent treatment.
♡ mental face palm for breaking it first.
♡ you're confused but you leave bc he's acting weird and you don't even wanna question him abt it (lol)
♡ makes a break for it and grabs jar, unscrews and leaves it on the counter like nothing ever happened.
♡ Will blurt out an apology randomly throughout the week (you have no idea what he's apologising about and he wont elaborate)
flins
♡ probably has enchanted every single jar to tighten on command.
♡ Will manually place them high up because he loveeees when you cant reach for things and call out for his help - this is a normal occurrence btw, even when you're not fighting.
♡ So when you are fighting, he finds it amusing when you stand there staring at the jar, silent.
♡ you both know your normal response would be to whine and call our for Flins. But you werent talking to him, so you needed to deal with it yourself.
♡ Usually he'd come up behind you, all smug but you snap at him, "I dont need your help"
♡ cue the smirk and dramatic gasp,
"You wound me" "Go ahead, darling. Let me know if you need any help"
♡ will take any opportunity to tease you and he knows exactly how to push your buttons.
♡ tries to hold back giggles when you're jumping for it. In the end, he'll just place his palms on your thighs and lift you up so you can have the glory of grabbing it with your own hands.
♡ probably has you on the counter, his palms planted firmly on your waist, and your legs either beside his waist by the end of the whole dilemma.
♡ I mean. Its flins, cmon. This is light work for him.
♡ he enjoys seeing you mad and stubborn, but he enjoys seeing you give into him, even more.
♡ Let's you scold him (he enjoys it) but he knows how to keep you quiet in the end (in the best way possible)
neuvilette / ororon / ifa / thoma
♡ The sweetest boys omg
♡ he will never get into an argument with you let's be real, and if he does, it'll always be resolved before any pettiness ensues
♡ The only instance is if there actually has been a misplaced jar that is brand new, unopened (thus, he has NOT done anything to this jar - its purely coincidental)
♡ He would probably walk up and reach for it as if it were a normal day.
"careful, love"
♡ talks to you as if all is well, and it truly is in his eyes.
♡ kisses you on the temple and helps you with your cooking
All Genshin men x gn!reader (alphabetically) / sfw / established relationship -> women version (coming soon)
Aether
He won't acknowledge the way he sinks back into your touch when your fingers thread through the golden strands of hair hanging down his back, nor the way a low rumbling sound of bliss seems to emerge from the back of his throat when you massage a particularly sensitive spot on his head. Simply the feeling of your gentle hands brushing and re-braiding his adventure-knotted hair is a reprieve from his demanding everyday life.
Albedo
Watching you sleep is something he can't seem to stop, eyes wandering to you slouched form, observing the rhythmatic way your chest rises and falls as you dream, draped across his work desk or tucked into his side. He'll smooth a gloved hand across your hair, or drape a blanket around your shoulders to prevent the sub zero temperatures of dragonspine from seeping in. There's just something so peaceful about the way you look that soothes his fabricated heart.
Alhaitham
He'll be lounging on the plush cushions of your sofa after a long day of being the academia's scribe, one arm resting lazily behind his head and the other cradling some academic text or another. You'll slide in beside him, attempting to squeeze yourself in next to his broad form on the narrow sofa and he'll grumble under his breath in feigned complaint - he never really means it - but the shift of a bicep from behind him to tucking you securely into his side tells another story.
Ayato
He often takes a brief respite from his duties to wander the estate grounds, pausing in doorways when he hears the soft tune of your humming as he passes by. You'll be doing something inconsequential he doesn't bother to note, but the sound - no matter how perfect or off key it might be, it matters little to him - just seems to lure him closer. He'll wind his arms around your waist, whispering in your ear with a tone full of both amusement and fondness alike - yet he won't yet mention how the mundanity of such a task feels like a refreshing break from the formality of his everyday life.
Baizhu
Never will he outright admit his condition has worn him down, yet when you see him and the weariness of bearing the weight of Liyue's health on his shoulders, it touches a soft, vulnerable part of his tired heart. He'll gently decline your invitation to help, his duty is something he deigned to shoulder alone - and that is to be his fate - though when you insist on sharing that burden, such a concerned expression on your face well, he just can't say no to you it seems.
