Adventures in Tyevat- Nsfw

by Long_Furby6

Summary:

!Content Warnings will be at the start of each chapter!

NOTE: Newer chapters are much longer (and lowk better quality) than the older ones, as this was started quite a while ago and my writing style has changed somewhat

Notes:

Honestly referring to reader as ‘Y/N’ makes me cringe but what else am I going to call them 😭

Using the word ‘Flabbergasted’ in a sex scene is NOT weird okay shut up

Chapter 1: Bane of Hotel Staff- Cyno

WARNINGS: Reader implied to be AMAB (but could be read as a strap), Penetration, Overstimulation, Slight Body Worship, General Manhandling, Biting

 

Cyno bit back a whine as you sunk your teeth into his exposed shoulder once more. He tried so hard to keep his composure, to keep his pride as General Mahamatra, but in that moment, all he wanted to do was cry to the heavens and back at just how good it felt to feel you, his lo… can he even call you that? his lover slowly thrusting into him, gently nipping at his skin, leaving angry red marks that would take their time to fade.

 

And, oh archons , you were picking up the pace. Your hands found their way to his trembling hips, while you lick one of the bites that started to bleed on his marked up neck.

 

This pain. Oh, this divine pain. Cyno couldn’t imagine anything more holy. He couldn’t fathom a stronger form of worship than to call your name over and over until it drowned out all other noise in that small, cheap hotel room.

 

The wall was cold against his body as he arched his back, letting out a long, drawn out moan as you hit a particularly sensitive spot. Fuck, he was close. He was so close. Not even a few minutes of this and he was already on the verge of complete and utter ruin. The things you do to him, archons forbid the sages find out what their strongest pawn was up to in his free time…

 

“Y/N… Please!”

 

You wrapped your hand around his painfully hard cock, smirking when he let out a gasp. How out of character it is to see him in this moment, scarlet eyes teary and breath ragged from the intense pleasure. How beautiful it is to see him come undone before you, unravelled before your very eyes.

 

You bit down hard on his bared throat, and that was his breaking point. He clasped a hand over his mouth as the white-hot pleasure of an orgasm washed over him, his muffled cry almost music to your ears. You stroked him through his high, kissing up his jawline and then his cheek when he threw his arms around you, panting hard as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

 

And then you started moving again.

 

He let out an undignified yelp of surprise as you spun him from his place on the wall and practically threw him onto the creaky bed, crawling on top of him and carelessly flinging his legs over your shoulders.

 

“W-wait! What are you-“

 

You pressed a finger to his lips, making a show of shushing him.

 

“I still haven’t finished yet, General.” You tilted your head with that cocky little grin on your face, staring down at his red, flabbergasted expression. “And we’re going to continue this little game until I do.”

 

He opened his mouth to protest, but all that came out was a choked sob when you not so gently pushed your entire length into him in one go. He threw his head back onto the bed, tears freely flowing down his flushed cheeks.

 

After already cumming once, his body ached and screamed every time you pounded into him. His mind was more than foggy, the only thought on it being your words playing on repeat again and again.

 

He’s going to be there for a long while, ain’t he? Make sure to apologize to the hotel staff on your way out.

Chapter 2: That Tempting Detective- Shikanoin Heizou

WARNINGS: Implied AMAB reader? Sorta?, Semi Public, Slight Exhibitionism?, Heizou being a little shit

 

“Detective- we’re going to get caught—“ You breathed out, yet made no move to stop the deft hands sliding up your chest to unbutton your shirt, taking their sweet time to fiddle with a loose string before grabbing and pulling you closer to Heizou’s smirking face.

 

“Oh wouldn’t that be just terrible ?”

 

He giggled, and you clicked your tongue in annoyance. Annoyance? Yeah, right. You were beyond aroused right now. It was kind of hard not to be, with the ever charming Shikanoin Heizou currently kissing up your neck. You knew you were always wrapped around his little finger, but you still hated playing into his little game.

 

“ Oh -“

 

He feigned surprise as you grabbed his hips. Archons, you could practically see the hearts in his eyes. It made you sick. You wanted to fuck that stupid knowing smirk off his face, dumb him down until all he could scream was your name, make the great detective feel outsmarted.

 

As if that would ever happen. The rougher you got, the more Heizou wanted.

 

You slid to the floor of the semi-covered alleyway, dragging Heizou down with you. He immediately started getting comfortable, shifting around on your lap.

 

“Stop that.”

 

“Stop what, my dear partner?” He kissed your jaw, sending a bolt of electricity through your whole body. He still hadn’t stopped moving around.

 

“You’re trying to get me riled up.” You narrow your eyes in accusation.

 

He gasped in mock offence, looking you in the eyes. “I would do no such thing! How dare you accuse me o— A - Ahn ~!”

 

A thrust from you shut him up real quick. Typical. You continued your motions, grinding against his clothed ass. You could feel his already-hard cock against your stomach, straining against the fabric of his shorts. Heizou smiled a crooked sort of grin, chin tilted up to look down at you with his one open, half lidded eye.

 

Even flushed to celestia and back and dry humping his supposed rival, he still managed to look like a cocky little shit.

 

You wrapped your arms around his waist, holding on tight as he tried to get whatever pleasure he could from this situation. One of his hands slid down to rub at his growing erection, panting and not-so-quietly moaning, as if he wanted to get caught.

 

What a night this was going to be.

Chapter 3: A little dream- Kamisato Ayaka

WARNINGS: Somnophilia (slight dub con as an extension), slight body worship, wet dreams, fingering

Sunlight poured through the open window, illuminating Ayaka’s soft features as she slept peacefully and letting in a cool breeze that made you wrap the blankets she was hogging tighter around yourself. You lay next to her in awe, staring at the way her chest rose and fell with her calm breathing.

 

How did you land someone so beautiful? How did you land someone so angelic? You couldn’t help but reach out and brush a stray hair out of her pretty face, tucking it behind her ear.

 

She let out a sigh when your hand brushed her cheek, subconsciously leaning into the touch. You exhaled deeply. She was so adorable!

 

Were you really dating the daughter of the Kamisato clan or did you dream this up somehow? If this was a fantasy after all, oh archons, you never wanted it to end.

 

Your thoughts were broken as she started to stir, a few small… noises falling from her lips. She shifted, looking almost uncomfortable. You felt a little rush of panic. Was it a nightmare? Is something wrong? Your eyes followed the movement of her arm worriedly, lifting up the blankets to get a better look and-

 

Ah. So that’s it.

 

You stared in complete disbelief as Kamisato Ayaka herself twitches her hips and bucks against her ready fingers, panties already soaked through.

 

More internally than your surprise, there was pride. If a simple touch from you was enough to elicit such a reaction from her, in her sleep no less, you must be someone pretty special…

 

Oh, you could barely hold back the smirk forming on your face.

 

You shuffled closer, snaking an arm around her waist and gently moved her hand to replace it with yours. You slowly circled your fingers around her clothed clit, leaving slow, breathy kisses down her neck and collarbone.

 

“Y-y/n?” Ayaka snapped open her eyes, looking around wildly before settling on the ministrations of your hand. Upon realizing what was happening, she let out the lowest, neediest moan you’ve ever heard from her.

 

Hmm… did this situation awaken something new in your girlfriend perhaps?

 

Ayaka gripped onto your shoulders for dear life and buried her flushed face into your shoulder, taking long, deep breaths that quickly turned staggered and ragged when you slipped into her panties and slid two fingers into her already well lubricated pussy with ease.

 

“Good morning, princess!” You giggled, eyes half lidded in lust and admiration. “You just looked so beautiful, I couldn’t help myself!”

 

She sucked in a sharp breath in response, lifting her head to look you in the eyes.

 

“This… is nice. Don’t stop…”

 

If possible, your grin grew wider, and your motions sped up just enough to make her moan.

 

“Wasn’t planning to.”

Chapter 4: Archon and Follower, Who is Who?- Zhongli

WARNINGS: Use of toys, body worship kinda?, slight monsterfucking (he has some Draconic features), porn w/t feelings, slight humiliation, praise, sub/dom dynamics, mention of past partners, penetration

 

It was a strange feeling.

 

But that’s a bit of an understatement, isn’t it?

 

To see a being so much more powerful than yourself, an ancient creature with knowledge beyond human comprehension, a god squirming underneath you like some kind of whore…

It was almost too much.

 

Zhongli has had lovers in the past, he once told you with a barely concealed smirk. He bragged that all of them had worshipped him both in bed and at his altar; each and every one of them had not the nerve to even attempt to best him. But you… the first time you grabbed him by the horns and fucked him into oblivion, it almost seemed like he never wanted to take control again.

 

He had not known before the bliss and divine pleasure that came with relinquishing the control he was so used to, giving everything he has to a feeble human, everything he could possibly give and more. So, so much more. It was like he was drunk off the feeling, intoxicated by a mortal so much weaker than he.

 

The slightest domineering touch would send a shockwave through his body, electricity running through his veins when you kissed his neck, or touched the small of his back when walking by. The way you looked at him, the way you whispered sweet nothings into his ears after fully and completely  ruining his body… it all set his divine soul ablaze .

 

He was so new to the feeling, and yet, he still came back for more. And you were happy to indulge him.

 

Even now, he could not control the obscene noises that fell from his lips as your nails scraped against his thigh, a certain toy he just knew would spell his doom in your hands.

 

You slid the vibrator up and down his cock, stopping to circle the tip agonizingly slow. He fell back onto the pillows, a deep, drawn out moan falling from his lips. Even like this, he still whispered reassurances under his ragged breath. “ Keep going, you’re doing so well …”

 

He nearly sobbed when you removed the toy. You moved it down, trailing it over his thighs teasingly, featherlight touches against his oh so sensitive skin before lining it up with his hole.

 

“How far would you like to go, Morax?”

 

Your sickeningly sweet voice saying his original name in such a situation… fuck, it did things to him.

 

“You must be already aware, that for you, I would go as far as this body will allow.”

 

He breathed a sigh of relief when you finally pushed it in, sitting up to drag you into a warm embrace and a kiss that sent shivers down your spine.

 

Zhongli’s legs shook ever so slightly as he spread them for you even further. The flexibility of an archon… oh, it was unmatched. He held you tightly, as if afraid to let go, lest you disappear to oblivion the second he loosens his iron grip. His sharp fangs graze your lip in that slow yet passionate waltz, that everlasting dance of a god and his human. Or, perhaps, a human and their god.

 

A needy whine escapes him as you press up against a particularity sensitive spot inside him. He breaks the kiss, his head leaning back onto the pillow as he squeezes his eyes shut.

 

And so it continued. The steady drags of the toy, the debaucherous whimpers and begs leaving the once-mighty dragon, the thump and curl of his tail as he desperately tried to stay still, to be good for you, to be obedient for the one he trusts above all else.

 

He slowly opened his eyes just a little, looking up at the one above him. And his breath hitched.

 

Oh, Celestia.

 

You were beautiful.

 

The slight smirk to your lips, the furrowing of your brow as you focus on him and only him , the way your shirt exposed just a sliver of your collarbone…

 

He’d been revered many times before, but not like this… to have someone see him in his most vulnerable state, to have someone handle him with such care, such compassion and understanding, for him to wail and and cry and quake and still be loved — Still respected. Still worshipped .

 

He felt exposed.

 

He felt wanted.

 

He felt hot .

 

And with one final thrust up into that sweet spot, the Lord of Geo became undone. Trembling beneath you, tears stinging his eyes without room for shame, back arching like a feline’s stretch as a thick wave of pleasure washed over his ancient body.

 

He panted, eyes half lidded and glazed over with lust.

 

To see a being, so much more powerful than yourself, drooling onto the pillows, letting out shaky moans as the aftershocks of his high still had him shaking… all by your hand.

 

He hears you laugh, and his unfocused eyes meet yours when you caress his cheek, almost lovingly… he leaned into you, desperately clinging to your warmth, barely registering the face that he just completely scratched up your shoulder blades.

 

You press a kiss to his forehead, turning off the vibrator and pulling it out of him slowly.

 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, okay?”

 

Chapter 5: An Alchemist’s Mistake- Albedo Kreideprinz

WARNINGS: use of aphrodisiacs (and slight dubcon as an extension), masturbation, getting caught in the act

 

One stupid little mishap.

 

That’s all it took to get The Chief Alchemist writhing around on his makeshift sleeping bag, desperately stroking himself for relief.

 

The biting cold of the Dragonspine air against his exposed skin did little to quell the heat that was growing inside him, building and building and consuming him whole, filling his entire being with its disgusting warmth. Who knew that a simple unfamiliar plant specimen would cause such a reaction upon contact? If Albedo still had half of his rational mind, he would have found this fascinating. But right now, all he felt was want .

 

He wanted it to end. He wanted more. He wanted to never feel anything else again. He wanted relief. He wanted you .

