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#yandere genshin impact smut
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Yan!Genshin men and baby fever (extended)
Part 2 to this because you motherfuckers are horny and liked it too much. Seriously, that post has over 5K notes on it, which is insane, considering how few notes I usually get in comparison.
WARNING! This post contains NSFW content!
Minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! Any and all rulebreakers will be blocked!
CW: Yandere content, GN!Reader (pretend this is a universe where anyone can get pregnant, regardless of anatomy), baby trapping, dubcon at best, manipulation, lying, malicious/weaponised incompetence, drugging, somnophilia mention in Diluc's part
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Aether (could be read as either Traveller or Abyss Prince)
Family is really important to him, so why shouldn't he want to create one of his own?
He already has you, and his sister can be that cool aunt who everyone likes.
So when he's made up his mind, nothing will stand in his way.
He makes sure to cum inside multible times.
He'll repeat this process the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, etc.
Whatever it takes to make his dream come true.
Albedo
Do I even need to explain this one? He is literally studying the creation of life. I would be surprised if he didn't have an underlying breeding kink.
But then comes the problem that he is infertile, intentionally so when Rhinedottir made him. Because if you're going to create a crime against nature and then abandon it, you should at least make sure that it can't multiply and make more crimes against nature.
But by god, he will find a workaround. He'll work tirelessly to find a way to get what he wants.
Until then, he will build up your trust every time you two fuck raw, so you won't even think twice when he releases inside of you. He's done so before, so why question him on why he has this satisfied look in his eyes, or why he's suddenly so gentle with you even days after?
Just don't think too hard about why this weird taste lingers in his mouth. "Just a new experiment," he reassures you. "Something that is meant to fix certain unwanted imperfections within oneself."
Ayato
Ayato has always felt the pressure to keep the bloodline going.
As head of the clan, it was always expected that he would one day have children.
Many would find this tiresome and only do it out of obligation, but not Ayato.
He has wanted this ever since he met you.
And he does not make this a secret. Any opportunity he gets (when he isn't away on official business), he brings up the topic of children. He does it more subtly at the beginning, hoping that you'll catch on quickly and maybe even approach him with the subject.
But your 'stubborn refusal' is getting on his nerves.
But Ayato has a plan.
Ayato always has a plan.
He tells you that he's being pressured into having kids by the other Commissoners, about how he doesn't like this just as much as you, but his hand is being forced by outside factors.
Lying ass motherfucker.
Given his eagerness during the act, you should be able to pick up the clues, but given how he's basically fucked the life out of you, you don't seem to notice how his words and actions do not match up.
Childe
Childe begs you for children basically every day, just like any other sign of affection.
Thing is that he's a turbo virgin. He does not know shit about sex (he just like me fr fr. Seriously, I have so much respect for authors who go into more 'obscure' and 'odd' fetish porn in their work. You are doing the world a service).
All he knows is the barebones, heavily sanitised and censored version of sex ed his mother gave him when he was like 12.
In his defence, he has picked up some stuff from the things he's heard from the lower ranking Fatui when they were talking about their 'exploits,' so it's not like he's completely clueless.
But he's still innocent enough that you fall for his perceived incompetence when he 'accidentally' cums inside.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Darling. I just couldn't control myself." He apologises. "I promise I'll fix this."
And wouldn't you know it, it seems that every pharmacy you go to is completely out of anti-pregnancy herbs and medicines. Have been for some time and they have no idea when they'll get more.
Cyno
At first glance, it might not seem in character for him to be a family man. And, well, you're not exactly wrong. Before meeting you, he had no real desire for a family of his own.
He recalled that quite a few of his former classmates already had children and now that he looked at your relationship, it felt like there was something he was missing. When he went to check on Collei and Tighnari, it all became clear to him.
Suddenly all he could think about was knocking you up. It occupied every corner of his mind, and the thought of your round stomach has his lower abdomen on fire.
In the past when he had his way with you, he always made sure to at least use protection, but now, with his new desires, he decides to do something about it.
So using a thin needle, he pokes holes into the condom before you could notice.
Condoms break sometimes, so he can always use that as an excuse.
Diluc
Just like Ayato, Diluc has grown up wanting a family and was raised with such thoughts in mind.
Though with the death of his father, his childhood plans of 1) find lover, 2) get married, 3) ???, 4) happy family had to be put on hold.
But now that he has you, he has already completed steps 1 and 2. Now only 3 and 4 stand in his way.
And step 3 is the most difficult by far.
If you're adverse to the idea of children, he might just slip something into your drink and do the deed while you're deep asleep.
Should you notice the early signs of pregnancy, he'll say that you agreed to it.
After all, Diluc is a gentleman and a man of his word. How could he leave your wants and desires unfulfilled?
Kazuha
Yet another member of the "bloodline must continue" club.
Unfortunately for Kazuha, because his family has passed and the Kaedehara name has fallen by the wayside, he doesn't really have the same kind of leverage to use against you.
And it would be pretty hard to keep traveling the world with a pregnant partner.
So he settles down with you somewhere for a little while while he makes "preparations" for your foreseeable future.
And well, since you two have so much free time now, why don't you "get to know each other" like most normal couples do?
You can't really blame him for putting his hands on you when he's drunk, can you? Drunk Kazuha is an idiot, he's not in control of his actions.
Except when drunk, Kazuha just drops his inhibitions and later blames it on something else.
Scaramouche/Wanderer
He has always liked kids and for some reason, they've liked him more.
You honestly don't know what they see in him.
Maybe his height makes him more relatable? Or his personality is worth teasing him for? Or maybe it was because the kids learn new and inventive curses from him (ones that even you had no idea about).
So him coming to you and basically demanding children wasn't that big of a surprise.
Tbh I don't know how this would work because, logically, he wouldn't even have a dick, but whatever.
Just like Ayato, he basically fucks you to oblivion so you don't even notice that he cums inside.
Tighnari
It happens during one of his yearly ruts.
This time around, due to his recent thoughts of actually wanting a family, his rut is hitting him extra hard.
Normally he doesn't want you around too much during this time, because you'll only make things worse for him, but this time throws caution to the wind.
His rut can't exactly get any worse than it already is.
So he calls for your help and you begrudgingly comply.
TIghnari is usually not one to lie, so when he 'accidentally' manages to get you pregnant, you almost believe him when he says that he just 'lost control of himself' in the heat of the moment.
That said, he does value all life, so he begs you not to get rid of the baby/babies.
Venti
He already refers to the people of Mond as his children, so why not make more?
I imagine he's not at all subtle about his desires.
Mans will walk over to you after saying 'hi' and immediately ask to boink.
He would "invite" (by which I mean that he physically takes you with him) you out to have a drink.
To make sure things go according to plan (and you don't suspect anything), he drinks the same wine he spiked with aphrodisiacs before.
Once again, just like Kazuha, he blames him being drunk on the situation, but internally, he is savouring every moment you two spent together.
Zhongli
Having a family is what most mortals do, and Zhongli just wants to blend in with humans.
So it shouldn't be that big of a surprise when your 'beloved husband' came to you to talk about having children.
Another one who uses drugs to get his way.
Though with him, it's also partially to help soothe your body after the act due to him being rough, as well as bigger than most.
Good luck finding some sort of plan B medicine that's strong enough to get rid of Archon babies.
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diejager · 1 year
Note
Hello, may I please ask for 10 in you 1k event with nsfw yan Diluc please, aslo congrats!
1k special [2/10]
1k special masterlist
Cw: smut, creampie, implied sex marathon, DARK, yandere, blood, marking, possessive, sadism, BDSM, NON-CON, DUB-CON.
Wc: 662
HI! Thank you!! <33
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# 10 " You're so cute,"
Bound and gagged, your cries fell on deaf ears when faced with Diluc, the workers never bothered you, they never entered the room unless you were dressed and with Diluc, they never tried freeing you, and they never stopped fearing for their safety under Diluc's iron-like hold on the region and Teyvat. A rich businessman with relations was the worse kind to garner their ire or obsession.
His hips moved at a steady pace, shallowly thrusting and taking his time to watch you squirm and take him whole; red, swollen folds rubbing around his thick length, leaking the combined juices of your orgasms. His narrowed eyes burned darkly with unbridled lust as they moved from your ankles locked around his hips to your soaked mound, over your navel, stomach, and chest covered in purple and red bites and kisses, and from your tear-stricken face and puffy eyes to your bound hands gripping the mahogany headboard. He was entranced by your appearance, a wreck and bumbling mess of tears and moans made by his hand. It made him harder, his cock twitching and promising another load. Pain and pleasure came as one, one couldn't exist without the other and it appealed to his sadistic side, it appealed to it too much.
His hands felt everything he could, all the skin that stayed unmarred by his teeth and fingers, he wanted to bite into the fatty part of your thighs, leave them red and bloodied until he lapped it up, he wanted to paint your hips black and blue with his hands, leave them pained and sore for the coming days.
Thoughts drowned by pleasure (and your cries), he jerked wildly, pace erratic with loud panting as he peppered your neck and collar with wet kisses. His pounding went from short and shallow to deep and rough, he loved hearing your muffled squealing and whiny cries. He found it simply adorable.
"You're so cute, " Diluc cooed, breathing heavily into your ears. "Calmer and more pliant when I fuck you, hmm?"
Your mind reeled in disgust, conscience praying for it to stop, telling your body to stop reacting so disgracefully. You wanted your body to stop betraying you, to stop turning into a puddle of sweat and cum in Diluc's hand he could tell you all about him much your body loved it, that you loved him and were simply in denial; but you knew, you knew that your body only reacted to stimuli, that you hadn't really wanted him, your body simply reacted to what it was given.
Your body jerked and jolted when the leaky of his raging erection slammed into your cervix, alternating between pounding into your cervix and your sweet spot. Your body reacted to his foreplay because he knew where to touch, what to rub and roll, he did things while having you bound.
"I'm going to come," he groaned, mind numb with delight at the image of you plump and bred with his child.
He licked your neck, drawing a line of saliva from your collar to your jaw, lips patting to swallow your drool and kiss the side of your mouth. He cursed, hips rocking erratically, dick twitching before he ground deeper into you and came. The warmth that filled you brought a sickly feeling, ropes of cum covering your walls and clinging to every part of your cunt. You almost shuddered as he rutted against you, pushing his release deeper. You would've puked if you weren't gagged, bound, or here at all.
The most damning thing about this was the words he mumbled after he came, the soft promise he told you in an innocent tone:
"I love you."
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@kitto-lover @stygianoir @emperatris-rinaka @jalepp
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zxphy · 1 year
Note
Okayy so you wanted some ideas, right? I saw your incel! Scaramouche post and I was wondering what your thoughts are on a yandere incel! Xiao? It's a popular idea but I really love it and maybe you could write it for Fem! Reader or Gn! Reader if you don't write fem! Readers
☆ No bitches?
Yandere! Incel! Xiao x Fem! Reader
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Tws/cws: Xiao, misogyny, women beating, domestic abuse, use of the word "retard", implied noncon, fem aligned reader lmfao, gaslighting, doxxing, rape and murder threats, and non consensual groping. Multiple spelling mistakes are present. Both you and Xiao are 18.
Smut written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable.
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Xiao was your best friend since childhood, but as you both got older into adult hood, he started acting different.
A lot more grabby and forceful. He was unable to get a girlfriend or get laid, so he went to reddit and 4chan to vent his frustrstions, there he met lots of people just like him.
He may or may not have asked them "why do women not like me", getting multiple misogynistic replies. Bro was easily manipulated then turned into a self proclaimed "incel" in about a month. He believed everything his new group of friends said.
He always talked about his discord servers and his gross friends to you, saying how they give him the best advice and their misogynistic views about how women should know their place and yada yada.
You started to hang out with him less and less, as Xiao grew incredibly insufferable. Just being near him made you uncomfortable, you were scared of even being in the same room as him.
Even though you hardly talked to him, yiu still interacted online because hey! He's been your best friend since birth you don't have the heart to end the friendship.. :(
The less time you spent with Xiao, the more time you spent with Aether, one of his best friends. Xiao obviously took notice of thst, and his huge crush on you did NOT help.
Xiao considered himself a nice guy, thinking he deserved sex from "females". Complaining that girls only want Chads who just use them for their body and leave, as if incels aren't the same thing but worse.
You wanted to help him you know.. NOT have that mindset, but his stupid 4chan friends kept encouraging his disgusting way of thinking!! :(
At sometime, Xiao eventually confessed his love for you. But honestly, you kind of expected that to happen considering you were the only chick that even looked in his direction, let alone talked to him. You let him down as lightly as you can, trying not to set him off. Cause from what you heard, self proclaimed incels usually never take "no" for an answer and take every rejection personally.
"I'm sorry Xiao, it's not you.. it's me." Oh it's definately him.
"But I'm a nice guy! I'll treat you well and get everything you want. I have a job, I can spoil you!" Ah. That would make sense as to where he gets all the money to blow on hentai from.
"I just don't have any feelings for you besides platonic ones. I'm sorry and I hope this doesn't ruin our friendship." You begin to sweat, praying you didn't set him off.
Xiao looked down to the ground at his feet and sighed. "I understand." You sigh in relief, until Xiao says this,
"Can I at least have a hug?" Oh fuck.
You begin to sweat more and nodded slowly, "S-sure man.." you open your arms out for a hug and Xiao embraces you tightly, good fucking god he smells disgusting. When was the last time he showered?? It should be common knowledge that axe body isn't a substitution for showers. The scents clash in a way that make your nose hairs burn and your toes curl. It took everything out of you to not gag.
But on the other hand, Xiao was in heaven, you smell so good! His face is in your hair and he takes a big whiff and he shudders, obviously enjoying himself. It's been forever since he's been so close to a girl, let alone YOU.
His hands slowly trail down from your back and get lower, eventually he had his hands on your ass and gave it a a light squeeze. You push him away and laugh nervously and wave him good bye, leaving him by yourself.
Days go by and you started getting mysterious phone calls, text messages and messages on your social media from anonymous people. Majority of them being death and rape threats.
Anonymous672
U stupid bitch why did u leave him to go fuck his best friend??
And another,
(777-777-777)
Im gonna rape u then kill u in an alleyway u deserve it stupid whore.
And another,
Anonymous929
I know your address.
And another...
Anonymous476
Get ready to get raped!
And... another.
(555-555-555)
He's gonna put you in your place, whore.
One time you even got a phone call and it qqs just a guy heavily breathing into the phone then threatening to rape you and then bury your body in the woods for "rejecting a perfectly nice guy."
At that point it was kind of obvious as to why you're getting such threats. Either Xiao has been using alt accounts and throwaway numbers or he had doxxed you to his other "nice guy" friends. You were honestly pissed, was he THAT butthurt because you didn't want to have sex with him? He needs to get a fucking life. Xiao used to be an amazing guy, your best friend, but now his stupid "nice guy" phase tore you both apart. You thought the rejection went well, that he'd be normal about it, but then he goes doxxing a girl because she didn't want to have sex with him? What the fuck?
You pulled your phone out of your pocket and started looking for Xiao's number, you hit him a message.
(You)
Xiao. Read 1:44pm.
(You)
XIAO. Read 1:57pm.
(You)
XIAO ANSWER ME, FUCKWAD. Read 2:00pm.
I know what you did. Read 2:00pm.
(Weird Fuck)
??
(You)
Xiao did you fucking doxx me?? Are you retarded? What the fuck is wrong with you, people keep threatening to rape and kill me you fucking ass wipe. Read 2:01pm.
(Weird Fuck)
Im sorry just meet me at my place
(You)
What?? No dawg, I'm not gonna go to your fucking house, I wanna know why you fucking doxxed me, we were literally best friends before you became a fucking misogynist. Why did you doxx me?? Read 2:02pm.
(Weird Fuck)
Come over and ill tell u
(You)
Kys. Read 2:02pm.
You shoved your phone back in your pocket and you huffed. Who does that fucker think he is?? All because you wouldn't date him!!
You being you, you still went to his home to get answers. He didn't deny doxxing you which ulset you even more. His dick probs got hard just by you texting him. (He did :3) You're sick of sll the threats, you just want it to stop. You just want Xiao to stop his bitchless behaviour. Now you're gonna do something about it.
-------------------------------------------------------
You walk up to the lavish home and knocked on the door. Of course Xiao still lives with his dad instead of doing something productive like going to colledge like his twin sister Ganyu. You folded your arms and waited. You assumed that Mr. Zhongli wasn't home because you heard some random porn game from the third story window, Xiao's room.
You knocked again, but this time louder. You heard the game pause, then a door slamming, then rapid footsteps going down stairs. You hesrd a voice from behind the door.
"Are you the delivery guy?" *Xiao.*
"No fuckwad." You replied back. The door slowly swung open, revealing Xiao. He looked a lot more gross than you remember, he looked incredibly dishevled, with messy greasy hair, a random tshirt with very suspcious stains and dandruff on it, baggy gray sweatpants that aldo had a suspcious stain, but this time on the crotch area, and a pair of perscription glasses, the frame kind of similar to yours. But what you really could not get over, was the smell. He smelled like he hasn't showered in months, he smells entirely of spoilt food, semen, body odor and sweat. Disgusting.
"You look and smell like shit." You push past Xiao and walk into the lovely home.
"You came." He mumbled.
Of course you came, you wanted to know why the fuck he'd doxx you. He grossed you out comepletely, he was a digusting good for nothing freak. Xiao was actually a nice guy, he got good grades, was super sweet to everyone and made his father proud.
Xiao avoided eye contact and told you to follow him to his room, so you both could talk. You shook your head, feeling uneasy.
"Mr. Zhongli isn't home, why not talk here?" He ignored your question and walked up the stairs. You followed behind but kept a reasonable distance. Reasonable being several feet.
Xiao opened his bedroom door and you were immedately met with a horrible stench, his room smelled like him but worse. It smelt like semen, piss and shame. His room was covered in hentai posters and anime girl figurines, his clothes thrown all over the floor, and in the corner there was a really expensive looking gaming set up.
He could afford a multi-monitor gaming set up but not deoderant?
What couldn't go unnoticed was the collection of stiff socks gathering in a pile near his bed.
"Xiao what the hell? Your room is a fucking biohazard, feels like I need a gas mask and a hazmat suit just to be in here." You felt sorry for his father, you couldn't imagkne what it feels like having a son just like Xiao.
You walked into the room, being careful of wjere you step, Xiao sits in his gaming chair and then types a message into his Discord chat. He then got back up and cleared a space on his bed, throwing whatever was previously there onto the floor. "You can uh.. sit there."
You shook your head, but then you looked back at Xiao and he looked like he was about to cry. You felt bad so you sat anyway. You're definately burning this skirt when you get home.
You got a proper look around the room, not only seeing the weird posters, but pictures of you.
.
.
.
Creepy...
Xiao sat in his gaming chair and swung side to side, he looked nervous. Sweating as he looked at you.
You finally spoke up breaking the awkward silence. "So Xiao, why did fuck did you doxx me?" Xiao stayed silent and looked away from you. This really set you off. "Don't ignore me you asswipe! I've been getting threats of violent rape, I home you know you committed a cyber crime!"
"Relax, (Name.)" Xiao said still not looking at you. "It's not that serious." You scoffed and felt yourself getting more mad.
"Not that serious? NOT THAT SERIOUS?? Xiao! For the love of fucking christ, people are threatening to kill me! Why would you doxx me?!" You raised your voice at him, and you saw him get more nervous.
"Well.. I-I don't know I just. Me and you were like really close, but then you started fucking Aether.." You huffed, even more angry than before, "God fucking damnit Xiao! I'm trying to not fucking strangle you, but you're making it so hard!" You stood up and continued yelling, "You were so cool until you started acting like this! Kf course women won't like you if you keep thinking that she's gonna hop on your gross cock, Xiao! No one wants your tiny penis, I can assure that!"
You folded your arms and contued, "Sorry you feel so offended because I feel SAFE around Aether! He doesn't talk about how women's only purpose is to have kids and serve her mans or whatever, unlike YOU!"
Xiao fumbled with the draw strings on his sweatpants, "I-I don't know I uh just thought that you'd like me I g-guess.."
You face palmed. "Xiao. You doxxed me because I didn't want to date you? Dude! I explicitly told you that I have zero attraction to you. I only have PLATONIC feelings for you man. We had a good friendship but your gross ways ruined it-"
Xiao interupted you, "I'm a nice guy (Name), I'll treat you right. You're not like other females.."
"Oh my fucking god, Xiao..." you pinched the bridge of your nose. "I cannot believe that you think any girl would want to date YOU! A gross, disgusting people of shit incel like you! You're retarded if you think any girl would want your gross penis inside of her!"
Xiao stood up, "Fuck you (Name)!" You staggered back, surpised of his sudden outburst.
"Females like yourself are the problem. All you do is fuck chads and leave actjal nice sigmas in the dust!"
You blinked before letting out a laugh. "PFFTT!!! Dawg! Fuck this shit for real, and you know what? I'ma go to Aether's place to fuck him! How doed thst make you feel, Xiao? You gonna cry??" You flicked him off before getting up, walking to leave the room.
Suddenly your arm gets grabbed and you're pulled back, thrown onto the floor. Xiao gets on top of you and punches you square in the nose. You let out a loud squeal of pain.
"Xiao what the fu-" Xiao picks you up from under your arms and puts on on his bed, he starts feeling up your body, his hands trailing up yojr skirt, fumbling with the hem of your safety shorts.
You kicked him in the stomach and punched him in his face, Xiao staggered back and held his stomach as his glassed fell off his face, you took the chance and pushed him off you and ran.
Unfortunately for you, you tripped on the wires spewn about his room and you fell, Xiao took this opportunity and turned you around and kicked you until you stopped fighting. As an extra measure, Xiao grabbed your head, lifted it slightly then slammed it back down into the floor. You gripped your head in pain and whined.
"Xiao? What the fuck.." you wince. Xiao once again picks you up, and drops you onto his head, his hands trailing up your skirt. He lifts it slightly and pull down your safety shorts revealing your panties. His obvious erection poking through his sweatpants. Xiao went back to his gaming chair and once again started typing on his discord server, before getting up and locking his bedroom door. Too busy holding onto your head and lightly crying in pain, you had not noticed that he actually did lock the door.
The teen walked back over to you, took your shoes off and peeked off your safety shorts. He got close to you and whispered into your ear, "How does it feel to be put in your place?" He slapped you playfully.
Xiao shoved down his pants, his hard cock springing out. He hasn't shaved in a while, revealing curly black n green pubes covering his pelvic area. The tears that were threatening to fall, have fell, hot tears flowing down your cheeks hoping that Xiao isn't gonna do what you think he's gonna do.
"Xiao please. Don't do this.." You looked up at him in fear. Xiao ignored you and pulled off your panties, revealing your pussy. He threw them into a random direction. He pressed himself against you.
You're struggling to process what the fuck is going on, you're being held down, Xiao's dick is rubbing against you and half your clothes are missing.
Xiao then tore off your tshirt and threw the shreds in another random direction, then took off your bra, groping your chest the second he saw your tits.
"You're so fucking pretty.. and you're all mine." Xiao took his fingers and spread apart your lips, revealing your lovely pink insides. Xiao shoved two of his fingers inside of you just to test and you yelped.
"Fuck yeah, you're tight as balls." Xiao removed his fingers and quickly replaced his fingers with his thick cock.
He then slammed inside of you, putting his hands around your neck.
You're his now.
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ANDDD.. DONE! I'M SO GLAD I HAD THE MOTIVATION TO WRITE THIS..
I honestly think I got a little too into it, anyway I hope you guys enjoy! :3
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@mistywaves98
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exchangestudentnova · 9 months
Text
Veluriyam Mirage
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Features: Yandere! Kaeya Alberich and KoF Knight! Willing! Afab! Reader
Content: NSFW/smut, initially dubcon, praise kink, slight breath play, slight bondage, slight knife kink, voice kink
Term of endearment used for the reader: Dear, pretty girl, sweet thing
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"Will you go with me? Mom told me to invite my friends as well!" The way Klee came up to you to join her to visit a domain was so cute! She said she's going to meet a friend of her mom's, but all the way to Sumeru? The thought made you a bit concerned about her safety, so you decided to join her. Then again who are you to say no to a bit of a relax time?
So now you're here in this place called the Bottleland along with Ms. Eula, Klee, The Honorary Knight and Sir Kaeya. Or just Kaeya as he instructed you to call him so. There were other people as well an Inazuman war general and a Sumeru's forest ranger trainee.
But your eyes couldn't help but fall on the Cavalry Captain. You have such a big crush on him ever since the day you saw him on the opening ceremony inviting the new Knights in the Knights of Favonius. He's well loved by almost everyone in Mondstadt so it's no surprise you feel a bit flustered by his presence as well.
The Mascot, or the caretaker called Idiya asked for everyone's help in fixing the Bottleland back to how it was normally, by collecting all the parts to restore the main mechanism. It was a long but fun journey as you were getting along with everyone and at last! the domain was restored!
"Please enjoy your stay in Bottleland" Idiya announced.
Klee left with the Honorary Knight and Kokomi while Eula and Collei went for some dance sessions. Which left you and Kaeya together. "Are you free at the moment?" his silky smooth sound vibrates in your ears like a melody. "N-no I'm not. Why do you ask?" "If you're free then I'll like you to come with me"
Kaeya takes you to a huge, colourful pavilion that you remember visiting before as here you found Eula's relative. "We're here again?" you question as Kaeya ushers you inside.
It was dimly lit as compared to before, with only the light at the top illuminating the entire space. You walk up to the center of the stage as Kaeya followed you. With a tap on your shoulder, you turn around to ask-
*mh*
Kaeya takes your lips and seals them with his in a fiery kiss. You stumble back, not expecting him to start such an action. He secures you with a firm hand on your waist, while he pushes stray hair from your face with the other. The two of you only part when the dizziness from the lack of oxygen hit you. "Kaeya what is the meaning of this?" "Oh don't look at me like that. Did you really think I won't notice the way you eye me up and down? They way you bit your lip when you think I'm not looking? The way you get wet when I speak- he leans down, breath hitting your ears- this close to you?"
You open your mouth to speak but one of his hands already starts cupping your underwear, while the other wraps around your neck, putting pressure enough to decrease the oxygen going in your brain. "Now you'll only talk when I tell you to talk okay pretty girl?" you barely manage a nod as he pushes your underwear aside, collecting your arousal in the tip of his finger running along your slit. He licks his finger while his eyes close in appreciation of your taste.
He pushes you from your neck, forcing you to move backwards. Soon your back hits a slender pillar, most likely used as a prop. The hand around your neck lowers you on your knees, sliding your back on the wooden pillar.
"Won't you undress for me pretty girl?"
You quickly remove your clothing, leaving youself in your underwear.
"Wait here" he instructs as he vanishes in the darkness.
He returns with a decorative ribbon. "Your wrist sweet thing". He ties both your wrists togther behind the pillar, now you cannot escape at all.
He steps back, biting his lips at the beauty in front of him, looking cute tied up at his mercy.
He removes the dragger from his back, running the blunt side along your collarbone, your abdomen and your inner thighs. You hiss at the contact with the cool metal, the sensation heating up your body more amd more. Finally he turns to the sharp side, cutting your underwear, leaving you exposed. Your breasts release with a bounce, rushing all of Kaeya's blood in his pants. He cirlcles your nipples with the blunt edge of the dragger, eventually tossing it aside and taking them in his mouth, one by one. You squirm from the texture of his wet tongue, his hands undoing his pant.
"Is it okay for us to do it here?" You ask hesitantly. Kaeya looks at you with his lust filled eyes. "Of course sweet thing, it's the perfect place I say. No one is here to listen to your moans and scream, so be as loud as you want hm?" He's now rubbing his cock up and down your pussy, arousal gathering at the tip. He pushes it in, your mouth letting out a small squeak in answer.
Once he's fully in, his hips move at a steady speed, hands grabbing your waist tightly and your tongues dancing to create a saliva bridge from his lips to yours. You lock your legs around his waist, a knot in your abdomen forming at a fast rate.
He speeds up, chasing his own release. His hand findd your clit and starts to rub it, sending extra waves of pleasure through your body.
"Gonna cum for me hm? Gonna be my good girl?" you can't even recognise your voice, running hoarse due to all the screaming "Yes I'm your good girl! Gonna cum.." you're almost there, just a little bit more..
"Cum then sweet thing"
His voice was just the thing you needed as your body starts to convulse, your orgasm comes in waves, his own just seconds after yours.
The two of you catch your breath, his forehead pressed against yours. He unties your wrists and helps you dress up. Both of you make your way out together, hand in hand, rushing to reach back quickly before someone comes looking for you two.
83 notes · View notes
dead-yandere · 1 year
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yandere thoma would definitely be a service verse/dom that man would make u cum til u cant move ur legs then do the dishes. no restraints needed.
26 notes · View notes
flokali · 7 months
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♢ I love you, I own you | Tartaglia
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warnings: yandere, dub-con, penetration, coming inside, unprotected, undertones of misogyny, toxic parents, manipulation and gaslighting, obsessive, paranoid, and possessive behavior, toxic mindset, coerced submission, getting walked into, bribing, murder, torture, self-doubt and insecurities (mc), arranged marriage, implied financial insecurity, implied virginity (mc & childe), spoilers for tartaglia’s story/lore, unhealthy coping mechanisms, unreliable narration (at times). ask to tag.
pairing: afab! fem! reader (bottom) x childe (top)
word count: 13.3k
a/n: ahhh; hopefully this is good >_< i love him so much… after almost a year, ‘tis done ^_^
part two: here
— 18+
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Childe is horrified and incredibly angered, if not down right homicidal, when he finds out your parents planned to have you engaged to a no-name Fatui henchman, it’s only a further blow to his already weakened heart when the news don’t come from you nor your family but from the loud mouths of your “soon to be fiancé” and his goons. His blue eyes widen and he feels himself grow lightheaded, his stomach feels like it’s turning itself inside out and, oh Celestia, he thinks he’s going to puke.
While perhaps not the most befitting behavior for a Harbinger, Ajax couldn’t help but eavesdrop when he had first heard the mention of your name and while he’s extremely glad he did, - he’s silently thanking the Tsaritsa for telling him now so he could do something - he almost wishes he didn’t as he’s now forced to go back to his office and wordlessly deal with the intrusive thoughts racing through his head.
All he can think about are the countless pinky promises you’d both made to each other during your childhood, the coos of both of your parents when they had first heard him declare his love for you, the feeling of your hands against his when you kissed his cheek goodbye before the fateful day he stumbled down the abyss, the way you and only you were the sole thing keeping him together during his time there, the way you sobbed in relief when he first approached you after emerging victorious from hell itself; did those moments mean nothing? Had only he been impacted by them? Had you forgotten his love for you - your love for him?
No, he thought as he marched to his desk, there’s no way - you had to have felt it too, you must have kept those memories deep in your heart as did he. You both were meant to be, childhood sweethearts, one soul in two different bodies, created from the same stars and carved out from the same earth, put into the same world to meet and love each other from your first life to the last. You were his and he was yours, you were one and the same, you were lovers - it was written in the stars and in his very flesh, it was a fact as true as his love for you.
His breathing is ragged and he can’t contain his shaking body, he never should have trusted your parents - they obviously didn’t have your best interest in mind, if they cared about you at all they would have never promised your hand to another, they would’ve realized he, Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax, he was the best man for you.
Granted, they hadn’t heard from good little Ajax for years, not ever since he’d left for the Fatui - he only ever kept consistent correspondence with you and his family - but that’s no excuse, there was no excuse for their actions, they were disgusting pests that were blinded by greed. How much money had they taken to accept such a disgusting agreement? 500,000 Mora? No, that was too cheap… 1,000,000? 2,000,000? More? Maybe it was in the tens of millions, there was no way you were being given away for less, right?
“Ahhh,” the ginger sank in his chair, his trembling hands finding his hair and pulling at the soft strands in frustration, “what do I do now? What should I do? What should I do? Shit… this can’t be happening.”
He wanted to cry and destroy everything. Destroy that man, no… that poor, pathetic excuse of a man that had dared try and stake his claim on you. This wasn’t your fault, there was no way you knew – never once in your letters had you mentioned a lover nor a wedding, you would have told him - would have begged for him to save you - if you did know you must have cried and begged for them to not marry you to that bastard, sobbed as you muttered his - Ajax’s - name like a mantra, begging to be taken by him and finally wed to the true love of your life.