Capitano
He's not accustomed to gentleness or softness, so the contrast of your slow, soothing touch against the cold hard steel of his helmet is such a foreign sensation he takes weeks to get used to it. Your soft hands trace the inky black abyss where his face would be with such tenderness it feels like he doesn't deserve this sort of adoration, yet he'll lean down into your touch, bringing one large hand up to dwarf your own, brushing his fingers against your knuckles in what he hopes is a gentle manner.
Childe
He may or may not say - depending on the outcome - that being scolded by you is something of a guilty pleasure, though guilty is probably less of the right word in his case, try obvious. He tries at least a little to school his expression into something neutral when you frown and press the antibacterial cloth a little harder into the cuts littering his skin, telling him off for being so reckless. Despite the reprimanding tone of your voice, he can see the worry flickering across your expression - ok maybe he's a little guilty now.
Cyno
He returns home late most days, well into the early hours of the morning, so the last thing he expects is to see you slumped over the arm of the sofa - clearly where you've slid down from an upright position. He'll slide strong arms under you and slide you back into bed, only joining you after shedding all his heavy gear and the weight of his duties for the night. You'll receive a mild lecture in the morning - why you shouldn't wait up for him when it poorly impacts your own sleep - but when you shyly mention you seem to struggle to sleep without the warmth of his presence next to you, he can't help but soften and let you off the hook, only to find you in the exact same position the next night.
Dahlia
He's easy to please, any time spent in your company is pleasure enough for Dahlia, yet when you drag him to the sofa with two cups of warm sugary tea waiting for you on the coffee table - insisting he regale you with every minute detail of his day (not to mention the gossip he mentioned offhandedly a few days ago) - it's both surprising and heart warming to realise you've noticed and listened to the random things he says. And for that, he'll gladly indulge your curiosity, no matter how mundane.
Diluc
Watching you tiptoe your way back into the bedroom, swathed in one of his silken shirts that practically drowns your form and balancing a cup of coffee in each hand will forever be one of Diluc's favourite sights. You don't even notice he's awake, half propped up on his elbows with that piercing crimson gaze following you as you edge closer. When you do eventually catch him staring and burst out into laughter, passing him his mug as you slip back into the sheets beside him, he'll allow himself to join in, even if a little pink in the cheeks.
Dottore
He'll openly admit that he gets a little thrill when you depend on him for anything. No matter if it's something trivial and you could most likely do it yourself or you genuinely require help from him or a segment (unless you're interrupting important research - that will earn you a look that could put you in your grave and an irritated huff indicating you should 'do something yourself for once'). Though his favourite instance is when you get sick, he can test all manner of new remedies on you to his hearts content, satisfying that mad scientist element in him, but also quietly tend to that tiny part of him that still has something loving inside.
Heizou
Oh if anything could prove more entertaining and endearing then having you perched on his lap, attempting to help solve a case he figured out twenty minutes ago. He would tell you, but the sight of your brow furrowed in concentration and the gleeful look on your face when you turn around to point out a clue you'd linked is so terribly charming to the poor detective he'll follow along for just a little while longer. He then tests how many times he can repeat this scenario before you notice that he's already solved these cases, he just enjoys seeing your face light up, even more so when his own cheeks tint pink at the sight.
Flins
He's developed the awful habit of hiding away in his lantern every time you so much as have a petty dispute - terrible sulker that he is. Every time you sigh, chastising his childish behaviour under your breath but still picking up said lantern, purple glow flooding the darkness of the corridors, and set it on the bedside table before turning to sleep - he never expects it. He eventually comes to the amusing realisation you most likely can't sleep without him near, or struggle to at the least. When you wake, you'll find a certain fae out of hiding, wound around you like a constrictor with his face buried in the crook of your neck.
Gorou
Seldom does he let anyone near his canine features, until you manage to become a small exception to that rule. Oh he'll never admit it, but the blissful sleepy expression on his face whilst you comb through the matted fur of his tail after an exhausting day sparring and patrolling betrays his true emotions. If you deign to tease him even a little, he blushes a furious red and huffs in grumbled protest, yet he still can't seem to pull away from your soothing touch.
Ifa
Oh he's weak for seeing you in his clothes. When he emerges from the bedroom to find you perched on the edge of the kitchen counter with a cup of coffee in hand and another waiting beside you, black and bitter - exactly how he has it - his discarded shirt from last night haphazardly thrown on, he swears he has momentary heart palpitations. Even more so when you throw a knowing grin his way and gesture to the cooling caffeine waiting for him.