 

However, to his utter dismay, no amount of mewling and palming his painfully hard cock would magically make you appear on the highest peak of Dragonspine mid-winter.

 

Albedo would just have to settle on dealing with this himself.

 

“Ngh—! ah… what an… inconven— ahn~”

 

Albedo wasn’t wrong often. And he certainly didn’t make such catastrophic mistakes. Yet here he was, half conscious, mind ablaze, filled with something— someone so far away, yet somehow, right beside him all at once. If he let melted into the feeling, if he let his mind wander, he could almost feel the ghost of your fingers over his exposed throat, tracing his one imperfection. He could feel the weight of another on his shaking body, the puff of breath so agonizingly close to his ear. Teasing him. Tantalizing him. Tormenting him…

 

And for once in his long life, the chalk prince had to fight for control of himself.

 

A loud, needy whine escapes him the second he lowers his guard, and soon enough, he can no longer hold back the barrage of moans and whimpers echoing through his camp. Cries of your name, for more, for mercy fell from his lips, and the rest of his resolve crashed along side them. It felt like his hands were no longer his own as they wandered over his skin, stroking his hardened cock.

 

He felt tears prick his glazed over eyes as he gave himself over to the aphrodisiac, surrendered to the fire coursing through his veins with each sloppy, desperate thrust of his hips. After all, why fight something that felt so utterly good? And it felt even better to submit, to kneel before the aching deep within his bones, to let his toes curl and head loll to the side in defeat. Why not? It’s not as if anyone would be around to see the alchemist’s descent into decadence… right?

 

One stupid little miscalculation.

 

That’s all it took for Albedo’s half lidded eyes to snap open wide, the ever shrinking rational part of his brain screaming in panic at an all too familiar voice.

 

“…Albedo?!”

 

And his artificial heart dropped.

Chapter 6: Can’t Get Enough- Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax/WhatEverYaCallEm

Notes:

Me getting the TartagliaMasochism thought at 10pm and being driven so mad with lust I banged this out in less than 30 minutes: i think i hauve covid

Brother if I had this kind of motivation for literally anything else I would’ve been a millionaire by now

WARNINGS: Masochism (the sorta extreme kind), biting, blood, knives, erotically beating the fuck outta eachother, reader is described as unnaturally tall with a large and strong build, pinning people down

 

Ajax was not a hard man to please. Give him a fight, give him a thrill, perhaps a bruise or two. Maybe throw him into a cement wall and watch it shatter, or twist a blade further into his chest. No matter what you throw at him, there he’ll be, looking up at you with a lovesick grin while blood drips from his busted lip. And the next day, he’d be pestering you for more.

 

It was a strange relationship between the two Harbingers, but it started off innocently enough. He wanted to spar, you indulged him, kicked the shit out of him, then moved on, thinking he’d retreat somewhere to lick his wounds and leave you alone. But he never did. No, it only became more and more frequent, to the point you almost felt bad for the guy and considered dialling it down.

 

You wondered when simple sparring matches became something else. You wondered when he went from admiring your strength to admiring your body, running his hands over your sides while you choke him out. You wondered when he started looking at you like you were the moon itself. Had his eyes always sparked with excitement when you were covered in blood? Had his tone always been so low, so teasing, as if trying to goad you into doing something you’d truly regret?

 

There was never any label to this little arrangement. How could there be? What silly little term could possibly describe the type of bond forged between two blades? They were made for one purpose and one purpose alone, so how would they show any other feeling, especially one such as this, if not through gnashing teeth and bloodied knuckles?

 

You were much larger than Ajax. This became increasingly evident as you trapped him between you and the cold stone below, caging him in with your body. Perhaps the visible difference in size is what drew him to you. You’re not sure. The only thing you know is that when you utilize your massive build, he bit his lip so hard it bled. You held a knife to his throat, running it ever so gently over his Adam’s apple before using the flat side to tilt his chin up, forcing him to meet your gaze. He let out a strangled moan, then grinned, tilting his head slightly with that same infuriating glint in his eyes.

 

“Oh my, have you been training, comrade?”

 

His smug tone gives you the initiative to let the tip of the knife pierce the skin of his neck, just enough to draw blood. His breath audibly stuttered, his jaw hanging open to pant for air. You held the knife there for a moment, a low hiss to your words. “Are you ever going to find someone else to bother with your childish antics?” Your free hand takes his wrists, pinning them above his head with ease, making him groan.

 

“You better… not been sparring with any other harbingers, yeah?” He chuckled, sentences coming out a little breathlessly. He strains against the grip you have on his wrists, flexing his hands to no avail. “I’ll feel a little left out if you do.”

 

You ignore his teasing words, instead focusing on the way that little drop of blood slowly trickles down his neck, running over the grooves of his skin like a river at sunrise. It runs over his collarbone, almost hitting his shirt before you move lick a long stripe up the path that droplet followed, taking your time until you reach the spot you hold your knife. You look at his face again, licking your lips as the metallic tang of his blood fills your senses.

 

Ajax, for what feels like the first time ever, is completely silent. He looks up at you with glazed over, hazy eyes, as if he was on a completely separate plane of existence. A small sound escapes him, somewhere between the whimpering of an injured dog and the distressed chirping of a songbird. You moved the knife over his shoulder, then held it to his ribs, tapping it against him warningly while you whispered into the skin of his neck.

 

“Is this all that gets you to shut up?”

 

You kiss the small puncture the knife left behind, then his cheek, then the tip of his nose, kissing anywhere you could possibly reach. “I should do this more often.”

 

“ Fuck .” Ajax sucked in a breath, bewildered yet not opposed to the new treatment.

 

“Are you tryin’ to make me lower my guard, comrade?” He laughed, but it came out sounding so nervous and shaky. “I’m not letting you win so easily this time.”

 

“We’ll see about that…” You move the knife down, ghosting the tip over his belly button, his lower abdomen where his stupid outfit split to reveal skin. You circled it over that spot before moving down to his thigh. He squirmed, nearly nicking himself on the blade several times before you let go of his wrists to hold down his chest to prevent him from writhing so much. He grabbed your wrist the second his hands were free, but didn’t attempt to get you off. He just held them there, a white knuckled grip on your arm as if you were his last lifeline, like a drowning man clutching onto his saviour.

 

“Relax.” You command, knowing the flushed man beneath you would do anything but. He held that same stupid grin on his face, the one the made you want to slap him raw, but you knew that would only rile him up more.

 

“Give me a battle worth my time, and I might consider listening to you.” He smirked, his half lidded, cloudy eyes looking up at you so sweetly you almost forgot what you came here for. You used the knife to slice open the fabric of his pants which covered his growing arousal, making him gasp.

 

“If it gets you to stop whining like some neglected mutt whenever I have work to do, I’ll gladly end this battle right here and now…”

 

With a bite to his neck, the line was crossed. Whatever the relationship was before, it was something different now. And both of you knew it.

Chapter 7: The Dragon’s Sovereign— Neuvillette

Notes:

Oh this one turned out LONG compared to the others. I didn’t even mean for it to be like that but I guess Neuvillette just makes me go a tad feral

WARNINGS: AFAB Reader (for once lmaoo), Monsterfucking, Oral (fem receiving), Body Worship, Multiple Dicks, Handjobs, Biting, Some Blood, Scratching, Talk about getting caught but it doesn’t happen so slight exhibitionism I guess, Thigh Riding, Possessiveness/Devotion 

 

Monsieur Neuvillette was often seen as an upstanding gentleman. And he is, for the most part, the polite and proper Iudex that he needs to be. Perhaps it is what drew you to him in the first place, that intimidating face contrasting that calm and collected demeanour, with a kind smile to top it all off. Yes, the dragon sovereign of hydro was truly perfect; in every sense of the word.

 

But the thing about those of great power is that you will never meet one that is without vices. And Neuvillette, bless his inhuman heart, is no exception. Although, you suppose, for all sins such a terrifying force could indulge in, Neuvillette’s certainly aren’t the worst you could think of. In fact, in a way, they made him more perfect.

 

You see, Dragons are materialistic creatures, no matter what form they take. Whether it be jewels, gold, hell, even books, it is in a great serpent’s nature to hoard, to lay claim. And what to do with the precious treasure they’ve amassed? Admire it; hold it close and pressed up against their chest; run their claws so gently along its thighs and let it know that it is worshipped; that it is desired. Some dragons take gold as their treasure. Neuvillette takes a human.

 

Honestly, he’s put you on such a pedestal it’s hard not to feel sorry for him sometimes. Those sharp and intimidating eyes are no better than a mere puppy’s when they look up at you, a cheek pressed up against your thigh as a centuries-old being kneels between your legs. You are perched upon his desk like a king upon a throne, like a crown upon a tower of gold; and your boot presses up against his growing arousal, making him take in a sharp breath.

 

You can’t get used to this. But perhaps, you don’t have to. After all, he’ll always be there to help you settle into this new routine. And after a few evenings spent with one another under the waning moon of Fontaine, you know exactly what makes him tick. He’s patient, he’s obedient, and he groans low in his throat when you run your fingers through his silky hair. His claws will dig into your flesh when you tug gently on the roots. When you tell him how good he’s making you feel, his slitted pupils blow wide like a stalking cat’s. You rub your boot on his hardening cock through the fabric of his dress pants, eliciting a low moan from those pretty lips.

 

Neuvillette sighs, closing his eyes as he kisses your thigh. The dim lantern-light glints off his scales, rough against your skin. In this form, he is much more animalistic, in a way. He nuzzles against you, fangs grazing your skin as he inches up, moving closer and closer to where you knew he wanted to worship you most. He looks up at you for approval with desperate eyes.

 

“Go on.” You smile, reassuringly scratching his scalp, rubbing the base of one of his horns. “Don’t hold yourself back.”

 

Neuvillette groans, shivering slightly. “My dear… if someone walks in, we…” You cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips. He immediately shuts up as you brush your hand down, using your thumb to pull down his bottom lip ever so slightly, just enough to expose his sharp teeth.

 

“Then you sentence them life for breaking and entering.”

 

“My dear…” He sighs, looking up at you with a slightly exhausted look now, but he can’t help the bit of amusement in his voice. “That is not how the law works.”

 

You laugh. “Well, then I’ll just let them watch. This is a damn good show we’re putting on, after all—“

 

At this, the fond smile on his face falls into a sharp glare, his long tail wrapping around your leg almost possessively. His gentle kiss turned into a warning bite to your inner thigh.

 

“Hey—! Ow, what was that for…” The sudden feeling makes you yank on his hair, hard. It makes him growl, pulling away from the bite mark he left behind in your flesh. He looks up at you, hazy eyed, and seems to come back to his senses just a little, his voice breaking as his body trembles slightly upon realizing what he had done.

 

“… ah … ah, my apologies…” He traced the bite mark, a slight look of panic on his face. “It was my mistake. But please, do not speak of wanting another to see you like this when I’m aroun— Ever . Do not say those things Ever .”

 

You pause for a moment. The bite still stung slightly, but the sight of the Chief Justice getting so worked up over some simple teasing…

 

You burst out laughing. Neuvillette looked up at you in embarrassment, tail tightening around your leg slightly. “Oh, who knew you of all people could get so jealous!”

 

“I am not—“ He begins, but cuts himself off. “…I am.” He sighs, kissing the mark he left on your thigh. It had begun to bleed. “Forgive me…” His voice is breathy, just barely above a whisper. His tongue darts out to lick the trail of blood dripping down your thigh, and. Oh. Oh .

 

His tongue is not human.

 

The long, forked, serpent’s tongue is unnaturally cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. He then licks the excess blood off his lips, tilting his head at your reaction.

 

You glanced at the office doors behind you, then grabbed his horns and pulled him closer to where you wanted him most. He let out a lewd sound of surprise, eyes wide and clouded over. You smile down at his kneeling form, teasingly switching up your approach as you let go of his horns and gently run your fingers through his hair.

 

“I’m getting impatient.”

 

“You—“

 

“You’re not going to disappoint me, are you?”

 

That shuts him up. Then, he laughs, shaking his head in amusement. His tail uncoils from your leg, instead thumping the floor beside him rhythmically, perhaps as a way to calm himself while he leans in, breath fanning over your exposed heat. “Ah, you are insatiable…”

 

“Must I repeat myself?”

 

“No, no.” He smiles, a drunk expression on his face. His hands come up, holding onto your thighs and spreading them a little further apart. “I wouldn’t dream of making you wait…” He presses his lips to your skin in an oddly innocent way, but follows it up with an experimental flick of his tongue over your folds.