It felt like the world was falling and crushing him alive.
How could they do this to you? How dare they do this to you? To him, to you, to the both of you.
He could just have the man killed, sent on a suicide mission disguised as an essential step for gnosis hunting - maybe even under the pretense of a promotion, he was sure he’d accept anything, he was a no name soldier that would probably be forgotten by the next round of recruitment -, and make your parents go bankrupt, burn their house and have their businesses fail before delivering the final blow of jailing them due to fraud or maybe even executed under claims of treason; the thoughts calmed his rapid heart, if only slightly.
They needed to be taught a lesson, they shouldn’t put their dirty, greedy hands where they didn’t belong.
But no, that’d be too light of a punishment, and there would be so many loose threads - he’d rather be on good terms with your family - if only for you -, could it maybe be a misunderstanding? It could be, right? They were like family to him once, after all, and a part of him hates the idea of them having grown so vile and corrupted, they were supposed to be his in-laws and he’d rather his children have both sets of grandparents. Not to mention, you’d be so sad to see them gone, even if there was a chance they were worth nothing more than dirt.
No, that wouldn’t do, his wife couldn’t be sad - he’d confront them as soon as physically possible, question their actions and propose a better arrangement, and depending on their answer they would become the Fatui’s latest show of loyalty to the Tsaritsa or officially join the perfect future he’d dreamed of with you.
Yes, that’s what he’d do, his shaking heart finally comes to a rest as he begins to plan his trip. If things went south he could easily have his initial plan executed quickly, and while he doesn’t particularly like the idea of having to plan their execution arrangements, justice wasn’t always pleasant.
It’d be alright, surely all of this could be resolved through a mature, adult conversation. And if not, then Childe wasn’t a Harbinger for naught.
It takes him a few days until he’s able to find the time to meet up with your parents, though, honestly, it’s more like barging into your home unannounced and demanding answers. He has a job - a serious job, after all, one that demands his presence and takes true effort and work, unlike that shitty excuse of meat your parents wanted you to marry - and he had matters to attend to – after all forging evidence for a possible execution isn’t easy and he wants to be prepared, it was one of the few times where he wanted to come in with a proper battle plan.
He had it all planned out if things went south, a few reports here, some testimonies there, a lengthy transcript or two, a handful of bank reports, and soon your parents would look like traitors to the crown and be sentenced to public execution.
All he had to do was confront them in person. He wasn’t sure if your parents would be home, he hoped so as to not prolong such a troublesome process any longer, but he was willing to wait. He was getting his answers today, one way or another; he’d free you from this horrid arrangement and whisk you away to give you the life you truly deserved.
Luckily for him, you live in the same neighborhood as you always had, so no time had to be wasted searching for your family’s whereabouts. It had been a long time since he’d had the chance to come back to his childhood neighborhood and he can’t help the giddiness in his heart as he strolls through memory lane while making his way down the streets you two shared a childhood in, it looked almost the same - a few differences here and there like a new house or someone’s place having been renovated, but it felt just like home. His parents had long since moved houses into a fancier side of the city, the money Childe managed to bring home as a Harbinger long since allowing them the luxuries that had once felt impossible, but he almost wishes they hadn’t as he spots your family’s humble abode, his heart longing back to the days of your shared youth.
It’s a two story house, built with strong wood made to resist Snezhnaya’s harshest winters and the cold summers, the roof was made of strong wood and designed so that snow would fall as to not sink, the front yard still held the swing you’d begged your parents for on your tenth birthday, the mailbox was still slightly crooked from the time he had head-butted it when racing you back from the park, the flowerbed still held the same flowers and plants that were able to withstand Snezhnaya’s harsh weather, the tree somehow still seemed to harbor the countless balls you two had gotten stuck there back when you were in your preteens; it was like it had been frozen in time, the only true difference he could spot was your older figure sitting on the front steps looking as if you were waiting for something, maybe someone; maybe him.
His heart stops as do his steps, he’d been so busy the last couple of years he hadn’t been able to pay you a visit in person, he’d had a few soldiers patrol the area before, but nothing could prepare Ajax for the surge of emotions that coursed through his body as he laid eyes on you.
Your body was taller and you had grown into your features, but you were still you - your eyes still shined with the hope and love he’d long since lost while your lips were still as tempting as he remembered. There was no doubt it was you, he’d recognize you anywhere; no matter how much you changed. But you looked sad, your lips downcast, your eyes filled with tears, and your frame hunched over, it was clear you were cold by the shaking of your frame but you didn’t falter - still sitting down with a flimsy blanket wrapped around you as you waited.
The scene made him pick up his pace, he was desperate to reach your side; what had happened? Why did you look so sad? Were you hurt? His men had not informed him of anything happening that would explain the crystal like tears that pooled in your eyes, just the sight was enough to have his blood boiling and fists shaking as he wondered who was responsible for the pain you so openly displayed.
Have you found out about Andrei and your parents’ sins? The thought of them being the reason for your sorrow made him grow dizzy with rage, but the negative feelings can only last so long as he has you in his sights. Your mere presence seemed to lull his emotional heart into a more tranquil state.
“[Y/N]?” Childe asked, he was only a few feet away from you but he didn’t dare walk closer, “Is that you?”
“A-Ajax?” Your eyes widened, hope evident in your voice and it’s like all traces of the previous pain in your face had vanished, “Oh, Ajax!”
You hesitate for a second before breaking into a smile when you realize it really was him. It almost looks like you want to burst into tears and he’s sure he probably doesn’t look any better, seeing you in the flesh after so long felt like a dream and as if every moment without you until now had been but a nightmare, he can’t help himself from running towards you and throwing himself into your arms. He looks older, definitely more mature, his is build stronger now - probably due to the fighting and training he endured as a Harbinger, you thought - but his smile was still the same, perhaps a bit empty but it still filled your heart with a warmth that could battle Snezhnaya’s unforgiving cold. It felt right to have him back in your arms as if time had never been cruel and taken him away from you, you could have sweared your worries disappeared the moment you took in his warmth.
His white coat floats through the air as he lands between your arms, and you can feel his smile in your chest as he hugs you tight.
He was finally home, he thought, in your arms and back in the neighborhood that had raised him - he was with you and that was all that mattered, the man was filled with so much ecstasy he could almost forget why he’d come here.
“What are you doing here?” You ask him, your voice is shaky and the ginger feels himself melt at the familiar tone of your voice.
“I should be asking you that,” he laughs, his eyebrows becoming furrowed in concern as he speaks, “it’s freezing, darling, you shouldn’t be outside.”
“I… I was waiting for one of your letters,” you whisper shyly, during your time away from each other - weekly letters had been your primary source of communication, something you’d learn to love and cherish as one of the few forms of contact you and Childe could have without your parents knowing his dangerous job and position.
“You’re so cute,” he coos, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders as he realizes you were safe, if anything he feels ashamed he hadn’t been able to send you anything and caused you such pain, his heart aches as he tries to wrap around his head he may have hurt your feelings, his gloved fingers find your cheek and squeezes it tightly, “however, it’s too cold for you to be outside with just a blanket, my love.”
“I know,” you shake your head, you go to lift a hand to wipe the stray tears that had escaped you but Childe takes care of it for you as he delicately caressed your face, “it’s just, I hadn’t heard from you in almost two weeks and I got worried, I thought… maybe something had happened in Liyue and you’d gotten hurt.”
“O-oh… I’m sorry,” his deep blue eyes look downcast as he processes your words, “I never meant to worry you, I had so much to do and to say that instead of a letter I decided to come meet you in person, i-isn’t that better, love? I simply couldn’t be away from you any longer, it’s my fault, though, I should have told you so earlier, ahh… I can’t believe I’ve made my angel cry.”
A poor soldier would have their head cut off tonight, he thought, for he was certain he’d sent a bag full of letters meant to last you at least a full season to be delivered everyday to you while he arranged for this mess to be solved.
You nod as stars fill your eyes before shaking your head as if assuring him you were alright. You loved Ajax and you had loved him for almost all your life, from the moment you met him you’d been charmed by his boyish good looks and charisma, of course a few things had changed, but he was still your sweet Ajax, the boy who’d stolen your heart and kept it safely within his arms for as long as you’ve known him.
“Come on,” you signal him to stand up with a soft pat and the man has to stop himself from begging for more of your touch, “let’s go inside, you must be tired and we have so much to talk about.” He nods and lets himself be pulled up by you as you giggle and smile about finally being able to talk face to face after years of not being able to physically see each other.
You feel like a teenager again as you lead Ajax into your house, your heart beating like you were confessing your love for the first time - the excitement was practically the same, your head felt fuzzy from the warm feeling holding Childe’s hand gave you; you had missed him terribly. You feel like you were about to explode into a million piece from excitement, your head filled with everything you’ve ever wanted to say to Ajax’s face ever since he left, all the news that felt too important to simply write out and that had you hoping a day like this would finally come, you’re scared of coming off too intensely but your heart truly feels like it’ll burst from joy, unfortunately your excitement comes to an abrupt end when you finally drag him into your living room. You turn around to offer him a drink or something to eat, the trip from the capital all the way over here was a couple hours long and he’d always had quite an appetite, but you’re faced with a look of disappointment and slight anger as he looks around the room, your heart sinks - just seconds ago he was all smiles and laughter as you two embraced each other in the harsh winter, having created a warm paradise between each other, but now he looked as if he couldn’t stand to be in your house and you wonder if maybe you’d angered him somehow even though you logically knew you’d done nothing other than invite him inside.
Maybe you were overreacting, you think, you’d been quite paranoid as of recently, your family had been distant and you’d been feeling lonely and anxious for a while. It’d been an embarrassingly long time since you’d had guests over, at least, guests that mattered to you and hadn’t been your parents’ friends or siblings spouses. The look in Ajax’s face makes your stomach churn; had something happened?
“Are your parents home?” He asks, his voice tinged in a mixture of distaste and sadness, it’s lower than when he’d spoken to you earlier and you wonder what could have happened to create such a drastic change in his behavior. If you took the time to notice you’d see how his eyes glare at the family portrait; the two traitors clear as day as they embraced their children, Childe couldn’t help but see them in a new, more negative and hateful light.
Not after two weeks of research, not when he was now certain they wanted to get in his way.
“No, they said they weren’t coming home until later tonight, but if you want to stay till then I’m sure they'd love to see you again,” you try to reassure him thinking he was perhaps saddened at not being able to see your parents, it’d make sense since, unlike you two, they hadn’t been able to keep in touch since the young man’s career in the Fatui began.
“I… I don’t think I want to meet them, no,” Ajax shakes his head, his hair bouncing as he makes his way to your sofa, his legs tremble slightly – cowards, he thinks, not even able to show their faces, “I actually came here to talk to them but, ha… now that I’m here I’m not too sure.”
“Hmm, how so?” You ask, your heart - which was already quite nervous at his sudden change of mood - sinks further, a sudden uneasiness fills your lungs.
He’d come here in hopes of finding you parents and confronting them with his findings, he would have offered them a chance to redeem themselves and cancel the wedding without you even finding out about the secret dealings they’d been making in your name, but they were not here, you were. Maybe, he could change his battle plan, if he couldn’t talk to your parents… why not simply talk to you? If he’d offered a higher sum and never asked you himself, he’d be no better than that lowlife and your parents, not that you’d reject him - but the thought of steeping as low as they did made him sick.
“What are your thoughts about marriage?” The question is so sudden and unrelated to the previous topic you instinctively frown.
“Marriage,” you sit down opposite of him, it feels like you’re in a job interview as he questions you, “I mean, I’ve thought about it but I’m not sure I want to get married, at least not now, I’m not too sure I’d want to give it all up; I mean, I have a job and friends, there’s so much to do, so much I want to do… and I can’t say I’d be able to do it all if I was married. I’d like to travel and, I… I don’t know, learn more I guess, I feel like if I settle down it'll be once I’m more, you know, confident or mature?”
You trail off awkwardly, it was true - the only times you’d ever seriously thought about marriage often included you being significantly older and, most of the time, with an already retired Ajax — though you wouldn’t admit that to his face unless you were certain he felt the same. You’d rather keep that last part hidden, if not for fear of making him uncomfortable, for the sake of your heart and fear of being brushed aside. Your parents had made it quite clear; you were no marriage-material, you’d be lucky if you even manage to get a partner at this rate, and you doubted a man as accomplished as Tartaglia, Ajax, the 11th Harbinger, would settle for a average, clumsy, pessimistic small town girl such as yourself.
He stays quiet as if a million thoughts were racing around his head; that wasn’t the answer he particularly wanted, he’d rather hear you’d been fantasizing of marrying him, hear you ramble on and on about how you’d been waiting for him and were just about ready to go down the aisle with him and promise yourself to one another but he was glad you weren’t against the idea of marriage, even if he wished you’d been more open about doing it sooner rather than later; but that would change, he was sure of it.
“And, uh, what about you?” You ask, the air felt heavy and you desperately wanted to ease the tension, only one thought was really running through your head that you were too afraid to ask; “What was going on with Ajax?”
“Me?” The question snaps him out of whatever mental trance he’d caught himself in, “Well, I want to get married, the sooner the better, I want to have a family, but it’s gotta be with the person I love the most in this world, I couldn’t bring myself to imagine living without them.”
Neither the words themselves nor the sentiment are crazy, even if you’d only just gotten to know him, it was obvious Ajax wanted a loving family to call his own and it was a pretty common desire for many, it more so was the way his eyes seemed to bore into your own as he spoke, as if he were trying to let you know it was you who he was talking about. You flustered at the thought, it was perhaps selfish to think it was you he was talking about but the thought pleased you nonetheless even if your parents’ words echoed in your mind.
“That’s, ah,” you mumble, breaking eye contact and looking elsewhere, trying to calm your beating heart, you should stop being so silly - he was here to talk with your parents, not you, both of you meeting was mere coincidence, nothing else, “really nice, I hope you find them soon..”
“You do?” He smiles, seemingly pleased with your words, but it’s significantly weaker than usual.
There’s an awkward silence as you wonder if maybe, just maybe, he’d come here to propose. You know it sounds crazy and incredibly sudden but the mention of marriage and wanting to talk to your folk, the fact he’d made the time in his incredibly busy schedule and travels to come over to your house, it made it sound like he had ulterior motives for coming here and just the thought of them had you flustered. You may have just said you wanted to hold off on marriage, that you doubted someone like him would even think of being your partner, but you felt certain that if Ajax asked for your hand you would agree with no hesitation – out of a pitiful mix of love and desperation.
You’re unsure of what to do and are about to speak up, willing to say almost anything to move the conversation forward and away from the topic, but he beats you to it and breaks the silence first.
“Listen, dove… I-I love your parents and I wouldn’t accuse them of something like this if I didn’t have evidence, okay?” He lies through his teeth, after finding out the way they were so willing to get in between you two he could barely stand the thought of them now, but he’s lucky the rest of the words come easy, “I really didn’t want to believe this either, but I have many a reason to suspect they may be trying marrying you off soon to a stranger.”
“W-What?” You breathe out, you struggle to process his words, it’s as if they’d bounced off your brain and floated off elsewhere, “M-marrying me off? What’s - what do you mean?”
No, no, no way.
You feel yourself grow tense and light headed.
What sort of messed up prank was this? There was no way… right?
“It seems they found a member of the Fatui,” he shakes his head, “a guy named Andrei Galkin, and they’re planning to marry you off to him, so I decided to ask around - it seems like it’s been a topic for a while now, money may be involved too, the reason I came here was to… have a talk with your parents, see if I could change their mind.”
“D-do you even have proof?” You ask with a shivering voice, heat rushes to your cheeks as you begin to feel hot in embarrassment and anger; your parents were meaning to sell you off to some man? This had to be a joke Childe was playing, you’d known he’d become a bit off after the Abyss incident and you knew his time as a Harbinger probably messed him up, but this wasn’t funny. It was disgusting, the mere prospect has you trembling as you try and grasp what on earth was happening. However, the more you look at him, you wonder if this is a joke at all. You studied him and his expression, desperately trying to see anything on his face that’d indicate this was a sick prank from his part, a cheeky smile or maybe lack of eye contact - anything would do, you felt yourself begin to hyperventilate as you realized how absurd it’d be for him to come all the way to a village hours away from the main city to play such a horrible joke on you, one he must have known would cause you pain and anguish — you doubted he’d want to see you like this, at least you hoped he wouldn’t want to see you like this.
Oh, the realization makes you grow lightheaded, he was probably telling the truth.
“There’s correspondence between them and his family, there’s also a wedding venue booked under their names,” Ajax mumbled, his voice a mere whisper against the sound of your beating heart, he pulls a few files from his coat and hands them to you - your last name is printed on the cover and you quickly open them and browse through the pages, your heart sinks, “I also found money transactions between your family and the Galkin family, about… I’m sorry but I can’t —“
“How much, Ajax?” You feel stiff and your hands start shaking making it hard for you to continue flipping through the countless reports, photographs, records, bank transactions, and letters, your blood feels terribly cold as you try to calm down the whirlwind of feelings that coursed through your body, but you couldn’t bring yourself to calm down, not when your family, your parents of all people, have seemed to been able to calmly put a price on not only your love but your person as well.
“About 900,000 Mora,” he mutters, cold blue eyes avoiding your gaze as he continues, “to Uncle and Auntie from Andrei’s family.”
“900,000 Mora…” You feel your heart shatter as Childe brings a comforting hand towards your shoulders, his calloused fingers massaging your tense muscles, “You’re… you’re serious, aren’t you?”
“I’d never lie about such a thing,” he approaches you slowly, Ajax continues speaking as he envelops you with a hug soon after removing the papers from your trembling hands,“this pains me as much as it pains you.”
All of this was true, it’d taken him a long time to gather it all, but the reality was simple and cruel;
your parents had begun arranging for your marriage to an older Fatui soldier for after his retirement.
“Why… why would they do this?” You mutter, feeling sorrow slowly fill your lungs up - making it harder to breathe comfortably, “H-how could they? How could they? Why… Ajax, w-why?”
You felt like an idiot, just minutes ago you’d naively thought you may be getting proposed to by your childhood lover, a childish and hopelessly romantic thought, but now you’re sitting in your living room, on the verge of a breakdown as you tried to think of why on earth your parents would be willing to accept such an offer on your behalf, why they’d use you - their daughter - for Mora.
“Shhh, it’s okay, let it out,” he brings your head into his shoulder, caressing your back in a soothing manner, “it must feel horrible, I’m sure.”
And so you sit there, sobbing into your old friend as you try and process the information presented in front of you. It takes you a good couple of minutes to calm down, by then you two have once again sat down on the couch.
“What am I going to do?” You bury your face into your hands, your body shook as you thought about having to confront your parents once they arrived now with the knowledge you had.
It takes Ajax a couple of seconds before he speaks up, he needed to make it seem like he hadn’t been thinking of this from the moment he’d gotten his hands on the evidence himself; “I have an idea but...”
Your head shoots up in record speed, you could practically feel your neck crack from the sudden move but you didn’t care, you were desperate for a solution - no matter how good or bad it may be; “Oh come on, just spit it out, nothing could be worse than this.”
“Marry me.”
Your eyes widen and your breath hitches; “M-Marry you?”
He nods, sapphire eyes staring you down like a hunter would prey - you didn’t like the way he was looking at you.
“Why?”
“Why?” He echos, you can see him stifle a laugh, “Because it’s either that or marrying some lowlife named Andrei who paid to wed you.”
You feel your body stiffen at the harsh words, they were true but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt to hear. You avoid looking him in the eyes, your hands anxiously twiddle each other.
“… and what if you’re wrong?”
“What?” He asks as if he couldn’t believe what you had just said.
“What if my parents aren’t marrying me off…”
“Darling,” Ajax laughs but his eyes didn’t seem to have gotten the memo, “are you doubting me? I gave you evidence, it’s right there.”
“Not necessarily,” you look away, you couldn’t help but wonder why you needed to explain yourself, “but, come on, I can’t accept this, it’s too sudden and mom and dad, t-they’d never do this to me, right? I’m their daughter, you know? They love me, they said they did and you don’t do this if you love someone, right?. So… so w-what if you’re wrong?”
“Wrong? There’s no other interpretation that makes sense of what we’ve both seen. Why would I lie to you about this? Come on, love, look at me, do I look like I’m enjoying this?” He questions you, “Look at me, come on, listen to me, if it were up to me,” he grabs your chin when you refuse to meet his gaze, his dark blue eyes stare deeply into your soul; they don’t shine the way the once used to, “I would have asked them for their blessing and proposed to you in the plaza, I would have had a ring ordered from Liyue costume made for you, I’d organize for their to be flowers of every color imaginable, even arrange food and music too, there would be hundreds onlookers who’d die to experience a fraction of the joy we would be feeling, I would have invited my family and yours, I’d have you wearing a custom dress, you’d be the happiest woman in Teyvat if I’d have my way… but look where we are instead, can’t you see? This isn’t what I wanted for us, this isn’t what I wanted for you, but we still have time, we can still fix it. But before that first, you have to believe me and get it through your head; this is who they are, this is what they’ve done, your parents don’t love you any more.”
“…” You can only look at him in shock as you feel tears swell in your eyes because it was not far fetched to say that the last few months your family had been distant, that they’d begun to act strange, and that you’d been short on cash for Tsaritsa knows how long, it hurt because a part of you felt like this was plausible. Because it was true, you were the youngest and that you didn’t exactly pull your weight the same way your siblings did, it was true you’d been more of a casualty in your family’s life but that didn’t mean they’d sell you off. No, they had treated you with love and kindness, they’d been there for every big step in your life, they loved you… right? They’d never do this to you, they would never accept Mora in exchange for your hand in marriage. They would never trade their love for you for some Money… right?
Maybe their love was ensuring you had a better future, one where your lover took care of you even if you didn’t exactly choose them, it was true your love life had been awfully stale, that the only person you’d ever been interested in who had also liked you back was in the army, and that you were never quite able to secure a full time job, it was always part-time and you were always booked the least compared to your coworkers. It was true you didn’t have many friends, most of the people your age had moved away by now, you were the only one of your siblings who wasn’t married or dating someone, out of all of your siblings you were the only one who seemed to remain the same no matter how many years passed. Maybe it was exactly what this was, a misunderstood, misplaced, and ill-fitting way of showing their love; but maybe you hated the thought this was their way of expressing it more than you were moved they’d tried at all.
“Shhh, my love,” you didn’t quite catch when Ajax had started wiping your tears away nor when he had managed to get so close, but at that moment – the moment where your whole life felt so uncertain and shaken – you were willing to ignore it all, “it’s okay, I know what you’re thinking… My offer still stands, you can still marry me.”
“And then what?” You sobbed, holding his gloved hands tightly against your cheek, “What am I going to do after that?”
“You’ll move in with me,” he responds matter of factly yet his tone is still soft, as if he feared speaking too loudly would scare you away, “and we’ll tell them together and you’ll make your bags and we’ll be on our way away from all of this mess. Please listen to me, sweetheart, as of right now, I’m the only choice for you – it won’t be bad at all, it’ll be lovely in fact, don’t you want that?”
“…”
“Please, please trust me, I only want what’s best for you,” he continues, ignoring your silence and instead continuing to caress your skin, “I’ve worked with Andrei, he’s no good, he’s older and cranky, he’s always in a bad mood, he won’t satisfy you, and I don’t want you to be miserable, I mean look at you, is this what you want? Hear me out and put trust in me, you won’t regret it; I’ll get you out of this, I promise.”
“But…”
“I love you and I know you love me,” he whispered, drawing closer to you, his voice low as he slowly leans into your lips, he stops right before they can touch his own, “and I’m sure you’ll grow to love this too.”
There’s a silence as you let your options cross your head, you feel yourself grow overwhelmed, being struck with grief and regret in such strong waves you have no choice but to simply give in to the only secure stone you currently see in the storm that was brewing in your mind.
He loved you, he said so himself, and he’d protect you, he’d promised. You could trust him, you had to trust him; you had no one else.
“I’ll… I’ll marry you.”
“That’s my girl.” He boasts, his face – which is now close enough for you to smell the mint in his breath – breaks into a smile before he’s leaning into your face to kiss you; You reciprocate the action and close your eyes, secretly hoping that today was but a nightmare.
You feel his gloved hands wander around your body, the leather-like material is smooth as his skilled digits play around. There’s barely any time to breathe as he continues kissing you until you grow dizzy from the lack of oxygen entering your lungs.
You had always liked Ajax, always dreamed of marrying him, but as your dreams were coming true you couldn’t help but feel suffocated by the circumstances that brought it up.
“Darling,” he moans, as he finally parts himself from your abused lips, “you’re not kissing back, don’t tell me you –“
“Ajax,” you interrupt, your voice barely above a whisper as you desperately try to dive into his eyes, seeking an answer, “why are you doing this?”
The question spoke for itself, no further clarification was needed; why had he come? Why had he revealed your parents’ plans? Was it even as awful as he made it seem? Why did he care? Why now? Did he really want to marry you or did he just feel responsible for you? Why did he bring himself into this mess? Why you, why him, why, why, why, why? Simply; why?
A part of you couldn’t quite believe what you’d heard, you still struggled to grasp the idea that your parents would even think of giving your hand away for Mora, and yet the intensity in his voice, the anger in his tone as he relayed the information he’d gathered could have convinced anyone, you doubted he’d lie about something as severe. If this was the truth, it’d been revealed to you too quickly, you’d been expected to get over it too soon, one moment you find out your parents were getting rid of you and your trust in the most materialistic of ways and the next you’ve been proposed to by a man you hadn’t seen in person for over half a decade. You can’t help but wonder if you said yes because you loved him or because you were desperate, for what - you didn’t know.
“Because I love you,” he speaks, his dull eyes finding yours and you wonder if they’d always lacked light, “I love you… and I’m not letting anyone get in my- our way.”
In his head, this was the only way to have you, this was the only way to love you, he was going to save you.
He doesn’t stop to wait for your response before he’s picked you up with ease, years of training and hard work evident by how nonchalantly he walks around your house and goes up the stairs, ignoring all the other rooms and picking up the pace the closer you got to the destination; you were going to your bedroom, you realize, the one you’d been occupying since you were a child. You never thought your house to be small but the speed in which he was walking made you aware of how short the distance between your bedroom and living room was.
“Ajax, what are you doing?” You whimper, you hold on tightly to the ginger, you’re so close you can smell his cologne, afraid he’d let you do if you let up even for a second.
“I’ll show you,” he continued down the hall, there’s an edge to his voice that gives you a chill, he sounded almost angry but with whom you did not know, “I’ll show you why I’m doing this.”
You two finally make your way to your bedroom where he kicks the door open and plops you, quite unceremoniously, down onto the mattress. He kicks off his shoes and wiggles his heavy coat off before climbing the bed with you, he tugs you around until you’re below him.
“You’re doing all of this too fast, calm down,” you argue, pain and sorrow still evident in your voice and it hurts his soul to hear it, “you don’t have to prove me anything, I…”
“Everything I’ve said is true, love,” the red-head insists, “and I’m doing this equally for me as I’m doing it for you.”
You don’t respond, instead you opt to look away; his gaze was becoming too intense and it was making you feel funny in ways you hadn’t felt before.
“Look at me,” his hands find your jaw and he redirects your gaze forcefully, “you’ve already said yes, unless… don’t tell me you,” his eyes darken as they narrowed, an almost animalistic look took over his features, “you lied and you don’t want to marry me.”
“I… I do, I’ve always wanted to, but,” It’s embarrassing to admit but you do so anyway in fear of creating a misunderstanding between the two of you, everything was going so fast you were struggling to keep up, “but… is this really how you want to do it?”
You were certain you could take things slower, maybe wait for your parents to come home and talk to them, you didn’t understand why he was in such a hurry, was this healthy? Was this okay?
“Yes,” it seems like he can sense your hesitation so he continues, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His words held so much certainty you almost feel stupid for even questioning him, he drew near your lips once more before engulfing your mouth in a kiss, this time with much more vigor than before.
His teeth nip at your lips, begging for entry and you shyly grant it, slowly parting your mouth open. It’s all so messy as you feel his tongue enter your mouth, the muscle seemingly had a life of its own as it mapped your mouth, teeth clashed against each other as if he were desperate to dominate you.
His hands find your waist and insists on pushing you further into the bed, molding your body into the mattress, as he rubs your sides with slow, sensual movements that light your body ablaze. The contrast between the continuous attacks on your lips and the soft stroking of your body left you dizzy, he handled you as if you were made of porcelain and yet ravaged you like a beast when granted access.
You unknowingly whine as your lips finally part, taking a deep breath of air in the process, a thin strip of saliva connected you both, a lewd indicator of the passion Ajax wished to imprint on you. You’re both panting, clearly riled up from the heated kiss, but the man on top of you insisted on letting his hands work their way through you. Your eyes trail downwards where his gloved digits traced the shape of your body, the way they glide across your curves and dips was hypnotizing, and you miss the way a smirk overtakes his features as he realizes how tightly he’s got you wrapped around those very same fingers.
You feel his breath before you hear his words; “Can I take this off?”
His voice is barely above a whisper yet his question rings around the room like a scream, you feel yourself grow hot under your clothes; the same ones he’d just asked to remove off of you.
You’re too embarrassed to answer him, still slightly hesitant to continue going, you can feel your cheeks heat up into a burning mess and you’re scared that if you speak you’ll make a fool of yourself, so instead you nod slowly, trying to calm your racing mind, moving your eyes elsewhere in hopes you wouldn’t have to see the smug look his face was sure to take.
However, he’s quick to catch your face and redirect your gaze back to himself; “Thank you.”
You let him pick you from the bed to fiddle with the claps on the back of your dress, his fingers are swift in figuring out how to free you from your outer layers, it’s almost amazing how quickly he’s able to take your clothes off until you’re clad in your modest undergarments.
Due to Snezhnaya’s unforgiving winters you often layered multiple articles of clothing and prioritized warmth over aesthetics, the thought your underwear might be underwhelming doesn’t cross your mind until you’re left with your thigh-length woolen socks and plain bra and panties. You wonder if maybe the sight would be disappointing for a man as well traveled as Childe, he’s probably seen much more appealing bodies and clothes during his travels, but that idea goes as quickly as it comes when you finally see his reaction to your partially bare body.
Even though he still wore multiple layers, you could see the way his chest had begun to fall and rise unsteadily, his cheeks have taken a feverish glow, and his breath has become noticeably ragged, the hands that held the clothes he’d recently taken off your body were clearly shaking, his fists tightened their grip on the soft fabrics of your garments until they wrinkled. His eyes never left you, even as they traveled through your body, mapping out every nook and cranny he so desperately wanted to mark and savor, he didn’t dare let his gaze wander as if afraid the minute he did you’d disappear and he’d wake up in his office, cold and alone.
“Hah…” Ajax lets out a soft moan as he takes in the sight in front of him, he feels weak and bothered as he watched your breasts rise and fall as you breathed, he lets his eyes go downwards until he’s face to face with your covered pussy and he feels his underwear slowly moisten as he catches sight of a small wet patch that had formed in your panties.
“Don’t look at me like that…” You mumble into your arms, your body instinctively tries to hide itself but your friend doesn't allow it. The minute he feels your legs try to bundle together he slots himself in between them and throws your clothes away so he can fully grasp and force them apart.
There’s silence as you both stare at each other, waiting for one of you to make the first move and fully pass the point of no return.
Surprisingly, this time it’s you who grows impatient and drags the ginger down to meet your hungry lips.
Maybe it’s because right now, Ajax felt like the only person who cared about you and you felt desperate to feel comforted, you felt betrayed and hurt and you craved to be reminded you were loved. It wasn’t healthy and a part of you felt guilty, like you were using him for momentary comfort, as if you’d forced him to come and offer his hand in marriage, if you were smarter and stronger maybe you would’ve realized what was going on and could have stopped it. But he’d said he loved you, right? You loved him, you knew you did and he’d gone and declared his love for you first, even when you were kids he was always dedicated to reminding you of his adoration, but your parents said that too and where did that lead to? He wasn’t doing this out of feeling obligated to care for you, was he?