Itto
The bigger question is what don't you do that makes him fold instantly? If he had to pick one thing in particular however, it would have to be when you indulge his childish dramatics. He'll boast about an onikabuto fight against a child from the city he won, he's aware it's not anything significant, yet when you laugh and clap encouragingly, it touches him in profound ways he can't seem to articulate.
Kaeya
He may not remember it most of the time, his memories a hazy blur of wine and charm, yet on the occasion he does recall you leaning his weight against you and dragging him home from the angel's share to heard him into bed and make him drink some water - swiping a damp cloth over his forehead in an attempt to sober him up just a little, lest he suffer another god awful hangover - he feels the sickeningly sweet feeling of what he refuses to admit is love settle at the pit of his stomach.
Kaveh
Oh he's far too flustered to admit that when he finds himself slumped against his desk, head on an array of architectural papers and pencil still in hand - waking up to instead realise he's propped up on a pillow, blanket wrapped around his shoulders and a freshly made cup of tea still emitting steam inches away - his heart does a little flip in his chest. He knows you know it's a bad habit he won't stop anytime soon, yet the little things you do show him just how much you care.
Kazuha
He's a wandering spirit, unable to stay in one place for too long, and though it pains him to leave you behind every now and then - he can't help but feel a little more in love every time he sees you at the dock, waving at him with that saccharine smile and unbridled enthusiasm. It's the knowledge that you'll always be here, waiting for him to inevitably follow his loyal heart back to you that keeps him going.
Kinich
In the rare moments Ajaw isn't trailing behind Kinich like a loud record that won't ever stop playing - much to both yours and Kinich's disdain - he can't help but allow himself the indulgence of your touch. He may not seem like a very touchy guy on the outside, which is partially true, but with Ajaw's frequent interference, physical contact is a luxury not often afforded. So he finds himself wrapping his arms around you like he'll be ripped away the next second, leaning into the warmth of your body like it's his saving grace.
Lyney
He's become so adept at maintaining the façade, the show persona, that when you see past it for the first time, he can't help but be thrown a little off guard. It's when you notice the fatigue under the performer, that he feels seen. It's an odd feeling for him but one he learns to embrace anyway, and one day he finds there's little more comforting than the warmth of your embrace when you ask after his wellbeing.
Neuvillette
Hardworking and hardly ever home should become the motto for Neuvillette's life sometimes, being chief justice of Fontaine means piles of paperwork makes their way onto his desk every time he so dares to glance away from it. It makes the bright afternoons where you slip into his office with lunch and a adoringly sweet kiss to his cheek all the more gratifying. Even spending those 30 minutes with you every few days makes the workload looming above him seem a little smaller.
Ororon
He's perfected the art of awkward fumbling and shy gaps in conversation at this point, no matter how close you get to each other he seems to never overcome this lull in interaction, though you find it endearing, he still flushes with embarrassment every time. Therefore he's come to favour the time he spends with you that takes place in comfortable silence. Whether you're helping him in the vegetable patch or simply sitting side pressed to side on the sofa together, minutes away from falling asleep - all of it soothes his anxious heart and lets him enjoy your company without the nerves of conversation.
Pantalone
For such a wealthy man, he's the farthest from profligate someone could be. Every expensive is documented and accounted for, yet somehow the jewel encrusted necklace that appears on your vanity one day seems to escape the logs. So does the subtly expensive perfume a few days later, then the flowers delivered to your workplace. When questioned, he'll deny any knowledge of such things, claiming they simply don't exist, but the way his lips curve upward when he presses a lingering kiss to your forehead is telling.
Sethos
He's a tease, a fact he won't even deny himself, especially when it comes to you. But then on occasion you'll find it amusing to return the favour, and suddenly he finds himself at a loss for what to do. He never expects you to turn the tables on him and whisper something in his ear or drag a finger down his chest in smug reciprocation, and it makes him blush and mumble something inaudible under his breath every time, much to your delight, he finds.
Thoma
Everyone on the Kamisato estate knows Thoma is arguably the best cook within a 50 mile radius, and he himself cannot deny that his skills in the kitchen are proficient. But on days housework and errands have made his muscles feel like lead and the thought of facing yet something else to tackle when he gets home makes him want to run in the opposite direction, walking through the front door to the smell of your already half finished cooking fills him with gratitude like no other. He'll smother you in kisses while you try and finish purely for taking the weight off his shoulders every now and again.