 

You grin, your boot finding its way back to his cock, teasing it through the already-soaked fabric of his pants once more. He groans, nails digging into your skin. With this, you begin a rhythm; one almost as natural as breathing. The slow drags of his tongue, the hand petting his hair so sweetly, the heel of a boot rubbing circles into his bulge, setting his very veins ablaze with need. Ah, who knew such a polite and quiet man could be so vocal? His eyes closed in ecstasy as his freezing cold tongue ran over your clit, whimpers and unbecoming moans sending ripples through your skin as he began to suck on it.

 

”ah, you’re so good…”

 

You gripped his hair, tugging a little at the roots and guiding him to your most sensitive places. He follows obediently. In this state, you think he might drop himself off the highest peak in Fontaine without hesitation if you merely asked. It’s as if he was acting upon instinct alone; that overwhelming draconic urge to please his greatest treasure, to come undone at their fingertips and worship the taste of them. He slows down his movements when you let out a shaky breath, gently lapping at you and looking up at you with pleading, desperate eyes.

 

Sighing, you lean back a little, gesturing for him to rise. “C’mon. Stand.” He instantly obeys, licking the fluids off his lips and placing his hands on his desk on either side of you, leaning in. You wrap an arm around him and place your free hand on his belt, pulling him in by the buckle and pressing your lips to his. You feel him shudder, all but whining into the kiss. His forked tongue presses against your bottom lip, running along it as his hands come up to trace your spine, running along your sides as if trying to map every inch of your body. Somewhere along the line, his button-up shirt slips off, and so do his well-tailored trousers. He follows your lead, but you can feel him shaking with barely contained desire, as if holding back a tidal wave of emotion. He reigned himself in all for you. His nails dig slightly into your skin when you deepen the kiss, but not enough to break it.

 

Dragons, especially those that dwell in water, don’t exactly need to come up for air. However, you are not afforded the same luxury. He chased your lips when you pull away, his eyes snapping open with hazy confusion and disappointment. Seeing you panting, he realizes what’s going on, shaking his head as if to restart it.

 

Your hands wandered his skin, over the imprints of cold scales upon his arms and waist down to the slight dip and curve of his hips. He smiles, bumping his head up against yours and then nuzzling into you like an affectionate cat. You feel him tense slightly when you go even lower, your fingers running along his cocks.

 

That’s right— Cocks. He had two. Tapering off dark blue at the ends like a shore reaching an ocean, inhuman bumps and ridges running up the impressive length. You trace a fingertip up the length of the lower one, and he instinctively bucks into your touch, biting his lip so hard it bled. He meets your gaze, a certain desperation in his eyes as his claws dig into the wood surface of the desk.

 

“I…” He looks away, covering his mouth with his hand in an uncharacteristically bashful way. “May I ask…”

 

You sigh, immediately knowing what he was about to say and hopping off the desk to sit on the fancy chair, patting your thigh invitingly. He immediately took you up on it, crawling onto your lap. His tail moved to wrap around your leg once more as he buried his face in your neck, taking a deep breath in as if savouring your scent.

 

“You want to cum, don’t you?”

 

You feel him tense, then nod slowly against your neck. You smile, tracing a hand down his spine tantalizingly slow.

 

“Then get yourself off on my thigh.”

 

A stuttering breath leaves him, his hips involuntarily bucking, desperately searching for release. His aching cocks pressed against your thigh, a head of precum dribbling down from the tips to run along your skin. You watch for a moment as he slowly moves back and forth, trembling as if unsure of his actions. You hum in approval, then take his hips, gently guiding them to a steady pace against your leg. Neuvillette let out a downright animalistic sound; leaning in to run his tongue over your shoulder, then biting down on it, just enough for you to feel his fangs poking into you but not enough to hurt you too much. The groan you let out seems to embolden him, and he smirks against your skin, moving to straddle you properly and slide his cocks against your abdomen, licking and sucking at your neck as he does so.

 

In response, you slap his ass, and he lets out a loud gasp in surprise. You grab his chin, pulling him in and forcing him to look into your eyes.

 

“Control yourself.”

 

He looks at you for a second, eyes glazed over. Then, the smiles again, almost mischievously. A rare sight on the typically polite and proper judge.

 

“And if I cannot?”

 

He leans in closer, whispering into your lips.

 

“Will you tame me? Take me? Love me properly ?”

 

Ah, fuck it.

 

You grab his hips, slamming him down onto the desk. A loud, surprised moan escapes his lips before they are roughly taken by yours. You settle between his legs, taking his pair of throbbing cocks into your hand.

 

It takes a special type of person to tame a dragon, to hold the full attention of a sovereign. But you hold even more than that; his infatuation, his trust, his narrow hips. His spine arches deliciously when you tease the tip of one of his cocks, overstimulating one whilst neglecting the other. Lewd moans and low, animalistic growls fill the room, along with the slick sounds of your palm sliding up and down his length. It is not a fiery passion; but a quiet one, a slow and steady rhythm like the gentle yet firm push and pull of ocean waves. Exactly what Neuvillette liked. Exactly what Neuvillette craved .

 

You spread his legs a little further apart, kissing down his chest while you continue your motions on his cocks. Soon enough, his body is ever so slightly trembling, his fangs biting and snapping at anything they could reach and claws digging into your flesh as he fell back on his draconic instincts, letting everything go for you.

 

Neither of you say anything. You don’t need to. He shudders, breath stuttering into your lips as he releases, both pent-up, overworked cocks releasing at once, coating his chest and stomach all the way down to his thighs in thick cum. You pull back a bit to let him recover, but he just grabs you an pulls you back in again, not even processing your strangled gasp in his delirious state of pleasure as he kisses you again.

 

When he finally lets you pull away for air, you press your forehead to his and let your eyes flutter shut. He places a hand on the back of your head, holding you close and breathing a little raggedly.

 

“Thank you… for this.” He breathes out, gently caressing the skin of your waist with his other hand.

 

You chuckle, nuzzling the tip of your nose with his.

 

“I love you.”

 

“Thank you…”

 

“Thank you?” You scoff in amusement. He flushes at your breathy laugh.

 

“I mean… I truly do feel grateful.”

 

You quirk up an eyebrow. “And you love me?”

 

He laughs, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth, a beaming grin on his face.

 

“Yes, darling. And I love you…”

 

You hum in agreement, pulling him in for another, slightly longer and proper kiss.

 

“Good… Now let’s get you cleaned up.”

Chapter 8: Candlewick Lovers— Diluc Ragnvindr

Notes:

Spent like 10 minutes looking up safe types of candles only to realize that he’s a Pyro character and I could just bullshit and say he has a resistance to heat 😭😭 I’m not the brightest

This is probably the longest entry yet. Didn’t even mean for it to be like that it just kinda happened- oops. Anyways, be prepared for some much longer buildup :]

WARNINGS:  AMAB reader, Bondage, Wax Play, Candle Play, Masochism, Praise, Nipple Play, Anal with no Prep, Temperature Play, Mention of past scars, Pre-established relationship but first time with each other, Porn with Feelings, Riding, Frotting, Slight Body Worship, Kinda long buildup, Ruining perfectly good bedsheets with the improper use of candles

Diluc Ragnvindr is such a gentleman. That’s the word you’d hear gossiped around Mondstadt’s streets, anyway. And you, his beloved, would agree. Every time you slid up to the bar of Angel’s Share you’d immediately be greeted with a drink. Your favourite, on the house. And while the first few times he’d grumble and call you a freeloader, he’d do it without you asking. And now, he does it with the sort of fond smile that is rare on a face such as his. Long before you were together, it is him who would walk you home if you were to get drunk, it is him who would stand guard over your drink when you walked away, it is him who gazed at you from across the room, cleaning the same spot on a pristine glass over and over as he dreams.

 

And now, it is him who lifts your hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss to the back of it as you walk through the door to his manor. He closes his eyes, letting his lips linger a second too long upon your skin before letting out a breath, releasing your hand.

 

“You came.” His voice, despite calm, shakes a little. Excitement, surprise, anticipation… you’re not sure. But the shimmer in his warm eyes tells you he’s at least enjoying your company.

 

“Did you expect me not to?”

 

He hums unsurely, crossing his arms. “No, I suppose not.” Diluc’s gaze seem to flit around your face, as if he’s drinking in your every feature. You see his gloved hand twitch ever so slightly. “I was simply concerned that this thunderstorm would… be unsafe, for you to travel here through.”

 

You half-scoff, half-laugh as you kick off your boots, placing them neatly at the doorway. “Stormterror himself could be attacking the city again and I’d still find my way to you.”

 

Diluc simply sighs and shakes his head, but the amused smile and slight flush on his face is obvious.

 

You smile, shrugging off your heavy raincoat. Before you could even say anything, he’s taking it from you and hanging it up. Of course. You almost roll your eyes, but manage to control yourself as you step past him, further into the manor. He quickly catches up, following along almost like a dog. To the untrained eye, nothing was off. But you knew. You saw his eagerness, the slight bounce in his step. The man’s excited.

 

It’s almost cute, how he adjusts his cuffs over and over, how his eyes shift from side to side. You’d think months of being together and years of knowing each other would make him relaxed around you, but if anything, he’s more tense, wound up like a tight spring ready to snap. Every kiss you share he treats with reverence, as if the moment itself was holy. For him, everything must be perfect with you. Everything must go right.

 

“Are you sure you’re not cold?” He eyes you down as you both step into the parlour. Indeed, your raincoat did little to stop the chill from reaching your bones. But Diluc’s parlour is warm, and the tea that was already waiting for you when you sat down was ever warmer. Diluc sat opposite to you, sitting rigidly. His neutral expression did little to hide the finicky, worried glances he cast around your body.

 

You chuckle, raising the teacup to your lips. “Ah, I’m quite alright. Though, I wouldn’t mind it if you warmed me up anyway.”

 

Diluc cleared his throat to hide the flush on his cheeks, adjusting his collar. A rush of satisfaction runs through you, seeing how the simplest flirtation got under his skin in he most delicious way.

 

“If you need me to warm you, all you need to do is say the word.” Diluc’s voice shakes ever so slightly, but he remains the ever-smooth and kind gentleman he always has been.

 

You wanted nothing more than to see that shattered .

 

The rest of the afternoon went completely normally. The tea was lovely, the company lovelier. Though Diluc was as quiet as always, simply listening to you talk about your day or anything you’d like with a soft smile on his face.

 

Thunder still boomed outside the cozy manor as you stand, fixing your collar. “Well then, It’s getting dark. I suppose I should head back soon?”

 

Diluc just looked at you silently for a moment, lips pursed and brow slightly furrowed as if debating whether or not he should say something. His hands obsessively fidgeted with his cuffs when he finally speaks, his voice a little lower than normal.

 

“Actually… I think you should stay.”

 

“Oh?” You blinked in surprise, stopping all movement.

 

Diluc cleared his throat, standing up and stepping closer to you. “It’s pouring outside. I can’t have you walking home in this rain.” He places a hand on your shoulder, letting it slowly trail down your arm. “You’ll get cold.”

 

You met his gaze, surprised at his sudden insistence but certainly not bothered by it.

 

“Ah, alright then. Should I stay the night in one of the guest bedrooms, or…?”

 

“No.” He said a little too quickly, pulling his hand away from your arm to place it on the door handle, pushing it open.

 

“My room will suffice.”

 

---

 

They say the scent of burning candles can calm one’s nerves.

 

When you stepped into Diluc’s room and saw many of them around the bed, illuminating the dim space, they had the exact opposite effect.

 

The soft pitter-patter of rain outside and crackling of the flame seemed to roar in your ears as Diluc slipped off his overcoat, then moved to unbutton the vest underneath. You stood there, dumbfounded, for a little longer than you’d have liked.

 

“…Is everything alright?” Diluc’s voice was steady, but betrayed a hint of uncertainty, as if he was nervous, anticipating your reaction with sweaty palms and a racing heart.

 

“Alright?” You nearly laugh out loud in disbelief, but instead just glance around the room again. He set this up? Did he have a maid do it? What the hell was he trying to insinuate here exactly? Your thoughts were a mess,but you managed to let out a surprised chuckle. “It’s more than alright! Diluc, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to seduce me.”

 

To your surprise, he doesn’t rebuff you or call you a fondly mean nickname. He simply looks at you, like a man would look at all the riches in the world. Want. Pure, unfiltered desire that shows itself on his typically so stoic face. The slight flush, the way his lips part but then close once more… he steps closer to you, his voice lowered ever so slightly.

 

“Would that really be so bad?”

 

You nearly choked. Diluc, who’s hands shook upon simply touching yours? Diluc, who fell apart at every kiss, at every venturing touch or lingering glance. Diluc, who settled for stolen moments past the bar’s closing time or in Mondstadt streets, Your lover, who suddenly asked for your love instead of waiting patiently?

 

You almost pounced on him right there.

 

“No… I suppose it wouldn’t be all that bad…” you step closer to him, making sure to keep your movements slow. You saw his hand clenching into the fabric of his shirt, before his crossed arms unfold to take you into them, his hand raises yours up, fingers intertwining with yours as he lets out a sigh of deep relief.