Maybe this was a mistake, you probably should not be initiating sex with a man you haven’t seen in person in years after he came to tell you your parent had sold you off to marry some rich old, gross soldier, you instead should have sat down and talked for longer, tried figuring out what was going on and perhaps find a solution that didn’t include you marrying your childhood sweetheart, not out of love but out of fear of being forced into an arranged marriage with a stranger. But the fact of the matter is that you didn’t do that, you let yourself be dragged along by his passion and desperation, you now laid in bed making out with Ajax as you desperately tried to push the thoughts of self-doubt and disgust away.
You try to focus on the present without thinking of the past nor the future; The almost one million Mora your parents had pocketed didn’t mean anything, there was no Andrei Galkin, Ajax had never left you, the Fatui didn’t exist, there hadn’t been any betrayal or hurt feelings, you were safe and you were free, there was nothing. In this room, at least for this moment, all that existed was you and Tartaglia.
His shirt is a barrier between your greedy hands and his naked body that’s becoming increasingly annoying as you parted your lips to grant him access to your all of mouth, which he gladly accepts as your tongues caress each other in a sloppy manner, you feel your teeth sometimes clash with his own but you’re too focused on tugging at his clothes, trying to get them off with the least amount of space between you both to care. They could rip, you didn’t care, you wanted to feel his body and warmth, you needed to feel alive.
Your body is starting to feel tingly, your nipples feel hard against your bra and your lower region becomes needy. You want him to touch you more but his hands are busy fiddling with your hips and waist, alternating between the two spots as he caresses and pinches your skin.
You both seem hesitant to let each other go even if it’s for something as necessary as catching your breaths, but even if things seemed to have slowed down it didn’t mean something isn't happening.
“Ajax,” your voice is soft and breathless, you feel your lungs beg you to not speak, “take ‘em off, wanna touch you…”
You gesture at his clothes, slowly running a finger around his chest and stopping at - where you guessed - his nipple was and pressing down hard.
A deep grunt of approval escaped the man’s lips at the feeling and it took him a second to nod, busy trying not to focus too much on the way he felt his cock throbbing, and back off to make way for him to take his clothes off. Childe refuses to completely climb off you, instead leaning backwards to unbutton his shirt and click off the harness he wore, his coat falling behind is his figure, and his shoes long since thrown elsewhere, his pink nipples are clearly sensitive as his eyes shut off tightly as his clothes graze them, his whole body felt on fire - as if your mere presence were an aphrodisiac to the man. Next is his pants and socks and he does his very best to be as quick as humanly possible, they’re all off in record speed and he’s soon only wearing his underwear.
The minute he’s done, he’s thrown himself back onto you as if trying to make up for the few seconds he’d parted from you.
You’re flustered as you finally feel his skin freely come in contact with yours, as if the situation slowly began sinking in just then. Not to mention, you’d caught sight of his raging boner through the thin layer of fabric that constituted his undergarments. It looked big and thick and you wondered, if you even reached that point, if it was even possible to feel good from such a thing pounding on your hole, it looked like it’d hurt more than anything. But a greedy part of you was desperate to find out how it’d feel to have all of him inside of you, to have his fat tip caressing the deepest corners of your body, painting your gummy insides white.
This time, you both skip the kissing and go straight to touching each other, this time more shamelessly and with less hesitance. Your hands find his neck and you pull his head into the crook of your neck where he dedicates his time to litter kisses across the area, you let your hands wander across his shoulders and neck, softly scratching the skin under your nails whenever he kisses a particularly sensitive spot. On the other hand, Ajax let his hands travel across your chest and cup your breasts, he molds the flesh like a stress ball, tightening his grip and pulling at them like they were toys. The feeling of your bra coming into contact with your hardening nipples makes you whimper and moan while your body contorts in an attempt to meld deeper with the man on top of you.
Your movements are restricted and awkward as you were currently caged between the bed and him, but you do your best to communicate your growing neediness.
“A-Ajax, mhmm~!” You gasp, his teeth gnaw at a spot in your neck that has a shot of neediness reaching your privates in electrifying waves, “… more, I wan’ more…”
You can feel his lips curve into a smirk as he hears the desperation in your voice but he’s not better at concealing the very obvious way your words affected him; “My dove wants more? Hah—haha, a-aren’t you such a cute ‘nd needy little thing.”
You huff slightly at his teasing words but you can’t deny that the way he addressed you as “his” made you grow increasingly horny. He seems to hear your soft complaint and finally parts with your neck, which was now littered with hickies and love bites, to allow himself to gaze deeply into your eyes.
You could never deny that Ajax’s eyes were the prettiest shade of blue you’d ever seen, they resemble sapphires and noctilucous jade but with less shine. When you both were younger you’d spend hours gazing upon them, admiring the intensity they held. Now, however, you can’t say you aren’t slightly intimidated as he gazes at you like a predator. His hands leave your body and you’re immediately missing the warmth they provided you, in fact, you’re about to complain and ask him to touch you again when he suddenly cups your clothed pussy with his hand.
His hand is large, his fingers are long and the palm is in no way small, which meant most - if not all - of your cunt was now being held in one of his hands. His thumb is hovering over your clit and you gasp as you feel him tighten his hold and trace his fingers across your slit and up to your sensitive nub.
You squirm, letting your bottom grind against his hands, slowly building up your pleasure until you’re letting out soft moans and whines. Tartaglia decides to aid you as he himself works towards getting his member hard and oozing with release by moving his hand across your pussy and grinding on your thighs simultaneously. Your mind grows hot and dazed as you sense your pussy begin to drool, you could feel the way your juices leaked, the wet trail they’d leave and traveled across your your entrance, down your slit and across your thighs, soaking your underwear with release; you wondered if Ajax could feel your excitement too.
You could certainly feel him. His cock had long since been hard and leaking precum, you could make out through hazy eyes and desperate movements a wet patch on his boxers. It looked so big constrained against the fabric, you wanted to free his cock and feel it inside your hole, any of them, his balls seemed to hold unceremonious amounts of cum as the wetness kept growing more and more visible to you, you wondered if he’d be willing to come inside of you if you asked.
You both work together, trying to make the other as aroused as possible until someone snapped and began demanding the intercourse you both clearly wanted.
You don’t want to give in, not yet, but he’s begun to tease your slit with his fingertips and you’re growing aggravated from the empty feeling in your cunt. You feel yourself clenching onto nothing, your walls closing desperately trying to find anything to grip onto, you are growing desperate to feel something inside, be it his fingers, his tongue or his cock — you wanted him inside of you, now.
“Ha… hah~” You can feel his tongue hanging from his open mouth, drool escapes his parted lips and coats your breasts, you’re surprised he’s managed to keep himself up for so long, all the training he’d endured paying off and allowing him to mount your thighs and grind his length against your skin, his expression is one of extreme arousal that makes you tense and grow lust-drunk, “T-Tell me… d’ya wanna feel my cock in your pussy yet, darling?”
“…! M—mhk?!” You let out a high pitched whine as a particular stroke of his hands delves momentarily into your clothed hole, you can feel your cum slowly dirty your underwear.
“Look at you,” he chuckles, his movements growing erratic, his ginger hair seems darker and less vibrant against his reddened face, “your… your pussy is beggin’ for me!”
“Please…” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your body still rocks alongside his own as he uses your body to get off and bring you close to a mind-numbing release, your voice wavers as your whole being is shocked from the pleasure Ajax’s hand toying with your clothed cunt brings, your legs twitch and your body keeps contorting and folding.
“Hmm, please what? I need you to tell me,” he mumbles, his voice takes a deep, desperate and animalistic tone as he continues, he takes his fingers and starts to circle your clit with an unimaginable force, “What do you want, huh? If you want me to fuck y-you, you’ll need to use your big girl words. Say; “I want my husband’s cock inside of me”, come on, ask for y-your husband’s cock…!”
“A~Ajax…! Please-uh…” Your body begins to hurt, your very own genitals seem to be burning in fire as you desperately try to soothe the ache in your womb and clit. You begin to rut against his hands at an embarrassing, almost objectifying, pace, absolutely desperate to cum and lift the cloud of lust that seemed to haunt you from the moment Ajax laid your body on your mattress.
“That’s not who I am,” he mumbles into your skin, his teeth beginning to bite and mark the flesh of your breast, “I’m y-your husband now, right? So, ask for it properly… hah~ won’t you?”
“… want my h-husband’s cock, I… inside of me, please,” you whine between heavy breaths, “I… want to fuck my—hah… h-husband…”
The moan that leaves his lips is loud and primal, his whole body shudders as he hears your plea. He didn’t think he could get any harder and yet hearing your shaky voice ask for him sends a rush of blood through his body and straight to his dick.
“Ahaha… that’s right, isn’t it? I-I’m your husband now,” an unsettling grin starts to form on his face, one that, if you weren’t so desperate and vulnerable, would probably have sent a shiver down your spine; it was an expression that resembled his face after ending a powerful opponent, one that meant victory was his, that he’d won, it was the face many people would see before departing the realm of the living, one of pure, unhinged bliss that could only be understood by a man such as himself, “I’m your husband, your husband… a-ah! Ha-ah, that means… hah, that means it’s my duty to fuck you, to make you feel good, a good husband makes love to his spouse, right? S-so as your husband, I get to be inside of you… a-and make you cum lots. Yeah, I… I’m going to be the best husband, you’ll feel good too… So be a good wife and take all of my love, ‘kay?”
During his incoherent rambling, which you barely could understand, he works to rid you of your underwear with desperate movements. His hands pull at the fabric with enough force that they tear, allowing him to rip the fabric off your hips and discard it on the floor. The cool air in your room hits your lower end and makes you shiver, your body had been previously engulfed by Childe’s warmth, the feeling of his own heating body and rapid blood circulation had sheltered you from the freezing temperature outside of the sinful haven between your bodies. The difference in temperature and its effect on you seems to have been noticed by your partner, who looks around the room trying to find a solution.
You want to hurry him up, tell him you didn’t mind the cold, that you just wanted to feel him inside you for the first time, but before you know it he’s pulling something from behind; his white coat soon is back on his shoulders, lazily throw on, barely holding up as he quickly pulls his underwear off. He’s quick and precise, never wasting a moment as he adjusts himself on top of you once more, this time with his bare cock leaking on your stomach.
“I’ll heat you up… inside and out, hah…” He mumbles, adjusting the coat so it covers both of you, the long, heavy material immediately worked wonders as your body regained its warmth.
You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, you’re both trembling as he slowly lowers his pelvis to meet your own. You were right, he was big and he was long and thick, but he made sure to go slowly as he inserted two fingers to stretch you out in preparation.
Your slick facilitates the intrusion, there’s not much pain as he opens and closes his fingers, curling and extending them, as if trying to gauge how far you could stretch. His cheeks are a bright red, sweat runs through his forehead as he feels your body accommodate the feeling of his fingers. Ajax was big, always taller than most in your village, and his time in the Fatui had definitely contributed to his size – his shoulders were broad, his chest chiseled, and his fingers, the ones that slowly danced inside your pussy, were long and calloused. This was your first time feeling something other than your own hands and Ajax was making sure to show you all the places you could have never reached on your own.
You don’t even realize you’d begun panting, soft whines and moans had been leaving your lips forma while now, noises that only served to encourage Ajax further. But he had to stop, he needed you both to cum together as one. Your first time together had to be romantic like that, both of you climaxing together and coming undone at the same time.
There’s a feeling of emptiness and disappointment that follows the feeling of his fingers leaving your body, you’re about to complain when you see him bring his fingers to his lips to lap at the slick that had stuck to them. You’re mesmerized at the lewd image, gazing hopelessly at the way his face melted into one of pure pleasure as he tasted you. He makes sure to lick his fingers clean, his tongue lapping at the cum.
You catch his eyes and they soften, a lovestruck look taking over his features, you nod and open your legs wider than before; encouraging him to finally fuck you. He positions himself outside of your opening, making sure you grasp your legs and pull them as wide apart as he physically could without hurting you.
Even with the previous preparation, your breath is knocked out of your lungs as his tip slowly makes its way through your slit, past the muscles and finally inside your gummy walls.
He uses his arms to adjust his body, making sure to be as careful as possible as to not hurt you. This was your first time making love to each other, and he’d be damned if he were the one to cause you pain.
He gives you a second before pushing the rest in, he’s still slow, attempting to coax your body into adjusting to the feeling of being so full. His blue eyes are closed, his breath is heavy and you can feel the bed shake as he tries to control himself, you’re not faring much better, your head felt light as all your body could seemingly concentrate on was the feeling between your legs, your body was heating up and you could feel the warmth radiate off your skin.
You know he’s fully sheathed himself when you feel the soft “thud” of his balls hitting your ass, you’ve become hyper aware of the proximity and situation you’re in as his cock begins to throb inside of your pussy, his head comes to rest on the crook of your neck as you both adjust to the feeling of each other's body.
A moment passes, your walls that had previously been gripping Ajax like a lifeline slowly weaken, finally allowing both of you to relax and begin to experiment.
“I-I’ll start…” He mumbles, avoiding your gaze as if feeling shy, he begins to move around as if to grip the bed’s headboard, all while still inside you, his arms allowing him to cover your body from the world.
As you look up, you realize how he’s become all you see, his imposing frame and coat acting as a curtain blocking the outside from entering your view. Your heart feels heavy but you try and pay it no mind.
The movements are slow and clumsy at first, his cock never truly leaves your warmth fully, his tip always kept inside of your cunt - one way or another. The feeling is strange, you’re not used to the way his length would gaze at your walls or the feeling of the veins on his dick caressing spots inside of you that made you gasp and curl your toes. It’s new and it takes some adjusting before you begin to rock your own hips to meet his, suddenly it begins to feel good, really good in fact. There was something about the stretch, maybe it was the feeling of being so full, the way his cock curved and hit spongy spots in your pussy becomes addicting, or maybe it was the fat vein that decorated the underside of his cock, but it wasn’t long until you’re trying to entice a faster, tougher pace.
He takes his time teasing and easing you into the rhythm of sex, he wouldn’t tell you, but a part of him was scared that if he picked up his pace he wouldn’t be able to stop until you were leaking his cum - not to mention, he wasn’t sure he’d last long if he started to fuck you even faster. The feeling of your walls gripping him was divine, there are moments his thrusts grow unsteady and out of sync, as if his body was trying to take control and allow itself to set the animalistic pace he so desperately wanted, it’s these exact moments where his patience is tested, where he wants nothing more than to pick up your body and use it as a toy to fill with his semen.
“I wan’ more,'' you moan and he freezes as he feels your hips pathetically lift up to meet his heated thrust, your lower region coming up and rolling, rocking, and sloppily caressing his own pelvis in an attempt to suck him deeper into your sex, this was the first time you’d ever experienced such fullness and pleasure, your mind was numb and you’d forgotten all about previous sorrows, you truly wanted to feel more and more until all you could think of was Ajax’s cock and feeling good, “… wan’na feel my… my husband’s c-cock…?!”
At the title, the ginger truly can’t help the way his hips basically crash into yours, it was purely instinctual – just the sound of your calling him yours and acknowledging him as your husband, even if you’d only gotten engaged less than an hour ago, was enough to drive him mad with lust. He feels his head grow dizzy as thoughts of breeding you and claiming you as his take over. It’s as if a switch is turned on because from that moment onwards the atmosphere changed completely.
His previously considerate and soft strokes become harsh and rapid, you can feel your bed move rhythmically with his thrusts, your whole body jolts as he begins to fuck you with the sole goal of filling you so deeply your body was to be conditioned to respond lewdly to his mere presence. They’re deeper too as he now focused on feeling and claiming as much of your hole as possible, it’s impossible not to feel the way his cock imprinted itself deeply inside your body.
Your hands are desperate to grasp onto something, so you clutch at the sheets under you as tightly as possible, your body feels hot and heavy; your legs twitch and you're left gasping as Childe grabs your hips to adjust your position. You’re still lying down but your back arches itself to allow him easy access to your bottom, it’s surprising how easily he’s able to manhandle your body while never quite pulling out, always making sure to insert himself as quickly as he exited, never truly pulling out all of his dick.
The new position allows for him to hurry his pace, you’re soon moving like a rag doll with no control over your limbs. You’re left a moaning, whining mess as your brain struggles to process the waves of pleasure that bloomed from deep inside your pussy.
You feel your heart beating and you can almost hear the sound of your slick pouring out and lubricating your walls, making it increasingly easy to continue the Fatui’s pounding of your cunt. You’re not too sure if you’re even able to talk, the thought of forming a coherent sentence felt farfetched, all that leaves your lips are whines, sounds of pure pleasure and bliss that sound like an orchestra to Ajax.
He’s not doing much better, his vocabulary seems to have been reduced to declarations of ownership over you, boundless love, and immense pleasure. Your name soon becomes the only coherent sound leaving his lips as he lets his head fall back, his body almost working on autopilot as he allows his hips to ram inside you while his hands focus on teasing your nipples and forcing you to face his reddening face. His chest shines with sweat as he makes sure to fill the room with the sound of your skin meeting him and the growing wet mess between your merging bodies.
You’re both soon leaking arousal, Ajax’s cock starts to slowly redden and grow inside of you as he approaches orgasm, drops of precum start to form on the tip, and your torso starts to heat up as it feels heavier the better you feel; your cum is soon coating his dick white, a clear indicator he’d been inside your drooling cunt. You let go of the sheets and bring a hand to your clit, desperate to bring yourself closer to release.
“Ah-! Just like that,” Ajax exclaims, lurching forward as he feels your walls tighten around his cock, “tighten around me like that, fu–uck! I’m gonna cum, gonna cum in your pussy, gonna shoot my cum inside you… Haha–hah! You’re… you’re gonna be full with my cum, are you ready?”
You nod mindlessly, too busy playing with your clit and pressing kisses into Ajax’s skin. The feeling of being filled by your childhood sweetheart was intoxicating, it left you an overstimulated mess, moaning and whining as you gripped the man’s shoulders to bring him closer to you.
You couldn’t tell who came first, only that your final push was the feeling of Childe’s lips on yours. Maybe it’s the desperation you felt radiating off him as his tongue caressed your own, the way his hands tighten around your body as he begins unloading his cum begins seeping into your pussy and deep inside your body. You’re a shaking mess as you continue riding your orgasm on his dick, prolonging the pleasurable feeling by rocking your hips into his in an almost shy manner, it’s addicting and you’re left gasping and moaning for more. On the other hand, Ajax was trembling on top of you, his arms seemingly giving out as he collapsed into your body, allowing his head to rest beside your own on your pillows while his cock throbbed and painted your insides with his cum. He gives a few weak thrusts, as if making sure that his balls have been thoroughly emptied, before he looks over at your panting face.
You’re trying to catch your breath, desperately trying to calm your heart down into a stable rhythm, while your body twitches in a post-orgasm afterglow. You’re sweating, your eyes shut tight as you feel your pussy swell around Ajax’s dick, which was very much still inside you, and grow sensitive. Even in this state, where you’re too shaken to do anything other than breathe and try to relax your body, he thinks he’s never seen a more beautiful sight in his life.
His hand, which trembled ever so slightly, travels to find yours and intertwine your fingers together. He subconsciously traces your ring-finger, trying to estimate your size, you’d accepted his proposal, going as far as acknowledging him as your husband, it was now his responsibility to find a suitable ring for you, one worthy of resting on your fingers.
He smiles, cuddling deep into your bare skin, pressing his softening cock deeper into you, which earns him a soft whine from you, essentially plugging his semen inside your pussy.
“… I love you, Ajax.” You mumble, eyes still closed shut, your voice drowsy and far away as exhaustion slowly catches up to you. Today had been hard on you, physically and mentally, you’d learnt more than you’d wished to have known, your relationship with those around you now forever changed; you’d agreed to marry your childhood friend in response to your parents’ betrayal, you’d given up your virginity to him and now laid in bed, struggling to know if you’d made the right decisions. An inner turmoil was growing inside you, a storm of emotions you were not ready to deal with, but right now, as you lay beneath the man who’d promised to save you, you decide to rest and let him take care of it, for now. Your breathing slows down, your body finally succumbing to sleep.
You’re too tired to hear the sound of the front door unlocking, your mother’s voice booming across the house as she calls out for you as she ushers your father and guests inside your family house. Ajax makes no move to leave your bed or even remove himself from inside of you, not even as he recognizes the distinct sound of footsteps that belonged to your parents moving around downstairs, grinnin softly as he hears your mother call out for you again, while your father talked to someone and merrily laughed, joking around, easing the tension of the first meeting between two people set up in an arranged marriage – where only one of them knew.
He can hear your parents talking, making an excuse at where you were, he can hear your mother climb up the stairs, he can hear her getting closer to your room.
What a lousy move, he thought to himself, to ambush you one day and try to dump the news on top of you like this, you didn’t even seem aware of guests coming over to your home at all, he frowned; he had expected more of uncle and auntie. Alas, he’d long since given up on them, he just hopes your mother doesn’t scream too loudly when she sees you two in bed together.
He’d hate for you to wake up to such an awful shriek.
There’s a knock on your door, Ajax smiles but makes no move to answer, and then another as your mother calls out your name. She sighs before threatening to open the door, Ajax has to stifle a giggle, pressing his lips into your shoulder to not let out any noise, too afraid to ruin the surprise for his soon to be mother-in-law, she hears no response, she clearly feels agitated and annoyed, he can hear it the way she knocks once more with a stern calling of your name.
There’s a second of silence before the door is swung open.
Ajax looks over to your mother, his coat covering both your naked forms enough that a semblance of modesty is kept but not enough that what happened between the two of you was misunderstood, it would be clear to anyone who could walk in, and he smiles, leaning his body into your own, further embracing you and pushing your sleeping face into his chest, he rolls over as a playful wave is sent her way, she stands frozen in place. Your bottom halves are still covered by the oversized coat, but the bruises and bites that litter your bodies are enough to paint a picture, his hand moves to caress your body, a smug smile takes over his features as he watches your mother try to come up with the right words to say.
“Hello, ma’am,” his tone is playful but the look on his face is one of pure venom, she looks beyond flustered but isn’t able to say a word; too shaken by the sight, the combination of her daughter and a man in bed together and the Harbinger’s insignia that seemed to shine with even the smallest movements from the ginger was enough to send her stumbling back, “it’s been a while, we have a lot to catch up on, huh?”
9K notes · View notes
honeykaes · 19 days
Text
to land and sea
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neuvillette x adepti!reader II 2.7k
warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, yandere themes, adepti!reader, reader is from fontaine, monsterfucking, pool sex, biting, creampie, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, hurt/comfort, angst, cucking, non consensual voyeurism, mention of blood, fontaine story spoilers, unedited
synopsis: with lanturn rite finally done, you decide to go relax at luhua pool only to find your former lover you haven’t seen in centuries confused on what your doing there.
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The end of Lanturn Rite always felt freeing to you. With fewer responsibilities of protecting the harbor from threats to ruin the event, you finally had an opportunity to use your time as you saw fit—and most importantly, get away from him for a little while.
You walked along Luhua Pools, letting your bare curl themselves in the soft sand. The area was desolate from humans and adepti alike, for now, only accompanied by an occasional singing sparrow or the soft ruffles of swaying trees. You always admired the pools. The blues and faint greens of the vibrant waters always reminded you of your former homeland. 
Your eyes gazed at a sparrow beginning to flap its wings heading northwest beyond the large mountains of Liyue. Your eyes softened as your smile began to falter wondering if that bird would be headed towards Fontaine.
How long has it been since you were in that nation…at home? Was there still a home there for you?
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You pull the robes of your attire, folding them up and placing them on the base of a nearby tree before picking one of the smaller pools and dipping into the waters. You shivered, your body trying to adjust to the temperature before letting your body completely submerge itself in the pool.
Would the cobblestone be the same? Would the food and culture be the same?
You knew how quickly humans adapted, even in Liyue. You had already heard and witnessed Fontaine’s technological feats during this Lanturn Rite. They were the nation now leading in technology, a far cry from how things used to be when you were there.
You wondered what happened to Furina.
…To Neuvillette.
“What became of you, Neuvillette…” you whispered to yourself. Your mind spiraled trying to remember his appearance from hundreds of years ago. Did he still keep that noble shape of his?
Did the reincarnation of the former dragon sovereign still have those lilac eyes of his that softened whenever he tucked a rainbow rose in your ear?
You dipped further in the water, blowing bubbles in the salty pool before sighing once more. 
“I miss you…”
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A few hours pass as sunset begins to settle. Golden hour begins brightly as its rays highlight your skin as you sway your arms admiring the ripples of the water. 
Swoosh.
Your eyes dart up, looking around you to search for where that strange noise is coming from. Was it him? You didn’t exactly want to deal with your lord at the moment; you had plenty of time forced at his side for Lanturn Rite.
Your eyes whipped around scanning the land, but you didn’t see anything unusual. As you moved your gaze to the sea where the various pools resided you narrowed your eyes seeing a strange blue glowing coming from beneath the waters. It was moving fast, whatever this was, was an adept swimmer.
Before you summoned your weapon and left the pool to get your clothes, you gasped watching a head pop up from where the glowing was coming from. His hair was long and as white as snow, flowing behind him like a small river adorned with two stripes of blue. His skin was pale and dewy from the water, also illuminated in gold from the sunset.
Your eyes felt misty focusing on every curve of his face: his high cheekbones, his thin rosy lips. After all these years, he kept the same form.
“Neuvillette…” you called out. You couldn’t stop those words from leaving your mouth. His head slowly turned to meet yours, eyes widening in recognition as he looked at your form in the pool. 
The two of you remained frozen, drinking up each other's appearance desperate to make sure each other's eyes were not playing tricks.
His gaze softened before he soon swam near you. Water clung to his suit as he descended up to the pool you rescinded in. He kneeled near the edge, leaning down to your size.
“It’s you right? (Y/n)...” he muttered before placing his hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, chuckling as tears cascaded down your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved upwards as his thumb tenderly caressed you.
“I thought the usurpers would never allow my eyes to gaze upon yours again. I should have come to this nation much sooner,” Neuvillette whispered. You shook your head, hastily wiping your tears.
“What are you doing here anyway? How’s Furina?” you asked. Neuvillette’s eyes twinged in pain, a sad smile coaxed over him as clouds began to form blocking the golden light of the sun.
“ She…freed her people of their curse. The nation of Fontaine is thriving more than ever,” he replied. He turned his head away, smile faltering, recalling the months that still haunted him.
“...Furina did? I wish Egeria lived to see it. I’m sure Furina is as happy as ever—”
”...The cost was a part of her life. She destroyed her throne for her people. She is now just a human, set to age as all others do,” he admitted. Your gaze leaves his, looking down at your bare body.
“I see…” you trailed off. Your heart ached. You wondered if she still remembered you. Both she and Neuvillette had to go through such troubles alone. You wondered if they felt abandoned by you.
You take a deep breath trying to process everything. You were even sure if you’d be able to see Furina in her human lifetime.
”I hope she didn’t think I abandoned her before she passed. I hope you didn’t either. I left to try to find a solution to our problem, asking the other Archons for their help or ideas but…I ran into trouble as you can imagine,” you whispered. The softness in Neuvillette’s eyes hardened quickly momentarily.
“If you’re in Liyue, I’m guessing it has something to do with Morax?” he asked. You ball your fist tightly beneath the water, nails harpooning against your palm before sighing and letting it go.
“I was almost killed by these..abyssal beasts and their poison before he found me. Apparently, he was familiar with my work in Fontaine. He offered his help to save my life and give me a solution to Fontaine’s problem. In desperation, I agreed. I was forced to become one of his adepti by that contract,” you revealed.
Neuvillette sighed, anger coaxing his brows but he didn’t touch further on your life with Morax.
“Shouldn’t your contract be fulfilled now that Fontaine is saved?” Neuvillette asked. You clenched your jaw, slowly shaking your head.
“...No. Our contract had been written that he had to give me the solution. By not telling me himself, our contract is now fulfilled and I’m stuck subservient to him. I tried to go back to Fontaine but…”
You sighed, pressing your lips against his soft palm resting on your cheek. You missed his touch, it always calmed you in times of uncertainty. Neuvillette’s gaze softened once more as he leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead.
“I missed you,” you whispered.
“I missed you more. Furina always said I looked happier whenever you were with me,” he replied. Your arms reached out, placing your hands on his cheeks. His eyes still had that same love and loneliness peeking through his long white eyelashes as you last saw them. He was the same as before…but yet different.
Whatever had happened in Fontaine had changed him.
You slowly leaned, pressing your lips against his own. The juxtaposition of the softness of his lips and the electricity igniting by his touch in your once barren veins was jarring; but yet it remained as slow and sensual, desperate to reclaim the hundreds of years they’ve been apart from.
At the moment, you two felt as though you were back in Fontaine 500 years ago, in a field of rainbow roses near the sea, promising each other everything was going to work out.
You leaned away feeling a sharp pain on your bottom lip and the taste of iron on your tongue. The haze in Neuvillette’s eyes lightened up, realizing his mistake as he tongue grazed one of his elongated canines. He cleared his throat in slight embarrassment.
“I apologize. It’s been a long time since I had these types of desires and affection,” he admitted. You smiled as your hands trailed down finding their way on his neckpiece, slowly taking it off. 
“As have I,” you whispered. One by one, his articles of clothing that were soaked in seawater—adorned in the finest materials and jewels—fell onto the sand of the beach. In his nude form, he slowly dipped in the pool, joining you.
Your hands wandered through his body, admiring the sapphire scales that sometimes shined on his shoulders. As your hands gently glided on them, his body shuttered in response. He sucked a sharp breath in, feeling your hand grab his hardening cock, pumping gently. 
His cock held unnatural bumps and ridges. As it grew thicker and longer in your palm, you could see the bluish tone beneath the water. This was one indication that he wasn’t human; he was the incarnation of the hydro dragon sovereign after all.
Neuvillette bit his lip hard, showing off the elongated fangs peeking through his lip. His thigh moved your leg as his hand dipped beneath the water to cup your cunt. A soft moan escaped from your lips feeling his long fingers rub between your folds before settling on your clit.
“Neuvillette,” you whimpered out. It was a forgotten melody he had missed, your voice in that tone—it brought shivers throughout his body.
His other hand, grab your hand that was wrapped around his now pulsating cock before lifting it and placing it on his chest. 
”I don’t want anyone else to take you away from me…” he whispered. Neuvillette leaned in once more, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before diving beneath the water of the pool. You paused, blinking to try to process what he was up to.
“Neuvillette what are you— Oh!” you yelped. You feel his tight grip on the globe of your ass and thigh. He widened your legs, admiring the view of your quivering hole beneath the glistening light above. He leaned in, opening his mouth wide, before taking a long stripe of your cunt.
”God, I miss this taste. I always went crazy going through my ruts without getting to taste you again,” he muttered but you couldn’t hear as all that came up to the surface was bubbles. His tongue swirls against your clit, sucking the nub hard as you can feel his nails beginning to elongate and prod at the skin he clung onto.
You squirmed under his touch, trying to grind your pelvis to get any bit of friction you could to satiate your desires. Neuvillette offered a tender kiss on your clit before smiling.
”I hope you can forgive me if I become too rough..” Neuvillette murmured.
He opened his mouth again, prodding his tongue out, and soon began to grow longer and thicker in size. Pressing itself at your entrance, his elongated tongue slowly sank inside of you— shuddering at the taste of your arousal mixed with the waters of the Luhua Pools. 
Your hands grabbed at his now glowing antenna on top of his head as he groaned beneath you in response. He pumped his tongue inside of you, keeping your body in place, as you tried to squirm from his touch. 
Moving his grip around, he moved one hand to toy with your clit. While he rubbed tight circles along the bundle of nerves, his tongue curled against your spongy walls. You grabbed a mound of your chest, arching your back as the muffled noises of his name came from above.
Your essences flooded his tongue as Neuvillette desperately drank every drop that gushed out of you. As he slipped his tongue out of you, he left your overstimulated clit with one more kiss before lifting his upper body to the surface. You leaned against his firm chest, catching your breath.
“Was that too much…?” he whispered, pressing another kiss on top of your head. You shook your head, breath heavy as you tried to come down from your high.