Tighnari
He's often up late, working on ranger schedules or logging another mushroom related incident as a result of yet another person that's not listened to his advice correctly - yet when he feels a pair of warm arms wind around his shoulders and your face settle into the crook of his neck - he can't help but feel an irresistible temptation to retreat back into the bed. He's been brushing off how tired he feels for at least an hour now and the way you murmur in his ear for him to give up and get some sleep has given him a fresh realisation of the weight in his bones. Maybe the work can be finished in the morning after all.
Venti
As the so called 'weakest archon', he's become used to falling into last place, and he doesn't even mind honestly - sometimes it's better to not have the pressure of being the most powerful. Yet the first time you call him 'my strong archon', he stops like a deer in headlights. He doesn't remember the last time someone referred to him like that, and so confidently too. For once the bard is genuinely flustered - having to turn away and bashfully hide his face before you can notice the impact those three words had on him. Maybe with you he can let himself feel like something other than the weakest.
Wanderer
He often finds himself awake during the night, restless and plagued by memories of the pasts he's lived. He won't admit it, but he doesn't want to burden you with the same, so he'll carefully extract himself from your embrace, pour himself a cup of the most black and bitter tea he could possibly make and head out to sit on the back step, staring up at the endless expanse of Teyvat's star smothered sky. He comes to realise merely minutes later, footsteps approach from behind. He won't turn to look - he knows it's you - but when you settle in next to him with your own cup and inevitably end up falling fast asleep against him moments later, he won't complain.
Wriothesely
Seldom does Wriothesley have the time to emerge to the surface, and that consequently results in very little shared time between the two of you. Therefore imagine his surprise when he returns to his office after seeing to a matter elsewhere in the fortress to find you perched on the edge of his cluttered desk, tea tray stocked and set beside you, with that knowing smirk dancing across your features. He's taken aback for all of a second before suddenly he's right in front of you, sweeping you up into his strong arms. A short break from his duties couldn't hurt.
Xiao
He's not used to being around people, that much is blatantly obvious after spending any amount of time in Xiao's company - he doesn't care for company much either. However after some persistence, he finds you've snuck your way into his space without him even realising, or caring at that - something about your companionship is less bothersome than most. You'll clamber your way up to the roof of wangshu inn most nights, perch yourself next to him and just... exist. He notes you don't scramble to fill the silence, you just lean against his shoulder and watch the stars with him.
Zhongli
He's lived for centuries, and every memory, every whisper of a ghost in the hallways of someone he used to know, is a burden he and he alone must bear. He's steeled himself to this reality - the price an archon must pay - yet when you, a mortal, string your hands through the golden tips of his hair, or gently trace the gold markings that line the charcoal skin of his forearms, listening intently to his stories like there's weight to each and every detail - the load on his heart feels just that little bit lighter.
A/N: This has been in my drafts for way too long why did i think this would take me like 10 mins </3
testing the limits ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅ a valentines special
genshin men in different s*x tropes || part one
ᡣ—𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅— neuvilette, dottore, zhongli
note !! MAJORITY of it was written gender neutral, except for dottore (afab!reader for his parts) , NSFW, m!receiving (zhongli), f!ngering (dottore), different plots for each character some are placed in genshin universe some are not! enjoy!
it was a simple contractual obligation. stay married for a year until you can make yourself powerful and known within noble society. meanwhile neuvilette could get all the forceful mothers and constant begging of other nobles off his trail, plus the divorce would make him undeemable in society. who would ever want a divorced man?
It was a simple marriage. straightforward goals for you both. you to place revenge on those who have deemed you wrong, all while he offers aid and assistance as a grand duke.
it was supposed to be a simple marriage, so why does he feel himself wanting more after your one and only kiss since your wedding?
it was supposed to be a contractual marriage, no love, no strings attached. so why do you see him in your dreams, embracing you in your chambers while he whispers sweet nothings in your ear until your waking up in sweat and soaked undergarments?
"forgive me for my insolence..." is what neuvilette mutters under his breath, patience wearing thin all while his hunger grows ever more. next thing you knew, the hand that once tugged him back from leaving your room is now being pulled in his direction. soft lips crashing against yours full of despair, consumed in the ardor he had impatiently held from within.
large hands encasing your waist, while his foot forces the door shut. he's consuming your very being, its feverent far from the softness and gentleness your servants squeal to you about. there's passion rather than the caution he had placed from your wedding day, it's like he was trying to remember every motion for it may fleet away once more.