 

“Good… good…” he whispered as you get closer, lips brushing against his. You linger there for a moment, enjoying the building anticipation and electricity between you before finally committing, kissing him softly. His lips immediately part, giving you full access too himself as you begin to back him up, until he’s pushed onto the lavish bed with you overtop him.

 

Diluc’s body is hot. Not hot as in attractive, though you’d certainly say he’s that as well, but unbearably, tantalizingly warm . His skin burns against yours, sending something akin to fire through your veins with every gentle touch. Though if he were truly blaze, then you would like to be the wood, consumed by his overwhelming heat and melting into his addictive body.

 

Hands wandered, caressing and grabbing and mapping out every inch of each other as you deepen the kiss, keeping a slow yet firm pace. You pull apart to catch your breath, but keep close, lips just barely touching.

 

Diluc opened his hazy, love-drunk eyes slowly, looking up at you with a strange sense of desperation you’ve never seen on his face before.

 

“…are you sure you want this?” His voice is slightly ragged, still out of breath as his hand trails up your spine. “…with me?”

 

You simply laugh, pressing a kiss to his temple. “With who else?”

 

He just rolls his eyes, a fond smile on his face. “No one else, hopefully…” you kiss his cheek now, then his jaw, venturing a little bit down his neck before moving back up again. He sucks in a breath, fingers curling into the back of your shirt. You let out a low hum, pressing one last, short kiss to his lips before sitting up, admiring the view of him beneath you.

 

Soon enough, you’re unbuttoning his shirt. He watches, eyes hungrily following every agonizingly slow movement. He goes to help you, but you gently push his hand away, shaking your head.

 

“I’ll do it.”

 

He looks surprised, then grumbles something under his breath you can’t quite hear. Still, he complies, letting his head fall back and his eyes flutter shut as you reach the final button, exposing his torso for your viewing pleasure. Years of training had toned up his body well, and also left their fair share of scars, criss crossing along his abdomen deliciously. You trace your fingertip along one of them, following the grooves and ridges of his body.

 

You wolf-whistle, and he flushes, shooting you a warning look. He opens his mouth to say something, but your hand ghosts over one of his nipples, and he immediately closes it again, biting down on his lip hard to stifle the groan about to escape him. His hands fly up to your hips, gripping them tightly.

 

“Oh, are you sensitive here?” You raise your brows, surprised at the strong reacting to such a simple touch. You circle the nipple with a fingertip, watching the way his skin prickles with goosebumps. He lets out a shaky breath, tilting his head away so he doesn’t have to face you.

 

“You’re teasing me.” He huffed, gripping your hips a little tighter.

 

“And is that such a bad thing?” You parrot his words from earlier, and he scowls, looking back up at you with a slight glare. You laugh and apologize, leaning down to kiss his cheek. His nails dig into your skin slightly…you bet he’s doing it involuntarily, but it still hurts a little. If only his hands were restrained…

 

An idea suddenly pops into your mind.

 

“Diluc…” you speak slowly, carefully. You make direct eye contact with him, making sure his full attention is on you. “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like it, just tell me to stop, okay?”

 

An odd expression crosses his face, somewhere between nervousness, confusion, and curiosity. “What are you planning…?” His voice is low, apprehensive. You place a hand on his chest for a moment, feeling his heart pound against his rib cage ruthlessly. You feel a twinge of nervousness yourself as you gently take his hands off your hips, moving to pin them overtop his head.

 

“Just trust me.”

 

He hesitates, but slowly nods. Firelight illuminates his soft features, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. God, he was beautiful. You couldn’t imagine how pretty he’ll be once you do what you’re going to do. You take your time unbuckling your belt, sliding it off of you and moving up to place the leather around his ready wrists. His eyes widen as he realizes what you’re doing, but he doesn’t protest, simply tensing his muscles and holding his breath in anticipation. It takes a moment, but you manage to tie the belt in a way that secures his wrists in place, forcing him to keep his wandering hands to himself. You sit back again to admire your work, and archons, you did good. So goddamn good.

 

Diluc Ragnvindr was a gentleman. But in this moment, he looked positively lecherous. Hands tied above his head, unbuttoned shirt hanging loosely off his body, chest heaving up and down… you swallowed thickly, not being able to help how hot you felt.

 

Diluc tugged against the belt, testing his new restraints. His wrists rubbed together, snugly bound. He sighed, shifting a little underneath you. “Happy now?”

 

“Very.” You breathe out, not being able to hide the awe in your voice. You prod the restraints, testing them for slack. “Is this… are you okay? You don’t mind this?”

 

“I’m fine.” He says a little too quickly, voice hoarse. “There’s nothing you can do to me that I cannot handle.”

 

You quirk up a brow. “Nothing?”

 

“…don’t take that as a challenge.”

 

You laugh, then begin to drag your hands over his chest, down to his v-line then right back up again. “Don’t worry, don’t worry. I’ll be nice to you.”

 

Before he could shoot back a retort, you take one of his nipples between your fingers and pinch , making him let out a surprised gasp. His back arches beautifully off the sheets, hands straining against the belt. You smirk, leaning down to lick and suck one side of his chest while using your fingers to play with the other.

 

He nearly short-circuits, body squirming and legs pressing together as you attack the most sensitive parts of him so ruthlessly. He speaks between ragged breaths, his body growing ever hotter against yours.

 

“Slow down— ah, too much… wait—“ he groans out, eyes shutting tight. Your release his nipple from your lips for a moment to admire his scrunched up, overwhelmed face.

 

“Need me to tone it down, darling?” You slowly roll his nipple between your fingers, watching as his bucked involuntarily.

 

“No! Just, let me breathe, I—“ he cuts himself off with a moan, and you decide to have mercy, taking your hands off him. He takes a few long, shaky breaths, body regaining its bearings. You let him cool down for a moment, before dragging your nails down his side gently.

 

“Are you alright?”

 

He sighs, a deep flush to his cheeks. He nods slowly, meeting your gaze with a slightly intense look. “Continue.”

 

You waste no time, unbuckling his belt and tossing it haphazardly into the room, sliding his pants down to expose the undergarments underneath. His breath hitches in anticipation as your fingers ghost over the hem, his eyes closing. You slip a hand partially underneath, then move your touch away again.

 

The look of surprise and confusion on Diluc’s face is delicious. He flares at you like you just committed a crime, shifting uncomfortably and pressing his legs together. “What do you think you’re doing?” He huffs, hands flexing in his restraints. You simply grin down at him, his exposed body, his flushed cheeks and tousled hair… the candelight framed his every angle deliciously, he always looked so good in red…

 

Looking at the crimson-coloured candles, you suddenly got an idea.

 

Vision holders are a strange sort of human. Not only do they conduct their element, they also possess a remarkable resistibility to it. You picked up one of the candles, holding it up and watching as the flame flickered. Hot wax dripped slowly from the wick. You were sure if you touched it, it’d burn you. Badly. But to him…

 

Diluc watched your ever move in confusion, eyes shifting from the candle, to your thoughtful face, then back again. After a moment, his voice comes out in a low whisper, the kind of tone he gives you when he knows you’re about to do something insane. “What are you…”

 

…

 

!!

 

He cuts himself off with a strangled gasp as a drop of wax drips from the candle and onto his lower abdomen, sizzling a little on his skin. His body jolts, hands clenching into fists and head falling back.

 

You hastily put the candle to the side, taking his face in your hands in panicked motions, voice desperate. “Ah, shit! I didn’t mean to— Well, I meant to ask first— Diluc, are you okay?! Are you—“

 

His lips crash into yours. You let out a muffled sound of surprise, then melt into his touch. It’s short lived, but still he pulls back panting, an expression on his face you’d never seen before. Glazed over, almost in trance. His chest heaves for a moment, and then he seems to snap out of it, turning his head and whispering.

 

“I’m… fine. I’m quite alright.” He breathes out, voice barely audible with the rain outside and the crackling fire in. “I told you I can handle anything.”

 

“Anything, huh…? Diluc, you can’t just—“

 

“No, that’s not it.” He raises his voice a little as you misunderstand him. Then, he sighs, voice going a little meek. Is he… embarrassed? “…I wouldn’t mind you doing that again.”

 

It takes you a second to process what he said. He… he liked it? Your strong, heroic, gentlemanly lover is secretly a masochist?!

 

You look down to where the wax dripped, just above the waist and of his undergarments. The crimson wax spreads out on his skin, blooming out like a rose, sizzling upon the surface. You hesitantly pressing a fingertip over it, pressing down. He shudders, breath caught in his throat. And that’s all it takes for you to reach for the candle again.

 

“Tell me if you need me to stop.” Your voice shakes slightly, too focused on positioning the candle above his chest above anything else. His fingers twitch in anticipation, his eyes, as ruby red as the candle in your hand, seem to burst with need, flickering with a hidden desperation.

 

The second drop of wax hits just above his left nipple. His body flinches as the stinging, tingling sensation spreads out over his chest. Then, the third hits at his collarbone. The fourth, just below his adam’s apple. His breath stuttered and stopped with each one, his back arching up into the feeling.

 

You start with nonsensical, sporadic drops. Which soon, evolve into patterns. His tender skin becomes a blank slate for lines and swirls of deep crimson wax, leaving designs and burning desire in their wake. And in that moment, you were an artist, and he, both muse and canvas.

 

You had come full circle. The first drop of wax had already begun to harden and flake, and fresh ones were added all around it. By this point Diluc is a panting mess, ablaze with need and marked like a pretty ornate decoration. Finally, finally, you slowly pull off his final piece of clothing, leaving him completely bare before you. You take a moment to admire the sight once more, before chuckling, leaning down to press a kiss to his cheek.

 

“Is this good for you, darling?” You can’t help the slight tease that enters your tone. But Diluc doesn’t reply, Simply trembling, jaw hanging open and a line of drool falling from his lips. You let a few drops of wax  hit his thigh, and that snaps him awake once more, a deep, guttural groan escaping him.

 

“Good…” his voice is hoarse, and he doesn’t bother to cover up the cracks or whimpers that fall through, too far gone, too fucked out to care without you even having to touch him. “So good , my beloved… good… feels… good…”

 

You have to admit, you’re not feeling all that together yourself. Just the sight of him spreading his legs apart, looking up at you with those hazy eyes…it isn’t long before your own clothing is coming off, suddenly feeling unbearably hot upon your skin. He watches hungrily as you hastily take off each piece of fabric, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows thickly at the sight, taking in your bare body for the first time.

 

“ Beautiful …”

 

He mutters, eyes shamelessly studying your every feature, every nook and cranny of you. You let out a huff of amusement, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.

 

“You say that a lot.”

 

“I am simply speaking my mind.”

 

“Mm… I didn’t say that was a bad thing.”

 

He smiles, kissing you again and again while you run your hands down his skin, over his hips, then over his painfully hard cock. You feel him moan against your lips, the vibration of his voice sending shivers down your spine. You trace your fingertip over the wax patterns on his lower abdomen while waking a show of circling around his tip. At the slightest touch, his hips involuntarily buck up into you, and you have to hold them down to keep him still.

 

“Ah-ah. I didn’t say you could move, did I?”

 

He gives you a wild, frustrated look, squirming a little in your hold. “Quit stalling…” he hissed out, hands straining against the belt keeping them in place. You couldn’t suppress a chuckle at his impatience, tracing up the shaft of his cock with a featherlight touch, enjoying the way he twitches and ruts against you like an animal in heat. After a moment of teasing him, feeling his thighs spread apart readily, almost as if on instinct, beckoning you in… you finally moved back up to kiss his collarbone, then press your cock up against his, slowly touching it to the base and rolling your hips up to his tip.

 

“Oh, archons …” He gasped out, nails digging into the palms of his hands so hard you could’ve sworn he drew blood. You smile, beginning to rub up and down the length of him, feeling every inch against your sensitivity. You slot together so perfectly, that addictive feeling of closeness filling your body up to the brim with desire. You speed up, not even bothering to tell him off when he starts to move his hips in tandem with yours, pressing against you.

 

Diluc is quiet in bed, you notice. Just like in his day to day, silently watching from the shadows. Even here, bathed in the warm glow of candlelight with the only person he trusts enough to let them tie him up and use him, all he lets out are small grunts, short moans and pleading whispers under his breath. Your speed slows down once more, now languidly rolling your hips and allowing you both to bask in the pleasure, savouring every possibly second of this moment with your lover.

 

Desire thrummed just below the surface of his skin. You could feel it in the pulse point of his slender neck when you press your lips to its surface. You can feel it in the way the dried wax on his skin begins to melt once more, dripping onto the mattress as his body becomes unbearably hot; flushing red with his vision’s power. Every part of him is warm— like stepping into a beam of sunlight in the frozen winter. You press closer to him, chasing the feeling of his heat in the cold room.