”No. I want more of you Neuvillette,” you whispered, gaze half-lidded looking up at him. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip as he leaned in with a soft smile.
”Then more you shall receive,” he replied. Neuvillette lifted your chin before capturing your lips once more.
Neuvillette hooked your leg up as his cock slid itself against your puffy folds. Your body trembled as his blueish tip grazed against your clit. He soon sank his cock inside of you slowly. As he sheathed himself deeper inside, you could feel the faint burn from your walls stretching out to accommodate his large size. 
His lips peppered themselves throughout your chin and neck before he finally bottomed out. Letting your leg go, you quickly wrapped your legs around his thin waist as he reached deeper inside of you.
He lifted his head, leaning in close to let his nose graze yours.
“I don’t want this moment to ever end. I loved you then, I love you now. I always will,” he whispered. You two share another kiss before he begins to move. His hips rocked as the waves rippled in the pool to his pace.
One of his large hands found a way to your ass once more, gripping it tight as he rutted against you faster. You can feel his tip curve and nudge against your cervix.
As your head lulled to the side, focusing on the pleasure ripping through your body, Neuvillette gently grabbed your chin while grunting.
”Please don’t look away…I want to burn your expression into my mind…” he softly begged. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip, wiping the drool peaking out before you gently bit down the tip of it. 
Your walls fluttered, squeezing against Neuvillette’s cock pulsating and thrusting inside of you. You feel his nails sinking into the spongy flesh of your ass.
”Neuvil…ette. Neuvill—ette. Neuvillette!” you stammered out. Your eyes shut tight in pleasure, as a whine left your lips. With an inhumane growl, Neuvillette buried his face into your neck, cock throbbing inside of you before his hips began to falter.
Tears pricked your eyes as you clung to him tighter, crying out his name. Your walls clamped down, quivering as you climaxed. Neuvillette struggled to continue, his ruts getting slower and sloppier.
With a few thrusts, he shuttered, holding you tight as he emptied himself inside of you. You could feel globs of his thick cum filling you up as he gently bucked inside of you, nursing himself from your high.
You kept your eyes closed. Sweat clung to your forehead as you tried to catch your breath. Neuvillette lifted his head from the nape of your neck admiring your look. Just as he gently caressed your cheek, his eyes narrowed, noticing an odd sigil glowing that wasn’t there before.
A Geo sigil.
Neuvillette held you tight, shielding your form as he watched a man emerge from behind you in silence.
”I thought avoiding you would have been the best situation, but to think you’d find them…” the formerly known god as Morax murmured with a practiced saccharine smile on his face. 
Neuvillette was thankful your back was to him. His golden eyes were slitted in pindrops and glowing in envy. He was trying to hold his anger back.
”The Usurper Morax, know this: I’m done with you all taking things that don’t belong to you,” Neuvillette stated, narrowing his eyes.
Zhongli simply put his hand behind himself, closing his eyes as he pondered Neuvillette’s words momentarily before a soft chuckle left his lips.
“And that’s where you're wrong. Although you control the notion of justice, I still have authority over contracts,” Zhongli replied. His eyes opened, much colder than before. The earth began to shake slightly—a warning of what he was still capable of.
“You got a taste of your desires. Now, you should head back to your newly settled nation. I don’t think after such conflicts, a war is what you would look to have. No?”
1K notes · View notes
vivalabunbun · 3 months
Text
An Encore of Betrayal
Summary: The devil with no sin nor memory and he who has held them all for centuries.
Word Count: 21.8k (get cozy)
Tags: Neuvillette x Fem!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic, SMUT, NSFW, Historical AU, Fantasy AU?, Reincarnation AU, cursed!neuvillette, dragon!neuvillette, reincarnated!Reader, human!reader, Fluff, a lot of fluff, Melusines doing their best to play cupid, ex-lovers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers? ANGST, he's trying his best, dragon x human dynamics, Monsterfucking (two... I have no defense), cunnilingus(long tongue), marking, size kink? breeding kink, heat, overstimulation, hate sex? kinda?, slightly unhealthy dynamics (past life), dubcon, trust issues, immortal x mortal, slightly possessive!neuvillette, slightly yandere!neuvillette, TW: mild mention of blood, TW: descriptions of drowning, sin, and sacrifice. TW: Trauma from betrayal, themes of resentment, Infertility.
Author's Note: Wanted to try out a historical fantasy from Neuvillette's pov. I struggle with fantastical settings, so overlook any world-building confusion. Mihoyo won't give me his real name, and it's eating away at my sanity. Enjoy!
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Somewhere deep beneath the waves, away from the omnipotent watch of false divinity, lies a village. A bustling home carved into an outcast cove nestled under the cover of suppressive tides.
One littered with tiny houses surrounding an impressive estate modeled much like the ones seen in those novels abandoned from capsized ships. 
Would you believe that such a place exists? 
Decorated with curious trinkets which sunk beneath the surface which had forsaken them, kept in this cove for so long that it was challenging to remember the azure hues. 
Ornaments decorating the expanse of this once lonesome cave, almost enough to conceal its true origin: A prison.
A fool sentenced to this penitentiary masquerading as a home, now affectionately named ‘Merusea Village’. 
Within that attentively built estate, a looming figure stood in front of a wall lined with neatly organized novels, lilac eyes running along the titles printed along each spine. 
A collection saved from watery abandonment after falling overboard by the curious hands of Melusines. Amassed throughout the years until the shelves of this humble library were without vacancy. 
Stopping a finger on a spine, he decided on the novel to pass the ever-plenty time bestowed upon him. He’s aware that each book amongst these shelves has been thumbed through by him.
But with enough years, the recollection of the contents contained within each one tends to become foggy. 
It's fate that the novel selected in his hands just so happens to be a collection of tales.
Humans have many strange behaviors, one might even call them traditions. One particular tradition mortals seem to indulge in often is that of storytelling. 
Lilac eyes browse through the pages, refreshing himself on the tale held within its faded covers. 
----------
There once was a lovely kingdom amidst lush pastures and fertile lands where the townspeople sang and danced under the bright sunlight.
But one day the sun disappeared, concealed behind ashen clouds that cried a lonesome hymn, plaguing the unfortunate kingdom with rain.
The origin of the rain stemmed from the lonesomeness of a great dragon of water.
Thus, to stop the rain, the king sent out a princess to the dragon, declaring that the kingdom gates wouldn’t welcome her back if rain fell from the sky. She was sent off in a white gown. 
Down below a flooded loch, the princess was offered to the weeping dragon. Looking up the princess saw the sorrowful pools in the beast’s eyes. 
‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, why do you cry?’ She asked.
Intrigued by the bravery of the young princess, the dragon answered: ‘Because I am lonely, I have no brethren left.’
Feeling pity the princess responded: ‘Hydro Dragon, oh Hydro Dragon, don’t cry. I will be lonely with you.’ 
So the princess befriended a lonesome dragon under the hymn of softening rain, with his loneliness soothed, the sun peeked back out from ashen clouds. But one day, pitiful tears fell from her eyes and the princess wept so bitterly. 
The dragon could not bear seeing those tears stain her cheeks. He offered her pearls, jewels, and gold. Yet those bitter tears still fell, tainting the pristine water. 
‘Beloved princess, why do you cry so bitterly?’ He implored. 
‘I long to go home, I miss my kingdom,’ she revealed. 
But she could not go home, for if she stepped foot away from the riverside the lonesome rain would start again. The colossal dragon could not leave the loch, but he could not bear seeing those bitter tears.
So he relented, telling the princess a secret. A secret all dragons buried deep within: His true name. 
‘If you speak my name, my true name, then I can grant you one wish. But be careful, for there can only be one wish.’ The dragon whispered. 
‘Do you wish to return to your kingdom, beloved princess?’ He asked. 
The princess was silent for a long while, weighing the choices in her hand. She longed to return home, but she also longed to be by the side of her kind dragon. 
Confident in her decision, she beckons the great dragon closer, until her lips could reach the side of his large head where his ear lay. After whispering his name, she tells the beast her wish. 
‘I wish for you to become my prince, so we can return to the kingdom together, that way you won’t ever be lonely again.’
A clever wish he grants with a nod. Scales and claws shedding away until a handsome prince stood in front of her. Thus, hand in hand they returned from the loch to the warm welcome of the kingdom. 
And they lived happily ever after. 
----------
Ah, so it was that tale. 
Judging from the age of the novel, he guesses it must be a rendition of a rendition.
Words and events twisted, embellished, and simplified. Until it became nothing more than a mere fable told to entertain the wandering minds of children. 
A beloved tale of a maiden who got a dragon to give up his grand authority, stopping the flood of vengeance from drowning Fontaine.
This is what the origin of his damnation has turned into. The tales of the heroine’s feats sung and written throughout the narrative of time, passing from one generation’s lips to another’s ears. 
However, he supposes this is expected of humans. It’s their tradition of storytelling, after all, mending a fallacy into a tale palatable to their conscious.
Or perhaps, these embellishments were added to compensate for the hollows caused by the frailty of mortal memory. 
Patching over the holes with flowery words to distract readers from inaccuracies that were only compounded upon from the last. 
Fontainians who came to believe in it, must not have known the dragon all that well, considering that they thought the proud dragon would bow to the whims of a meek human.
Placing a secret so simply in her hands at the mere sight of tears.
Did Fontainians not realize that the land they reside on once belonged solely to dragons? How preposterous it is that a sovereign couldn’t set foot upon his own land. Or did they forget why he couldn’t? 
What a naive ending, did mortals truly believe that blood and water could dwell together without consequences? That simply wishing the dragon to become a human could resolve all troubles?
To overwrite everything with a ‘happily ever after’ which never happened?
Regardless of his reservations toward such fables, the Melusines always seem eager to gather around for such stories. The towering figure lacked the conviction to deny such requests. 
From down the hall approaching closer came the pitter-patter of steps, he turned his tall frame toward the direction of the sound just as a few familiar faces revealed themselves from the library entrance. 
“Monsieur Neuvillette! Come quickly! A human! A human appeared!” A group of Melusines tugs on the fabric of his slacks while pointing toward the phenomenon. 
A mortal in this domain? A cavern hidden deep under the land and waters where the warmth of the sun couldn’t grace. How did such a being find their way into this sanctum?  It’d be best that he alleviates their worries. 
“Please lead the way.” Neuvillette closes the novel, returning it to the confines of its shelf. 
His swift movements in time with the melusines’ frantic patter as they made their way out from his estate.
Soon the tops of the Melusines’ cozy homes of Merusea Village came into view, as did the murmuring of a distraught crowd. 
“Excuse me.” His steps made their presence known, their heads perked up to look at him before parting a path for Neuvillette. 
Upon the maroon pasture of Merusea Village was a blanket of silk and woven lace, snowy fabric surrounding the still figure of a human.
Treading closer Neuvillette kneels down while reaching out a hand, weaving his fingers under the fabric which obscures the mortal’s face. 
“We found her while gathering offerings from the waters … Is she…” The anxious murmuring quiets to await his verdict. 
“She has a pulse,” he reveals, fingertips detecting wisps of warmth along cold skin. 
It was faint, but his attentive eyes caught onto the slow movement of her chest. The snowy fabric had greedily drunk up the essence of the sea. Cursing her to sink deeper below the tides. 
To leave a mortal in such a state would be too cruel of a fate. 
Neuvillette moves his hand to support her covered head as his other arm gathers the damp fabric under her legs.
Carefully, he stands back to his full height, cradling her limp body in his hold. An audience of fretful gazes follow his motions.
“Do not fret, she only requires some rest and a change of clothing, I’ll take her to my abode. Could you gather some cloth to dry down her body?” Neuvillette’s melodic voice just barely above a whisper, so as not to stir the figure in his arms.
His expression softens to offer the compassionate creatures some reassurance. With firm nods the Melusines scatter, determination alight in their bright irises as they sought the necessary items to care for their newfound guest. 
The dampness of the heavy fabric seeps into his own attire as Neuvillette turns the knob to grant him entry into his abode. 
Quietly ambling through the spacious halls, the master bedroom came into view. Neuvillette lays the limp form upon his sheets, ensuring that her head rests slowly upon the soft pillows. 
Just as her figure sinks into the mattress, a chorus of metallic clinks catches his attention. Glancing down her body his lilac eyes discover the origin.
A pair of silver shackles encased around her ankles, the unforgiving metal digging into defenseless flesh. 
Gingerly, he takes one ankle into his grasp to better observe the shackles.
This time he couldn’t fight against the deep frown as it debuted upon his lips. His eyes hone on how tightly those heavy chains were bound along the flesh. 
Soon the unforgiving metal crashes down to the floor, he soothes the freed skin with his thumb while checking for any other possible wounds. 
Lilac eyes travel up to her face for any sign of discomfort, only to be reminded that her face was concealed behind a shroud of lace. 
How uncomfortable it must be to have a cold piece of fabric to cover one’s face. Neuvillette places her ankle back onto the bed.
His large hands took hold of the damp veil to lift it from her resting frame, revealing to his draconic eyes for the first time their face. 
The veil stays suspended in the air as his hands cease all motion. Hardened gaze tracing over her features, the curve of her cheeks, the slope of her nose, and the structure of her face.
Repeated details he had long seared into his consciousness. 
Within those mortal tales, there’s a wide variety of beasts and fearsome creatures. Dragons were depicted as such omnipotent beasts. But there’s a monster all other beast falls secondary to, the devil. 
They didn’t possess the sharpest talons nor the largest fangs. No, what made them so horrifying is that they dawned the most enchanting faces. 
He’s staring at it right now. The face of the devil who deceived him. 
Those gods must be laughing at him right now. Those false idols, with their capricious fate and whims, who once must’ve shook hands with you to carry out their schemes all those years ago. 
The scheme which imprisons him here in this humiliating form of the mortal creatures those false idols loved so much. 
Yes, a devil, that must be what you are. For how did a meek mortal trick a dragon who once held the full authority of the tides?
His chest expands with a deep breath before a long exhale leaves him. Ah, yes that must be why this white gown has appeared before him again. He removes the senseless scrap of lace, checking once more for signs of discomfort before he turns his body away. 
Finding himself outside the threshold of his bedroom as he closes the door behind him. He should wait here for the Melusines to arrive with a change of clothes and towels. 
It’d buy him enough time to steadily return the tempestuous loch to a subdued ripple in a pond. His chest expands once more with a deep inhale. 
A second cruel rendition unfolding once more in the narrative of time.  
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The crisp turn of a page resounds through the room. Lilac eyes glanced up from the text every so often to watch the steady rises and falls of your chest from his vantage point of a wooden chair pulled up to the bedside. 
Heavy lashes still shut just as they were the day your drenched figure was pulled from the tides by merciful hands. 
The journey to wisdom is lined with mistakes, mistakes providing teachings one must ingrain into their very being if they don’t wish to repeat such blunders again.
Just as how a burn seared into skin is a forever reminder that fire indeed burns indiscriminately. 
A scar ingrained deep within him cries out for Neuvillette to withdraw from the fire which scorned him so long ago. 
Alas, it’s duty which has sat him down beside your sleeping form. You’re the first guest this cove has seen in a long time, thus bringing you under the responsibility of the host, Neuvillette himself. 
A stir brings his stoic gaze back away from his thoughts. Your chest rises with a long inhale as leaden lashes flutter open.
The cadence of your breaths begins to rise as more of your senses return to you. Fatigue evident in each slow drag of breath. 
“Ah, I see you’ve awoken.” Neuvillette observes. 
Your muscles momentarily forget their fatigue as your head snaps toward the owner of the deep voice. Eyes now wide and alert. 
“My apologies, it wasn’t my intention to startle you.” He casts a glance toward the steaming bowl on the nightstand. 
He could feel the weight of your stare travels up his figure. Do you perhaps remember him? Can you recall his lush snowy locks streaked with azure? Irises that held an all too familiar hue, a multitude of lilac shades much like a field of lavenders.
Does this ‘you’ remember the dragon you fooled? 
“W-who are you?...” Your gaze was too cowardly to meet his.
Ah, have the cycle of death and rebirth washed those sins and memories?
The tonality of your trembling voice filled with puzzlement instead of recognition. He should’ve expected this much.
This you is nothing more than a stranger who shares the face of a devil. 
“Where am I?” Another question leaves those lips in the absence of a response. 
Just give him a moment, allow him to pacify the surging torrent within so their bitterness doesn’t seep into his words. 
“You’re in our village!” A cheery voice joins the conversation. 
Two pairs of eyes land upon a short figure with a pair of pastel horns. You blink once, then twice, then slowly thrice. Inquisitive eyes stared right back at you. 
“W-what… are you?” Instinct commanding your body to retract deeper into the sheets. 
A sharp cough halts your actions, drawing your attention back to the man as he lowers his hand down from his lips. 
“She’s a Melusine, they prefer to be addressed using she/her pronouns,” he elucidates, an ever so subtle chastise in his tone. 
“Oh…” You advert your gaze again, shame creeping onto your cheeks from your unintentional discourtesy. 
A few breaths of silence follow, he observes you studying everything but the two figures just beside the bed.
Your fingers soothing over the soft cotton nightgown against your skin, a change from that restrictive and ornate dress. 
“We, Melusines, helped you change out of that wet dress. Big sister Sedene said you’d get sick if we left you in that.” 
It looks like your diverted gaze wasn’t as subtle as you originally thought. Sheepishly you extend your gratitude. 
“Thank you…” Your words draw out, a brow quirked as your stare reminded on her short form. 
“Kiara!” She points to herself with a mitten hand. 
“Thank you, Kiara.” You finish. 
Her mittened hand then gestures to the towering man beside her. 
“This is Monsieur Neuvillette! He’s the one who carried you here,” she announces. 
“T-thank you, Monsieur Neuvillette.” You could only gather the courage to glance at the wall behind him. 
“Just Neuvillette is fine,” his tone melodic and calm. “Are you able to sit up?”
Nodding your head, you attempt to fight through the fatigue of your muscles. Neuvillette and Kirara offer their assistance, his firm hands guiding your body up as Kirara adjusts the pillows to support your back. 
Once you were situated, he reached for the bowl placed down earlier. A light clink sounds out from a spoon clattering about the porcelain dish. You glance at the contents, noting the clear amber broth. 
“This should be kind on your stomach while providing you with some much-needed hydration and nutrients.” He holds out the soup. 
A quivering hand attempts to reach up for the bowl, only for muscles to lose to fatigue as your arm limply falls back down to your side. Your strength has yet to return. 
Another clink from the spoon resounds in the room as it gets taken into the grasp of an attentive hand. He holds out a spoonful of the warm soup, but your lips remain shut as a skeptical gaze meets his. 
“Please forgive this inconvenience, but it’s best that you eat something to regain your strength.” The spoon remains unmoving in his hand. 
There’s a rumbling stir within him. A voice snarls into his ear, interrogating him as to why his hand is feeding the very devil who once bit it. 
“If you don’t eat you won’t get better.” Kiara’s eyes are riddled with concern as she observes your sealed lips. 
That was his rebuttal to that snarl.
The Melusines simply don’t wish to see a human in such a pitiful state. Blissful in their ignorance of events that conspired long before their birth. 
 Dignity overpowered by the guilt of seeing such pure eyes marred with worry. 
Soon your lips part, accepting the spoonful of broth delicately offered by him. After he observes you swallowing the first sip, Neuvillette holds out another spoonful. You part your lips again.
Neuvillette overrides the clamorous warnings of his instincts with the duty of being a ‘good host’, bringing another sip to your delicate lips.
 
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With a regular diet of warm broth with servings of Bulle Fruit on the side, you were soon able to pick up the spoon yourself. The fatigue that plagued your bones finally leaves, allowing you to support your body off the mattress which had your shape imprinted into it. 
The Melusines, seemingly born infatuated with humanity, would often gather about your bed.
They were curious about you just as you were about them. To them, you’re the creature from those fairytales he’s read them. 
In exchange for your recollections of warm Summer days and descriptions of lush lilac fields swaying in a gentle breeze, they reveal more about this village.
About how the estate you were currently residing in was refurbished by their own-mittened hands, taking inspiration from the various books depicting what human abodes looked like. 
The beds, drapes, and even rugs are all arranged by them to create a lovely abode. A drastic change to the worn and rampaged shell it once was before their meddling.
Perhaps if he never filled their naive minds with those tales, they wouldn’t be enamored with you and humanity. 
Or maybe it’s the vibrance of your smile that drew their naive souls closer. A warmth like a flickering candlelight beckoning a moth closer.
What are the odds that the hands of fate stayed so faithful to the details of a heroine from so long ago? 
From your image to your bewitching mannerisms, and alluring voice, they’re all identical replicas. You and the ‘devil’ from that tale. 
Wisdom from a lesson learned long ago, he must not repeat the same mistake. He must not be enchanted by the same flame which scorned him. He must ensure a breadth between you and him, just as those tiresome voices call for. 
However, Neuvillette understands he has a responsibility as a host. Thus, he regularly checked on your condition, then when you were well enough to stretch your legs he accompanied you on strolls. Maintaining a respectable distance away. 
He guided you through the marble halls of the estate, showing the library and bath which were yours to access whenever you wanted.
Rooms illuminated with the muted glow of luminescence gems and pearls. Water sourced from a hidden freshwater spring. 
Impassive eyes observe yours as you look in awe at the facilities and commendations hidden deep under the tides. Were they comparable to the ones you’ve encountered back on the surface? 
This estate, these wide stone halls, those pearls and jewels once scattered about, were all made just to please the bitter tears of a mortal. Perhaps his first attempt was too subpar to quell the longing to return to the sunlight. 
But gauging from the glimmer reflecting off your eyes, it seems the Melusines attempt was satisfactory at least. 
Today’s stroll took you outside of the estate, Neuvillette accompanying you about a routine walk, watching from behind as your eyes scan the dim realm.
The lanterns lining the path of Melusine's home grace the maroon pastures and rocky walls in place of the faint wisps of sunlight offered by the depths of the sea. 
Very much expected for a village beneath the waves and earth. Were you reminiscing about the warm grace of the sun you felt up there?
It’s not fair to compare the vast sky of the surface to their cavern hidden away from the eyes of the mortals, perhaps even the divine themselves. 
“Monsieur Neuvillette?” You began today’s attempt at a conversation. 
“Yes?” He hums in acknowledgment. 
He keeps sentences brief, but informative. Counters to your attempts at conversation. 
“I’m aware this might sound strange, but is there a dragon down here?” Turning back to face him.
His strides stop as a lull of silence falls over the both of you. The weight of his unshaken gaze upon your shoulders caused them to tense up.
Your hands find each other for comfort under his oppressive stare as he awaits the reason behind this odd inquiry. 
“W-well you see, Fontaine has been having awful weather for years now. Saltwater running crops and persistent heavy rain, it’s because the Hydro Dragon is crying from his loneliness. I was selected and offered as his bride, to stop the rain, that’s what The Oratrice instructed,” you babble out. 
“So…do you know where he is?” Sheepishly you glance up. 
The lilac hues of his eyes connect with yours as his lips remain unmoving. Staring into your eyes as he contemplates what you have just revealed to him. Your hands fumble together as you await his response.
“So humans are still telling that local legend…” He sighs. 
He has to rein it back. The torrent which threatens to brew within him. Deep breaths to remind himself about the nature of mortals. 
Humans are fickle and meek creatures who constantly yearn for something divine to worship, a figurehead to guide them in the turbulence of life.
When faced with hardship and destitution, they believe such concepts to be punishment from above. 
Thus, they invent traditions to appease those false idols. Going to great lengths in attempts to pacify those unseen forces, even if it meant sacrificing one of their own. 
Perhaps this was the trait of mortals that made them so favored by the usurpers, their naive devotion feeding into the greed of selfish gods.
Maybe that’s why those false idols uprooted the land that belonged to dragons. 
“I wonder just how far that fable has spread by now,” he sighs again.
His lashes flutter shut in exasperation as a huff leaves him. It was a moment before they flutter back open to hone in on you. There’s no use in keeping his identity from you any longer. 
“Do I seem lonely in your eyes?” Baritone voice steady and low. 
No sounds fall from your agape lips as your eyes reexamine his features, this time shamelessly ogling the peculiar details you’ve brushed off previously.
Do you notice it now? How his ears were a bit too pointed, or those two particular cerulean strands of ‘hair’ poking out from his snowy locks. 
As you study the specifics of his eyes, do you now comprehend the sharp dark pupils that cut through the multitude of lilac shades? Much like a shadow cutting through a field of lavenders. 
“You’re the Hydro Dragon,” you deduce. 
He nods in confirmation. Only causing your eyes to scan over him again as your mind reels back from this revelation. 
In those stories you’ve read back on the surface, how did they depict him? As a towering scaled beast with fangs and claws? Are you wondering why he’s not matching that description? 
“I’m aware that my current shape might not convey such a presence, ” he answers your unspoken question. 
He fights for his lips to remain stoic, not allowing the weight of a frown to pull them down. You don’t know, you don’t need to know, he reminds himself. 
A detail excluded from the pages of that tale, the ‘princess’ would only ever look at him, would only ever smile at him when a dragon took on this shape. A form which mirrors humans. 
In fact, she was so fond of this human shell of his that she cursed him to dwell within it for the rest of eternity. 
Neuvillette takes another deep breath, quelling the stir once more. You look like you had more questions. 
“So… does that mean the need for a bride is fictitious?” You clutch your hands tighter. 
Some years ago, the Melusines were born from spilled blood. A new generation of successors of the brethren he once forsaken. Making this prison much less lonesome, voiding the accuracy of the sentence in that tale. 
If that was the case, then why did the waters still rage? Why did the pittering of rain drown out all bird songs and tumults of perplexed citizens? Is there a way he could simplify the details missed by storytellers for generations? 
After that ‘happily ever after’, a dragon cursed his devil just as she cursed him. 
No, such expositions would be an unfair burden upon your shoulders. 
“It’s not fictitious.” Turning to gaze out at the depths of the underground realm, he takes a breath before continuing. 
“The land which your nation, Fontaine, resides on is stolen land,” he reveals. “More accurately all of what you know as ‘Teyvat’ was stolen from the dragons, my fellow brethren.” 
The furrow in your brows deepens as you listen on. 
“My brethren were banished to the depths for the sake of humanity. A dragon’s rage isn’t something that can be easily quelled.” He glances back at you. 
“A union between a dragon and a human, a show of peace between the two species. Even if the origins of this ritual have been embellished heavily, it serves the same purpose to pacify the ancient dragon’s rage,” he concludes. 
Neuvillette wonders if this tale was enough to satisfy your inquiry, if his attempt at the human practice was enough to simplify the events muddled and twisted by time.
Impassive eyes scan over your expression, not missing the glimmer ever so bright within. 
“So… has the rain stopped?” Your hands almost clasped together in prayer. 
He nods, the shine growing ever so luminous in those blameless irises, one he couldn’t resist the enchantment of. That all too familiar look in your eyes. 
“That’s good.” A slow smile made its appearance upon plush lips.
Ah. He remembers what that look was called, voices of recollection pulling him away from the edge. Just before he fell into bewitchment once more.
That look wasn’t relief, nor was it salvation. It's duty. He takes a slow and deep inhale. 
Just as it was all those years ago, the narrative of this tale did not stray away from the plot. He must be more careful. 
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There’s been a still lull engulfing the atmosphere down in a hidden cavern. So still in fact that walks amongst maroon patches of grass have stopped. Your body was well enough to explore the corners of the state without assistance. 
No reason for him to remain by your side throughout the day, and no reason for you to shadow him. 
Neuvillette and you keeping mostly to one’s self. It was just the natural progression of things. After all, the ritual had been completed and the tides had receded. You’ve served your duty once more. 
A foreign aroma was wafting through the estate, strange enough for Neuvillette to leave the library to investigate the origins of this aroma.
Steps slowing as the clacker of pots and pans becomes more distinct. The entrance of the estate kitchen comes into view, and he peers in to see a few familiar faces. 
“Oh? Monsieur!” Rhemia notices his presence. 
An assortment of vegetables, spices, and even some meats from fresh catches were spread about the table as a pan sizzling over a crackling fire.
Ingredients gathered from offering dropped down below the tides. The recent influx could be attributed to how the hymn of the rain has ceased. 
“Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette.” Your smile greets him. 
Ah, he’s found the explanation behind the foreign aroma and why the variety spread of ingredients was being utilized in a kitchen that was once mainly created just to match those diagrams drawn in novels. 
“I hope you don’t mind my use of the kitchen, I wanted something other than…Consomme Purete.” Wiping your hands with a rag. 
Yes, Consomme Purete.
It was the dish served when you had first woken up, a light but nutritious soup that was kind on your stomach. It had the right amount of hydration balanced with nutrients to sustain oneself, a perfect dish.
The only dish cooked in this kitchen, that was until today. 
Removing a pan from the heat, you carefully transfer the contents onto a plate then place the pan back on the wood stove.
The rich aroma caused an audience of bright-eyed stares from the Melusines to center upon the steaming plate. Their tails make their excitement clear as they gaze upon a dish they’ve never seen before. 
Was this a new passion of this life?... Or was it just one he never got the chance to witness?
Was this the devil before the role of a bride was forced upon her? A devil he’s never known, for all he saw was her performance to stop the deafening rain all those years ago.
His attention was brought back as the chime of cutlery against porcelain was heard, cooked veggies stabbed between the teeth of a fork.
Cupping a hand under the fork, your body leans down to the Melusine’s height, feeding them a bite of the fragrant dish. The wags of their tails increase in cadence as they chew. 
“This is Tasses Ragout, tasty isn’t it?” The corners of your lips curl as you watch their little heads nod eagerly. 
The suspicion melts from his gaze as he observes to the delight in their expressions, a few mitten hands tugging at the skirt of your gown for a bite. A giggle bubbles from your throat.
A scene mirroring that of a mother trying to appease the appetites of her ravenous young. 
Soon your eyes connect and he straightens his posture. Brushing away the nonsensical musing, lilac hue advert away momentarily to recompose themselves before returning. 
“Would you like a taste?” A fork offered in his direction, beckoning closer to take a bite. 
There’s a myth he’s read about, of a forbidden apple held out by the tempter of all tempters, an apple so red and lustrous it made any mouth salivate. 
“Thank you for the offer, however, I’ve already had my lunch.” He refrains. 
A bite from that forbidden fruit was the genesis of disgrace and banishment. A betrayal of commandments once promised. Neuvillette won’t be deceived again. 
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“Monsieur! Monsieur! Come look!” 
Mittened hands grasping upon his coat and gloved hands as a circle of Melusines guides him through the winding halls, anticipation amping their voices. 
There’s a chorus of giggles resounding through the halls, a joyous clamor of pattering steps against the marble floors.
The estate has been lively ever since your arrival in that white dress, a liveness which reaches his pointed ears even from behind closed doors. 
Regardless, he allows himself to be towed by their skipping steps. Leading him to a room he recognizes as a space where many fabrics and gowns were collected and stored.
Garments made with the intent to be sold to Fontainians, but their crates were capsized over by the ravenous tides. Saved from watery abandonment by curious hands. 
While this form of his could wear a few of those garments, the Melusines had statures much too short for pools of fabric to not drag along the ground. Thus, that collection of fabrics found themselves collecting dust. 
Their steps abruptly stop just at the threshold of the door, mittened hands pressed up against their lips signaling for him to remain silent.
Soon their sights glance into the room as he follows, lilac eyes opening ever so slightly wider as they process the scene in front of him. 
Evening gowns crafted by skilled tailors to be sold to Fontanian ladies, you had the right frame for those garments as well.
A trail of lustrous sapphire silk gathered behind your figure. The artistic stitching and pleating draping the silk around each curve of your body as if you were the only person meant to wear it. 
A few Melusines fussing about the silk train, ever so curious of humanity, they must’ve requested for you to dawn the gown.
Just as they often had requested for him to dawn those fickle suits and coats for their enjoyment.
It seems you bent to their childish whims just as he does. 
“How do you like it?” You ask your audience, twirling about in front of a mirror. 
It’s different from those hardier dresses for when you wandered about the village and estate, in comparison this dress was much less practical. 
“It’s beautiful, Madame!” Their round eyes were enamored.