"mmh- my lord-" your hands weak from sudden discourse finally pushes him away. breathless you're cut off,
"neuvilette." you look up at him in confusion. quesitoning him from what he had just told you.
"I-" his eyes furrow, face inching closer as a warning.
"n..neuvilette... I've never done this before.."
"it's alright darling, we'll go slow..."
...
"mm-! neuvilette! s'too fast!" his face is deep in your neck, nibbling against your skin placing another love bite. you've failed to count how many times his lips covered your body, failed to count how many hours have passed in the night.
it's restless, no sense of patience placed in his thrusts. the pain long gone and instead your drowning in pleasure, but the absolute pace your husband was going at was overstimulating you to the brim. he's chasing another high, you still shaking from your previous orgasm, yet you're about to feel yourself release once more.
"i''ve been dreading for this moment. hah- dreaming of you every godforsaken night- heavens... of you beneath me just like this..." he's groaning as his pace only increaes, you're clawing against his back mewling at him all while you tighten against him. it has him cursing the heavens, cursing the gods for having him wait so long to embrace you.
"you're close darling? hmm?" a kiss is placed on your cheek, urging you for one more high. his hand holding your face as he places his forehead against your own.
"you can do it.. just one more time..." he's kissing you with so much impatience, hips languidly moving against you, addicted to the very feeling you were giving him right this very moment. his thrusts fasten, signalling he was about to release one more time, you're holding him so tightly afraid he may run away.
but neuvillette was far from running away. no, he was gonna keep spending this very moment, remembering every place of your body. every blemish and curve, you were an art piece. his one and only.
and he was never planning to divorce you from the very start.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ dottore || exes and messes
it's wrong. you know how defile he is. how much he mistreats you, how many lies and facades he's put up in front of you within the duraiton of your relationship.
kept you hidden in the dark from his secrets, his chaos and his insane thirst for knowledge. you couldn't believe him nor yourself for how clueless you were to his experimentations, his mania for information.
how you turned your back to his unfufilled promises of showing up, to the fake pleasantries that he'd be there on your most important achievements at the akedemiya. it's been years since your graduation, years since you finally put your foot down. so why are you here face to face with a sudden dread to cling onto him once more..?
why is it that you feel your heart flutter at more of the lies hes whispering behind your back as his hands trace you from the waist down, sending shivers down your spine.
the doctor having caught wind of you showing up within snezhnaya, he knew he had to get a hold of you one way or another. it was deplorable, how someone so dignified as him is sprawling his hands to take back the person who he believed did him wrong. all he believed that this chase collecting data would benefit you soon enough, as it did him. it just seems you never agreed to his terms.
"you say you hate me. how much you despise me. so why are you here at the doorstep of my labratory way past midnight..? hm? care to explain yourself dearest?" his gloved hands were crossed behind his back, his unique mask placed at the nearby lab bench. those fiery red eyes bore into you for the first time in years as he leaned down at your unreadable stature.
"you don't get to call me that.." is all you could really say in response, because even now you're now questioning as to why your feet have dragged you here.
"really? yet here you are surrendering to my touch. blushing every time your eyes meet mine. you haven't changed at all y/n." now one hand held you by the chin, forcing you to look back up at him. and there you both stood there, looking deep within each others eyes... long enough that you soon both crashed into one another.
next thing you knew you were being pushed against the metal counter while his cold lips melted into yours. the sound of glass viles shattering, the sound of papers fluttering as dottore was pushing everything out of his way from hindering you both. he's lifting you with so much ease, moving in ways like he's done this with you countless of times, when this is the first time in his life he's touching you so indecently.
large, scarred hands encase your face, gloves long gone just so he could feel the very warmth you emanated. he's longed for this, he's never felt so warm in his life, the chills of snezhnayas night now disippating. it's like he cannot get enough of you, he's high off the feeling of just feeling you against his lips.
"I need you zandik..." you moan, hands sprawling to rips off his annoying lab coat and the other layers of his clothes. meanwhile one hand is now trailing down your body feeling you all over.
