#douluodalu

˓  ㅤ 𔕛 KINKTOBER 2025 : Drug Gone Wrong

Paring : Tang Chen x Amab Assain!Reader

Rating : nsfw

Words : 2.6K

C/W : bottom tangchen/ amab reader/ top reader / age gab / game gone wrong / overstimulation / loss of virginity / rough sex / dirty talk / smut / kink / belly bulge / hunter / prey / sex while camping / drug.

Version : eng

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

The moon hung low in the night sky, its pale light painting the forest in ghostly silver and deep pools of shadow.

The air was cool and damp, thick with the scent of pine and moss, but beneath it all lay a darker note—a promise of blood and sweat, of need that had been brewing for far too long.

You moved through the trees like a whisper, every step calculated, every breath measured. You had waited weeks for this moment, studied his patterns, watched from the shadows as he cut down enemies and shattered stone with the same calm ease

Tang Chen, the Clear Sky Sect’s final blade, a living legend—and tonight, your target.

You had meant to kill him. You had meant to slip your dagger between his ribs and end the myth with a single stroke.

But as you watched him by the flickering light of his campfire, the flicker of shadow and flame dancing over his sharp, elegant features, you felt the first thread of doubt coil in your gut.

He looked so alive, so powerful, sitting there with his long hair tumbling over his shoulders, his crimson eyes narrowed against the smoke.

And something inside you—something you didn’t want to name—ached to see him brought low not by death, but by you.

Your hand tightened around the hilt of your dagger, your breath shallow as you circled the clearing. He was alone, unguarded, but every inch of him radiated lethal power.

His spirit pressure crackled in the air, making your skin prickle with a thrill you’d never admit. You’d expected fear—expected to feel the icy calm of the kill—but instead, your blood pulsed hot, your thoughts dark and carnal.

The dagger slipped free of its sheath with a soft whisper, the cold steel a promise in your hand. You stepped forward, a phantom in the night, your heart pounding as you closed the final distance.

He moved before you could strike, his head turning just enough for his crimson gaze to lock on yours.

For a heartbeat, the world fell away—no rustling leaves, no crackle of fire, only the hot press of his stare and the sudden, delicious weight of your desire.

“Assassin,” he said, his voice low and smooth, like silk over a blade.

“Do you really think you can kill me?”

You didn’t answer. Words were useless here, nothing but air and heat.

You lunged, your dagger flashing in the firelight, but he was faster—he caught your wrist in a bruising grip, twisting it until the blade clattered to the ground.

You hissed, twisting your body to break free, but he only smirked, his other hand sliding to your throat in a grip that was half-threat, half-caress.

“You’re trembling,” he murmured, leaning in until his breath ghosted across your lips.

“Are you afraid… or excited?”

You shuddered, the heat of him seeping into your skin, his scent—iron and pine and sweat—making your head spin.

Your body was a live wire, every nerve thrumming with the drug’s warmth that still coursed through your veins, every breath ragged with the realization that this was no longer a hunt. It was a surrender.

Your free hand fisted in his hair, yanking him closer, your lips brushing his as you growled out the truth that burned in your chest.

“Both,” said you.

The word was a promise, and he took it—took your mouth with a ferocity that left you gasping. His teeth scraped your lower lip, the metallic tang of blood mingling with the sweetness of his tongue as he claimed you, body and soul.

He pressed you back against the rough bark of a tree, his thigh sliding between yours, the hard line of his cock already straining against the fabric of his pants.

You could feel the heat of him, the pulse of his need, and it made you ache—made you want to tear him open and devour every inch.

You broke the kiss with a gasp, your hand slipping from his hair to his throat, pushing him back just enough to see the flush on his cheeks, the way his pupils had blown wide with hunger.

“On your knees,” your eyes stare at him relentlessly.

The words were a low command, a dark caress, and for a moment he hesitated—proud warrior, living legend, brought to this. But then he sank down, the leaves crunching beneath him as he knelt before you, his breath ragged, his crimson eyes fixed on your face.

You drew your dagger again, pressing the cold steel to his lips, watching as he parted them with a soft, shuddering sigh. He took the blade into his mouth, the silver edge glinting as his tongue flicked out to taste it, a silent offering of surrender.

Your breath caught, your pulse a wild drumbeat as you slid the blade lower, tracing it down his throat, over the sharp line of his collarbone, down to where his shirt hung open, exposing the hard planes of his chest.

He didn’t flinch—didn’t move—just watched you with that hungry, defiant stare that made your blood burn.

You pushed the blade lower still, until it pressed against the waistband of his pants. He gasped, a soft, broken sound that sent a jolt of heat straight to your core.

“Do it,” he rasped. “Take what you want… I’ll give you everything.”

Your hands moved with a practiced, ruthless efficiency, stripping away his clothes until he was bare before you, every inch of hard muscle and pale skin yours to claim.

His cock stood thick and flushed, already leaking, and you could see the way his body trembled with the need to be touched.