“I’m glad, who knew you had such an aesthetic eye.” Your expression softens. 
Bending down to Carole’s height, you scooped her up. Cradling her as your forehead touches her horns gently.
“Thank you for such a lovely dress.” Placing tender pats along her head, careful to not disturb her horns and hair. 
Carole leans into your touch as your smile widens. Twirling once more with her in your arms, giggles ringing throughout the room.
Until your head peeked up, finally aware of the silent spectator just behind the door frame. 
“Oh, hello Neuvillette,” you greet him with a smile he doesn’t return.
A tense lull creeps in, and a chill begins to mix with the quiet atmosphere. Lilac eyes pass over your form as Carole remains sat in your arms.
“Monsieur! Isn’t Madame pretty? Look!” Cheery and oblivious voices chime returning the warmth to the air. 
Mitten hands release your skirt as they skitter toward his towering figure. Pride shines in their beaming smiles, awaiting validation of their handy work.
Steadfast eyes lowering themselves to the level of their short statures until the sharp edges gradually dissipate. 
“A fine effort indeed.” A gloved hand extends to rest atop their heads. 
Patting their heads tenderly as they closed their eyes in contentment 
A warmth in those lilac hues, endearment no word could ever encapsulate fully. 
“Are they your daughters?” Your head slants to the side.
His body stills, strictness reinstated in those violet irises just as they met yours. Studying that look within your polite smile, one which didn’t seem to reach your eyes. 
Gloved hand ceasing all movement, his concentration now elsewhere. That expression ghosting your face, what does it mean? 
“My apologies, was it too impudent of a question?” Your gaze adverts away, searching for reprieve in this heavy hush.
A deep breath as he formulates his response. 
“I don’t share blood with them if that’s what you’re inquiring. However, they are the successors of my brethren.” 
“Oh, I see,” you hum. 
 Neuvillette returns to patting their heads, while you readjust your hold on Carole. Subtly bouncing her, while turning back to face the standing mirror.
Casting a glance, he could discern the softness returning to that polite smile. Yet, the dragon has yet to unravel that luster in your irises. 
An audience of bright eyes switches between the Monsieur and Madame. 
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“Bring these to her, you should greet the Madame!” Tiny hands push against Neuvillette’s back. 
The traitorous clicks of his shoes against marble expose his approach.
Your head peers up from the book resting upon your lap, in the midst of reading a tale aloud to an audience. 
Just in time to catch the tall figure of Neuvillette emerging into the library at the behest of the Melusines. 
Lilac eyes meet yours ever so briefly before his gaze averts elsewhere. Gloved hand adjusting a bundle hidden a broad back, brings the other hand up to clear his throat. 
“The Melusines found these when retrieving some offerings from the water, I believe you’ll enjoy them.” He presents their trinket. 
A simple collection of dainty petals clustered together, pastel hues contrast against vivid virescent leaves. A quaint ribbon tied around the stems holding the bunch together held out in front of your face.
The recipient stares in round-eyed astonishment at the fragrant blooms before a smile melts into your lips. 
“Thank you.” You accept the bouquet from his hand. 
Admiring the rustic arrangement and the saccharine aroma as the Melusines sat around you leaned in closer to catch a whiff too. 
“These are called Pluie Lotus up on the surface, they smell nice right?” Giggling lightly as you held the bouquet closer to their noses. 
Grin ever present upon your lips as your soft eyes watch their marvel of such simple weeds. A bloom foreign to this realm abandoned by the sunlight. 
There’s subtle slack in his posture, a budding smile just about to unfold just as your head peers back up. Every fiber in Neuvillette’s being tenses, goosebumps slithering up his nape. 
Frozen there only able to witness your eyes study back and forth the hues of his irises and the periwinkle color tinting the fragile petals.
He watches an epiphany light up in your widened eyes as the bouquet was lifted higher, turning back to face him. 
Don’t. Don’t say the words he knows are hanging off the tip of that honeyed tongue. 
“They are the same lovely color as your eyes, Neuvillette.” You beam at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling from the stretch of your lips. 
His posture returns to its rigid and upright state, a hand hidden from view balls up into a fist.
A sharpness threatening to break through leather confines and into his palm, as if they were attempting to grapple the surging torrent stirred up within himself. 
Why? Why was this line from a script being recited word for every damn word? All said with that saccharine smile plastered over those wicked lips? 
Indecipherable eyes narrow ever so slightly before he catches himself. Reining in the torrent just before it seethed out.
He clears his throat again to swallow back the bitterness. 
“Do excuse me, please return to your reading session,” he utters his parting. 
Promptly turning to return to his secludedness, stepping past the Melusines gathered by his side.
Swift strides through the empty halls leaving you to your peace and him to his peace, just as it should’ve been. Much to the pouts of a disappointed audience. 
However, he didn’t have the mind to contemplate their discontent. Not when these rabid bellows drown out every other thought in their rancor.
Like a sea starved for vengeance, ravenous to settle a debt against those vile gods and their beloved creations. 
A brass knob was abruptly twisted, hinges squealing in surprise as at the force as Neuvillette shuts it behind himself.
Ragged breathes resounding through the reprieve of his bedroom. Away from innocent bystanders and the devil who showed her face again after all these centuries for an encore.  
Has he not been humiliated enough? He tugs at his cravat, freeing himself from the fickle decoration constricted about his neck in this already imprisoning body.
A form which binded him no matter how violently talons and fangs clawed and chewed, unable to leave a singular dent upon this damn curse. 
This was humiliating enough, bound to this cove that separated him from the sea which cries for their sovereign.
He once believed this penitentiary was obscured away from the peeking eyes of capricious gods. Perhaps, he’s wrong. 
Why is this fantasy being played out right in front of his eyes now after all these years?
To have you by his side, to have you reside in the home he craved out and inlaid pearls into, to see you smile and cradle young against your bodice. It’s insulting. 
Because this was all he ever wanted. This was all he had ever wanted. 
The lonesome dragon only ever yearned for a maiden’s endearment. He once believed she adored him back just the same. 
Because while she lay within his arms under silken covers, her bare skin pressed against his mortal shape, her enchanting eyes always regarded him with such tenderness as her delicate hand stroked his cheek. 
A glimmer he once believed was love.  
The tale written along the parchment implied that the ‘princess’ loved the dragon. However, that was inaccurate. She never did. 
For if she loved him, then she wouldn’t have deceived him.
She wouldn’t have ever whispered his secret to the town’s folk. Those foul creatures who then used his secret, which was once reserved solely for ‘you’.
Why? That simple question taunted him for decades as he rotted in this mocking solitude.
Why did ‘you’ yearn for the sun more than him? Was his love not enough to replace the warmth of a star? Was the home he made not enough when compared to the extravagance of humanity? 
Or was it because blood and water, no matter how much they intertwine and mix, could never produce wine? 
If… if the Melusines had been born just a few centuries earlier, then would you have been satisfied by his side? An answer he could already discern.
 Because after his decades of solitude within these deridingly hushed walls, he finally accepted the truth. 
 She loved her people, they took up all the space of her heart, leaving no room for a prideful leviathan.
What a clever plan it all was, to distract a sovereign from his duty, cleansing stolen land with a flood of vengeance, by sending a maiden.
A woman so bewitching, so enchanting, and so lovely, that a proud dragon couldn’t resist bending to her whims. Spilling the secret hidden deep within him into her ear. 
Abandoning his true form to be confined in the shape she favored the most. Then lured up to the surface, suspicions obstructed by the dazzlement of a false welcome from the nation of Fontaine. 
Unaware until the scorching knife was already lodged in his back. Using the secret he had only ever told you, those meek creatures of the usurpers wished:
‘For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides’. 
What a clever ploy, a masterly crafted master plan. Did that Oratrice bestow it upon mortals? Or was it your own little scheme? A devil in human skin who must’ve been enlisted by the god themselves. 
 That day when he was chained by that loch, you didn’t even bother to grace him with your presence.
You cruel, cruel devil whose heart only had room for her fellow citizens of Fontaine, whose eyes only ever glimmered with duty. 
Neuvillette had finally comprehended the truth, he had made peace with the disgrace he brought upon himself. 
So why did those vile false gods dangle you back in his face? They had already taken fragments of his authority.
Was his torment entertaining to them? 
Lungs shaking with unsteady breaths, he could feel the pricks of scales dotted along his skin only for this body to swiftly reject it. A turmoil of draconic influence constrained by a mortal curse. 
Like a beast kept in a cage much too small for it. If Neuvillette wishes for this agitation to cease, he must cease the stirred emotions. 
 Emotions don’t settle quickly once agitated like sand attempting to settle at the bottom of violent tides. He paces his shuddery inhales, biding in the solitude of his room until the storm dissipates. 
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To avoid the placid lake within him from thrashing violently to the woes from the throb of a wound which has yet to scar over, Neuvillette found it best to avoid your presence. 
The lanterns outside the Melusine’s homes had long gone out as they followed their routine bedtime.
The expanse of the cavern dimmed to near blackness, the small creatures all tucked away soundly in their beds. A hushed ambiance provides a suitable environment for reflection. 
His steps flatten the grass underneath as they accompany his strides with their rustling.
The absence of light had never bothered him, it’s within his nature to detest it. Any beast would withdraw away from the mere image of fire. 
The rustle of the grass halts, a wispy aroma of smoke wafts towards him. It doesn’t take long to identify the origin. Only a small flicker broke through the shadows, candlewick fostering only a weak flame.
But it was enough to fend the shadows away from your frame. 
The flame’s light caught on each subtle ripple of the pond you were kneeling over.
The seemingly unremarkable pool served as the sole entrance and exit to Merusea Village. Where the Melusines traveled through to gather food, fresh water, and trinkets swallowed up by the waves. 
Cold waters catch the bitter droplets of your pained eyes in the reflection of the ripples upon the surface, the distorted silhouette of a weeping devil. 
An unspoken gospel revealed to draconic pupils. 
Under the rich aromas wafting from the kitchen, behind the diligently tailored gowns, and hidden in the cadence of your voice as you read tales aloud, laid the yearning for the rays of a bright star. 
You’re human, a creature fleeting and meek by nature. Blood yearns to be with blood just as every drop of rain yearns to return to a cloud. 
A sharp rustle of grass under a heavy step jolts your hunched-over posture straight, head whipping around to face the uninvited audience.
Once those weeping eyes recognize the brooding figure in front of them, your face adverts away from his direction. Shame evident upon your expression. 
A concerned hand reaches out only to retract away, contrition marring his shut lips as Neuvillette diverts his eyes too.
Fire burns indiscriminately, even the dancing flame of a candle can sear its mark upon skin. Neuvillette knows this all too well, for the lesion he received from embracing that flame once still festers even after all these years.  
However, lilac eyes pan back towards the orange glow illuminating your melancholic face. Warm hues contrast against the wet trails down your cheeks. There’s an ache more agonizing than a festering wound. 
His steps advanced closer until he was knelt down by your slump frame. A benevolent touch lands upon your shoulder. Guiding you away from the taunting waters and into his arms, hiding your face in his broad shoulder. 
 Offering you a semblance of warmth in a coven shunned from the grace of gentle sunlight.
With your face away from his gaze, the cacophony of your sobs returns, digging your fingers into the folds of his dress shirt.
Echoed back mockingly by the cold cavern walls.
Perhaps a foolish dragon has yet to learn his lesson, still lured in that the brilliant light of a flame. 
A gentle hand traces up along your back, softly brushing your hair away to reveal the skin of your nape to his sharp pupils.
Honed in upon untainted skin, the courts of rebirth may have removed the proof of your damnation, but not the hex itself. 
Or maybe, a foolish dragon feels some responsibility for being the one to curse you to this fate. 
A mark once imprinted upon your nape by a lonesome dragon, a heavy oath sworn to you engrained into the very fabric of your soul amidst the first rendition.
One which then became the cursed chains that sunk you under the unforgiving waters.
It’s said that love is heavy, a weight greater than the density of water. A heaviness which could sink anything and everyone under salty tides. 
A heaviness originating from this accursed prison where a disgraced being resided.
Even as the earth above welcomed new generations as they said goodbye to bygone times. 
The solitude of a fool turning into ravenous waves which seeped into soil until its appetite was satiated by the return of its beloved treasure.
It’s his fault that the tides stole you from the sunlight. 
The courts of rebirth had already forgiven you of this burden, not a single memory remaining of that tale.
What right does he have to place it back upon you? There’s no point in punishing one for a sin that had been cleansed by the tides of time.
You didn’t deserve to be held away from the warmth of a benevolent sun.
To have been dragged down below to these depths. To have been stolen away from the warmth of the sun by the command of fickles gods and ancient grudges.
It’s much too severe of a sentence for you, someone who didn’t deserve to repent for a sin that wasn’t truly yours. 
Is it okay for his hands to wipe away your tears when this cursed dragon was the cause of your agony?
Even if it’s wrong, Neuvillette holds you closer. Even if he didn’t have the right, he pressed your face in his shoulder. Allowing the vehemence of your tears to scorch his skin as you buried your cries into him. 
Glancing at the pool you had been leaning over, he watches as the ripples of the surface taunt you and him the same.
Two beings whose bodies couldn’t embrace the tides. Two cursed beings who’ve been trapped in repeated play. 
“It seems you’re bound to this prison as well.” He scorns those gods and ancient grudges, but he scorns himself the most.
Confined behind a human face and a human body, a traitor who’s lost his birthright over the waters who couldn’t welcome him.
How can a cursed dragon quell those choking sobs of yours? How can he atone for his selfish sin?
Neuvillette takes a deep breath just your tears continue to soak his skin. Steeling his resolve, he meditates on the one resolution he can offer you. 
“Fontainians still tell a tale about a princess who wished a dragon to become a prince, yes?” He begins. 
After a pause filled with hiccups and shaky breaths, you nod your head as an answer. 
“It was when she spoke the dragon’s true name that he granted her one wish,” he recounts the tale, feeling the trembles of your shoulders. 
“That part of the story isn’t fictitious,” he reveals.
Voices from the depths of his rationality whisper for him to stop, to expand no more upon this secret of his brethren. Clamorous warnings to a traitor to not repeat his past transgressions. 
However, he obeys no edict from the heavens or origins. Not when an unjust punishment caused such heart-wrenching sobs. 
“Names hold great significance to dragons. So much so, to whoever learns their true name, a wish can be granted.” 
Slowly, your tear-stained face pulls away from his crinkled dress shirt. Finally meeting his lilac gaze. He notes the bewilderment which surrounds his reflection in your eyes. 
“Is… your name not ‘Neuvillette’?” You inquire. 
“It’s a surname bestowed upon me by the mortals of the land.” 
“Then… What is your name?” A glimmer of optimism ever so subtly debuts in your eyes. 
He could not tell you. No matter how beautifully that light shines, this was one ordinance he couldn’t ignore. All he could do was glance away as he shakes his head. Unable to bear the sight of that light extinguishing. 
“That is what you must find for yourself.” 
Perhaps this is his defiance of the plot which has been unraveling for so long. His attempt to step off that circular path, searching for a different end. 
The silent audience of fate watching on with bemusement to where this rendition will lead. 
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“Oh?”
“Oh?”
What a peculiar occurrence, Neuvillette was just about to exit his study when he found himself just a breath’s width away from you. Instinctively, he takes a step back behind the threshold of the doorway.
Passive eyes studying your form, you must’ve been standing there for a while. A hand held up intending to knock on the oak door returns to your side as you stare at the floor. 
“Is there something you need assistance with?” He continues to study you. 
Lilac eyes observe as your fingers clasp together, a common habit of mortals when nervous, if he recalls the contents of a book correctly. Another minute passes before you take a deep breath. 
“Is your name Guillaume?” You peer up. 
Ah, so this is what you wished to inquire about.
The secret revealed to you that day beside an exit neither he nor you could cross. Guillaume, a name befitting of nobility. But unfortunately, not for a dragon. 
He responds with a shake of his head, expression stiffening as he watches the corners of your lips drop ever so slightly. 
“Oh…”
It seems his existence brings nothing but a frown upon those soft lips, Neuvillette felt it’s best to retreat from your sight. 
This attempt was evidence of your determination to return to the embrace of a warm star.
It wouldn’t be right for him to interfere, despite those vile voice whispers murmuring from the depth of his mind. It wouldn’t be fair to you. 
It’s best to maintain this distance between his hand and yours, for your sake and his. 
Which begs the question, why were you still standing here in front of him? 
“Is that all you wished to inquire?” Neuvillette hopes the Melusines will lift your spirits after he withdraws. 
“Actually…” You began. “I made some soup and if you haven’t had lunch yet, would you like to try some?” 
Although his stoic face might not reflect it, he’s positively baffled. Were ‘you’ always this enthusiastic about food?
The devil he knew before would view the freshest catches and clearest waters offered by a dragon with blasé reactions. 
You used to recoil away from the fishes and meats he held out to you, they were only ever touched once he charred them over a fire. 
Then again the kitchen back then was much more barren than the present, cabinets now decorated with bottles of fragrant spices and herbs. 
Was it just a difference in palate? To reject such an invitation would be to squander a precious opportunity for investigation. 
“The pleasure would be all mine.” He matches your strides as the two of you traverse toward the kitchen. 
Settling down in a chair at a wooden table, Neuvillette watches as you ladle some soup into a bowl. Following your form as you set the bowl down in front of him. A pleasant aroma accompanies the steam emitting from the bowl. 
“It’s Fontainian Onion Soup.” You hand a spoon over. 
“Thank you.” He takes the utensil and scoops a hearty serving of the rich soup.
A distinct flavor of caramelized onions and the creaminess of cheese. The broth had been thickened with a bit of flour and the cheese added to the heavy mouth feel. 
This dish certainly expresses the flavor preferences of humans… but could such a thick broth really be considered soup? 
“Do you like it?” Your head tilts to the side as he feels your inquisitiveness. 
Dabbing a napkin over his lips, he clears his throat. 
“A fine dish indeed. Although increasing the liquid content and reducing the amount of fat could improve it,” he advises. 
A hush falls over the kitchen, nothing but the occasional crackle of a fire filling the space. 
“Oh… I’ll keep that in mind.” Your voice was restraining something. 
As you turn away, Neuvillette catches the subtle shakes of your shoulders. 
Ah, has he caused offense? He recalls how cooking and food preferences amongst humans tend to be a sore spot for most, some books going as far as to claim critics as attacks on one’s pride. 
You had taken time out of your day to prepare a bowl for him, and he gave senseless comments in return. 
“Ah, but it’s delicious regardless, thank you.” He has to remedy this situation. 
The shakes of your shoulders increase, as a hand covers your lips. 
“Thank you, Monsieur.” Your lips seem to be trying to stifle something. 
After finishing your sentence, your lips pressed tighter together. He could see the corners twitching as they tried their best to remain neutral.
Before he could get another word in, you excused yourself. Leaving him in front of the warm soup. 
In that moment, Neuvillette vows to himself that even if you were to hand him a piece of charcoal he’ll swallow it without a single complaint. 
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“Is your name Édouard?” 
Your voice causes him to turn his attention away from the pages of a book this quiet evening.
You stood just off to the side of the bookshelf where he was browsing, a candle illuminating the curiosity held in your eyes. Presenting a name likely discovered from those very same shelves.
Dirges ring from the corners of his mind, warning him not to allow the light to approach so close.
However, where is a shadow supposed to withdraw to when the light seeks him?
Just as how the tide couldn’t run away from the shore for long. Steadfast and constant attempts to unravel the secrets held by the ebbs and flows. 
Alas, he shakes his head again today, steeling his nerves as he catches the slight drop in your shoulders. Louis, Étienne, Théodore, and all those previous guesses, are names of heroes in Fontainian tales and epics. 
Popularized to the point many boys were named after them, but no parent would ever want to name their child after a dragon, a beast.
He doubts the pages of history have ever recorded his name. 
Your disheartened gaze couldn’t meet his, choosing to stare into the space beside him. He couldn’t fault you for that.
All your efforts of combing through old novels to search for obscured monikers just to be undone by a shake of a head.
He’s not sure how much longer he can endure being the origin of your melancholy.
“There’s a tear in your coat…” 
Your voice brings him out of his thoughts, he glances at the spot your eyes were honed on and spots the aforementioned tear. 
“Ah, I see. My apologies for being in such an unsightly state, ” he sighs. Lilac eyes ran along the jagged seams. 
He should go find a replacement from his wardrobe, but you still looked like you had something to say. 
“I can fix it if you’d like,” you offer. 
It’s just a garment, a piece of cloth that fell off some merchant’s ship and found itself in the walls of a cove. There were plenty of other garments that suffered the same fate, picked up by pairs of curious mittened hands. 
To replace this robe would be simple, but he notes the concealed eagerness in the fidget of your fingers. It must be rather dull for you down here for the past year, to the point you resorted to repairing old fabrics for enrichment. 
Regrettably, Neuvillette admits he’s not the best host. He’s got no talent for small talk nor does he know how to entertain you, thus he left it up to the Melusines. However, he could at least do this much as a host. 
“Thank you, I’d be grateful if you do.” 
His steps in time with yours through the halls as an old storage room comes into view. Still filled with collections of folded gowns and coats.
As he observes the room, you guide him to a pair of wooden chairs, a box filled with needles and threads beside one. You place the candle down on a nearby table.
“I’ll take your coat.” Holding out your hands. 
Following your request, he slips the robe off his shoulders, leaving him in a dress shirt and slacks.
Attentively you take the garment, settling down in a seat as your hand searches through the box. After your rummaging stopped, you glance back at him. 
“It won’t take long, please have a seat.” Gesturing toward the other chair. 
Lilac eyes scanned the aged seat, the door was just beyond it, it wouldn’t take much of an excuse for him to walk past the wooden threshold.
However, he pans back to your anticipatory gaze still awaiting. It wouldn’t be polite to deny such a simple gesture. 
Thus, he heeds your request, ambling toward the empty seat, he begins to settle down just as a rip resonates through the air.
His body halts all movement just as yours did, toward pairs of eyes trained on the sleeve that had been caught on the edge of a wooden table. 
The fibers of his shirt entangled with the jagged edges causing his sleeve to rip. Neuvillette truly has yet to acclimate to such fickle inconveniences. 
“Pfft!-” Quickly your hand covers your mouth. 
Lips pressed together as they tried their best to stifle the sounds threatening to leak out. Your shoulders shaking from the effort, just as they did that day in the kitchen.
Although his expression remains the same, he’s quite dumbfounded.
Unable to contain the sounds any longer, you erupt into a fit of giggles as he continues to stare. The bright chimes of your laughter fill the room, a melodic tune he had longed to hear for so long. 
“S-sorry, I just didn’t expect you to… be so clumsy.” Giggles fragment your sentence along with a brief pause to collect yourself. 
Clumsy. Yes, he remembers that word, an adjective you used to describe a dragon whenever he took on the shape you favored so much.
Of course, even a great beast like a dragon would totter and stumble when in such a foreign body. 
Although he has been in this body for many, many years now, yet, Neuvillette hasn’t acclimated to these fickle mortal attires.
If these garments weren’t pushed into his hands by the Melusines and their bright-eyed stares, he’d prefer to not dawn them. 
Neuvillette shuts his eyes. His lungs intake a deep breath, stifling the sway of these trivial inconveniences before they cause any ripples.
Once he’s certain there was no jagged edge to his stare, lilac hues peek back upon your figure. 
By now those fits of giggles had faded into a tranquil lull, your content face focused on the stitches. Body relaxed against the back of the chair, weaving the needle through the sides of the tear.
Subconsciously, his frame begins to mimic yours, rigid muscles melting against the wooden support. 
Lavender hues follow the disappearance of a sliver point, then catch its emergence from the fabric.
The torn and frayed edges draw closer and closer together by the coaxes of the thread, each stitch attentively placed by your graceful hands. 
“Neuvillette?” Your serene voice interlaces with the placid interlude. 
He hums an answer. 
“That night by the entrance… you said ‘You're bound to this cove as well’.” The pace of the needle slows. 
“Why did you say that?” You finish your question. 
Observant, a characteristic of yours he’s always deemed quite commendable. Ever so keen on the nuances of his sentences. 
The piercing stare of draconic eyes weighs on your shoulders, despite that the cadence of the needle didn’t falter. A ripple makes its appearance within a placid pool. 
“Do you really wish to know?” He warns. 
You hum resolutely. A bitter taste creeps its way up his tongue, the recollection of the string of words which damned him here. 
Instinct advises him to swallow them back, to conceal his shame from your awaiting ears. However, answering the call of your curiosity should be enough of a repayment for repairing a coat. 
“For the rest of one’s life, one shall never leave this cave deep beneath the tides. That is the curse set upon this body,” he reveals. 
The needle stops.
“A curse?…” you stammer out. 
Under your breath, Neuvillette hears you recount the disclosed secret. Repeating it to yourself as if to decipher the syntax, to find some answers to his condemnation.
The answer was sitting just in front of him. 
“…For the rest of one’s life… well, how long do dragons live?” 
To mortals, it’s time who is the reaper of their existence. From the moment a newborn sounds their first cry to the final draw of air on their deathbeds, it was the hands of a clock who ruled over them.
But such hands could not touch a being such as him. 
“The life of a dragon begins and ends in the Fontemer Sea, born from it, made from it, and shall return to it to be born again.” He wonders if mortals could grasp such a concept. 
“Oh…” Your tone grew more somber. 
Judging from your tonality, you must’ve pieced the allusions together.
To be contained within these stone walls with only a pool of seawater he could not touch as the opening, is to bestow upon him immortality he never asked for.
For the Hydro Dragon could not return to the Fontemer Sea. 
Even if dragons had long lives, it didn’t mean the humiliation of immortality. The true cruelty of this seemingly kind curse. 
“Why?” Your voice just barely above a whisper. 
Why was he cursed? Why is he in this sham of a mortal body? Why did he reveal the secrets of his brethren? All of this at the trifling sight of bitter tears. 
“Because the people of Fontaine found my name and they wished for it.” 
Why did he give you his name? And why did you then give it away? There are many questions left unanswered by that tale. 
Why did a proud dragon bow to the whims of a mere mortal in that fairytale?
A creature as potent as a dragon should never bow, not to the ordinances of false gods, not to the turbulence of fate, and not to a mere mortal. 
 Why did a maiden wish for a dragon to become a human like them? Water is an adaptable element, able to take on any shape it pleases. However, it yearns to always return to its natural shape. 
Perhaps, his ‘natural’ form appalled the devil too much. So much so, she used that one wish to confine him in the form she favored most.
More confoundingly, why did Neuvillette allow such a request? A creature favored by the usurpers dared to wish a dragon to abandon his heritage, to cross over the threshold of humanity just for their sake.
Why would a dragon ever bow to a mortal’s request?
The commandments of a false god and the howling thrashes of wind can’t make a proud dragon bow, but the weight of love might be enough for a prideful beast to lower his head towards a mortal. 
A traitor to his own fallen brethren is much too dignified of a title for Neuvillette. No, it’d be better to call him for what he is: A Fool. 
What a spectacle it was that day, even those fickle gods peered down just to watch. A fool who lost his form and authority was imprisoned beneath the tides.
A stir shakes that pool, whirling and writhing, the billows of bitterness mounting. 
“… could it be wished away?” Your voice beckons his thoughts to return to the present. 
Unlike how it was written in those tales, a curse can’t be ‘broken’. Not by a kiss, and not by clasping one’s hands together in prayer. 
“Not even a miracle could make a curse vanish, a curse only ever goes away once its clauses have been fulfilled.” 
Until the stars burn out, until the sky caves in on itself, or until the oceans of this uprooted world dry up, he shall remain here. The retribution a traitor deserves. 
He shall remain in this sham of a body, unable to become the form he desired the most in the next life he’ll never reach.
Not a human, not a dragon, just an atrocity somewhere in-between. This must be what humans call ‘purgatory’.  
“I see…” Your attention never leaves the half-stitched garment sprawled upon your lap. 
A heavy silence fills the space between you and him once more. To conclude a conversation on such a doleful note would be a disgrace. 
However, what is he to say? What words can salvage this situation? Neuvillette has no talent for small talk, he doesn’t have the same mortal heart as yours to provide you with any solstice. 
Amidst his contemplation, a soft hum resounds through the quietude, and the melodic rhythm of a lullaby begins. It seems that you took matters into your own hands, ending the doleful silence at your own discretion.
Once more his back reclines into the wooden chair, pointed ears indulge themselves in a nostalgic tune.
It’s strange, that rippling pool is swaying back to equilibrium. The surface returns to its placid rest as tension melts from his muscles. 
Unaware of the hushed pitter-patter of a curious audience, drawn in by the gentle song as their bright eyes peer ever from the cover of the door frame. 
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“Madame! Look I got more Pluie Lotuses!” Kiara’s little steps rush across the marble floor. 
Getting up on the tips of her feet to show the bundle of fresh blooms, salty water still dripping from their petals, as her bangs stick flush to her face still damp from the sea. Her pink tail swaying behind her.
Your body turns in her direction just in time with Neuvillette. 
“Kiara…” A subtle layer of disapproval emerges from lilac hues.
“Remember to dry off before entering the estate, the floors can become quite dangerous when wet.” 
“But…” the flowers lower. “I wanted to show Madame the lotuses…” 
There’s a drop in her tail and horns and a sharp sting to his chest. Her sisters were gathered around in a circle, a story having just concluded, he could feel their stares upon him. Adding to the sharpness of guilt. 
“My apologies, Kiara, I only meant to warn you.” 
She nods her head silently, tail still dragging on the floor. Ah, just what should he do? A frown begins to weigh down his face. 
“Thank you, they’re wonderful, Kiara.” Your gentle chime breaks through the stalemate. 
You take the bouquet from her mittened hands, placing them atop a counter, in exchange you offer her a towel. 
“But Neuvillette is right, it’s not good to run through the halls right after you returned from the waters. It’s dangerous, okay?” Your voice as gentle as the towel rubbed over her hair and horns. 
A content smile returns to her round cheeks as she diligently nods, promising that she’ll be more careful next time. Tail lifting up from the floor as the fluffy towel wipes away the ocean droplets. 
Once fully dried, she joins her sisters. The Melusines cast shifting glances toward one another until one finally steps out from the crowd. 
“Madame…” Carole calls out softly, tugging a few times the hem of your long dress. 
“Hm?” Giving her your full attention, a towel set aside. 
“I overheard you inquiring about names with Monsieur in the library once, could you be…” Her eyes downcasted. 
Oh. This time it was Neuvillette and you who exchanged glances, eyes both reflecting the same dread.
They weren’t supposed to know. They weren’t supposed to hear those slapdash guesses. 
He never meant for them to find out. Always careful to never discuss such matters in their earshot.
For how could he bear to tell them that their cozy village was actually a prison? 
His mind was unable to conjure up an excuse, tongue unwilling to speak it. They weren’t supposed to find out. Oh, what shall he do now? 
“Could you be expecting?” 
Huh?
Two pairs of eyes widened with bewilderment, mind stunned into silence and lips just as confused.
Somehow they’ve huddled even closer than before, encircling you and him with their bright eyes and tails swaying with anticipation. 
“Will there be a new addition to the village?” 
“How long do we have to wait?” 
“Are we getting a brother or sister?” 
Their chatter and probes homogenized into a jumbled symphony his flustered conscious just couldn’t distinguish. Trying to reel his senses back from this unexpected turn of events. Neuvillette clears his throat. 
“No,” he coughs out. 
A collective ‘aw’ resounds through the air, their tails and horns drooping down at the announcement. Guilt pierced its nail through his chest once more. However, he couldn’t lie to their bright eyes. 
“N-not, yet.” You add to his statement. 
A wave of inquisitive‘oh’ ripples through the crowd. Tails picked up from the ground as the glimmer in their eyes returned.
A sweet lie sprinkled over the truth neither of you dare tell, that blood and water can’t make wine. 
“Then, do you want a little prince or little princess?” Carole chirps. 
You remain silent, only gazing down at their faces as they stare back.
A lilac stare was also focused upon you, his curiosity awakening at this question as well. He watches you take a slow breath before leaning down. 
“I’d like to have a daughter, sweet and kind like all of you.” Your hand strokes her soft trestles. 