"hah... really now? I thought you hated me dearest?" he teases, hand now pushing aside your panties feeling the pool of slick that has formed between your legs. your body never fails to deny him and it has him swelling in pride.
he doesn't waste time in pushing in two of his fingers, curling them within you letting you fall in ecstasy. you're consumed in lust and desperation for him and he's giving it all to you on a silver platter. his motions fasten before they stop, edging you from release.
"ah.. zandik please..."
"please what darling? you need to use your words" lips nibbling onto your neck as his fingers are sinking deeper into you. it's insane. this feeling is insane. he's insane.
"more.. i need more..." clawing into his shoulders, his pace increasing by the driven desire to see you absolutely fall by his hand. the sound of your slick along with your breathless mewls for release is like music to his ears.
his thumb presses against your most sensitive part, and your eyes are widening at the sudden surge of pleasure. hes moving in ways as if hes studying your very being in the midst of your high. you're tearing up at how insanely good it feels. it shouldn't feel this good, but here you are pulling him, begging him for more.
you were loving every breath shared with him, and he had no plans of letting you leave him ever again.
𐙚⋆°｡⋆♡ zhongli || his sweet secretary
zhongli is a boss with strict professionalism. he sticks to the rules, and expresses great mannerisms no matter how difficult a potential business partner or employee might be.
an employee is acting out of line? talking back? he'll simply respond calmly all while having you write up a letter of letting go that very employee. its his "nice" way of firing someone so distasteful.
his demeanor is welcoming yet also one with unspoken boundaries that should never be crossed, at least that's what it always seemed. he's always so gentle when speaking with you, whenever he was off to a meeting—seeing you in the specially built in the office he had just for you. his ever so special secretary—he spares glances your way with a smile that had your coworkers swooning, but one you responded with respect.
but under those gentle responses to his kind gestures was one where you wished you were the one by his side every night. guiltily you've touched yourself at the thought of zhongli dominating you as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. you yearned for him to hold you, wanted him to-
"y/n? did you order the perfume sets to give to our client?" you were currently in his office, laptop on the side of his desk as you sat across from him. he had welcomed you in to eat a lunch with him while you finalized the contracts with the new partners he had recently made business with. yet instead of typing down the requirements and agreements, you were dazing off at thought of zhongli instead.
"oh! uhm yes yes... sorry sir..." you turn pink as you're brought back to reality, hastily typing away the contract. however zhongli places a hand a top yours, stopping you from typing any further.
"if you are tired and need a break, feel free to y/n. there is no need to rush, I do not want my secretary to fall ill now.." he looks at you softly, as if there was 0 desire behind those very eyes. however zhonglis versions of taking a break, turned out to be a bit more twisted.
really, he had 0 intentions to do this at first, especially within his office at this very moment. yet the way you looked so ravishing, so alluring, you were like a treasure he couldn't refuse. Just quietly munching at the sandwich he brought for you to share, full of the ingredients he remembered you liked most. he was cracking beneath his facade.
"could you come closer here y/n?" you nodded, getting up and circling around his desk until you were in front of him. there he rose up before looking deeply into you.
"sir..?"
"may I?" is all he asks and you quietly nod.
it's been an hour since then and now your on your knees beneath him, his white tie loose, pants and belt unbuckled. his length is held within your hands, lips teasing his blushed tip.
you're taking him in so well, his one hand is gripping tightly against your hair guiding your mouth along his cock. the other brushing his hair back so he could relish the view in front of him.
its curved a slight and covered in your messy, half assed efforts of sucking his sheer length. your lips are puffy, eyes welling up from his forceful efforts as he chases for a release. he's pushing your head down, letting you take all of him in.
"oh archons.. you're taking me so well..." he's groaning, your motions are getting messier and needier. the lewd sounds of you sucking him off is echoing within his office. the vibrations of your moans is throwing him into a fucking world of disarray, and it isn't long till he's releasing all over you.
you're gripping against his thighs, feeling his cock pulsate in your mouth as you finally break free from his hold. his cum and your saliva string along from your mouth, those golden eyes look down at you with absolute desire at the sight.
"come here sweetheart", he pulls you up wiping your face with a nearby napkin. you on his lap, feeling him growing hard again at the feeling of your ass against him.
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.