 

Just as you began to let your guard down, a pair of hands suddenly grab the back of your head, pulling you in for a kiss and flipping your positions, your back pressing into the bed. You let out an undignified yelp of surprise, hands flying to Diluc’s hips almost instinctively. When he finally pulls away slightly to breathe, you stare up at him wide eyed.

 

Just as you begin to wonder how he got out of his restraints, you spot what remains of your belt on the pillow beside you. Burnt to a crisp.

 

“Hey, I just bought tha—!”

 

You’re cut off by another kiss. This one much shorter. Diluc gives you a small, reassuring smile, one that might seem uncharacteristic or odd to others, but one you had come to know well over your months of being with him. His now free hands run over your chest, and down your sides, wax dripping from his skin onto yours. You hiss in pain, it’s not nearly as not as you thought it’d be, but it still sizzles on your unaccustomed body, a tingling warmth spreading across your veins with each little drop. Beautiful, Crimson, Hot .

 

“I can’t let you be doing all the work… can I?” Diluc whispers, a slightly sultry tone to his voice. You blink in surprise, then laugh, pressing your touch into his hips as he straddles your lap.

 

“Aww, how very generous of you.”

 

He smiles, looking down at you with a deep affection glinting in his eyes. he slowly raises his hips, lining himself up with your cock. Your eyes widen, your nails digging into his flesh to stop him.

 

“W-wait— you’re not— shouldn’t we prepare you first? I—“ You’re cut off by a finger pressed to your lips, a low “shhh…” rumbling in your ear. He then brushes his fingers against your cheek, tracing the outline of your jaw,

 

“I can handle it.”

 

You blink up at him in surprise, the words going straight to your dick. He seems to notice the way your face heats up at his words, and continues, pressing the head of your cock to his entrance.

 

“I told you, there is nothing you can do to me that I cannot handle…”

 

Of course. Of course. Of course Diluc Ragnvindr, the Darknight hero, the gentlemanly nobleman of Mondstadt, the upstanding, polite, reserved man you called yours would continue to surprise you, would continue to drive you wild with each lingering touch and sudden movement. With every soft caress to every drop of fire-red wax dripping onto your skin. And once more, he never fails to amaze as he moves one of his hands back to spread his ass open, as he began to slowly sink down onto your aching cock.

 

He’s warm.

 

Almost unbearably hot.

 

He takes his time, pausing to let his body adjust to the feeling of you before inching a little further down, carefully sinking onto your cock. You’d wonder how he was even able to take it with no preparation, but here, like this, with you buried deep inside him… your mind was too fuzzy to care. He’s about halfway down now, hands planted firmly on your chest to steady himself as he catches his breath.

 

And that’s when you grabbed his waist and slammed him the rest of the way down.

 

Maybe you did it out of vengeance, or sadism, or pure impatience. It doesn’t matter. It wouldn’t change they way he let out a strangled, startled cry, body clenching around you. His nails dig into you, desperate for purchase as you lift him up and slam him down again.

 

“Oh, archons !” He gasps, covering a mouth with his hand. You quickly grab his wrist, pulling it away.  “Oh, no no, none of that. I want to hear every little sweet sound you make , my love.” You coo, continuing to buck your hips up into him, each thrust sending shivers through his battered body. He tries to put on a stern face, but with his flushed cheeks, furrowed brows and tear-stinged eyes, it looked more like an expression of hedonism than anything. You laugh, sitting up and wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him flush against your body, your thrusts slightly more slow but no less intense. He instantly throws his arms around you, burying his face in your neck for comfort. His hands claw at your back, gripping anything they could reach in an attempt to ground himself. You rest your head against his, nuzzling into his soft hair as you continue.

 

Every breath, every gasp and shaky inhale, you felt against your skin. He lets out a low, guttural moan, shivering. Then, he begins to move his hips in tandem with yours, bouncing on your lap as if your body is something he craves, something he needs. Water, food, shelter, his lover’s perfect cock stretching him open, hitting every sweet spot and nerve in his sensitive, warm core.

 

He whispers your name with a reverence, repeating it a few more times as if in prayer. You stroke him comfortingly, mumbling soft praises into his hair. The rain outside, the flickering candles, every responsibility or care… all was null compared to the divinity of a single moment between two people, a dance of flame and languid touches as the angelic choir of his moans filled the room.

 

You barely even processed that you were close before that rush of white-hot pleasure washes over your body, every limb going numb for a single second as you felt him squeeze you, greedily taking everything you give him . You rut into him, chasing those little aftershocks of climax, bringing a hand down between you to slide up and down his slick length as you do so. It isn’t long before his back arches into you, and his eyes close in utter bliss as his own orgasm washes over him.

 

He practically goes boneless, collapsing into your arms like a fucked-out ragdoll, panting for breath. You carefully move yourself so you lay on the bed with him sprawled out on top of you like a blanket, taking in his warm, twitching body.

 

“Mmmn…” he hums, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You kiss the top of his head, lazily running your fingers through his hair. Rain pitter-patters on the window, thunder booms in the distance, yet all you can focus on your Diluc’s soft breaths, his warmth .

 

And until one of you bothers to even think about trying to clean wax stains off of fabric, you will stay in one another’s embrace, satisfied.

Chapter 9: Plant Monster Panic— Tighnari

Notes:

Guys I’m supposed to be doing the work I’ve been procrastinating on for weeks. Anyways

WARNINGS: Monsterfucking, Plant Monster!Reader, Injured!Reader, Vines, Thorns, Use of Aphrodisiacs (SLIGHT dubcon as a result, but otherwise very consensual), Aphrodisiac Pollen, Oral (M Receiving), Oral (M Giving), Anal Penetration, Blood, Masochism, Sap, Mating Seasons, Heat Cycles, Mention of a Territorial Skirmish 

Tighnari has seen a lot of things in his years as a Forest Ranger. From idiotic teenagers eating clearly poisonous mushrooms to Rishboland Tiger attacks to criminals hiding in the bushes, he’s well versed in all the dangers you could find in the dense jungle around Gandharva Ville. However, even the most learned of scholars have gaps in their knowledge. And while Tighnari knew plants better than the back of his hand, there were some species that remained elusive to even his sharp, canid eyes. Some that lurked just beyond the shadows between trees, who did not want to be caught.

 

It was a bleary, misty day when Tighnari set out on his usual patrol. The air was thick and humid, dew condensing on the fur of his well-groomed tail, much to his chagrin. He grumbled and drew his hood up over his flattened ears as a drop of last night’s rainwater landed on his head form the trees up above, and kept moving, hopping over a half-rotten log. He was in the thick of the forest now, well away from human settlement, yet he felt right at home. Though, the usual comfort he felt in the woods evaded him for reasons he could not explain. Perhaps it was the unusual quiet around him, not a songbird’s chitter or an insect’s buzz. Or maybe, the fog that closed in around him, obscuring his vision. Or maybe… he sniffed the air, and froze in place, ice shooting down his spine.

 

Blood .

 

He drew his bow and arrow immediately, moving cautiously towards the source of the scent. He creeped on light footfalls, his fur prickling.

 

“Hey, is anyone there?” He spoke at a calm volume, but his voice echoed off the dense wood. There came no reply, so he waited for a moment before he spoke again. “Hello?”

 

Suddenly, a faint, strained voice answered him. “… who are you ?”

 

For some reason, the simple question deeply unnerved him. There was something off about the way this stranger spoke… it both terrified and intrigued him. “I’m a forest ranger. Are you hurt? I can help you.”

 

There was a pause, before the mysterious voice answered again, so quietly even he, with his superior hearing had to strain to catch what it said. “Help… over here…”

 

It almost seemed like the forest itself opened up to let him through. Tighnari kept his grip on his bow tight as he stepped towards the voice. He moved around a tree into a small clearing, a little creek flowing through the rocks and moss. And there, at its edge, sat perhaps the strangest creature he had ever laid eyes upon.

 

You were human, that’s for sure. Well, human-shaped , at least. The flowers on your head and around your neck and arms, The sharpness of your teeth and eyes, The vines coiled around your skin… no, growing from your skin? Tighnari was more than confused, more than sickened, more than… really attracted? He chose to ignore that last part. You met his gaze, and he pointed his arrow at you threateningly, tail flicking behind him.

 

“What are you?” He hissed through his bared, sharp teeth. You met his gaze, but didn’t answer, just moved your arm to expose a massive wound in your side, dripping blood into the moss below and washing away with the creek.

 

“You said… you could help me…”

 

Tighnari thought for a moment, then sighed, putting his weapon away and cautiously stepping forward. You flinched when he approached, so he slowed his movements. “What happened?”

 

You just stared at him.

 

He scoffed, now more irritated than afraid of you. He doesn’t care if you’re human, beast, or archon, there’s no excuse for straight rudeness. “Not very talkative, are you?”

 

You just cocked your head, a petal falling from one of the flowers growing out of your flesh. “You know what… I don’t care. None of my business what dumb ways people get themselves hurt.” He sighed, shaking his head and kneeling down next to you to assess the wound. It wasn’t deep, certainly not fatal, but archons did it looks painful. A stab wound, perhaps? He pushed all his questions about you to the side for now, taking out his medical bag.

 

He feels your gaze on him as he works, trying to ignore the curling, thorny vines all around you and him. He pulls out a vial of disinfectant, steeling himself for what was coming next.

 

“This is to help you, but this is going to hurt. If you squirm too much I’ll pin you down.”

 

To his surprise, you let out a little chuckle, your voice like the rustling of leaves in a peaceful forest. “Can’t hurt more than it already does…”

 

Tighnari huffed in response, not being able to help the smile creeping on his lips. “Yeah, I bet… with a wound like that…” he soaked a cloth in the disinfectant. “Alright, brace yourself. Three, two…”

 

You let out a loud, inhuman hiss when the cloth was pressed to your side. Tighnari yelped when a vine wrapped around his wrist at lightning speed, nearly crushing him in it’s vicelike grip. But as quickly as it came, it retracted, and you sat up straighter, a look of horror on your face.

 

“Ah, I’m sorry, I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, are you alright, ranger?” You took his wrist in your hands, rubbing at the puncture wounds left behind by the thorns. He ripped his hand away from yours, giving you a warning look.

 

“You’re fine, you big lummox. Just sit there and stay still.”

 

You blinked in surprise, as if you were shocked he wasn’t pulling out a weapon or running for the hills. But Tighnari simply continues his work, tail flicking impatiently behind him. You’re not the first patient to lash out during treatment. Even if you had a little odder of a method, it’s no worse than being punched by an injured student or bit by a frightened stray.

 

Soon, the wound was dressed and bandaged, and he sat back on his knees, sighing. “There. Avoid sleeping on that side, and change the bandages tomorrow morning. You should be healed within a week if… whatever you are heals like a human does. You should also—“

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Don’t pick at the sca— wait, what?” Tighnari looked at you in surprise.

 

“Thank you.” You smiled so sweetly, he almost forgot about the vines that so freaked him out just moments before. You leaned in, eyes fixed on his ears. “You didn’t try to kill me. You even helped me. Thank you.”

 

“Oh.” Tighnari was more than ashamed of the red creeping up his cheeks when you leaned in. He… honestly wasn’t used to patients being so grateful to him. “It just my job, no need to make it a whole thing—“

 

He cut himself off when you suddenly pet his head, scratching behind his ears. He grabbed your wrist, heart pounding as he pulled it off him. “Asking first would be nice, you know.”

 

“Ah, sorry…” you, the big scary plant monster, actually looked… sort of bashful. “It’s spring…. So having you this close to me… it’s making me a little out of sorts.”

 

He froze, trying to process what you just said. “Why does it matter that it’s spring?”

 

“Well, it’s…” You paused, hesitation written on your face. He immediately new what you were talking about. After all, it’s something his species has to go through every year, too.

 

“Mating season, isn’t it?” He breathed out, keeping a steady voice despite the heat pooling in his abdomen.

 

You blinked, then looked to the side in shame. “Yes…”

 

“And that explains the injury? Your kind gets a little…?”

 

“Skirmishes over territory are common during this time.”

 

“I see...” Tighnari looks you over closely. It made sense, the blooming flowers around your body, the way you looked so intently at him earlier… “no one to spend it with?”

 

You shook your head sadly. He took a look over your body, at the tangling vines and brightly coloured, enticing flowers. He swallowed thickly, suddenly consumed by imagination. Involuntarily, his tail began to thump rhythmically behind him. He normally wasn’t one to fall to lust so easily, or pounce on every stranger he just met. But something about the one before him, with your inhuman appearance and enchanting voice… or maybe it was just pure curiosity, the need to know what those flowers would smell like up close, how those vines would feel wrapped around his thighs and drawing him in closer… if he was feeling so out of sorts, he can imagine what you’re going through. He knew from experience how painful going through a heat cycle alone was, he felt bad having to leave you here to deal with it.