Her head nuzzles into your palm as giggles fill the air. Only draconic eyes study the small smile upon your lips, dipped in bittersweetness. 
Did you have a lover back on the surface in this life? Perhaps someone who was promised to you. A real prince this time. 
Did you have dreams of basking in the grace of the sun, cradling a bundle as a pair of tiny fingers encase around your own?
Was this the hard-earned happy ending you yearned for?
“Monsieur…” Mamaere tugs on his slacks. 
Neuvillette reigns his thoughts back from their escapade, he angles his head down. 
“Where does a baby come from?” 
The smile on your lips stiffen just as Neuvillette’s body does.
If there’s a god who’s peering into this cavern deep below the land and sea, must they send such dilemmas his way?
How does one navigate through this treacherous domain?
“Oh dear! I just remembered.” Your hands clap together.
“There’s a few ribbons and clips in the fabric room, do you girls mind getting them? So we can braid Monsieur’s hair?” 
At once the Melusines stand at attention, focus diverted over their excitement at the prospect of decorating snowy locks.
The patters of their little steps trample down the hall, allowing you and Neuvillette a well-deserved moment of reprieve. 
“Thank you.” His posture drops slightly as a hefty sigh leaves him, lids shut for a moment of rest.  
“Of course, Sébastien.” 
His eyes crack open, casting you a glance with a raised brow. The ghost of a grin barely contained by delicate lips. By this time, Neuvillette couldn’t recall all the past attempts. 
“Regrettably, that is not my name.” 
“Was it at least a decent attempt?” 
He could hear the pout in your voice, one that didn’t last long before a light-hearted laugh follows it.
Closing his eyes once more as he indulges in those chimes, he nods ever so slightly. It was a good attempt, for it brought out those sounds he enjoyed. 
His lashes flutter open at the sensation of his hair getting gathered in your tender hold. Passing the carved wooden teeth of a comb through his snowy locks.
Careful to not pull or tug on them as you coaxed the tangles out of their knots. The heaviness upon his shoulders leaves with a deep exhale which left his body, indulging in your attentive touches.
Subconsciously, his gaze trails up at the bundle of flowers resting along the wooden table. It wasn’t the periwinkle blush of the delicate petals that commanded his attention.
No, it was that salty, oceanic wisp mingled with the flora aroma. A fleeting essence of the sea.
“Do you miss the sea?” 
Ah, it seems that his stare wasn’t as subtle as he had hoped. Neuvillette turns away from the flowers as if he had been caught amidst a scheme.
Facing in front of him, your paused hands signal your wait for his response. 
“I suppose it’s only natural for me to long for it.” 
After all these years, Neuvillette believes he has finally grasped it, an answer to that void filled with ‘whys’. As if he had seized the reflection of a star from the bottom of a deep lake.
Neuvillette thinks he understands why you and the devil yearned for the sunlight. 
Perhaps the one similarity between proud dragons and arrogant humans. They both ache to return to where they came from.
One yearns for the sea. One yearns for land.
For there and only there, could their sins and grudges be purged. To gain the most restful sleep before the hands of fate shape them anew from the element.
“Hmm,” you hum in acknowledgment. 
Fingers gentle and slow as they brushed through his hair. You hum a lullaby to accompany each pass of the comb. Melodies that made his ears yearn for more, craving for more sounds to leave your plush lips. 
His hair had always been an inconvenience, capricious strands that were seemly curious of everything in his environment.
Snowy tresses find themselves gravitating towards door hinges, door knobs, and even the minuscule gaps in ornate furniture.
However, your patience hands untangled those unruly stands. 
When a knot proves to be particularly stubborn, you tend to lend closer to hone in on the troublesome tangle. 
It just so happens that a stubborn knot appeared, causing you to decrease the proximity between your bodies.
The heat radiating from your frame sends delightful pickles along his skin, a delicate warmth making his flesh grow feverish. 
A hunger deep within begins to grumble and wallow, a greed that wishes to dig past those frivolous fragrances to get to the true taste he craves.
An ugly gluttony pleading to delve into your soft flesh. Ah, he recognizes the cause of this turbulence now…
Neuvillette clears his throat. 
“I believe I’m beginning to feel unwell, so please refrain from venturing into the cellar for the next few weeks. I should quarantine myself.” Too ashamed to turn back and face you. 
“Oh?...” The comb stops.
At this distance, he was well aware of your scent. A fine fragrance no water or bloom could hope to imitate. Concealed under a layer of lavish soaps and oils dropped from the surface was an aroma that was wholly yours and yours alone. 
A gloved hand reaches up to cover his nostrils, seeking some barrier between that tantalizing whiff. 
“Please, excuse me…” He pulls away swiftly. 
The sudden action must’ve jostled his hair too much, for the sultry sensation of your fingertips was felt along azure ‘strands’. 
Just a minor touch against his horns, yet shudders rack up his nape. His teeth sink into the flesh of his bottom lip, sharper than they’re supposed to be, anchoring those ravenous voices at bay momentarily. 
He needs to leave now. For your sake. 
Rushed strides stow a distance between his body and that delectable warmth of yours. His back turned to you as he couldn’t bear to see the expression upon that saccharine face. 
Just what expression were you making as a dragon retreated?  
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The cellar of this estate was always cold, its stones never having once touched the sunlight before, thus they only brood in their frigidity. A somberness fitting to quell a heat which yearned to burn. 
The fever has consumed his body wholly, each pant leaving trails of foggy wisps. Neuvillette burrows deeper into the hoard of sheets, pillows, and blankets. The brush of the soft fabrics prickles his skin. 
How strange it is that despite the fever of heat igniting each corner of his flesh, despite the numerous thick covers twisting and burying his bare form, he’s still shivering. 
A chill ingrained so deep it’s in his very bones, skin alight but bones frozen over, just what is this purgatory? 
Annually it happens, a period where primal instincts exude past the rigid confines of a mortal form. Making its influence in the resurgence of draconic features over the mortal flesh that traps him.
No matter how raw his true form claws to be released, the mortal prison doesn’t relent. A curse he’s brought upon himself.
Laceratations of gluttony and cardinal sin sink deeper with each provocation. The creeks of the floorboards above and the sweet voice which leaked through the woods, the morsels of you that stirred the waters of instinct. 
From the depths of the torrent, he’s so desperately suppressing came the unquenchable thirst to lure you in. Beckon you down to this shadowy cellar so that the ugly and primal waters could swallow you wholly. 
But he mustn’t. Those soft touches and smiles had just been bestowed upon him, the twine of trust still delicate. How could he ever squander such privileges? For those lovely eyes of yours to look at him filled with nothing but fear and disgust, he’d rather be chained down here for the rest of eternity. 
He must endure it for a bit longer, he knows it’ll be over soon. The gale which sweeps through him is slowly lessening its blows. 
Even if the waters of primitive instincts howled and stormed, Neuvillette refused to leave this tangle of blankets and pillows. An unwavering grip refusing to submit to those demands. Thus nature had to find its own way to subsist off a drought. 
The heat hazed over his mind, conjuring up fantasies to appease the ever-unsettled water from its vapid reality.
“Neuvillette?” A soft voice calls out.
Just like now. Desire fogs up his senses to create a delusion, mimicking the way your warm voice beckons him. It’s nothing but a figment of his depraved lust. 
“Neuvillette?” 
He buries his ears further into the down covers to block the alluring mirages. Tickling him to submit to the temptation. But he mustn’t. Nothing more than a manifestation of lust. 
 The phantom donning your sweet voice calls out for him, and gentle touches send shivers through his nerves. Ah, he must vanquish this mirage before the fraying line of his self-restraint splinters apart. 
Nothing but smoke and mirrors conjured by desire, a rigid arm expels out from the covers to dissipate the siren’s lure. 
However, it wraps around something warm, a heat which his fever wails for. Intrinsically his shivering body covets that warmth, to be buried flush against the source so that this chill may finally stop its torment. 
So like any greedy dragon, his claws enclose around temptation and drag it into his decrepit cave of blankets and sheets. 
A satisfied purr judders through his stalwart body, a warmth which could finally reach his very bones. Thus, he burrows his face deeper into the shoulder of this phantom, a lovely aroma beckoning him to pull their soft body closer. 
“Neuvillette?…” 
His eyes snap open, realization flooding through him just as the chill that had been ingrained into his bones. This wasn’t an illusion. You weren’t an illusion. 
He tears himself away, just as a moth does once they realize a hypnotic flame had set their wings alight. Trembly arms firmly planted on either side of your body, snowy locks falling onto your face. 
“Are you alright?...” The sapphire luminance of his elongated horns shines across those sinless eyes. 
The strap of a nightgown halfway down your shoulder from when he snatched you beneath his savage form. 
“You… you shouldn’t be here,” he breathes, voice unsteady and taut. 
“You’ve been away for an awfully long time… I-” Your eyes were blown wide and lips pressed together, aghast gaze not daring to glance down at the raging rigidness pressed against the silk of your nightgown. 
Frenzied shivers of pleasure jostles through his veins, tremors racking his body all the way to the tips of his horns. In desperation his rigidnesses pleaded to feel you, throbbing so painfully a hiss leaves his lips.
“You need to leave, quickly please.” Leave before he traps you again.
 Before this pathetic excuse of a sovereign loses against himself, before he makes a fool of himself. Neuvillette tries to pull away, against the weeping wishes of his erections. Face too ashamed to even look at you, but a pair of tender hands guides his cheeks back.
“...But I missed you…” You whisper. 
Why are your hands embracing his face in this unsightly state? Are they not appalled by the patches of scales littered across them? Like a flame reaching out towards a moth. 
“Leave, please.” Don’t tempt him like this. 
“... Don’t you miss me?...” Your hold doesn’t budge.
Why do you look at him like that? Irises filled with warmth as his image is reflected in the flickering candlelight. Gazing wholly up at him. A cerulean glow tinting your hair and supple body. 
“Don’t…” He reasons, the last of his sensibility crying a warning of a sinful fruit. 
“Please, Neuvillette… won’t you hold me for just a bit? I missed you so much….” The shift of your shoulder causes the nightgown to slip further off your shoulder. 
Don’t call out to him like that. No, not as your bewitching body was so close to his. The glow of a candle illuminating the curve of your cheeks, disheveled hair framing your wide eyes. 
Don’t show him such a sight, for he’ll salivate to devour you until his teeth rot.
“Please?...” Coaxing his head down so that his forehead rests against yours. 
Your warmth, your soft touches, and your delectable aroma, they parch his throat so much it pained him. Just as painful as attempting to swallow down sand from a hellish desert, it aches and lacerates his throat. 
And here you were offering a lustrous fruit, so juicy and filled of sin, in front of his famished eyes. A cruel, cruel mercy. 
“... May…May I?” It’s unbearable, this parchedness in his throat, would you be so kind to quench it? 
Your sweet hum grants him permission. Eyes closed just as you turn a blind eye to his ravenousness, still stroking his tender cheeks. Neuvillette couldn’t deny himself any more of the warmth he’s coveted for oh so long. 
Thus, he delves head-first into the glimmer of that enchanting flame. Burying his nose into the crook of your neck, so vulnerable and complacent, to hoard your bewitching fragrance all for himself. His skin flushed against yours as his bones delight in your heat. 
The reigns of self-respect slip out from his hands as they let go in favor of running along your curves and edges. Each feature, your shoulders, and hips, aligns with details he’s long ingrained into his memory.
His fervor touches pushing down the silk fabric which dare disturb his worship. Nevuillette cants his head up momentarily, puffs of smothering breaths clouding the frosty air. 
Lilac eyes drink up how the chilly air made your delectable breast perky, trailing down the goosebumps lining your torso, and landing on your exposed thighs.
A dryness itches in his throat as callused hands bite into the tender skin and he parts those placid legs away. 
Oh, how could one ever take their eyes off that shiny, succulent fruit held out so openly in the hands of the tempter of all tempters?
They reveal to him the oasis he’d been hallucinating these grueling weeks. The tip of a serpentine tongue slips across his parched lips.
Since you so brazenly offered your body up to him, you wouldn’t have any objects against him finally getting a taste, right? 
His foreboding figure traverses downwards until his delirious face is right between the cusp of his salvation and demise.
Dilated pupils peering up at you for approval, an invocation for clemency from this drought. A merciful hand graces his cheeks once more, granting him his salvation and demise. 
His tongue escapes past his parched lips, as lengthy as it was insatiable, it licks a slow and passionate strip up your slit. A taste he once would only recount in the depths of his recollections. 
Does this new body of yours still have the same weaknesses? Will you still writhe in madness if he sucks on that delectable little nub? Or how about those hidden points concealed deep within?
Could this tongue of his bring you past the brink of insanity in this life as well?
There was only one way for Neuvillette to grasp the answers he sought. A long tongue slips past the entrance of your satin walls, welcomed with a lewd squelch. 
Grip parting your legs from his path further. Those quivering calls of ‘Neuvillette’and the pawing of your small hands against his head beckon him deeper. 
Ah, redemption, it’s far too late for him now. For Nevillette has taken a bite out from that forbidden fruit, the evidence of it was dripping down his chin. 
Ah, these slick velvety walls, he missed them. They clamp down with such ferocity along this beastly tongue, extensive enough to reach the deepest cavern of you.
A divine nectar begins to pool, Neuvillette retracts his tongue just enough for the heavenly taste to slide down his throat. Your sweet musk sends his olfactory system into chaos, rampant tongue returning to ravish you.
Not one drop of restraint left within him. It’s beastly how he’s devouring you. His tongue craves more of the delicacy he’s denied himself these past years, a thirst no water could quench. Wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit in a meticulous long lap, his nose bumping into your clit. 
Your mewls and sobs echo off the walls when he flicks his tongue over that sensitive nub. Your body jolts violently as the length of his tongue ventures into the honeypot, toes curling in the air, but his iron-clad grip doesn’t allow any room for escape.
Delicate fingers now entangled into his tussled locks, grasping onto illuminated horns. You were likely trying to find something to ground your dissipating sanity, how unfortunate that your actions only flamed the fires. 
A guttural growl echoed. Tongue now plunging further, slithering back and forth along your walls. For being such a sweet sacrifice for him, he’ll give a reward. Slithering tongue making sure to drag against that spot he’s memorized.
Judging from how your feet were arching off the sheets, it seems this sinful detail of yours was repeated as well. 
Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls, your body twitching and flailing in reaction.
Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations. Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.
He could feel your muscles begin to seize up, slick walls clamping harder on his writhing tongue. Was this foreign sensation too much for you already?
His long tongue explores every last crevice, tastebuds lapping against those weak spots deep within as his nose bumps and grinds against that lewd clit. This unsightly side of you. 
There’s more fervor in the lashes of his tongue, slurping up the nectar trickling out your greed, mixing with his spit dripping down his chin.
Your legs trashing but unable to go anywhere in his unrelenting hold, only able to pull on his silky locks for dear life as sobs tumble out. A flood of arousal adds to the mess on his chin. One he gladly laps up. 
Oh’s and ah’s were the only choked sounds your lips could make as your eyes rolled to the back of your scrambled mind.
Neuvillette still relishing in the elixir he’s denied himself for too long, not even the purest water could compare. Reveling in the taste until every last drip ran down his parched throat. 
Pulling away, a trail connects his lips with your quivering folds.  Callous hands dig further into your legs, making room for his body. Watching as the movements of your chest slowed, his brute figure engulfed your frame.
The ache was unbearable now, each impatient throb reprimanding him for delaying their greed. Neuvillette couldn’t deny their request any longer.
Back sitting up straight, his cocks thrumming against his abdomen, precum exuding out from their swollen heads.  
The cool air did little to calm the throbs of his fervors, the girthy shaft standing tall as its engorged tip weeped precum, its twin weeping just the same.
They hover over the softness of your belly, sharp pupils trail up the shadow they cast, heralding to where they crave to be buried. 
The heat of his body was suffocating, the burn in his throat greater than ever before. But why? He had drank from that forbidden oasis, it’s dripping down his chin, yet why has his thirst grown greater than before? 
Neuvillette was so… so close. If he had only endured it for another day or two, the gale within him would’ve relented and retreated away in defeat. But oh how viciously it’s gloating in its victory. Getting a dragon to bow his head to its cardinal blows. 
“Do you… feel better now, Neuvillette?” Slow pants leave your curled lips as your hands reach up to caress his taut face. 
This brazenness, this shamelessness, this insolence. Ah, these characteristics have followed you through the grave and into this life as well. You weren’t skilled enough this time around to hide your desire glazed across your pupils. 
Did you do this in hopes of making him indebted to you? Offer your sweet body in return for stealing his name from his locked lips? Was this why you traversed down to this dark cellar so late in such flimsy silks?
That gleam in those deceptive eyes, the audacity to believe you could tame the sea with just a flick of your finger. You devious temptress. 
“Better?… you’ve only fanned the flames, you devious woman.” A snarl from the depths of him. 
Before another word could leave your lips one torrid hand pins your wrist to the sheets. Nails much too sharp to be human dig into those fickle and troublesome fabrics hiding your skin from his touch.
An all too satisfying rip resounding through the air along with your yelp. Scraps join the tangle of sheets. 
Did his mortal prison deceive you too much? Did his mild mannerisms trick you into believing that he’s a merciful soul? Or did you always ignore the warnings?
A monster with a human face is still a monster. To believe that one’s patience is endless, only a human could be this impertinent.
His other vascular hand slides down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs hook behind his firm thighs. The ridges of his lower cock drag against your slick folds, wetting his girth from its leaking tip sliding down against your swollen clit. 
Precum mixes with the concoction as the glossiness spreads about his length. A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Neuvillette positions his engorged tip at your dripping entrance.
The sensation must’ve cleared the daze from your mind, your head cants downwards to stare at the two oddities. 
“A-are both of them going to…” Your grip tightens on the sheets, a subconscious search for comfort. 
Ah, now you remember danger. Now you realize your insolence to believe that a mere human could ever tame a proud dragon. 
“There won’t be any point in breaking you so quickly,” he snarls. Not missing the flutter of your hole as the weeping head dragged over it. It wouldn’t be good to break you so quickly. His sweet little sacrifice. 
Taking the erection which hung lower, he rubs its flushed tip along your slit. Each flinch and tremble sparked gratification through his veins.
The lashes of his tongue had aided in the preparation of these sinful walls, but the girth of his beastly tongue could not compare to the thickness pressed against these leaking folds.
The ghost of his breath flutters over your prickling skin. Neuvillette takes deeper breaths as the weight pressed against your core grew, the bulbous tip inching past the puckering entrance.
The stretch was maddening despite the restrained pace. Your walls fluctuate in a surging dance between clamping down and trying to remain relaxed.
As Neuvillette sinks his girth in bit by bit, its envious twin slithers against your aching clit. The sensitive bundle of nerves drags against each ridge and vein, sending jolts of searing pleasure through him and causing your satin walls to flutter. 
A velvety sack kisses against your slick folds, signaling that his length has reached its end. The fat tip of its twin resting just above your naval indicated just how deeply he was buried, trapped between your soft flesh and his sculpted body.
It’s crowded inside you, girth parting and stretching these satin walls while the length is pressed against the deepest most intimate part of you.
Forcing delectable little whimpers and gasps from your haughty lips. Quivering legs now locking ankles behind his back, like a pitiable attempt to hamper him. 
That arrogance disgraced to nothing but obscenity upon a wanton face. To see the devil so helpless and lewd under the manipulation of a dragon. What a wonderful sight. 
Surely your body remembers his. If not, then he’ll ensure it does now, he’ll engrain it into you for the next life. 
One cock slid against the satin ridges of your walls, the other indulging along your searing skin and grinding against your clit. He can’t deny how addictive your body always has been. 
Dragging as far back as your locked legs would allow him, the flushed head of one dick kisses your twitching clit, and he sinks back in.
Grunts and purrs reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open. 
His pace is methodical and controlled to his liking. Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge.
Each time making your core empty and yearning to clench around his girth. Just as a whine would leave your drooling lips, his hips would return to you what your core longed for. 
Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. Back and forth, back and forth the resounding slaps echoed. Mingling with his low groans and your pitched gasps, creating a sacrilegious yet divine hymn.
Your hand rakes deeper into his toned back possessed by desperation.
A few snowy strands are trapped between your writhing fingers. Pulling him closer to your smoldering skin, causing your clit to grind intensely against his swollen cock, as its twin twitches within your velvety folds.
Those babbles falling from your fed lips, were they pleas for him to bestow upon you leniency or begging him to speed up? 
“Do you wish to climax?” A polite façade purrs into your ear. 
Lilac eyes were not ignorant to how a devil keens under his body, her gaze drunk off a feverish potion of lust and desire. He could feel it, these velvet walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming ache within you. 
“That’s too bad.”
 His hips remain steady contrasting against the unevenness of your own pants, unaffected by your desperate mewls. You’ve been selfish enough, you’ve been greedy enough. If he were to grant you a taste of ecstasy, then it’ll be on his terms. 
He hasn’t gotten his fill yet, no, he wants to pound his shape forever into these lewd walls. The way they contract and squeeze around his girth with each drive of his hips, they’re practically begging him to.
Thus, he accelerates just a bit more, then a bit more, then a bit more again. Nearly folding you with how flushed he was against you. 
The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into a spark. One which set the both of you ablaze. Your nails digging into his skin and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent prattles resound through the room.
Your devious walls clamped around his length with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling to guide his throbbing head to your deepest greed. It was too much.
Neuvillette was powerless as his body pressed yours deeper into the damp sheets, trying to grasp onto any fleeting wisps of control as euphoria overtook him. 
Sinking his ravenous teeth into the tangle of the sheets beside your neck, he stifles the admission of his defeat. 
A heftiness is spilled within your walls and paints the expanse of your skin in an all-consuming wave. Thick release coating every corner of your core, to finally quell that ravaging heat.
Each subsequent twitch pours more into your crowded cavity and stains your skin. The filthiness of it all seemingly prolongs your sinful depravity. 
Chest expanding with pants, pressing your erected nipples against his taut chest. Neuvillette remains buried against you, brutish arms holding your body flush against his.
As if to anchor you, to not allow the turbulent waves of madness to sweep you far from him, or him from you. Keeping your quiver body safe against his. 
In the darkness behind his shut lashes, he felt it. Your soft caresses his silky tresses and heaving body. Even as your body heaves and quivers in exhaustion, why must you touch him so tenderly?
Why must you be so cruel? If your hands keep caressing his clammy skin, stroking his peeking scales, he’ll misunderstand.
He’ll believe the delusion that you love him.
Him and not the swaying flower fields of the sunkissed surface. 
Whispers cut through the haze of lust and passion, warnings crying for Neuvillette to escape. So he pulls his face from the tangle of sheets, lungs huffing as his eyes find yours.
Exhaustion muddles the hues of your gaze, but not enough to completely smother that glimmer still present. Ah, he knows that that glimmer was. 
Even in his heat-induced daze, he’s not naive enough to believe the sincerity presented in your eyes was anything other than duty.
He doesn’t want to be reminded that those hands, which cup his face with such tenderness, are bound by a sense of duty.
A reminder that he’s merely just a stepping stone on the path of your true desire.
He doesn’t want to see it. 
The head of his cock parting with a deafening squelch. A darkened gaze follows the pool forming between your splayed legs. Disgruntlement muddles lilac hues. 
But such discontent couldn’t last long when the twitch of a neglected length protests. Its bulbous tip longed for its turn within those sticky walls. A primal ordinance he couldn’t resist.
What to call this sensation, to scorn yet desire you just as much. 
It wasn’t long before your hips were maneuvered up, your plush ass now up in the air as your quivering arms and face pressed into the sullied sheets.
As one hand supports your unsteady hips. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your cunt, glistening with temptation and dripping with sin. 
Hooked fingers slides up the weeping slit, collecting the sacrilegious mixture. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Spreading them in front of his gaze, tracing over the stringy nectar stretched between them. 
How strange, those lying lips of yours whimper for ‘rest’ and a ‘moment to catch your breath’. Yet your body is still so eagerly exposing itself to his eyes, agape cunt so eagerly twitching and slick. 
You don’t even try to writhe yourself away from his hold, not even a single attempt to hide yourself from his hunger.
How skilled you are at fanning the flames, perhaps it's a talent inherent to devils like you. The tempter of all tempters. 
You’ve always been like this since the very first rendition. 
If only you weren’t so strong-willed. If only you weren’t so clever to trick him. If only you weren’t so enchanting. 
Then he wouldn’t have bent to your whims, the sea would’ve cleansed out the mortal filth from stolen land. Then he wouldn’t be trapped in this disgrace of a body. Then he wouldn’t be in love with you.
The betrayal, the disgrace, and this punishment would’ve never happened if only a fool didn’t surrender everything for a mere, fleeting creature.
Why must you make him repeat the same mistake again?
There it was again, that surging torrent within him making its voice known in the echoes of his mind. Whispering the hint on how a dragon would defeat the flame that had scorched him those years ago.
Smother the flame with the tides of depravity and vulgarity. Taint your arrogance with shame. 
There wasn’t an ounce of gentleness remaining within his eyes, a beastly hunger taking its place.
Yes, you must pay the debt of reducing him to such a humiliating state.
His neglected cock prods against that greedy cunt of yours. Unmerciful hands bruising the plushness of your hips. 
The sinful concoction from the previous sessions allowed his tormented length into your walls without resistance.
The neglected cock finally indulging in the spasms of your abused walls, it’s its turn to bully those weak spots with its thick head. 
Sobs sung in broken chokes leave your drooling lips. Trembling fingers enmeshed into the fabric as if to find some ground for your senses to land after their fall from euphoria.
He won’t allow you reprieve. No, not even for a moment. He’ll shatter your sanity and arrogance once and for all. 
Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through overstimulation, heavy balls slamming against your swollen lips.
The previous twin cock was now experiencing the hard nub of your engorged clit running along its veins and ridges. 
There’s no room for an exchange of words. No, the two of you have long been pasted that point.
No sandy ground beneath as the two of you sank under the ravenous tides of primal instincts and pleasure.
Cacophonous growls, whimpers, and sobs filling the absence along with the thwacks of skin against skin echoed back from the cellar walls. 
You keen under the ram of his hips, jostled head writhing against the soiled sheets. The motion allows your hair to fall over your shoulders.
Exposing an untainted patch of skin. Sharp pupils watching how beads of sweat trailing down your nape reflect the azure glow of his body. 
An itch assailing his fangs even has his hips continue their barrage against your soft ass. Those lovely vulgar moans wane out from his hearing as his senses could only obsess over the untarnished expanse. 
Ah, what if there’s a way for him to pin you here until the stars themselves burn out? You were given to him as his bride.
An offering made to him.
So why can’t he forever confine you within his clutches? Just as you were the original sin which damned him to this cove.
Long tongue dragging along the fresh skin, feeling the jolts of your body. 
He’s done it once before, he’s cursed you before. Imprinting a curse upon your very soul, one which followed you through the hands of death and even when the hands of life reformed your body from the earth.
Why not renew it? 
Neuvillette pins your upper body further into the tangled bedding, one hand abandoning your hips in favor of raveling in the mess of fabric.
Your heated skin felt against his exhilarated fangs, hungry to sink into your nape. 
‘Till death do us part’, that’s not enough.
Such fleeting mortal oaths are much too meek for dragons.
No, those atrocious murmurs in his thoughts command him to curse you in the next life. And the next one, and the one after that as well. 
It’s not like your muddled head would understand, nothing but mindless prattles and mewls from the suffocating pleasure only he could ever give you.
But that’s fine, just drown nicely in lust and desire. He’ll always be waiting there at the bottom to drag you down deeper. 
Just as the tips of his pointed teeth broke through quivering skin, delicate fingers grasp upon burly a hand.
Intertwining their grasp together upon rumpled linen, a subconscious search for comfort.
An action that remits an iota of reason back to his foggy mind, hazy eyes moving toward the sight of your hand clutched around his. 
Even as he’s ravishing your weeping walls, flooding your body with his filthy essence which trickles down your thighs and ass, and chasing his own carnal needs… you still reach for him.
Shamelessly pulling his touch closer, even when the throes of rapture banished all thought from your jostled mind. 
A whisper resurfaces amidst the fog and clamor of instinct and rage.
However, it’s a whisper which made his incisors dare not budge another inch. The inkling of truth which he thought he had silenced within the depths of his heart. 
The accuracy that this wasn’t love. No, what his instincts craved was not love, it was obsession. 
For love was not this sadistic possession, not to curse you just to ease his own damnation.
No, love is supposed to be much like the warmth of your palm flushed against his knuckles. 
He remembers now, the lesson you taught him all those years ago. A demonstration witnessed with his own eyes.
Love was sacrifice, just as how you offered yourself to the tides, quelling the rage of a vengeful dragon. Because you loved your village too much to allow them to drown. 
Retreating away from the transgression almost committed, fangs repressed behind closed lips. Neuvillette presses a sweet kiss against the shallow wound.
 To love you isn’t to steal you away from the embrace of the star who’s forsaken him. It’s to hoist you up to that beloved sunlight. Just where you belonged. 
Oh, how could he not love you?
The bride offered to a dragon in a white dress who once dared to command the great beast to stand still as she braided flowers into his hair.
A brazenness contrasted with the gentleness of her smile. 
The voices of heart and cruelty rang out in vociferous battle in his mind, Neuvillette buries his face into your shoulder. Pursuing the savor of your skin, pinning you deeper into the tangle of bedding.
Providing more simulation for the pulsing cock wedged against your swollen clit and messy sheets. The neediness of his movements exposed just how close his undoing was. 
The hand on your abdomen pulled you impossibly close, adding pressure to the bulging outline of his cock.
Amplifying the ecstasy coursing through your veins, abused walls clamping down on each ridge and each vein of his heft girth. The shape engrained into your wanton core, marvelous sobs and mewls echoing off the empty walls. 
Soon those moans become shattered in your throat, eyes rolling back further with each heavy thrust and slap of his balls. Lungs cease all function as rapture unravels you wholly and exhilaration becomes your undoing. 
Sloppy contractions mix the repercussions of multitudinous ruination, dripping out your convulsing cunt. Just before a hot surge replenishes the brood that oozed out on the sullied sheets.
Grunts vibrate against your back reminding your body to breathe. 
Thick ropes paint your belly and sheets, making an absolute mess. Contracting walls trying but failing to contain the aftershocks from his cock buried deep within, already stretched to their limits, capacity long exceeded. Shudders rack your body and his the same. 
With hands still entangled, he coaxes your body around. Granting him a mesmerizing view of your debauched face.
The face he’s so enamored with that he bows his down closer, bodies still connected as he wishes to echt every last detail of you into his being. So that eternity may remember you. 
Softness resurfaces in his bones, a tender kiss pressed upon your fingers. Soothing those tremors as he guides your consciousness back to reality. 
He holds you, remaining inside as to contain his greed spilled deep inside. The heftiness of his cock prods against your shuddering walls. Every last fiber of your being overstimulated with pulsing pleasure. 
Yet, your hand refused to let go. Still holding him toward your exhausted figure in the dying light of the candle.
Whimpers and coos exchanging in a duet of devotion, a hymn so placate it quells the vapid torrents ever so slightly.
Placid fingers drawing circles into your sore back. A gentle lilac gaze keeping watch as your teary eyes retire behind heavy lashes. 
Blood and water no matter how much they’re mixed, won’t produce wine.
However, just for tonight in a realm heavy with lust, passion, and phantasm, they’ll craft a wine of delusion. One filled with nothing but wishful fantasy. 
However, this wine of delusion shall be enough to quench the thirst of lascivious compulsions and vengeance. 
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The gentle caresses of steam ghost past your leaden lashes, lukewarm ripples lap against your skin. Your sore body propped up against the porcelain, as Neuvillette drags a dampened towel along your skin. 
A pang of guilt stung him each time the cloth passed over a discolored imprint. No amount of diligent rubs would purify your skin of those bruises in the shape of his fingers. 
A stir from muscle gradually awakening from slumber reflected in the wavelets of the bath. The sensation of a damp towel must’ve further jolted your senses back to alertness. 
A cerulean glow glistens off the polished surface as your vision finally centers on the figure rising warm water over your limp body.
Attentive eyes immediately connect with yours as he scans your expression for discomfort. 