" they don't know about us " w/ genshin multi men x gn! reader . . . 𝝑𝝔 walking in on you changing, how will he react? || albedo, alhaitham, capitano, childe, wriothesley, diluc, neuvillette, kinich, xiao, dainsleif, wanderer x gn! reader
cw: suggestive, no specified pronouns/anatomy for reader, NO ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP!
synopsis. when he walks in on his crush changing—how does he react?
wc: 1k ; not proofread, might be ooc! + i'll make a part 2 w/ diff characters
albedo was just... lowkey stuck in awe at first. like his mouth is a little agape at first, but he's one of the only ones to catch his composure immediately.
"oh... i—i didn't realize someone was in here, apologies."
doesn't close the door quick enough for you not to notice though, his gaze just lingering through the crack of the door a little longer. more than what you could call friendly look.
alhaitham rolls his eyes, acts ignorant, and plays it off as super duper 'i dont care just hurry up' when in reality, he's covering his mouth in embarassment once he closes that door again.
"oh, better hurry up then, other people want to use this room too."
but in his mind, he'll be replaying the moment he got to glance at your bare skin for a moment (like a man in the 1800s seeing a woman's ankles).
"fuck, what are you doing to me?..."
capitano thinks it is normal to be caught off-guard and vulnerable every now and then, he doesn't lose his composure until after—he didn't mean to think about the moment over and over again... but his subconscious says otherwise.
"ah... my apologies, please continue, i will... be leaving now." he stumbles over his words a little before turning the door knob and returning outside.
he will be fighting his own mind for wandering back to that memory, even if it is out of control, he's just scolding himself like 'stop this lust at once...'
childe is of course one to tease, he ateals every chance he gets, and this is one of those opportunities! he will not shy away from showing his attraction (but will still end up getting flustered)
"ahh... name? i believe you forgot to lock the—hey don't throw that at me!"
still finds himself smirking about it by the time you come out the room, just is leaning against the wall while grinning like a madman.
"it's not my fault i got a peek... ack! okay i'm sorry!"
wriothesley is also one to tease, but not without being... well somewhat polite. it's already impolite when you walk in on your crush changing...
"whoops! my bad, just keep changing... i—yeah i'll just... take my leave."
he ends up flustering a bit at the end but come on, who wouldn't? and if ever you ask him if you look good or not he's gonna explode (with embarassment.)
he'll give you his jacket if you feel you're missing anything before leaving together.
diluc just.. didn't say anything until after. shut the door faster than anything, that was his priority before rewatching the moment where... agh where is his mind heading!!
yes, he is one to fight his own subconscious, feels guilty as fuck afterward, not even because his eyes lingered a bit when he got a glimpse, but it's the fact he remembered every little detail.
"...oh, you are... you are speaking to me... m—my apologies."
neuvillette closes the door just as fast, even if he didn't see anything, the handle almost breaks off from how hard his grip was. and as well as the harshness as he slammed it back shut—
"name are you—i'm... my apologies—"
is all you hear before a loud bang is echoing through the room, and the quick footsteps away from outside walk off in a panic.
can't look you in the eye for at least a day. he is way too embarassed to.
kinich closes the door just as silent as when he opened it, only hearing the two small clicks; one for opening, and another to close it. he'll make sure to keep watch from outside.
"...hmm? it's alright, i saw nothing."
but you can't deny the lingering gaze he gave evey now and then when you two started to walk, especially on the skin that he totally didn't see.
xiao was... well xiao. he is similar to kinich, but way less nonchalant about it. tries too hard he comes undone... like legit red in the face but claims to...
"i... i didn't see anything, i-i promise. i was just... making sure you weren't having trouble or whatever."
he rolls his eyes like they didn't just peer through the small gap he left open to 'leep an eye on you'...
can't maintain eye contact for more than a minute. congrats, you've broken him!
dainsleif didn't mean to walk inside, the door just happened to break while he tried to lean ln the door to hear if anyone was inside—yes he fell in, yes he apologized, no he wasn't crimson-cheeked. he doesn't know what you mean.
"... apologies. again. i... i hope you know i didn't mean that. my.. my blush does not speak for itself. i do not blush."
sure you don't! he totally is not when his orbs hover over your skin like a magnifying glass; letting his eyes unravel whatever he could see, knowing he already saw what he wasn't supposed to...
wanderer? oh he plays it off so well... but the thing is, he doesn't blush at first, not at all. yes he has apologized before closing the door once more; but the thing is, he doesn't realize you're right by the door while he talks to himself.
"cute... why do you have to be so.. fuckin' cute.
makes sure you leave safely, and definitely offered to zip it up for you before he went back out.