 

…unless?

 

You seemed to have the same idea he did, with the way one of your vines had begun to coil up his leg, slowly wrapping around his calf, his thigh, thorns digging just slightly into he clothing.

 

“Maybe I do have someone to spend it with…”

 

Tighnari took a deep, shaky breath as a thicker vine wrapped around his waist, hoisting him up into the air as if he weighed nothing. You slowly rose to your feet, cocking your head at him in a silent question. He considered for a moment. Would everyone be worried if he came back late? What would he tell them? Fennec foxes mate for life, would he really just be able to move past this?

 

But as the vines slowly pulled his legs apart, the thrill that rushed through him overrode all worry or doubt. He found himself helping, even, ears twitching in anticipation.

 

“I haven’t released my aphrodisiac yet.” You blinked in confusion, seeming genuinely surprised instead of mocking. “Why are you so flushed?”

 

“Because…” He found himself trailing off, not wanting to say the reason out loud, even if you both knew it. He let the question float in the air between them, buzzing with tension.

 

“…most outside my kind run in fear, or try to attack.” The vines snake up his arms, wrapping around his wrists and keeping them snugly bound together. “You want me?”

 

Tighnari reckoned that the shaky breath he let out told you all you needed to know. It took almost no time at all for the vines to pull off his belt, sliding his clothing down. He was surprised to see how careful you were being. Despite your many thorns, you handled the fabric with care, as if afraid to rip it. He suddenly felt very appreciative… you must be going against your very instincts to treat him so gently, like fine porcelain.

 

But the blood running down his bare thigh, the thorns digging into his hips said the exact opposite.

 

Tighnari didn’t even notice when he started feeling so woozy.

 

When his eyes started to droop and his brain was filled with just as much fog as the forest around them. When the gentle creek they were next to began to sound so far away. When the thorns began to not hurt a bit. He could see them, digging into his skin, but he couldn’t feel them at all. No, all he felt was heat . Gathering in his chest, dripping over his ribs like drops of creek water before cascading down all at once, filling his whole being with a humming, pulsing ache for more .

 

His hazy eyes managed to focus themselves just enough to see the vague outline of you, all the flowers growing on your flesh now open.

 

Pollen .

 

Sweet-smelling, abundant, addicting pollen.

 

Even in the state his brain was in, he could put two and two together. You must have released your aphrodisiac. And archons, even his yearly ruts were not this bad. It’s like as if those intense feelings which lasted him a month or two were suddenly condensed into a single moment, and his body was struggling to keep up with it. He barely registered the fact that you were know knelt between his legs, all he could focus on was the next wave of bruising pleasure that washed over him.

 

Your tongue was cold against him. It was such an odd sensation, coolness against his burning skin. It was as soothing as it was tantalizing, and Tighnari found himself chasing that feeling, thrashing in the tight vines that encased him. However, no matter how much he struggled, they kept him in firm place. He couldn’t help the low, frustrated whine that left him as his head lolled to the side, eyes shut tight as your mouth wrapped around his needy cock.

 

When a vine (one of the few without thorns, thank the celestials) began to slide between his ass cheeks, he almost snapped wide awake. The shock of pleasure as all the blood in his body suddenly rushed south would have been embarrassing if he had even half the mind he usually does. But now, in this bleary state, all he could do was let out a little, weak gasp.

 

The thick vine slid up and down over his entrance, secreting a… what was this? Some sort of sap, but less sticky. It’s scent was as the pollen in the air, but somehow even sweeter. You pressed some kitten licks to his tip as the vine began to slowly circle around his hole in a mesmerizing motion, and the combination made him instantly finish.

 

But finish isn’t the right word, is it?

 

You stood to your feet, licking the residue of him off your lips and leaning in to press a kiss to his heaving chest. His head rolled back as he came down from his high, only to immediately be jolted back into pleasure as the vine began to slowly enter him.

 

“Shhh… relax, relax, relax…” your whispers against his neck did little to stop his little whimpers, the fucked-out sobs that racked his body. He hadn’t even realized he had begun to cry, but the overstimulation had caused his flushed cheeks to become stained with teardrops. You cradled his face so sweetly, wiping his tears just for more to come.

 

He’s never been so… vulnerable in a situation like this. Maybe it’s the aphrodisiac, or the openness of where this was happening, or the peculiar but stunning creature in front of him… no matter which or if any at all, the vine sliding further into him, stretching him slowly around its girth was enough for him to break down and beg for more.

 

You hugged him to you, nuzzling into his neck as your vine reached as far as it could comfortably do so inside him. You gave him a moment to adjust, before slowly beginning to thrust in and out of his well-lubed heat. He let out a downright animalistic sound, quickly silenced by your fingers, sneaking into his mouth and pressing down on his tongue. He let out a surprised gasp, eyes wide as he knew what was coming next.

 

A smooth vine slid past his lips. Once it was fully inside, you removed your fingers, letting it prod at the back of his throat. He let out a strangled noise, and then a choked sob as it began to fill even his throat with that sickeningly sweet, caramel-like sap. And it tasted good . So good he couldn’t help but suckle on the intruding vine, gulping down the thick liquid so very obediently. You practically purred praise into his ear, scratching the sensitive base of his fluffed-up tail as he was penetrated by the two vines.

 

His body jerked as the vines sped up their movements, slamming into him again and again in a brutal pace. He was at your mercy in his entirety now, able to do nothing but choke and moan and curl his toes at the overwhelming feelings you’re pumping into him. The vine in his mouth retracts, and he gasps for breath, sap dripping from his used lips.

 

You touched a fingertip to his shaft, and he exploded in another wave of blinding, white-hot pleasure, singeing the circuits in his hazy mind. And as the vine filled him with a final burst of thick sap, it was over.

 

The vine slowly slid out of him again, flicking slick from itself. You kept him suspended, letting him ride out the aftershocks of his second orgasm, his body twitching with each one.

 

“Thank you…” you whispered as you began to lower him. However, the second his hands were free, he grabbed you by the back of your head and pulled you in for a kiss. When you pulled away, you both were panting. The aphrodisiac had begun to wear off, but he was still in such a blissful state of mind, clinging to you like a kitten rescued from the rain.

 

“What… was that?” You looked at him in confusion, and he stared at you blankly for a moment before realizing what you meant. He let out a breathless laugh, tail swishing behind him.

 

“A kiss.”

 

“Kiss…” you tiled your head as you mulled this over. He could practically see the gears turning in your head. “Why do you do it?”

 

“Think of it as a… human courting ritual.” He left it at that, and kissed you again, softer this time. You melted into it immediately this time.

 

“Ah… I think I… I like these human customs…”

 

“I’ll teach you all you wish to know, as long as you do this with me again.”

Chapter 10: Whispers on the Wind— Venti

WARNINGS: Reader has male anatomy, semi-public (nature) sex, drinking so slight dubcon as a result, anal w no prep, mating press, riding, overstimulation, biting/marking rough handling, mortal/god, masturbation? I guess?, size difference, begging, LOTS of buildup mb, friends to lovers, lying to you I guess cause he hides his identity, pining, nervous reader

 

Venti was typically so careful.

 

You’d never know it, with his loud voice and that confident skip in his step. But he was. He was so cautious of every word he said, every movement and every step he took. Well… that may not be the right way to say it. Truth is, Venti was never adverse to throwing that caution to the wind the second he got a little too hyped, a little too angered, a little too drunk…

 

And oh Barbatos, it got so much worse around you.

 

Whether it was late nights at Angel’s Share, laughing over every little thing until you’re eventually kicked out because he burst into song, or trying to hide from the Favonious in the alleys of the city, flushed drunk cheeks and whispery giggles at every unaware passerby, or even nights like this, huddled together under a wool blanket on the soft grasses of Windrise. It was these sorts of moments that made him glad you thought he was only another mortal. He couldn’t help but wonder if you’d feel differently about him if you knew the truth, if you knew you were cuddled up to the soft side of a god.

 

And he’d be lying just a little bit if he claimed that leaning against you like this was only to keep out the cold, though, the winds brought a certain chill with them as they tousled his hair and prickled his skin. No, that was only part of it. He had to admit that pressing his flushed cheek to your shoulder felt nice. You shifting closer and pull the blanket tighter around you felt nice. The burn of dandelion wine in his chest felt nice. He tried not to think too much about the leftover taste of you on the rim of your shared bottle.

 

You’re saying something. Talking about a little thing that bothered you the other day, or something like that. He finds himself wholly unable to focus on your words. His eyes were darting around your face, trying to settle on just one thing to appreciate. His brain felt torn in so many directions, eyes, jaw, nose, neck… finally, he zeroed in on your lips.

 

Perhaps it was the alcohol flooding his veins that made him want to lean closer. Perhaps it was the proximity that made him follow every movement and twitch of your mouth as you spoke. Perhaps it was simple curiosity, perhaps it was more. Whatever it was didn’t change the odd feeling building inside him, and soon, his cheeks were flushed from more than just wine.

 

“Yeah, and then this scammy merchant from Fontaine seriously said—“

 

You rattled on, but he could only think about one thing: getting you closer to him.

 

Suddenly, the wind picked up.

 

The cold air buffeted against you, the blanket providing little protection from its bite. You shivered, leaning into his body for warmth.

 

Venti couldn’t help the grin that spread on his face.

 

“Ugh… think we should head back? It looks like a storm is coming…” you looked up at the darkening sky, but he quickly shot that idea down.

 

“Oh, no no! Trust me, it’s just a little wind.” He takes your hand, pulling it into his lap. “No need to leave yet…”

 

You scoff. “Sounds like you just don’t want to let go of me…”

 

“And so what? Besides, have I ever been wrong about the weather before?”

 

“…no, you haven’t. But still—“

 

“So trust me!” His head falls onto your chest, practically nuzzling into you. Your hand finds the back of his head, entangling itself in his hair as it had done so many times before. You sigh, resting against him in turn.

 

“Alright. But I still think you’re clingy.”

 

“But you’re letting me, so…?” He looks up at you, quirking up an eyebrow. You click your tongue, absentmindedly playing with a few loose strands of his hair.

 

“Yes. I’m part of the problem.”

 

He laughs, burying his face in your chest again. You rest your chin atop his head, the wind slowing back down to a gentle breeze. It is truly nighttime now, silvery moonlight filtering in through the branches of Windrise, casting an almost ethereal glow onto you. Venti found himself transfixed once more, pressing his cheek into your sternum as he looks down at your lap, feeling the overwhelming impulse to throw a leg over you and fully make use of such a wonderful throne. He’s sure you would let him. He’s sure you would put your arms around his waist and pull him closer. Perhaps you would even kiss him, his lips, down his neck, lower…

 

He snaps himself out of his thoughts, instead focusing on the way you bring the bottle of Dandelion Wine up to your lips, taking a slow, savouring sip. It was almost empty, and when you saw him looking at you, you tilted your head down at him.

 

“Want the rest?”

 

“Is that even a question?” He laughs. Then, a brilliant idea ignites his mind. “Mm… but my hands are so cold… how will I grab the bottle?” He makes a show of it, letting out a deep sigh of feigned irritation.

 

You scoff, nudging him slightly. “Well what do you want me to do? Hold it for you?”

 

“Hey, that’s not a bad idea!”

 

He gleans an unreal amount of satisfaction from watching your eyes widen. He understands, after all, you’ve only ever flirted in a joking manner before, only ever touched him as a friend. He didn’t want to you to touch him as a friend. Maybe it was a selfish desire, for a god to love a mortal, knowing what end awaits their relationship. Especially a god such as him, who had experienced it firsthand. Still, he didn’t want a friend in you, though he would have gladly taken you in any way you chose to give yourself to him. Be that a friend, a companion, a lover… Anything but a stranger.

 

You hesitate, looking down at him with a strange mix of desire and confusion. He taps his lips expectantly, a cheshire grin on his face. Eventually, you sigh, giving in. He revels in the way you place your hand on his chin, gently pulling his lips apart.

 

“Hold still…”

 

He does. Eagerly. And as the warm burn of the wine hits the back of his throat, he closes his eyes, a feeling not unlike the roar of the countless storms that hover above Mondstadt weaved between his ribs, yet it settled so gently in the ventricles of his heart, as gently as the soft pressure of your fingers on his chin and the careful way you pour the liquid down his ready throat.

 

To his dismay, all things must come to an end. And eventually, the bottle is empty, set to the side as he swallows the last drops of it. Yet your hand still lingers on his chin, your face still so close to his. He slowly opens his eyes, meeting yours. You seem to realize the position you’re in, and pull back slightly, hand dropping away.

 

“…satisfied?” You turn away, looking back out over the little lake of Windrise.