“Are you hurting anywhere?” Neuvillette halts the towel. 
You respond with a slow shake, your throat must be too sore to answer. Despite how he tries to conceal them behind a robe, blotches of azure painted along his fair skin.
Proof that draconic influence was still in rebellion of his body. All the while he’s very much aware of your eye’s every move. What an appalling sight it must be for you. 
“If I make you uncomfortable I’ll leave promptly, this was just the only solution I could find to bathe-”
“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Voice hoarse as your frame melts closer to his, delicate fingers intertwining with between the spaces of his own scaly fingers.
Allowing your breaths to minge in tandem in the steam-damped tiles of the tranquil bathroom. 
“Does it hurt?” A warm thumb traces soft circles along the rough scales along his hand. 
Did you catch the subtle twitches and jolts of his muscles? A mortal body rejecting draconic influences, draconic influences revolting against a mortal cage. Still, he shakes his head. Lilac gaze watching your eyes trail between the scales and his eyes with skepticism. 
“I’m not quite sure as to why I’m still in this… state.” Neuvillette gives a preemptive answer to the question he assumes to be hanging off your tongue. 
“Do you… miss the sea?” However, it seems you had another inquiry hidden in your ever perplexing mind. 
A deep sigh resonates through the tranquil air. He stares at the tips of his fingers dipped into the warm water, a taunting substitute for the sea that called for him. 
“I suppose it’s natural that I yearn for it…”
A hum was your only response, eyes hidden behind closed lashes. Neuvillette just couldn’t decipher that smile of yours, curled lips reflected over the rippling surface of the steaming water. 
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“Your body is still delicate, please let us return back to the estate-”
“I might actually grow roots into that bed if I’m to rest there any longer.” A pout was evident in your voice. 
Taking a few greater strides, your body pulls in front of Neuvillette’s pace. It was only momentary of course, for he swiftly rejoins your side.
Observant eyes not missing the subtle wobble in your steps along the pastures of the village.
“Please just don’t stray too far.” He relents, offering up his arm for support. 
With a gracious smile, your arm curls around his, interlocking your fingers with his as two pairs of steps ambled along the grass.
Soon a familiar pool of water came into view, enticing two pairs of eyes with its glimmering ripples.
What it strange sight those waters showed, a cursed dragon who yearned for his place and a cursed mortal who longed for the sun, two cursed beings holding hands in the reflection along the pristine surface. 
“I believe this is far enough. ” His arm pulls your frame closer, a subtle hesitance tainting his tone. 
However, your body didn’t budge. Resolute stance not moving even one bit watching your reflection warp and contort in the water. A deep breath echoes off the wall. 
“Neuvillette… do you miss the sea?” Your stare parts with the water, now peering straight into his lilac hues. 
‘Do you miss the sea?’ You’ve asked him this question many times. He's always given a composite response, but maybe his flowery words diluted the meaning too much to your ears. 
“Yes, I do miss the sea.” His candid yearning. 
There was a question his lips didn’t dare ask, ‘Do you miss the sun?’, Neuvillette wanted to riposte your questions with this question of his.
But he knew it would be pointless, for he already knew the answer. Wordlessly written all over your melancholic stare into the pond, the longing to return to the sun, to be with blood and not water. 
To love you, would be to hoist you up to where you longed to be, in the embrace of the warm sun. Neuvillette had thought he made up his resolve long ago.
However, would it be too selfish of him to wish to turn back?
To convince you to back into the tranquil estate where the Melusines await your return with those dishes you taught them how to cook.
Or maybe would at least try on those gowns still untouched? Could you wait until all those books in the library were read through by your sweet voice?
Would you be oh so kind enough to hold his hand just for a moment longer? At the very least, would you allow him to memorize your warmth? 
His grip on your hands tightens ever so briefly, a shaky breath trembles in his chest before he releases it along with the tension in his fingers.
No, it wouldn’t be fair to stall any longer, you deserve your happy ending. 
Calmly, the dragon bows his head closer to yours. Ignoring the aggrieved voices that cried for him to swallow back to secret just about to spill from his tongue.
The ending of this tale won’t ever change, for a dragon is just as foolish as he was before. 
“My true name is-!” His voice was stunned as a pair of soft lips silenced him. 
Your lips pressed against his own, forcing back the secret. His bewildered eyes hone in upon your face, but your lashes were shut as your hands pull his face closer. The resolve wanes from his bones as he sinks into your embrace. 
As your lips pull away, gasping for breath. He places his hands atop yours, searching your face for an answer. All he got was that indecipherable smile. 
Pulling his face down closer to yours again, your lips find themselves right next to his pointed ears. Under a faint breath which left your parted lips came the secret he kept locked away.
Since when? When did you find his name? Or… did you know this whole time? 
Neuvillette reels back in the embrace of your cruel hands. Lilac eyes stare deep into yours, peering through the cracks in that enchanting façade of yours. 
Ah, this whole time, did he not discover the false innocence in the irises of the deceptor of all deceptors? 
A foolish moth fell for the deception of a devil once again, flying to the flicker of a candle until his wings were charred off into ash.
Those sentences written upon parchment weren’t lies, all other monsters fall secondary to the devil. Even a dragon. 
“Why?” Was all he could muster, oh cruel devil why did you play him a fool once more?
“Because I wanted to see you again… but I knew you wouldn’t quite share the same sentiment since the moment I heard your voice… so I lied,” Those audacious eyes of yours never looked away. 
Ah, how could he forget how crafty and observant a devil is with her schemes? The charming enchantment as she performs her deceptions. Speaking shameless lies with those bewitching lips.
“If you wanted to see me… then that day at the loch… why weren’t you there?” The stir of the torrent within put a snarl into his throat.
Why must you keep lying to him? 
Ah, from the start, Neuvillette should’ve listened to the clamorous cries of his instincts. To withdraw away from the flame, to extinguish the hell fires before they left another lesson learned upon his skin.
Yet, he’s still within the embrace of your cruel hands. His body just wouldn’t pull away. 
Just what is this level of stupidity called? For a moth to still crave the warmth of the flame which charred its wings into ash. Just what is this lunacy called? 
“The nobles locked me away after those tyrants stole your name from my tongue, they locked me away.” Torment brewing in those irises which reflected him. 
A chill staggers the surge of the torrent, an icy sting which stupefied the rampaging currents.
For generations upon generations of scribes and poets never penned this detail down in any rendition of a classically beloved tale. 
“I begged them, I banged against the bars of the cell, even clawed at the stone walls until my fingers were raw, but they left me there to rot in the cold… I just wanted to see you one last time, just once more.” Those bitter pools formed in your penitent eyes spill over. 
This wasn’t how the tale was supposed to end. The maiden, who deceived a dragon for her people, was supposed to be hailed a hero. You were supposed to have a happy ending, so why didn't you get that? 
“All I ever wanted was for you and me to walk amongst humanity… look where that got us…” Tears descend from your cheeks and onto the grass below, a humorless chuckle. 
Was this another lie falling from those saccharine lips of yours? Sugar dusted on the shell of a vile trick? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore. 
“That foolish wish of mine… it must’ve been so painful. I’m so sorry.” Your thumb traces over the scales dotted over his cheek, evidence of a draconic rebellion against a mortal condemnation. 
Does your touch scorn or soothe him? Neuvillette wasn’t sure anymore. 
“I’m sorry. I’ll say sorry one thousand times if you wish.” A tremor in your voice.
The surge within him couldn’t sustain itself, faltering and receding back to a placid, pathetic ripple. Perhaps… It's tired.
Tired of holding onto this futile grudge. Not when the bitter answers its tides were ravenous for had finally sunk in. 
He takes a deep breath, collecting his resolve. 
“...what… what do you wish for?” Just how will this rendition end? Neuvillette doesn’t know. 
But he knows his hands should hold onto yours, desperately etching the details of your tender touch into its memory. Rations to sustain him for the rest of a solitary eternity. 
He hears your slow inhale, preparing your throat to speak your selfish desires. 
“I wish for your curses to become mine alone to bear.” You reveal your selfish wish, pressing the voucher of freedom into his hands. 
He had that look on his face again. Disbelief stupefied each muscle of his dashing face, wide eyes peering into yours trying to find the hint of a jest. Your gaze doesn’t waiver as your finger tightens around his. 
“Grant me my wish… please.” Lips stretching with a reassuring smile.
His lips press into a thin line, face returning to its place between your warm hands, he takes a deep breath. Perhaps it’s just his sense of responsibility and fairness that compelled him to fulfill this wish. 
Or maybe, the dragon just couldn’t help but submit to the whims of his beloved, a statement that remained no matter what rendition of the tale it was.  
Releasing the breath he held, the shift in the air was palpable, a lightness in his chest. The pond off to the side billows momentarily, drawing focus toward its excited ripples.
Releasing his hold, feet leading him to the side of the saltwater before his mind could process his own actions. 
He could hear it again, the hymns of the water singing the end of his exile. Reaching out a hand, it sinks past the cool surface, the tides welcoming back their prince with mellow kisses. 
The ocean calls for him, so why is he still staring back at you? The one who’ll never embrace the sea again for the rest of her life, nor ever feel the sway of Summer days in a field full of Pluie Lotus. His eyes conveyed a question his lips couldn’t bear to ask. Thus, you give the answer he seeks. 
 “Think of it as my reparations to you, an overdue apology for my mistake, for making you to suffer so much.” That glimmer in your eyes, one he understands now. 
Moving the hex to a body whose true master was the mistress of time, a body blessed with mortality. If a miracle isn’t enough to make a curse break, then perhaps the tides of time could. 
Taking a piece of the curse with each tick of a clock, just like how the waves take with it grains of sand from warm beaches. 
Once a withered mortal body is called back to the earth, the clauses will be fulfilled after many centuries. Unsettled grudges eroded away like those sandy banks. 
Until the pull of the ground makes its visible influence on your skin. Until your locks come to resemble the snowy shade you’ve lovingly run your fingers through. Until the sweet earth hums for you to embrace it once more, you shall remain here. 
What a clever scheme it all is, a masterful plan which could only ever be conjured by you. You devil, oh so devious, devil. 
“You can hate me, I won't hold it against you,” you whisper. “May this tale end in your happiness, let me do this much for you.”
A bitter bile festers at those lies of yours. How could such lies fall from your lips so easily when they always left such a vile taste upon his tongue?
Gaze honed in upon your frame, watching the gentle smile hold back the slight quiver of your shoulders. He stands back up, slow strides returning him to your side. Taking your hands into his larger ones, placing your soft touch back along his cheeks. 
“Silence… I won’t hear such deceit.” Snowy locks brushing against your fingertips.
“But I wasn’t lying…” Confusion furrows your brow, but your hands remain cupping his face.
Moving away, he studies the rivulets of regret and anguish that leave bitter trails down your cheeks. He swallows back the objections clawing up his throat, such vile words don’t belong on your tongue. 
“How could I hate you?” he confesses. 
Neuvillette has finally come to a realization. All those renditions, all those differing retellings of a classic tale. He had read them all wrong, basis clouding his interpretation. 
For the princess did love her dragon. Just as he loved her, all this time. 
Together in the depths of a cave away from the prying eyes of the divine. Breaths in time with one another as they stand in the embrace of one another, until the dragon bows his head back down.
Touching his forehead to hers, so that maybe Neuvillette could get a glimpse into that ever mystical mind of yours. 
“How can I ever hate what I’ve coveted for so long?” He asks. 
That ever-stirring torrent, that spiteful surge, where did it go? Those clamorous voices with their vengeful snarls and cynical bellows, why weren’t they intrepid enough to direct those foul words toward you? 
Not you, never you. How could they ever hate you, the heroine of a Fontainian fairytale they’ve pitifully yearned for so long? 
“Am… am I loved then?” Your lashes were squeezed shut as if death was rapping upon them. Too cowardly to face the verdict. 
“Yes… yes, you devious devil…” Neuvillette couldn’t help but chuckle at such an endearing sight.
He feels your fingers tense around his skin, astonishment in the features of your face. It soon melts away into those welling pools as a smile pushes against the corners of your eyes. 
Pressing your forehead to his, a warm droplet rolls down your cheek and over the curve of your lips. He simply rests his head against yours.
Only now in the last sentence of this retelling of a tale which has been twisted, distorted, and embellished away from the initial narrative did an unwritten truth emerge. 
A clever maiden was just as foolish as a proud dragon. The weight of their foolishness was so great it dragged them beneath the waves and kept them in a cove deep away from the prying eyes of gods. 
However, if this idiotic dragon could intertwine his fingers with yours. If he could be by your side until the hands of time call you back to the earth in this final rendition. 
If he could be the happy ending you deserved, then he wouldn’t mind in the slightest. 
Fin~
©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS. 
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osachiyo · 8 months
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❝You will be mine forever until you perish.❞ ✧ ೃ༄
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—300 (meant to be 200) FOLLOWERS EVENT!
—PAIRING ✰ ZHONGLI x FEM!READER
—CONTENT WARNINGS ✰ explicit smut,noncon, yandere tendencies, mentions of kidnapping, baby trapping, delusional zhongli, unprotected sex, spanking, etc.
—WORDCOUNT ✰ 1.5k
—CHARACTER CHOSEN BY ✰ @lxverss
—EVENT MASTERLIST & RULES ✰
. . . . MINORS DO NOT INTERACT . . . .
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Zhongli's gloved hand came down to your ass harshly for the 18th time tonight, making you bite his thigh in pain. He only chuckled darkly at your feeble attempt of hurting him. His hand slowly smoothes down the skin of your ass, the plump flesh jiggling in his big hand as he admires the reddish tint his brutal hits left behind. The handprints evident on your plump behind. You did not want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears but fucking god did it hurt.
Your muffled cry could be heard when his hand came down on your ass again, the impact stinging even more this time. He shushed your pitiful noises with a mocking smirk, making the tears in your lashline finally fall down your swollen cheeks. "Does it hurt, darling?" He asked with faux sympathy, making you even more enraged. You wanted to scream at him, pull on his hair for ruining your life like this. But you stayed silent, clutching onto him for dear life as he hummed. "Just one more to go, my love. Your punishment will be over soon enough." You grit your teeth in anger. Punishment for what? Trying to escape from this hellhole of a prison he has kept you in? Tears flowed freely down your chin in frustration, soaking his pants. You hated him. Despised this man who took you away from your family, from your normal life. But you hated the fact that you were aroused right now. Aroused from being forcibly bent over his knee and hit by none other than your captor. You felt the shame burn in your tear soaked cheeks, which only made the bulge pressing into your lower tummy harder, bigger.
This time the hit wasn't just on your ass, he smacked the back of your thighs which he knew were sensitive, worsening the pain. You almost jumped out of his lap from the mere force, a broken sob leaves your throat as he only coos at you, praising you for being a good girl for him. He lifted you up and settled you down on the bed, on your tummy because your ass was swollen from the hits. He rubbed your cheeks, even spreading them a little to sneak a view of your pussy and god were you soaked. He smiled, rubbing a finger up and down your pretty folds as you try to squirm away from him but his firm grip is holding you in place. "You act like you dislike it, dear. But can you tell me why you're absolutely leaking down here, hm?" He spoke softly whilst gently rubbing your clit as if to make up for the harsh behaviour only a moment ago. You buried your face further into the silk covered pillow, lips wobbling as you try not to moan from him playing with your greedy cunt. Your mind was telling at you to kick him away, disgust filling your senses. But your body on the other hand was enjoying what the man did to it, much to your dismay.
He raised your hips up, your swollen ass now sticking out in the air while your face was still buried in the pillow. You whined softly when Zhongli kicked your legs open, forcing his leg between them. The rough material of his pants grinding on your already leaking cunt, a damp spot forming on his sleek pants while you writhed in a confusing mixture of rage and pleasure. He pulled back suddenly, lowering himself, now face level with your leaking cunt as you squirm in discomfort. He gently pats your lower back, as if you comfort you. The thought makes you want to scoff. He puffed a warm breath right on your pussy, making you clench around nothing as you feel your eyes tear up again. You were nothing but a slave now. Nothing but his property. Not like you can right back either, as it was a contract between the two of you. Your train of thought cut off as Zhongli kicked a fat stripe up your cunt with his dragon-like tongue, a gasp escaping your mouth. He groaned into your pussy, mumbling something about how good you taste. The vibrations of his voice make you shiver, more of your slick soaking his chin as he laps up what your cunt offers him. The sweet, sweet honey like fluid dripping out of you with each lick and suck, it has him impossibly hard. If you weren't too distracted by how fucking good his long tongue feels shoved in your sensitive core, you'd notice how the way he was humping the bed right now. The tip of his cock leaking with precum as he gets addicted to your divine taste. He pulled his tongue out, fat fingers now replacing the muscle as he wraps his lips around your swollen clit, making you claw the sheets as a broken moan escapes your throat. The rough leather wrapped around his fingers adding a addictive friction in your tight heat, all while he sucks on your pretty little clit so fucking nicely.
"Cum for me, won't you? I know you will. You're my good little girl, aren't you?" He chuckled, his voice a few octaves lower as thick desire coats every word that flows out of his sinful mouth. You don't answer, that earns you a harsh slap against your clit, making you cry out in sudden pain. "Answer, pet."
You chant his name over and over again, pleas and sobs of "y-yes! 'm cummin' so hard! Don't stop-" your eyes rolled back as he sped up the pace of his fingers, curling them just right to make you gush all over his fingers and tongue, even soaking the lower half of his face as he laps up all you have to offer. He helps you ride out your orgasm as you collapse against the sheets, huffing in exhaustion. But you knew he wasn't done yet. Not by the way you could hear his belt hitting the floor as he flipped you on your back, a growl erupting in his chest as he pushed your legs back, your thighs squishing against your pretty breasts, the position making it slightly hard to breath.
He tapped the blunt and swollen head of his cock against your clit one, two, three times before finally pushing in with a pop! You both groan in unison, the thick head splitting you apart. You panted out like a bitch in heat when he started dragging his cock slowly in your cunt, pushing in slowly. As much as he liked to see you in pain, he knew he’s fucking huge. So he had to go slow to not tear your pussy apart. He stared intensely at your cunt opening right up for him, taking his cock like a champ. He rubbed delicate circles on your clit with his thumb, trying to distract you from the scorching hot pain of his cock splitting you in half. He let out a low growl when he finally pushed himself all in your cunt, burying his cock to the hilt. Fat tear droplets that once clung to your lash line now fell on the silken sheets as you clutch the pillow as tight as you can. You hiccuped when he pulled back, pulling his cock almost all the way out before slamming into you again. You could feel every ridge and vein on his throbbing shaft, bumping against your sweet spot oh so effortlessly while all you can do is writhe and whine below him. It didn’t take long for him to pick up the pace, now slamming into your can with such intensity it had you seeing stars. His finger still skilfully stimulating your hardened clit as he grinned wickedly, his canines showing and eyes glowing a golden hue.
Your eyes widened when you felt his cock getting even bigger in you, stretching your velvety walls beyond their limits as you squirted all over his cock, your slick covering his lower abdomen and thighs, the glossy substance rubbing down his fat balls as he groaned at the sight, pushing all of his body weight on you. “Fuck- take my cum, darling, Gonna make you such a sweet mommy. You want that, don’t you? All fucked and swollen with my- ah shit- all fucked and swollen with my kids… yeah? Take my cum- take it. You’ll be mine forever until you perish! ” He babbled, growling as he dove down to bite your neck hard, drawing blood as he filled you up with his seed.
Once you both came down from your highs, he plopped next to you, shoving a pillow underneath your legs to keep all of his sticky release inside of you. But alas, there was just so much of it that it dribbled out from your pussy, soaking the sheets even more, if possible. Zhongli only sighed, patting your head and kissing your temple as you slowly drifted off to sleep.
He was right.
You were going to be his forever.
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—AUTHORS NOTE ✰ you can request the next character for this event in my inbox anytime! thanks for reading y’all! Please comment on this post if you want to be added in the tag list for this series!
—TAGLIST ✰ @luvyein
©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡
3K notes · View notes
allfearstofallto · 29 days
Text
Sleeping Like the Dead
Yandere! Diluc x Fem! Reader
Forced marriage AU
Word Count: 2.3k
Synopsis: Diluc craves your body like a drug, but the only time he can get you, is when you're fast asleep
TW: NSFW, Somnophila, Non-Con, Masturbation (.male), Oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, mentions of breeding/finishing inside
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The only thing that could seem to wake you was thunder. A loud crash and the windows shaking, followed by howling wind, and you'd be up shivering in fear. You'd lie back down once you realized what the noise that woke you was, and you were out like a light. Deep in slumber, snoring ever so softly.
Even though you were married on paper, you and Diluc never shared a marital bed. The marriage was never consummated and the most he'd ever seen of your body was your legs and maybe even a sliver of your stomach in the summer. Other than that, you stayed dressed head to toe like a nun.
He knew it was his fault that you were like this. Being forced into marriage with him, you didn't even want to tempt his urges. You were told time and time again that nothing would happen, not while you didn't want it, but he was failing to believe that himself.
It was when he saw you one night, after you'd just gotten out of the bath. Normally, he stayed in his room at nightfall, but now, he was particularly thirsty. Whether it was good luck or the gods actually blessing him for once, he saw you go into your room and close the door behind you.
Did he buy you those nightgowns? If he did, he definitely didn't remember doing so. But the red haired man did buy you whatever you wanted, no questions asked. So maybe you'd managed to slip an order in for them without him noticing. And archons how he wished he'd noticed.
The swell of your breasts, the curve of your ass, plush thighs and skin still steaming from your bath. You didn't notice him standing in front of the door to his room, but he noticed you. A brief glance was all it took, light work for anyone else who'd been married for as long as you two had, but it was the first time he's seen so much of you, and he felt his pants tighten at the sight.
He stormed back into his room while the memory was still fresh, not even bothering to make it to the bed. The door slammed shut behind him, he pressed his back against it and dropped his pants to his ankles.
It felt like electricity all over his body as he stroked his cock, eyes rolling back, tongue out his mouth. Diluc wasn't a prude, he masturbated when he deemed it necessary, which was when he got erections that were particularly stubborn and annoying, but this was the first time in his life that it'd ever felt so good.
It only took a few pumps and suddenly he was moaning into his hands, hips twitching as his cock shot ropes of cum onto his carpeted floor. He panted watching himself make this mess, but his mind shifted onto how you could clean it up. And his length refused to go soft. He fucked his fist for the rest of the night.
Diluc often heard stories of how hard it was to wake you up. That's when he learned how truly a heavy sleeper you were.
“The lady slept through breakfast again today,” a maid would say in a whisper. They thought he couldn't hear them, but as long as they weren't saying anything rude about you, he acted oblivious to it.
“She fell back asleep after I woke her up three times!”
“I called for her for a full five minutes, and she barely stirred,”
Temptation is a hell of a drug. Satisfaction is even more addicting. Maybe that's why he decided to visit your room one night. Hours after you'd left your bath and when he was sure you were asleep, he eased your door open and stepped inside. His heart was racing, afraid that you wouldn't be asleep, but instead sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting to confront him.
But you weren't. You were just like how he'd thought you’d be. Asleep in bed, lying on your stomach with your arms wrapped around a pillow and pulling it into a tight embrace. Your blanket was thrown haphazardly over your body, you obviously kicked a lot in your sleep, making it shuffle around.
Exhaling the quietest deep breath he could muster, he pulled that blanket to the side. Sure enough, like the maids said, you didn't stir, and much to his pleasure, you were wearing another one of those revealing nightgowns. With one leg slightly up, he could get a good glimpse of your round ass and your panties that seemed to be slipping between your moist lips.
He sucked in air through his teeth, taking in every inch of your body. Every curve, every soft piece of skin. He'd mentally promised himself this would be a one time thing. It felt awful invading your privacy like this, but his hormones were getting the better of him.
His cock was released from his pants and he began pumping it furiously. Biting his lip to hold back the moans once again, he watched the way your chest rose and fell as you slept. It only took a little bit and he was cumming, quicker than he ever had in his entire life and more intensely than he'd ever felt.
The rational part of his mind told him to leave no messes, so he made sure to cover the leaking tip of his cock with his hand to not spill his seed everywhere. Still, he couldn't help himself. He dipped a finger in his own cum, then pressed it against your slightly open mouth, wanting you to at least taste him a little.
The sight of you suckling that cum off his finger, lips pursed and wet with drool, the sight had him hard again already, but he decided against tempting fate. He'd finish himself off in his room again. This was a one time thing after all.
Was what he'd told himself, but he found himself in front of your door again, going to your room almost every night. It was like an addiction, standing in your room next to your sleeping form and fucking his cock into his hand while looking at you. And he grew bolder as the nights went on.
Moving your panties to the side to finally get a full view of that wet cunt, rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips to get you to suckle on it like before, he even managed to slip a finger inside your entrance, getting to feel your warm walls for the first time. The way you coated his fingers nearly made him grunt and he thrusted it in and out of you, watching your face contort in your sleep, little moans and mewls dropping from your lips.
Diluc imagined that it was his cock instead of his finger getting to fuck your pussy, that it was his cock making your eyebrows knit together and your fingers twitch. He could only imagine though, his other hand fisting his cock at the same pace as his finger.
He'd even gotten so bold as to start licking your cunt. His tongue poking out of his mouth, he'd tongue at your clit and watch you squirm in your sleep. Your taste was intoxicating, the juices your tight hole would secrete tasted better than what celestia would feel like, and while lapping up your folds between your legs, his dick would twitch and he'd cum inside his pants, completely untouched.
All good things must come to an end. A sad, but truthful statement. And Diluc wanted this to end. He really did. Each day he'd say that this would be the last one, that he wouldn't do this to you again, that it was becoming too risky, but sure enough he was back at your door the next day. He'd spend the whole night finding new ways to pleasure himself with your sleeping body.
All good things come to an end. Maybe he should've been thinking that when he arrived at your door on the night of a harsh thunderstorm. If his mind wasn't clouded by lust, if all his blood wasn't flowing to his lower regions, then maybe he would've remembered how particularly scared of thunderstorms you were. If his face wasn't buried between your legs again, then maybe he would've remembered the maids saying the only time you woke up easily, is when there was a storm and heavy wind outside. If he wasn't pumping his cock while licking at your pussy, going practically drunk from your taste, maybe he would've noticed that you'd begun to stir more than usual, more than out of a sleepy, unintentional pleasure.
The last thing Diluc was expecting was to look up and meet your gaze. With his lips still suctioned around your clit, your face was a mixture of disgust and mostly fear. Eyes wide and filled with tears, you opened your mouth, maybe to scream, maybe to yell at him, he didn't know. He was on top of you before you could let out a peep, one of his hands covering your mouth. After a bit of a struggle, he managed to use the other hand to hold both your wrists above your head.
“I'm- I'm sorry!” He gasped as you thrashed beneath him, but you were no match for his strength and all you were doing was wearing yourself out, “I-i swear! I don't know what came over me!”
But something has been coming over him for weeks, months even. If you knew how long he'd been doing this, you'd look at him in even more horror. Your eyes. So big and filled with tears, it only made his heart thump against his chest harder, but what else was he to do?
He laid on top of you, hand covering your mouth for what felt like hours, dick still twitching and conveniently between your folds. This was the worst time for him to be hard, not while you were awake. Not while you were scared of him to the point of crying, but he couldn't help it. It was you. You did this to him.
“I'm so so sorry,” he muttered as he angled his hips, the tip of his cock finally at your entrance. He didn't think your eyes could open any wider, but sure enough, they did when he forced every inch of himself inside you, bottoming out without stopping while pleading for your forgiveness. Your yelp, the noise you made as you were made to take him, was muffled by his palm, body squirming even more as you tried to get away.
He always said his first time with you would be gentle. It would be loving as passionate. He would take things slow and kiss every inch of you, to make sure you were ready for him. But the way you felt around him, the way you clenched around his length, it felt like his hips had a mind of their own as they started a rough, brutal pace. Slapping against yours so hard, even the headboard of the bed had begun to hit the wall.
“Fuck! Ahh! Fuck fuck! I'm so sorry! Hnng- please…ah! Please! I'm sorry,” he whined, but he didn't slow down for a second. You were so warm inside. So wet. This was made for him, he was sure of it, “Please, you- you hah- have to forgive me.”
You could thrash and squirm and cry as much as you wanted to, but Diluc had had his taste and he wouldn't be satisfied with any less anymore. He kept fucking into you, pounding you so hard, rutting his hips into you like an animal in heat.
You saw the way his eyelids flutter, you felt the way his hips stuttered, his pace grew sloppy, his grip loosened, drool fell from his lips, his moans grew breathier. You saw it all and you knew what was about to happen.
“Fuck,” he gasped between thrusts, eyes rolled back. He forced his dick as he could inside you, balls deep and held it there, feeling the way your silken walls contracted around it, “I'm gonna cum.”
There was no way to tell him no with his hand over your lips, so you were made to watch and feel in horror as he grew even more aggressive with his fucking. There were no thoughts behind his eyes, just pleasure, just lust and the primal urge to finish.
“Inside. Hah- aanh. Cumming inside, fuck!” He affirmed your fears through his filthy moans. His dick twitching inside you made your heart sink. You could feel it. The way his cum was spitting out of his length and hitting your walls. It felt neverending, like he'd stored so much waiting for this moment, some of it even spilling back out of your entrance and onto his balls.
Reality must've hit him after he came, because he was off of you in an instant. His length softened and his face filled with dread. Cum leaked onto your bedsheets, but despite the fact that he was no longer muffling you with his hands, you couldn't scream. You couldn't even think for a second as you realized what happened.
He looked just as scared as you did, but why? What gave him the right? Why did he deserve to be scared when he was the one who did it?
“I fucking hate you,” you spoke through strangled sobs and you watched his world crumble.
Those words felt like you were slicing his heart out and stabbing it over and over again. They made him tear up as well. But somehow, the sight of you, disheveled, with his seed leaking from your hole, somehow that made his dick twitch back to life. Even your crying face, while not as appealing as you sleeping peacefully, was gorgeous. Arousing even.
His cock twitched back to life as he looked upon you, half undressed and practically ready for him. He began a slow crawl towards you again, his urges wanting to take over once more. You already hated him. What was the harm in doing more?
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dex0s · 6 months
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Boo! I’m back and I’m working on the genshin and honkai star rail smut
Imagine this…
Gamer/streamer boyfriend having his puppy suck his cock for milk. You try not to make a noise so the chat wouldn’t hear you but you end up failing.
“Look puppy the chat’s hungry to see you bounces on daddy’s cock”
Gamer/steamer boyfriend who makes chat pay to hear your pretty little moans.
“Thanks for 50 bucks daddy’s_home#1 !” (Stop I’m laughing rn you better understand why)
Gamer/steamer boyfriend that does special steams or video for paid members
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“Be a good puppy and give what the chat paid for :)”
Gamer/steamer boyfriend who is very over protective like scary dog privilege especially at fan meets
“hey.Hey! Watch where you put your hands at”
Gamer/steamer boyfriend = sugar daddy $$
(I’m so sorry for using puppy. I have used any other name, but I decided to use that one and it reminds me of that Deku tiktok videos crying inside rn)
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Note
Imagine having the dendro symbol on your womb as Tighnari breeds you to hell and back.
Periods suck so much, so I will take any opportunity to be horny. Hopefully that can distract me for a while.
WARNING! This post contains NSFW content!
Minors and ageless/blank blogs DNI! Any and all rulebreakers will be blocked!
CW: yandere content, sub!gn!reader, somewhat implied afab reader, overstim (both parties), creampie(s), breeding kink, biting (once)
--
TIghnari kept on thrusting, despite the way his body begged for a break. It wasn't enough. He had to keep going.
More, more, more, mo-
His train of thought was cut short as his spine and tail stiffened up at the sensation of another orgasm. If his mind wasn't going white, he might have registered your yelps of pain as he sank his teeth into your nape.
He panted as he released his mouth's hold, the fatigue finally catching up to him. He can't keep going for much longer, if at all. Not in his condition.
Yet he did not want to give up yet. Even as his cock felt so overstimulated to the point of pain, his balls tight and cum barely coming out anymore, he could not throw in the towel. Until he saw that mark on you, until he was certain that you would go on to carry his kits, he could not stop.
