hi~ i saw your requests are open so👉🏼👈🏼 if you’re interested in this idea maybe u could write Venti x fem reader; aka first meeting and Venti is a lil bit of a brat x perv and is OBSESSED with tits
if you’d be up to them actually having sec after i’d be delighted but anyways! thanks for hearing me out
Hi there~ quite sorry for the wait, time moves strangely in the spaces between fanfics. But the final door is open now. It's done and atlas, the constellations has realigned. The ink (figuratively) is dry. Anyways, this was a fun write, thank you for giving it a voice
The wind in Mondstadt always borne a certain kind of… vagary. It whisked across the cobblestone streets, brushed the ever aging leaves of the great oak tree in the plaza, and frisked with the hems of skirts and capes. It was a playful wind, not to mention unbearably teasing at the wrong times.. and today atlas, it seemed particularly interested in you.
You were sitting on the edge of the fountain in the plaza, a book resting open on your lap, bare thighs receiving a pleasant burn against the heated stone of the wellspring. You were bracing the sentimental regard of the sun on your skin and the almost apologetically gentle current, flowing towards you, balancing the heat waves, keeping you from boiling over. It was a peaceful day . Until it wasn't.
A shadow fell over you, blocking the path of sunlight, You glance over, squinting, to see a sillouette in green leaning over you. He was small and slender, with a messy mop of teal hair and a smile that was far too bright and just a little bit wolfish. A lyre was slung over his back.
"Hello there, fair maiden!" he chirped, his voice light and musical. "Mind if I share this sunbeam with you? The view is simply exquisite from here."
Before you could answer, he plopped down on the fountain’s edge, close enough that you could smell the faint scent of apples and cider on his breath. He was close. Really close. His eyes, a breathtaking shade of sky blue, roamed your face before deliberately, pointedly, dropping to the neckline of your top.
"What's a beautiful flower like you doing all alone in the city of freedom? Surely you're here to attend a grand performance, or perhaps a tryst with a dashing, handsome—" He paused, gesturing to himself with a flourish. "—bard?"
You closed your book, raising an eyebrow. "I was just reading."
"Reading?" He gasped, feigning a dramatic swoon. "On a day like this? The poetry of the world is meant to be lived, not read! Why, the breeze itself is composing a sonnet just for you."
He leaned in again, and you caught his gaze dropping. A small, impish smirk played on his lips. "A very profound sonnet, at that."
His name was Venti. You knew who he was, of course. You’ve heard the strum of his lyre matched the sound of the heavens, rumours spread quickly among the city, though the people of Mondstadt mostly knew him as the beloved, drunken bard. You hadn't expected him to be so… forward.
"And what sonnet is that?" you asked, playing along, a little intrigued by his audacity.
Venti hummed, tapping his chin. "It's a melody of round, soft hilltops. A perfect, alluring crest that promises comfort and warmth…" He put a hand over his heart, his expression a comical mix of reverence and mischief. "I fear I am but a humble bard, lost at sea in the gentle swells of your… bountiful presence."
You couldn't help but laugh, a little flustered. "You're terrible."
"Terribly in love, perhaps," he said, his grin turning even more mischievous. "Or, at the very least, terribly captivated." He wiggled his eyebrows. "It's a hard-knock life for a bard whose gaze is constantly drawn to such… magnificent inspiration."
He didn't even try to be subtle. He literally tilted his head to get a better look. He let out a long, dreamy sigh. "Ah, Mondstadt's true treasure. Not the dandelion wine, no. Not the thousand-year-old architecture. It's this. This perfect… piece of art."
"You're a pervert," you stated, but you were smiling.
"A devoted pervert," he corrected, pulling his lyre around. "Allow me to serenade your… unparalleled beauty." He strummed a chord. "My dearest friend, your gentle chest, grants weary souls a moment's rest…" he sang in a high, lilting voice. "From all their care and worldly strife, they long to rest there for a life!"
You swatted at him with your book, and he let out a bright, musical laugh, dodging the blow with surprising grace. "My muse is so violent! How it wounds my delicate artist's soul!"
"Your soul seems pretty robust," you retorted. "And your eyes are wandering."