 

“No.” He says in a hoarse, breathy voice. “Not at all.”

 

You turn to him again, a look of confusion on your face. His brows furrow, lips pressed together tightly as he considers his options.

 

“I’d need much more of you, you know.”

 

He watches as you blink slowly, processing his words. He knew he was crossing a line, one he might not be able to come back from. But the way your hand twitched, the way your eyes flicked down to his lips… perhaps this wasn’t so hopeless an endeavour after all.

 

“…How much more?”

 

He smiles, leaning in so his face was mere inches away from your parted lips, puffs of breath mingling with yours. “Well, for starters… you’re wayyyyy too far away from me.”

 

“Is that so?” Your hands instinctively came up to his waist, and he smiled at the touch, at your reactions to him. He brushed his hand up your arm, fingers trailing over your skin, his eyes fixed on the goosebumps it leaves in its wake. It’s a tantalizing sight, the effect he has on you physically… he could only imagine what you could be feeling internally. He hoped it mirrored the desire, the heat festering within his windborn heart. He was an ember left unattended for far too long, smouldering into a forest fire at the slightest touch of the breeze. Ironically, the feel of you was sobering, the cool water to soothe that blaze, and dare he say, control it.

 

His hand reached the open expanse of your neck now, grazing along the skin until his fingers could curl into the collar of your shirt. He made a point to cock his head to the side ever so slightly, wearing the most innocent expression he could. He’s thousands of years old, he knows what makes a human tick. He’ll lean in a little more, flick his eyes down for the barest second, let his thigh press against yours while you kiss. And speaking of kissing…

 

“Hey…” his tone is hushed, accompanied by a breathy giggle.

 

“Hi.” A wobbly, nervous smile forms on your face. You both burst into a fit of laughter, trying to keep yourselves quiet and failing miserably. You pull him tighter, forehead resting against his like it was instinctual. When you finally gather yourselves, your eyes meet. And for the first time in his long, long life, Venti wants to beg.

 

You looked like nothing else. Cheeks flushed from laughter and much more, eyes crinkled at the corners with mirth. Ah, he wanted to study every inch of that face, to draw it over and over until he could rival a photograph with his eyes closed…

 

“I want to kiss you.”

 

He blinked in surprise, yanked from his dreamy thoughts by your firm voice. “Uh— what…?”

 

“I mean… can I?” You chuckle nervously, glancing to the side.

 

He blinked again, processing this. Then, a grin spread on his face, so wide it made his cheeks hurt.

 

“I’m sorry, ignore me, It’s—!” You’re cut off by his lips on yours, pressing into you with such vigour it nearly knocked you back. His arms wrap fully around your neck now, keeping you firmly close to him. He feels you freeze up, before slowly melting into him, your hands coming up to gently hold his waist, your touch warming the skin beneath his clothing. He took one of your hands, guiding it behind him to the lace of his corset. Your breath hitched into his lips, but you got the memo quickly, untying the string with a little pull and letting the garment unravel.

 

It wasn’t long before you had moved forward, pressing him onto the grass below. The empty bottle of wine lay discarded now, but the taste of it on your lips was an addicting nectar to him, two of his favourite things, mixed into a tantalizing cocktail of sensation as his fingers trace the skin of your neck. When you pull apart, your breaths are heavy yet soft. He kept his eyes closed for a moment, simply letting your breath wash over each other, revelling in the divine feeling of you.

 

Your eyes slowly opened, meeting his. He let himself put on a self-satisfied grin at your flushed expression, which slowly morphed into a smile in turn. It’s a moment that could almost be perceived as sweet, if he didn’t feel the sudden pressure of your hard-on against his thigh.

 

“Excited?” He raises his brows with a little giggle, watching as you cover your mouth and turn away. He takes both your cheeks in his hands, pulling you back to look at him properly while his thumbs run over your skin. He pulls you down into another, much shorter kiss, letting your body settle in on top of him. Once you pull apart again you get to work peeling off his clothing, pawing at the strings of his cape. He helps you by hastily unbuttoning his shirt, desperate to have the cold air touch his too-hot skin. Soon, the bare skin of his back is touching the soft grass, and your upper layers are halfway through being slid off. The pads of your fingers pressed into his sides, tracing the narrow snap of his waist. His eyes widened as you grew bolder, reverent touches suddenly turning rough as you all but ripped off his lower layers.

 

It was hard for him to control his mortal form in that moment.

 

When your hands grab onto his waist, he doesn’t swallow his moan. In fact, he makes a show of it, singing to the high heavens when you pluck his strings just right. It’s a bard’s job, after all. He felt you smile against the skin of his neck, pressing a kiss to his pulse point. He sighed, shifting to get comfortable on the soft grass.

 

“You really are pretty like this…” you let out a low hum, a fingertip tapping against his bare hip. He laughed breathily, unconsciously moving into the touch.

 

“Oh ho ho— have you imagine me like this before?”

 

“Mm… maybe…” you grinned, lifting your head so your half lidded eyes met his. “You’re… very easy to desire.”

 

Something about the way you worded that struck him. The wind around you grew stronger, breezing through your clothing. Clothing? Too much of it, in fact. While he spoke, he began to shed you of it. “Aww… so you have been wanting me? Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

You help him take your upper layers off, a little hastily. “Why didn’t you?”

 

“Ah. Touché.”

 

You share a quick kiss, before getting to work on your lower layers. Your bare chest pressed against his, skin against burning skin as your lips wander his throat. He relaxes, letting you spoil him like this, basking in every shred of attention you throw him like an obedient hound. His legs fall apart for you so easily, and you settle between them, hooking your arm under one of his legs to dig into the soft flesh of his thigh and pull it up, leaving him completely open beneath you. You begin to move down to prepare him with your tongue, but he stops you with a hand on your cheek.

 

“No… no need.”

 

“…what?”

 

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your neck and pulling you close. “No need. Just go right for it, dear!”

 

He watches as his words load in your mind, your eyes wide as you short circuit. Being an archon comes with many benefits… one of those being a much more malleable body. And he didn’t want to wait a moment longer to feel the sweet bliss of you inside of him. He didn’t want to hold off on the feeling of your hips flush against his, to hear the melody of your pretty sounds, the snapping together of your bodies, the ramblings tumbling from your lips…

 

He wrapped his legs around you suddenly, pulling you in with a vice grip. You let out an undignified noise of surprise, but quickly get the memo, scrambling to get into position above him.

 

“As you wish… darling.”

 

Your words were so nervous, adorable. But before he could even giggle you had pushed the head of your already-weeping cock into him, parting his small frame on your girth. He lets out a sigh of relief, making sure to moan as encouragingly as possible for you. He could see the surprise on your face when his body offered no resistance, instead pulling you in so eagerly, so readily into his tight heat. He felt your slow movements, and assumed you didn’t want to just rut into him like dog right out of the gate. Unfortunately for you, he wasn’t a patient man.

 

He used his ankles to dig into your back, forcing you all the way in. Your eyes widen, and then, the expression he’d been longing for crosses your face. A look of feral, wild want. Every soft touch, every lingering glance, every shared bottle… everything had let up to this. You gently placed your hands on either side of him, and fuck him.

 

Every thrust bottomed out completely within him, filling him up over and over again. One would expect his small body to struggle taking something so large, something that looking like it could split him in two, but no. He took it perfectly. He gasped out your name, head falling back in a cry of pleasure. Your mouth found his chest, licking and sucking until dark welts bloomed on his pale flesh. The wind around you was now a buffeting force, raising goosebumps on your skin and shaking the tree above you. But even celestia themselves couldn’t pry the two of you apart in that moment, while his nails gouged your spine and his lips parted in ecstasy.

 

“Oh, Barbatos…” you huffed under your breath, the vibrations of your voice spreading across his flushed, bruised skin.

 

He froze.

 

Oh Celestia, he cried out.

 

The quickly-fading logical part of his brain knew it was an expression, knew that there was no way you could have known his true name, but everything else, every nerve, every synapse, every muscle of his body was awash with pure ecstasy. The sound of it on your lips along with the pleasure each thrust gave him almost sent him over the edge. Almost. He needed more.

 

“Say that again.” He commanded, grabbing at you to pull you impossibly closer to him. You seemed confused for a moment, but were clearly too lost in the moment yourself to question it.

 

“Ah, Barbatos…”

 

It sent a delicious shiver through him. He reached down a hand, beginning to desperately stroke his own achingly hard cock. “Again. Please, again.”

 

“Barbatos?” Your hazy eyes looked over him, observing the effect your words had on him. He watches your confused expression morph into a smirk. You grabbed his thighs, bending them up so that his ankles wear almost at his ears. “Barbatos!”

 

His body clasped down around you, a downright lecherous yowl tumbling from his lips. He fucked into his fist, in turn grinding into your length as he reached his climax.

 

Stars sparked behind his eyelids as the white-hot sensation bloomed in his lower abdomen, and splattered across his chest. It was at the sight of this pleasure, and at the feel of his clenching body that you also came, slamming your cock into him one more time and letting it all spill into him.

 

You took a moment to catch your breath. Or, you would have if he didn’t already have his hands on your chest, pushing you onto the grass and getting on top of you.

 

“Venti—!?”

 

You’re cut off by a searing kiss. His hands roamed your body, which he knew was still sensitive and hot from your orgasm. By the time you pulled apart, he was already pumping his hand up and down your cock, trying to get it erected again.

 

“Can we go again? Please, can we go again—” his voice was shaky, but his grin was lustful. “You’ll give it to me, right? Please say you will…”

 

He was desperate. And had plenty of energy to spare. He barely registered the way your eyes widened, clearly trying to process his words in the fog of overstimulation. He had straddled you, positioned above you in a way that left no room for doubt as to his intentions. One word of a yes, one touch from you would be all that it would take for him to sit down.

 

For a moment, his excitement crashed into fear. Had he pushed the mortal too far? Could their body and mind not handle this? Had he asked too much?

 

His doubts were silenced by your hands grabbing his hips, pulling him flush against you with a feral hunger in your eyes. The deafening buzz of pleasure took over again as he was slammed down onto your cock, half riding you and half being fucked into.

 

Perhaps he would one day tell you why the cry of Barbatos from your lips affected him so, why the wind seemed to howl around you with each sloppy buck of your hips. But here, on the soft, lush grass under the tree of windrise, he enjoyed the moment, pressing his lips to yours again and again in between his wanton cries.

Chapter 11: What a Feeling- Navia

WARNINGS: Enemies to Lovers/Rivals to Lovers, biting, cunnilingus, oral sex, lipstick marking, hints of thigh crushing

 

T he nature of Navia’s work gave her a lot of connections and business partners. However, it also yielded enemies. A lot of enemies. One of which, was you.

 

This… enemy-ship with you was an unspoken one, hidden under twin veneers of polite smiles and friendly conversation. You’d never done anything to actively sabotage her, at least, not openly. But on the rare occasions you spoke there was this underlying current of tension, thinly drawn, ready to snap at the tiniest misstep or falter in tone. Navia’s fingers tightened around her teacup as she tried to maintain that illusion, eyes fixed on where you sat across the table in a private meeting room. 

 

You were negotiating a partnership in an upcoming case. Navia can’t say she wasn’t slightly apprehensive about working with you given your previous tensions and partial rivalry, but part of her hoped that this would be a break in your relationship, and perhaps open the door for friendship. But that steely look in her eyes diminished her hopes somewhat. You certainly didn’t seem interested in ‘friendship’, by the stiff way you sat and the fact you’d barely touched any of the refreshments she so carefully laid out. 

 

“Why don’t I pour you some tea?” She tried to keep her voice as smooth as possible. You just raised your brows, lips drawn tight in… suspicion? 

 

“You’re too kind, Miss. But, no. I’m alright.” 

 

“No, really, I insist.” She shot back, grabbing the teapot stood in the centre of the table. “What kind of host would I be if I didn’t tend to your needs?” 

 

“That really won’t be necessary.” Your voice came out slightly snappier than normal, that mask of perfect calmness cracking. Despite herself, she found herself wanting to push just a little bit harder, and see it shatter completely. Who were you under that practiced smile? She wanted to know everything. At least, right now, she knew exactly what you were thinking. She poured herself another cup, drinking it slowly in front of you, making sure you saw her swallow. She was careful with her movements, trying to make them as free from possible deception as possible. She didn’t want to outright say ‘I’m not trying to poison you’, so this was the next best thing. You followed every movement closely with a hawk-eyed sort of glare, then, sighed. “Alright. I’ll have a cup.” 

 

“I’m glad you reconsidered.” She felt her chest grow a little lighter at your trust, pouring you a cup. Your fingers just barely grazed hers as you took it from her, inspecting it closely, brows furrowed. Then, with a slightly shaky hand, you took a sip. 

 

She watched you part your lips around the rim of the teacup, your grip on the handle tight. Something about the sight… 

 

Oh, this was strange. 