Fortunately for him, he did not need to wait long. When he finally turned your beyond-tired body over, he saw it; a light green mark right there on your lower stomach. The sight suddenly filled him with satisfaction and a warmth that was enough to make him drop down onto the bed, beside your sleeping form.
He had succeeded in his mission. After some much needed rest, he would be sure to prepare for your future together. You were his now and he was not going to let this opportunity go.
--
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taintedbenevolence · 5 months
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YAN! WRIOTHESLEY X FEM! READER
m i n o r s d o n o t i n t e r a c t !
" 𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒. "
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— 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 
do not interact/read if the following triggers you! MENTIONS OF / IMPLIED STALKING, IMPLIED MURDER, MENTIONS OF BLOOD, USE OF APHRODISIACS, ODAXELAGNIA, NON-CONSENSUAL DISPLAY OF AFFECTION, IMPLIED MASTURBATION, UNPROTECTED SEX, BREEDING KINK, ORAL SEX [RECEIVING], AND FINGERING IMPLIED / DESCRIBED.
OVERPROTECTIVE AND TOXIC / OBSESSIVE / POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR.
        •,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,• You should've known better than to blindly follow an order to enter Wriothesley's office that day.
Your morning had started off rather normal, with the exception of Sigewinne visiting you to leave you a letter written by none other than the Duke. At first, you thought it was just a notice for you, one related to business matters, or one about ordeals within the Fortress.
The letter resulted to be nothing at all what you expected it to be.
It was merely a note. "Please pass by my quarters when you have time today. Preferably during evening hours. I'd like to have a chat with you." That was it. Nothing more, nothing less. Simple, direct, and straight to the point. Just like the man himself.
The little Melusine who handed you the letter wore a bright yet small smile on her face as she stood up straight. "It seems you've caught the eye of His Grace," she says, almost teasingly, though you shook your head. "I wouldn't go as far as to say I've caught the attention of someone like him," you reply with a wry smile, though a part of you silently wishes it were otherwise.
But you had caught his eye, and from far early on too. The Lord of the Fortress of Meropide rarely traveled to the surface. It wasn't every once in a million years, naturally, but, it wasn't a common sight. Most cases, he was there strictly on business and other important matters rather than on vacation.
That, however, changed the moment he saw you. You were breathtaking, and better yet, you were not intimidated by his presence alone. Most people would keep their distance, look away, unable to meet his gaze, and lack the ability to keep their composure around him. But you?
You were perfectly fine being near him, wearing small smiles that gave him absolute butterflies, as much as he hated to admit. You were honest and though maybe partly reserved, still willing to share a proper chat when he approached you. He liked that. Sigewinne noticed.
And he wasn't sure whether he liked the little Melusine nosing around whenever he met you, because for all he knew, she could start getting ideas, and that... wouldn't have been ideal, put it lightly.
Nevertheless, it's easy to say that his visits to the surface became more frequent. He made your acquaintance and quickly enough became friends with you. It was smooth riding so far, and he was finding that the situation was going well for him.
Occasionally, the two of you would talk over a cup of tea and you'd chat about how things had been in your lives, whether maybe you'd lost a pendant you liked, or how there was a coffee you tried somewhere that was rather bitter, or how he had less work than usual, so he decided to spare some time to relax on the surface.
It was fine.
That is until he found out you had fallen in love the past days. But oh no, you were not in love with him. You were in love with someone else. That was the issue. So he began to inquire. How did this person act? How did you meet them? Do you think they'd make a great partner?
Simple questions just to see what was your view of them. 
Don't get him wrong — he's glad that you've found someone you love. He's just upset that the person you've fallen for isn't him. So he then decides to find the person for whom you fell for. It doesn't take long for him to find them, and it's not much effort to convince them that he's only visiting on behalf of business matters.
He returns every so often back to the surface to  meet with you and to keep eyes on your interest, making sure there are no "unwanted" advances between the two of you, and when he's at the Fortress, he simply has to hope that nothing occurs. Having someone work for this type of thing would be rather inefficient and would raise unnecessary suspicions.
Sure, people don't really need to understand what the Duke's motives are, but that doesn't refrain them from filing a report to the Chief Justice about unusual behavior. The two are acquainted, after all, and Neuvillette is more than adept at reading the behavior of humans.
So with that in mind, he decided it was best to do things himself. After all, if you want a job done right, you have to do it yourself. One day, whilst you conversed with Wriothesley, you spoke of how you planned to finally confess. He was immediately interested, and he, of course, listened, even if deep in his mind the person whom you treasured was a pool of blood.
If your confession proved to be successful, he'd have to find a way to slowly seed problems into the relationship. He isn't fond of what he'd have to do, but unfortunately enough, the small feeling of jealousy that has wrapped itself around his heart is eating away at him. 
He'd find the little details that bring you and your significant other apart and slowly begin to rip those traits up to the surface. He'd at times advise you that there were things you should watch out for, given this would be your first time in a relationship (or he'd assume so), and most likely, he'll find a way to tear down the relationship bit by bit and make it seem like it wasn't even his fault. It will appear as if it was just that you were mistaken, that this relationship wouldn't really work out.
That being said, if your confession resulted in a rejection, he'd comfort you. He knows how much it'd hurt having your feelings being rejected like that, and he especially doesn't want you crying for someone else who isn't deserving of causing your sorrow. He wouldn't want you tearing up to the one who had the audacity of even making you cry. He'd probably be mad at the person, but not enough to walk back at them and talk to them about it, as much as he'd wish to rip them into two. He exercises self-control, and somehow manages to control himself.
Depending how the person reacted to your confession, would Wriothesley's anger be gauged. Unfortunately enough for you, and much to Wriothesley's pleasure, you were rejected. Now, don't get him wrong; he wants you to have a successful relationship, but he also doesn't want you being with someone that doesn't deserve you.
So the moment that you come to him, your expression more solemn and down than usual, he already knows what's happened. He invites you over to the Fortress inside to cheer you up and for a change in atmosphere. While taking you to a place meant for imprisonment isn't exactly one's definition of "fun," you were rather curious to see what was the place this man called home.
To your surprise, it was well kept, and didn't look like it was rotting as you thought it would be. He also showed you around his quarters, to let you know where he'd be, and of course he introduced you to Sigewinne, who was more than happy to meet you.
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[| "Y/N, this is Sigewinne, our head nurse." [| "Oh, is this the person you've been rambling on about lately, Your Grace?" [| "... Sigewinne."
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You could've sworn that you saw a small smirk on the Melusine's face because she knew that His Grace was head over heels for you. Of course, you didn't know that, but... she did. You were later on dismissed, and for the next weeks, you stayed at the Fortress, given you met several new people in there and wished to get to know them better.
Wriothesley being the busy man he is, doesn't always have time to get out of his quarters, but god, with you around he can't help but give a few more rounds to the Fortress just to watch you as you go about your day. How he remembers your smiles, when you mentioned to some your hobbies, your interests, and so on so forth...
His gaze often falls on your small frame and his mind will wander to how perfectly it will fit against his larger figure when he's deep inside of you and—
Wriothesley thinks this is wrong. He thinks this is twisted in more ways than one, but he can't bring himself to stop it. He's helpless to the thought of you running your hands through the soft tufts of his hair whilst he holds you to himself, the way your lips would feel when matches them with his own, or how beautiful you'd sound when he inserts his digits into you as you struggle to not moan out his name.
He hates that he can't feel you. It's driving him mad.
Sometimes he's filling in and signing the mountain of paperwork he has on his desk and his mind trails off to you, and archons it's not even a minute before he has to stand up and drink some tea to clear his head. On some occasions, he'll feel so utterly pent up that there's nothing left for him to do than to lock his doors and let his hand soothe his frustrations and urges while he wishes his hand were your own or your mouth instead.
His mind is clouded with thoughts he wouldn't speak of in front of the rest and a part of him feels guilty about feeling in such a way towards you, yet he knows he wouldn't have it any other way. He's completely enthralled by you and obsessed by the thought of being able to claim you as his own.
It grows to the point that every day he sees you becomes unbearable. He can't stand how your sweet voice falls on those who don't deserve to hear it, how you smile at the prisoners whenever you get to speak with them and help them out during their shifts, how your hands sometimes barely brush together when you walk amidst crowds and he swears that a single touch of yours is enough to make him want to pick you up right then and there and fuck you raw away from prying eyes.
He is desperate. And he needs you.
So he decides that today is that day. After a few days of spending time with Sigewinne in order to mix in certain herbs with tea, he ends up with a particularly sweet tea. He reserves it for you. He's pacing in his office before he sits down in a relaxed manner, waiting for you to enter.
And the moment he hears the gentle knocking on his door accompanied by your voice asking for permission to enter, he can already feel his heart hammering. Allowing you to enter, you close the doors behind you, and for a man who's obsessed in every sense of the word, he's certainly composed.
He gestures for you to take a seat, to which you comply, and then he goes off to get the tea. After all, what better way to host a small meeting like this than to talk over a cup of tea? You're able to take in its sweet aroma and taste, and to say you liked it may have been an understatement.
"So how have you been finding the Fortress?" he muses, one leg crossed comfortably over the other. You only smile softly as you respond, taking a quick sip of your tea before answering. "Certainly different than what I expected it to be, but it seems to be managed well."
His Grace only smiles in return, and he then clicks tongue. "Say, have you enjoyed your stay here?" he asks, taking a sip as he waits. "It's been great. While some have a sharp tongue, there are a couple of people who have been good company, even if most of the time I'm around Sigewinne," you answer.
"Speaking of, where has she been?" you state, because now that you thought about it, you hadn't seen the little Melusine around the Fortress recently. Wriothesley just blinks as he then slightly mouths an 'oh.' "She's been off gathering herbs for medicine and treatment," he replies, before finishing the rest of the tea in his cup.
You hum in understanding as you stay still, having finished your own cup as well. "I see. Anyways, thank you for the tea," you reply in gratitude. The Duke only nods, as he remains there, seemingly observing you for any changes.
The two of you keep conversing, but throughout the conversation, you start to take note of something. You feel a little... moist. Perhaps you were exerting yourself too much recently?.. No, that couldn't be it — you felt as if you were getting warm all of a sudden. You couldn't exactly place your finger on what the sensation was.
Additionally, you couldn't exactly shake off the feeling no matter how hard you tried to focus on the man in front of you, and as time passed, you began to lose focus on the conversation you held with Wriothesley and your attention shifted to yourself, your gaze falling in between your thighs, the space feeling rather wet, for a lack of better words, the only thing in your mind being how unusually much you wished to be—
"Y/N?"
Wriothesley's voice snapped you back to the present as you felt blood rush to your face. No, that wasn't right, why were you feeling like this...? This was wrong... The man in front of you could only pretend for so long that he didn't know what was happening, but he wasn't in a far too different situation. The seemingly faint bulge in his pants grew ever slightly, and he was already starting to feel a little trapped and tight in his coat. He knew that you were starting to receive the effects already, so it was only a matter of time.
"Are you feeling well?" He murmurs, placing a hand on your shoulder before giving it a light squeeze, and you can swear that for a split moment you almost shiver. "... I.. it's.. sorry," you manage to murmur as you sigh quietly as you shook your head. "Is it just me, or.. is it getting rather hot in here..?"
Oh, how he wants to laugh.
You almost feel stupid having asked something of the like, and Wriothesley's barely holding himself together as he breathes quietly and calmly. He's on the verge of taking you right here and then, but he decides against it just to see what you'll do. "I feel it too," he replies relaxed, and your eyes seem to slightly light up. "Oh, so it's not just me..? That's at least a bit reassuring..."
He's so fucking desperate. Can't you tell?
And then he asks the magical question. "Why do you think I asked you to come in here?"
You blink, thinking through the question, before answering, a bit perplexed. "Because you wanted to talk...?" you reply. The man chuckles softly, though he shakes his head. "More than that, there was... something else." Confusion begins to run through your mind as you try to inquire as to what he means but before you can say another word, he picks you up, and carries you away as if you were nothing but a feather.
He locks the door to his office, and he walks up the stairs with you in his arms. "Wriothesley, what're you doing?—" you can barely say, your face pressed up against his clothed chest, but he silences you as he lays you flat on his desk.
His firm hands are quick to undo your clothing in your lower body, as he he carefully but easily slides off your undergarments. You can only feel the heat rush through you as your heart pounds. "Wriothesley, what are you—"
And your voice leaves you as you feel him spread apart your legs with his cold fingers, a bitter chill running through your spine as his tongue only starts to tease you by dampening furthermore your already wet folds. You can only bite your tongue to hold in a moan, though it proves futile when he begins to work on your clit, teasing and tracing faint circles with his tongue, causing a few whines to escape your mouth.
You can't tell whether to feel pleasured or scared. Wriothesley gives you no time to think.
He makes no effort to stop whilst you can only grasp and tug his hair, while you nervously and shakily run your hands down his smooth, black locks that glisten beneath the amber lights of his office. It doesn't take much longer for him to reach your entrance, and you clasp your mouth with your hand as you inevitably moan involuntarily. You feel your eyes practically roll back as you try to maintain your gaze focused on the raven-haired male, feeling the wet muscle continuously slipping in and out of your tightened entrance and you're certainly grateful the walls of his office are soundproof.
"Wriothesley, I can't— f-fuck!"
You can't help but squirm, your heart racing as your chest heaves up and down. Your vision is somewhat hazed, your attempts to shift comfortably failing as a new wave of pleasure surges through you as your entrance and clit are endlessly teased and caressed, a pressure building up inside you.
He's eating you out, and you're not even exactly sure if your mind would agree that you enjoy it, but your body sure as hell is, because your senses are getting stimulated beyond possibility. Your breathing is definitely evident and no longer quiet, and you can barely muffle how vocal you're growing until at a moment, you feel him retract at last.
Yet before you're able to question it, he repositions himself above you, and he's pinning your wrists above your head, his knees at either side of you as his imposing figure looms over your body, casting a slight shadow on you. "You sure are — hah — quite loud," he whispers with a teasing smirk edging on his face, his tone of voice growing a bit rasped as he reaches for an item that dangles on his hips — one you're quite familiar with.
Handcuffs.
And before you know it he's clipped them onto you and bound your wrists to his desk above your head, not allowing you to move them, their silver hue glister, glimmering in the dark shadows. "You're fucking mine," he snarls before he kisses you on the lips with fervor, almost as if he might just devour you on the spot if you don't do anything about it.
He's rough and passionate, not giving you a chance to breathe. The sudden ferocity and intensity in his act is more than enough to leave you breathless whilst you try to get used to it, to which he responds with a low growl. It's as if he's been starved for ages and his hunger is to never be sated. He bites down softly on your lower lip, effectively causing you to part your lips, giving him a chance to slide his tongue within.
The rush it gave you was almost feverish, even if it was wrong at its core. He tastes sweet, you think, as your tongues mingle together, the sweetness flooding your palates. Your train of thought was interrupted once more when he finally separated, and you breathed heavily. He was catching his breath, his mouth slightly hung open, giving you a view of the sharp canines he possesses. A small, barely noticeable trail of saliva connected your lips to his own, and he stared down at you, licking his lips to rid the saliva before his gaze landed on your neck. His hands, even with wraps and binds, were cold to the touch as he caressed your soft skin.
You're still catching your breath, blood rushing to your face when you feel him bite into your flesh, a quiet cry akin to a whine leaving you, only fueling his desire. He quietly growls, and he almost seems feral as he licks over the wound, moving quickly to other uncovered areas in your neck as he litters kisses around it. He bites hard and deep, sucking on the skin just enough to leave a couple of hickeys on you.
"You're all mine."
No words are required to be exchanged as he pauses, just leaning back. Seeing your taken-aback expression, he just chuckles softly, his icy gaze combined with the ever earnest smirk he wears already enough to keep you still beneath his iron grip. "I could just eat you up and you'd beg for more, wouldn't you, huh?" He states, his voice sounding like music to your ears.
"Bet you'd want me to fuck you dumb too."
He tugs on his tie, letting it fall loose untied with ease as his coat soon follows, allowing you to gain an exposed view of his scarred body. There's nothing more you'd like than to run your hands through his chest but the handcuffs don't allow you to move your arms in the slightest. He's depriving you of one pleasure, and he relishes in that.
"My eyes are up here, sweetheart."
And god does he love it when you try to avert your gaze in embarrassment, knowing that your eyes had solely been focused on his body. He takes his hand and tilts your chin so you're forced to meet his gaze, and he delights in the way you shudder at his mere touch — he has you at the mercy of his fingertips, he'd bet.
You're being driven mad, something he enjoys — he's no sadist, but he definitely likes seeing you having to put up with the building pressure and urges he held back on this entire time. He decides to toy furthermore with you, as he slowly begins to unclasp the belt around his waist as his pants come off loose.
You know what the man wants.
It doesn't take much time for the rest to come off, and it's very clear to you where this is going. The back of your mind is screaming at you to run, to move, anything, but your body just lies and stays still without making a sound. His hips are pressed into yours, and he has zero hesitation as he begins to slide himself inside you, positioning himself as you whimper, tears beginning to prick at the corners of your eyes as you feel your walls stretching to accommodate to the sudden, large length that was pushed inside of you. It's too much for you, but he hushes you, caressing your face softly and wiping your tears.
"You're going to take all of it in for me, aren't you? Hah, so fuckin' tight..."
It hurts, and his gentle caresses are a sharp contrast to how he continuously pushes inside you until he finally reaches that place that would make you scream out in pleasure. And he knows it. He's impatient, and won't waste another second, and in just a few more seconds, he's already ramming his hips against yours, bulging cock sliding in and out at a pace you can no longer register.
"God — you're so good for me — no one else is allowed to see you like this, understood?"
The both of you are lost in lust, and your heart hammers in you whilst fear and pleasure courses right through your veins. You get the feeling he's not just pleasuring you — he's marking you, through and through, making sure that by the time you're walking out, people will only perceive his scent on you wherever you go. He wants you and you alone. 
Anyone who wishes to debate his posture is more than welcome to have a word with him in the ring.
You're barely able to choke out his name as he fucks you senseless, giving you no space to plead or speak at all, for that matter. The only noise you get out are your helpless moans as you shudder from each thrust. He's feral, hungry and starved for your love, and he wants to consume every bit of it.
"Wriothesley — fuck — I-"
If it weren't for the fact he's fucking you to oblivion on his desk, he'd probably find it amusing how helpless you've become in the span of a few minutes. He loves it. Your eyes are half-lidded and brimming with tears, your moans resounding through the entirety of his office, to which thankfully, there is no one else within except the two of you. You might've not registered it but you're sure he's already torn through all the clothes covering your chest too, leaving you now entirely exposed and vulnerable to his touch.
You start to feel the building pressure you had before, and your breathing is labored, heavy. You don't think you can take this for much longer, your folds wet and walls tightening around his cock. You really weren't sure how in hell you were going to fit all of it in, but you seemed to be taking it rather well.
Your synchronized moans and his groans paired together combine, slowing into a perfectioned, rhythmic catharsis as you finally reach your climax, your fluids coating him and staining the firm material beneath you, to which you can't help but wonder how exactly does he plan to clean.
Yet as you finally release, he still doesn't stop. He's not stopping, not yet, not when he's finally got you fucked over and whimpering, helplessly begging him to cum inside of you. All of your senses and inhibitions have been tossed aside, leaving you a forlorn, flustered mess. He craves you, he might just devour you, he's unable to contain himself.
"You look so adorable when you beg, yeah? So wet and tight for me, 'M just gonna have to keep going for you..."
He is relentless. By the time he cums, you're already left breathless, voice broken and unable to say a thing other than a quiet whine. He's breathing heavily, letting his seed settle within you as his residual flows leak through your thighs, painting you as his own.
"Hah... that look in your eyes.. you wanna be rewarded, don't you? 'M just gonna have to stuff you full, hm?"
He nuzzles his head in your neck, letting the soft tufts of his hair caress your skin softly. He's still inside you, his cum still leaking through your thighs and out of your worn-out, throbbing pussy. Slowly, he slides out of you, earning a faint, muffled hum akin to that of a moan as you catch your breath. "Wrio..." you mumble out, and he presses a light kiss to your neck, right on a mark he left by earlier.
"'M gonna fill you up and make you cum 'till you can't think..." he murmured, one of his hands soothingly caressing your neck as he runs his hand through your back, his other, free hand reaching down towards your wet folds, his fingertips tracing lazy circles on your clit as he teases you gently, causing a few moans and whimpers to escape you. "'M gonna breed you.. make you all mine, darlin'."
He inserts two of his digits inside you fervently, fingering you, keeping you wet and tight as you squirm from his touch. He pulls in and out, unending and denying your pleads to stop. "P-please, Wrio — fuck — I can't-" He ignores your cries. Instead, he presses kisses across your jawline until meeting your lips, keeping you encased, trapped in a passionate kiss whilst being pleasured to no end.
"You can take it. Easy there, love."
You only respond with a whine as you feel yourself slowly reach your climax again, fluids seeping through your body and covering his digits, that slowly pull out with a wet sound. Your mouth is slightly hung open, your face with faint tints of red hidden by your disheveled hair, your body numb and almost limp.
The black-haired man simply held you tight, holding you close, never letting go, his voice whispering to you sweet nothings. His grip was tight, and unbeknownst to you, tears slowly smeared, falling across your face. You felt filthy. You felt violated. Anything but loved. And you knew more than ever, that from this day forth, you'd only ever be his.
His to love. His to hold.
For a night and forevermore, you were solely his to behold.
•,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,••,¸,.·' '·.,¸,•
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A/N - I am utterly in love with this man. This prompt was also meant for yesterday bc Halloween n all, but I didn't make it- so- here you are- a little belated but still here! Same applies to the Imbibitor Lunae prompt that is soon to come! Love you all, remember to stay safe.
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zxphy · 1 year
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🌧 Yelan x Nonbinary! Reader.
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Tws/cws: Mommy kink, AFAB reader, strap-ons, can be read as dubcon, Yelan fingerblasting you into oblivion, and INCREDIBLY cringe writing. Btw you're autistic, if you weren't before, you are now lmao. Also may have TERRIBLE spelling and spelling.
Smut written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable.
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You and the cobalt-haired agent stood alone in one of Wangshu Inn's many corridors. You have one job as a Fatui soldier.
Assassinate Yelan.
You looked her up and down as you trailed behind her. You honestly thought that she was really attractive. You quickly snapped out of your thoughts and followed close behind her, she turned a corner. Now's your chance.
You raise your sword in the air ready to strike down on her with your blade with the intention to kill.
Too bad, the sneak attack didn't work, not by a long shot. Yelan was two steps ahead, before you could even come close to killing her, she grabbed your hands quickly disarming you quickly, and pinned you against a wall with your arms behind your back.
"My, my, what do we have here? Someone trying to kill me?" She asked, pressing your own blade against your neck.
"I-I don't know what you're t-t-talking about ma'am." You stammered out quickly, you didn't wanna die like this, but you don't want to betray her majesty. You have to think of something, fast.
"Don't play coy with me, darling." The agent pressed the blade slightly harder on your neck, more specifically, against your carotid. "Who sent you? And no dilly dallying." She continued.
You whimpered as you felt the cold metal against your throat. Shit. You can't die, not like this.
"The fatui m-ma'am. I was sent p-personally by her majesty." You finally let out.
"Awh, the Tsarita herself sent someone for little ol' me?" Yelan pouted before smirking, "Doesn't she have better things to do?"
Remembering that you're both in a public corridor, Yelan lowered the sword from your neck, pressing the tip of the icy cold metal against your exposed back. Enough to prick your delicate skin, but not enough to draw blood.
"Let's go somewhere I little more private, sweetheart." You blushed at the pet name and nodded slowly.
-------------------------------------------------------
Yelan lead you to her room of the inn and shoved you in before walking in and closing the door behind her.
"Oh right! Before you dare to try anything, give me your hands, now." She glared at you, and you quickly raised your hands for her.
The agent grabbed your wrists and tied them together with some kind of hydro rope.
It's icredibly firm, keeping you in place.
Your mind started to wonder off in a different direction. You started to blush.
You snapped out of your thoughts as Yelan climbed on top of you, your cheeks growing hotter and hotter by the second.
Yelan is incredibly intimidating, but in a hot way, you found yourself getting wet. You shamefully rubbed your thighs together as you felt the agent's warm breath against your neck.
(Un)Fortunately for you, that didn't go unoticed, she flashed a mischievous grin. "Well sweetheart, getting a bit excited are we?"
You didn't answer.
She put her finger on your chest and slowly dragged it down to your crotch, wetness seeping from your pussy through your shorts, you were soaked.
"Goodness dear, I didn't think you'd be enjoying this this much."
Yelan started rubbing your pussy through the shorts of your uniform. Not too long after that she shoved her hands into your shorts, past your panties, dipping her index finger in and out of your cunt.
Soon enough, she added another digit, slick sounds of the agent's fingers filling the lavish inn's bedroom.
"H-hey, wait I don't t-think we should-" She cuts you off.
"Ah ah ah darling, don't speak. Just relax and enjoy." She said in a sickly sweet voice and had pure lust in her eyes. She abruptly sped up the pace, and you feel the knot that's been building up inside you about to burst. The agent's long digits going in and out of your puffy cunt is all you could think about. You stiffen as you feel an orgasm approaching.
Yelan looked at you with a smug grin on her face, "Yeah? Gonna cum sweetheart?" Another one of her fingers found your clit and began rubbing circles on the sensitive bundle of nerves.
"Ah- wait! Slow down, I-I'm gonna-"
"Cum? You're gonna cum? Go ahead. Cum for Mommy." She curls her fingers up a bit, hitting that one heavenly spot inside you that makes you scream.
"That's it darling, go on. Make a mess on Mommy's fingers." It was all too much, Yelan's fingers deep in your pussy and rubbing around your puffy clit, you couldn't hold back much longer.
You arched your back and squeezed your eyes shut, the intense sensations between your legs making you squeal incoherent noises like a dummy. Your climax hits you...hard. Your juices gushed and squirted all over the agent's fingers, doing exactly what she wanted.
Making a mess.
You huff and slowly came down from your high, the intense aftermath of your orgasm tiring you out, you let yourself go limp and fall onto the floor.
Yelan got off of you, pulling her hands out of your pants. She scooped you up into her strong arms, and rest you on top of her bed "so you could be more comfortable."
You lay tiredly on the bed, probably about to fall asleep until Yelan spoke up.
"Hold on darling, don't get too relaxed over there, we haven't even gotten to the fun part yet." She smirked and left the room.
The "fun part"? She came back after a quick moment with a strap-on. Whatever tiredness you had vanished and you woke right the fuck up. The dildo attached to the harness was huge. Was that even going to fit inside of you?? You stared at Yelan in utter disbelief. "Ain't no way."
She buckled the harness to her waist and smiled, "Don't worry sweetheart, it's gonna fit."
Yelan brought your body closer to hers, the thin layers of clothes being the only thing separating your core and her cock. "Let's get these pesky clothes out of the way." She peeled off your shorts, quickly discarded them, and smirked when she saw your soaked panties.
She slowly pulled down your frilly panties to your knees, the agent wanted to savour the reveal of your cunt. She spread your legs, and stared at your glistening pussy for a minute, loving how your puffy pussy looks so inviting.
"Alright then, let's get this show started." the agent gripped your hips and slowly but surely started to push inside of your cunt, the juices of your previous orgasm made it much easier.
After what felt like a long time, she finally hilted, the tip of her cock against your cervix. You felt so full.
Yelan stood there for a moment enjoying the sight of you under her and your tight walls wrapped so deliciously around her cock.
However, that didn't last long, cause a short second later, she pulled back, only the tip remaining inside you, then SLAMMED right back in. The process was repeated, over and over and over again, until the noises of skin slapping and your squealing filled the room.
"You're being so loud dear," she said between thrusts, "it's like you want the entirety of the inn to know that I'm fucking you stupid."
"Nghh-!! I'm s-sorry!!" you replied back, trying to keep your composure.
"Don't worry dear. It's okay. Go on, tell the whole world who's making you feel good."
"A-ah!! Mommy is m-making me feel guh-good!!"Yelan's fingers once again found your clit and began rubbing circles into it making you scream out in pure bliss.
"That's it baby, keep making such pretty noises for me!" Yelan pulled out, flipped you over then started pounding into you from behind, going even deeper than before, her cock kissing your cervix with each thrust, making you squeal and moan out in delight.
She sped up her hip movement, each time she hilted in you making you scream as you approached your second high, this one much more intense than the first.
With one hard final thrust, you came. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave as it washed over you, you squirmed and writhed under Yelan as you creamed on her cock, your juices soaking the bed sheets under you.
When you came down from your intense high, Yelan pulled out of you and laid beside you, pulling you close to her body, and began to spoon you. You're too exhausted to object.
She kissed your head and whispered into your ear holding you close.
"I think I'm going to keep you."
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HOLY FUCKING SHIT NUGGETS I FINALLY FINISHED IT. Honestly it came out better than I expected!! I'm sorry it took so long, school is really fuckin me up rn, but better late than never I guess!! I hope you guys enjoyed it!! :3
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exchangestudentnova · 9 months
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GENSHIN IMPACT FICS
[ KAEYA ALBERICH ]
Veluriyam Mirage (NSFW)
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hitomisuzuya · 5 months
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STALKER SCARA STALKER SCARA OVERSTEMING US THE SECOND HE GETS HIS HANDS ON US, HES ROUGH HES JEALOUS HE WANTS U UR HIS
Scaramouche x fem!reader. Overstimulation. Cunilligus. Obsessive behavior. Mentions of stalking and jealousy. Mild degradation. Yandere Scaramouche. Pussy drunk Scara.
😳
There wasn't anywhere you went that Scaramouche didn't follow you. His eyes would always be trained on you from afar, and it helped that you walked practically everywhere. It made it easier for him to follow you.
The green tint of jealousy pooled in his eyes. You'd smiled at Childe several times in passing today. Those smiles should've been only for him. No matter though, Scaramouche would make you forget all about him soon enough.
By overstimulating you while tongue fucking you into oblivion. You would scream it then, cumming hard on his tongue.
His hands felt rough on your thighs, growling as you closed them around his head. He pried them apart, his fingers no doubt going to leave deep bruises on your skin.
Scaramouche had made you cum first on his fingers, pinching and rolling your clit between the pads until you begged for him to put his tongue inside of you. He'd groaned blissfully the moment his lips kissed your soaking cunt.
Shaking fingers tangled in his hair, moaning as you pressed his mouth into your cunt. You grinded your hips slowly into his mouth, eager to soak up any pleasurable friction his mouth could offer you.
Indigo eyes dark with possessive lust, he looked up at you, smirking when he saw you begin to twitch from overstimulation. He lapped his tongue at your cunt appreciatively, sweeping his pierced tongue up inside of you.
Perfect! Overstimulate you so much that it was either focus on him to stay awake, or cry for him to make you cum before you passed out. Either way worked for him since your attention would be focused only on him.
You could barely even think, other than how good his tongue piercing felt scrapping along your sensitive walls. His fingers caressed your hips like they were most precious thing in the world to him, holding your cunt against his mouth as you bucked your hips up.
Your fingernails dug into the back of his head, the dull pain of overstimulation making your legs shake. Scaramouche's tongue lapped obsessively, eagerly drooling on your cunt in anticipation of tasting your cum.
From the way your walls were clamping so tight on his tongue, he knew you were close. Spreading your drenched folds apart, he kitten licked the ball of his tongue piercing across your clit.
"I think..." You trailed off, swallowing a sob of pleasure as it stung white hot behind your eyes.."think I'm gonna cum."
Scaramouche laughed into your cunt, sucking on your clit as he swirled his tongue around it. "Are you that fucked dumb already?" His harsh sucks on your clit made your back arch off of the bed. "You either are or you aren't, you empty headed slut."
"I am! I am!" You cried out, shaking as you squirted on his tongue. You could barely see him through the tears blurring your eyes.
"You taste so fucking good," Scaramouche groaned, brushing his nose on your clit, slurping up your release. "Now relax, I need to taste you again," He teased his tongue at your abused hole when you whimpered blissfully, "I promise you'll cum harder than last time."
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