"Can you blame them?" he asked, his voice dropping to a stage-whisper. "They are the bards of my heart, always seeking the most beautiful sights. A sunrise, a full moon, a… well, you get the picture."
He strummed another chord, a soft, slower melody this time, and his gaze softened for just a second. It wasn't the lecherous, playful look from before. It was almost reverent. "Truly," he said, his voice quiet, "you are a blessing to this world. A breath of fresh, sweet air in a city of constant wind."
Just as you were about to respond, he perked up again, the mischief back in full force. "Say, can I get a closer look? For artistic purposes, of course. A great artist must study his subject with the utmost intimacy."
He leaned in, his face inches from yours, his eyes wide and pleading. "Please? I promise I'll only be a little bit of a brat about it."
"Absolutely not," you laughed, pushing his forehead with one finger, keeping him at bay.
He pouted. "You're so mean to your biggest admirer! It's a travesty! A tragedy! A tale for the ages! The cruel mistress and the devoted, chest-obsessed bard!”
Despite his pouting, the wicked glint in his eyes, gives the look of someone who has already won at what they so long wished for.
Only then you realize the weight of his hands, bracing both of your shoulders.
Before you can rise and speak up, he tugs you up, with an almost suspiciously vast amount of ease. And guides you the back of the plaza, one half is hidden with a blanket of shadows the other is inches away from the broad sunset, shining over the public.
You look above the red, orange skies and surprise takes over you, how long have you been speaking for? And how long has he been staring… you grimace at the absurdity of it all.
You try opening once more, to tell him what? That this isn’t the right place to fuck? That you just met each other? But your quickly shut up by a smart mouth against your own.
“Ah- ! Venti! Are you crazy?!” You speak up in a hushed whisper, as this foolish freak of a bard, embraces you warmly, and quite shamelessly enjoying the soft pressure of your breasts squishing against his body.
“Shh, sweetheart. If anyone comes, I'll just serenade them until they wander off. They'll never even glance this way. “ he comforts you,all while peppering reverent kisses across your neck down to your cleavage, leaving marks that would either bruise or ache the morning after.
You can’t believe your letting him hold you, let alone that your letting those musically practiced hands of his slither beneath your dress and unclasp your bra with dangerously little difficulty. He’s nowhere and everywhere at once. He’s fondling with your overtly claimed breasts, and sliding his other hand across your body from your hair, lower and lower all the way down between your legs.
“Ngh~ “ you let out a little moan, though it’s muffled against his scarf, “ah, w-wait!” Heat rushes to your cheeks, he can’t know that your already so -
He feels your dampness, as he rubs the core of your cunt, a mischievously smug grin plastered on his face, as he sinks his fingers further into you.
“Aww, you're blushing and dripping. Pick a struggle, dear heart." He whispers against your ear, his hot breath trickling against your reddened skin, you can practically hear his smirk.
“If I knew a few whispers would get you this worked up, I'd have started singing hours ago”
He curls his slender fingers inside you, sending what feels like, bolts of electricity coursing through your nerves. He starts pumping them in and out of your slickness, your face only gets redder at the soaked sounds it’s making.
Venti notices and kisses your cheek fondly,
“don't blush. That just means your body trusts me more than your head does."
His sweet smile manages to convince you to comfort, and you try to ignore the way his gaze lowers to your chest as he can’t take his eyes away, giving them appreciative glances.
Venti has found himself adoring all of you, but something about the way the soft swell of your breasts, curve justtt right over your body, so plump and tender, reallyyy gets him hard.
He can’t look away, he can’t take his eyes off you, and the unfathomable beauty you carry, his expression full of longing and desperation, “ngh~ venti I’m gonna!”
Your release is a rush of white flashes, you can barely think straight, the only thought in you could recall was him licking his fingers and attempting coax another out of you.
“Mm, you taste like you're almost done. But I’m not dove, You worked so hard, and came so pretty. Now let me kiss your chest until you forget how to count. Again."
Looking back at it, It’s questionable to think that was your first impression of the anemo archon, not the mention the lust he put upon you, or the hours worth of orgasms he so fragrantly pulled out of that.
Expect to feel him days. ♡︎♡︎♡︎