 

Perhaps it was the trust you were showing her in this cutthroat business, perhaps it was because this was the first time you accepted any proposition from her. But that motion along made a light sort of feeling flutter in her heart. She leaned back, taking a long dring from her own tea as well. 

 

Proceedings went as normal as they could be for the next half-hour. Though, the strangest things started happening to Navia. Her eyes drifted from your eyes down to your fingers, wrapped around that teacup. Her hands clutched in the fabric of her dress when your lips curled up into a slight smile. You were warming up to her . It was an addictive feeling, having someone who was so cagey around you slowly melt that icy glare, slowly relax and even laugh with her. She was told she had that effect on even the coldest of souls, but perhaps you were much warmer than she initially thought. Eventually, you settled on an agreement, a mutual arrangement for the benefit of the case. You stood, fixing your clothing. 

 

“I must say, this was a rather productive meeting. I’m glad we were able to come to a… mututal agreement.” 

 

She stood as well, giving you the most dazzling smile she could muster. She was so energized right now, the thrill of a new partnership overwhelming her earlier apprehension. “Mmhm! Please, feel free to come by any time, even just for a friendly chat.” 

 

You nodded slowly, as if seriously considering it. That thought sent another jolt of excitement through her. You reached out your hand, and she took it. 

 

The feel of your skin against hers sent a very different feeling through her entirely. Something skipped in her chest, and her eyes snapped to yours, which seemed none the wiser to her plight. You shook her hand, but she could only return it weakly. Then, you let go of her. She let out a long, deep breath. She couldn’t tell if it was out of relief or dissapointment. 

 

“I’ll escort you out. Follow me.” 

 

This time, you didn’t argue, following her out into the scrap-metal halls. The Spina was quiet today, everyone either busy or taking the day to rest, so the halls were pretty much empty save for the occasional person running by or stopping to give a respectful nod to Navia. 

 

“You’re held in high regard.” You suddenly remarked. She looked at you in surprise, was that a compliment? 

 

“Ah, I do hope so. I try to give back to the people as much as they gave to me.” 

 

“How noble.” You picked at your nails while you walked. Navia found herself transfixed on that motion. The ghost of your hand against hers tingled over the skin of her palm. She clenched her hand into a tight fist. 

 

“You flatter me. But it is only the least I could do.” 

 

You looked over her for a moment. Oh, she would gove anything to know what you were thinking in that moment, what you thought of her . But your face betrayed no emotion, and you certainly didn’t verbalize any of those thoughts that were clearly running through your mind. “You care deeply for your people. It is respectable.” 

 

Her heart soared at those words. You really were complimenting her! What a beautiful feeling it was, to worm her way into the regard of such a beautiful person.

 

  Beautiful ? Is that what she thought of you? 

 

Her eyes raked over your face for a moment, over your clothing, and any patch of skin they could fixate on. Were you beautiful to her? She’d been so wrapped up in your mistrust of her she never even stopped to consisder it. It was true you were well-liked among the people, it was true you held a certain charm and calmness about you even in the presence of those you disliked, and somehow, your skittishness just added to that. You were cautious, you clearly thought through every scenario with her and only let her in when it was clear she was the best possible one. She did enjoy people who thought, who were practical. She needed more people like that in her corner. And your physical appearance? 

 

…well, she certainly didn’t find it hard on the eyes. 

 

She cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice steady. “Thank you, my friend. Your praise means a lot to me.” 

 

Your eyes widened just a little at ‘friend’, but you didn’t deny it. However, somewhere during the conversation you did get much closer together, knuckles brushing just a little against hers as you walked. She felt the sudden urge to just take your hand in hers. Would you let her? Would you pull away? This new trust between you was a fragile thing, soft in her hands. The last thing she wanted was to shatter it with one wrong graze of the fingertip. Still, she wanted to know more, so she asked her next question. 

 

“Well, I don’t want to keep you for long. You must have someone waiting for you at home, yes?” She let her gaze drop to your hands. No ring on your finger. 

 

You looked at her, blinking in surprise. “At home? No.” 

 

“Really? I find that hard to believe.” She honestly didn’t know what was possessing her. All she knew was that her voice was dropping an octave, and her hand was brushing against yours with purpose now. “No wife? No husband?” 

 

“None of that.” You shook your head. “Whatever gave you that impression?” 

 

“Ah… sorry for overstepping. I just assumed someone like you would surely already be taken.” 

 

“Someone like me?” 

 

“Well…” She felt as if she were digging her own grave all of a sudden. But she was too far in to stop. “You are very succesful, polite, and smart… how could I not think so?” 

 

“So are you, you know.” 

 

“I see.” 

 

Silence passed over you for a moment. Her steps were slow now, as if she didn’t want to see you go. She could feel your gaze on her, on her hair, her face, her hands… it sent another one of tjose shivers through her. 

 

“…is something wrong?” 

 

You coughed, shaking your head and looking away. “Not at all. I’ve just… been thinking, miss.” 

 

“Thinking?” 

 

“Yes. About this… new alliance of ours.” 

 

“Oh?” She perked up, back straightening. 

 

“I know we haven’t exactly gotten off on the right foot.” You sighed. It was an understatement, but she’ll let it slide. “I apologize for insulting your hospitality, for harbouring such… mistrust towards you. Perhaps I can make it up to you?” 

 

She raised her brows, stopping in her tracks and turning to face you. “Make it up to me? Oh, you know that won’t be necessary…” 

 

“No, I want to.” You smiled, and for a moment, she could’ve sworn you even looked nervous . “Perhaps with my own hospitality? A dinner?” 

 

She felt this sort of rush of excitement through her at your words, and she instinctively leaned in, just a little. Enough to be able to see features of you she were previously unaware of, tracing every groove and ridge of your face. “Oh, That would be lovely.” 

 

Your eyes met hers, and you were suddenly close. Too close. She saw the way your lips twitched st the corners, the way your fingers curled into your palm. Your hand brushed against hers again, and this time, she took it without even thinking. 

 

Those eyes of yours went wide, and blood rushed to her cheeks. This was foolish. Oh, this was incredibly foolish. But something within her couldn’t pull away. After all, she was too far in to commit. 

 

“Are you…?” You trailed off, voice much hoarser than before. 

 

“Sorry… perhaps you can stay for a little longer?” Her hand wrapped tightly around yours in a silent plea. “I… quite enjoy your company. And it is so terribly slow today.” 

 

You considered this for a long, agonizing moment, searching her face for any sign of what she meant. She knew she must be confusing you, she knew she was definitely overstepping the professional boundary you had. But this… she wanted this more than she wanted to run. Then, your hand squeezed hers.

 

“I dislike those who skirt around their true intentions.” You spoke slowly, in a slightly accusatory tone. “What do you want of me?” 

 

“Truly, I just want your company. As much of you as you’re willing to give me.” 

 

“As much as I’m willing to give, hm…?” Your eyes fell from hers, down to her lips. A thrill ran through her. “And what if that turns out to be more than you were expecting?” 

 

“Then I’d gladly welcome it.” 

 

Then, something she never would’ve imagined transpired. You laughed, and instead of that practiced, hiding laugh, it sounded genuine. It sounded unmasked. You were amused, you were happy… oh, what a feeling, to be the cause of your joy. 

 

“Do you typically… flirt with your business partners?” 

 

“Flirting? Is that what you think I’m doing?” 

 

“Apologies, have I misread this? Because from my perspective, a pretty woman is telling me to stay, and taking my hand…” 

 

She swallowed, face heating up even more at the compliment. “Then, perhaps I am ‘flirting’. But believe me when I say it is not a common pastime of mine.” 

 

“So I am in some way special?” 

 

“Yes. Yes, you are.” She smiled softly, watching your face relax under her words. 

 

“Well, in that case…” Your free hand slowly came up, brushing against her cheek. “I welcome any business alliance, no matter what form that relationship takes in the meeting room.” 

 

“What about in the hallway?” 

 

You froze. She laughed, leaning into the touch of your hand until you were fully cupping her face. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’re alone here?” 

 

“Miss… are you coming onto me?” 

 

Part of her wanted to tell you to drop the ‘miss’. But she couldn’t deny it sounded rather endearing when coming from you, so she let it slide for now. “And if I was…?” 

 

You grinned, leaning in so close she felt your breath fanning her lips. “I’d ask you how confident you are we won’t be caught here.” 

 

She felt another one of those thrills run through her. There was something certainly enticing about doing something you shouldn’t be, and, oh, it’s been far too long since she felt a loving touch. “If you’re scared, perhaps we can take this to my private chambers?” 

 

“That is a perfectly acceptable solution.” You stepped back giving her a little bow. “Lead the way, miss.” 

 

She did so rather quickly, eager to get away from any prying eyes that may be lurking around the corner. The moment you got into her room, your arms were around her, walking her slowly back until her knees hit the bed. It all happened so fast she barely had time to process it, and before she knew it, her hand was on your collar, dragging you into a kiss.

 

That little groan you let out into her lips sent heat shooting through her body, pooling between her legs. She didn’t know what she expected. Something slow? A simple kiss and then you leaving? Not this. Not this hungry, intense dance between you. Her back hit the bed, and your knee came between her thighs. She gasped as it rubbed up against her through the bunched-up fabric of her dress. You pulled apart from the kiss, and what she saw made her heart stop. 

 

Lipstick. Hers. Smeared across your lips, drawn over your skin. You were panting, eyes half lidded and shadowed in the dim light filtering in through the curtains. She raised a hand, cupping your cheek. You immediately, almost instinctually, leaned into it, letting those hooded eyes flutter shut. She kissed your other cheek, leaving another, dimmer lipstick mark on it. 

 

That brief, tender reprieve ended quickly. Soon, your knee was pressing into her through the fabric, and you kissed her palm before trailing your lips down her wrist, a genle bite to the vein tracing just under where her hand ended. She rocked against that knee in slow rolls of her hips, head falling back. It gave you perfect access to bring your lips down to her neck, teeth ghosting over her windpipe as you kissed and nipped at the skin of her throat. 

 

“Don’t leave any marks.” She whispered, arms looping around your neck. 

 

“Of course… of course…” you moved carefully, pressing an impossibly soft kiss to her shoulder, her clothing slipped down to reveal more skin. Then, you moved your hands under her, on the small of her slightly-arched back, bringing her up to sit. You kissed down her neck as you slowly undid her corset, taking your time with the tight string and letting it fall to the floor. She helped you take down the rest of her clothing piece by piece, until she was completely bare before you. You pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then sunk to your knees in front of her. 

 

She let her eyes fall shut as your lips traced up her leg, your hands coming up to shift her thighs further apart. She placed them on your shoulders, squeezing into the sides of your head in hopes of encouraging you to stop stalling , for more . You looked up at her, as if looking for reassurance, for permission? She gave it with a nod of her head, a little grin on her face. 

 

Then, your mouth was on her. You wasted no more time, tongue dragging up against her core, over her clit with each lazy roll. She sighed, falling into this gentle, quiet rhythm. She rocked her hips into your face, your tongue finally pressing flat against her clit, swirling around it before wrapping your lips around it and sucking. Her breath stuttered as she fell back onto the covers, fingers curling into the sheets with one hand as the other came up to play with her chest, pinching and pulling at her nipples while you began to speed up your pace. 

 

In her foggy mind, she could barely even process the fact that you used to be enemies, that at one point, she dreaded the thought of meeting you. Is this what she’d been missing? Could she have had you like this, between her legs, sending waves of bliss through her body sooner? If this was the reward for gaining your favour, she would do it a thousand times over, again and again, in any lifetime or way you chose to present yourself to her. Your trailed your hand up her leg until you were able to use it in conjunction with your tongue. God, she was so damn wet two of your fingers slid in with absolutely no resistance. You curled them up just right, each rock of your hand grinding against that perfect spot inside her. 

 

She was getting close. Oh, you’d barely started and she was already so damn close. She didn’t bother to beg for more, or scream in pleasure. She only let out a satisfied little breath as she let it happen. It was no intense flash, no burn of fire through her veins. It was as if she was washed over with water on a hot day— a cool roll of relief through her. She shivered and went limp, letting you kiss the side of her thigh before you took her legs off your shoulders and slowly stood.

 

If she thought you looked beautiful before, this was something else entirely. She was sure the lipstick she left on you was also smeared over her neck and thighs now, but she didn’t exactly mind. You raised those two fingers to your lips, slipping them inside your mouth, tasting her even deeper than before. She couldn’t help the rush that went through her at the sight, she… 

 

Suddenly she wanted it all over again. 

 

She grabbed your collar again, yanking you down into a kiss. You let out a muffled, surprised moan at the sudden intensity. The night was young, and with the sun setting outside, there wouldn’t be a soul to bother you while she went through with these new plans filling her mind.