You sheathed your dagger, your hands sliding over his shoulders, pushing him back until he lay sprawled in the dirt, the moonlight turning his sweat-slick skin to silver.

You straddled his hips, your own clothes falling away as you pressed the head of your cock against his entrance.

He gasped, his hands fisting in the dirt, the stretch of you inside him making his back arch and his lips part in a breathless moan.

“Look at you… the great Tang Chen, reduced to this.”

“Tell me—tell me how badly you want it.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes dark and wild as he met your gaze.

“I want it… I want all of you. Please… don’t stop.”

You didn’t. You rocked your hips forward, filling him inch by slow, deliberate inch, the tight heat of his body making you groan as you buried yourself deep. He cried out, his hands scrabbling at your shoulders, his thighs trembling as you began to move.

Each thrust was a claim, a brand, your breath ragged as you fucked him harder, the slap of skin on skin echoing through the forest.

His moans filled the night, soft and desperate, the drug’s haze making every sensation sharper, every touch electric.

You leaned down, your lips brushing his ear as you growled.

“You’re mine now, Tang Chen. Say it.”

He shuddered, his voice breaking as he gasped out the words.

“Yours… I’m yours. Please—harder—fuck—!”

You gave him what he begged for, your hips slamming into his with a brutal rhythm that had his whole body shaking, the bulge of you moving inside him visible against the taut skin of his belly.

You pressed your hand there, feeling the way he clenched around you, every pulse of pleasure a shiver under your fingertips.

His cock was trapped between your bodies, leaking against his stomach, each thrust sending shivers of overstimulation through him until he was sobbing your name, lost in the haze of sensation.

“I—I can’t—too much—”

“You can,” you snarled, your breath hot against his lips.

“You’ll take every inch of me. You’ll remember this every time you close your eyes.”

He came first, a cry tearing from his throat as his body tensed and shuddered, hot ropes of cum painting his belly as you fucked him through it, your own climax building until your vision went white.

You buried yourself as deep as you could go, your release spilling inside him, filling him with a heat that left him gasping, trembling beneath you.

For a moment, the forest was silent but for your ragged breaths, the soft crackle of the dying fire, the slow, shuddering whimpers that slipped from his lips.

You stayed there, buried in him, your hand still pressed to his belly, feeling the slow, steady pulse of your cum inside him. And when you finally pulled back, you caught his face in your hands, your thumb brushing away the sweat and tears.

“Remember this, Tang Chen. Remember who you belong to.”

He nodded, his breath still ragged, his lips parting in a soft, breathless sigh.

“Yours… I’ll always be yours.”

And as the moon watched from above, the assassin and the legendary warrior lay tangled in the dirt and sweat, bound by blood and desire and the promise of the next dark, delicious game.

The forest night closed in around you, a cocoon of shadows and silver light that seemed to hold its breath as you pinned Tang Chen’s hips to the earth, his flushed, sweat-slick skin glowing in the flickering firelight.

Every inch of him was yours—his soft gasps, the tremor in his thighs as he tried to close them around your hips, the way his fingers dug into the dirt as if he could anchor himself in the spinning haze of sensation you had wrapped him in.

You hovered over him, your breath ragged, your cock still buried in the tight heat of his body. You could feel every flutter of his walls, every twitch and shudder that told you how close he was to shattering again.

His crimson eyes were half-lidded, lips parted around desperate little whimpers that made your own pulse thunder in your ears.

Your hand slid over the taut swell of his belly, pressing down just enough to feel the thick bulge of your cock moving inside him.

He sobbed at the touch, a broken, keening sound that had your own hips bucking forward, a deep, primal groan tearing from your throat.

“Look at you… so full. You can feel me in your guts, can’t you?”

His head lolled back against the earth, moonlight turning the tear-tracks on his cheeks to silver.

“Yes… gods… it’s too much—”

His words dissolved into a low moan as you ground deeper, the tip of your cock brushing that sweet, swollen spot inside him that made his toes curl and his whole body arch.

You leaned in, your mouth at his ear, your voice a dark, hungry purr.

“But you’re not done yet. I want to see you come again… to feel you clench around me so tight I can’t breathe.”

Your hand slid lower, fingers wrapping around the hard length of his cock, still leaking against his belly. He was so sensitive, every stroke making him gasp and buck beneath you, his thighs trembling, his whole body quivering like a bowstring drawn tight.

You started to move again, slow at first, rolling your hips in lazy, deliberate circles that had him choking on every breath.

Each thrust pushed that thick bulge higher under your palm, the drug’s heat making every slide of your cock a lightning strike that left him raw and desperate.

He tried to speak, but the words came out in a stuttering, breathless rush, his hands scrabbling for purchase as you fucked him harder, deeper, until he was babbling nonsense, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes.

“Please… please, it’s—gods, it’s too much—!”

“No,” you growled, your hand tightening around his cock, your other still pressing down on his belly to feel every inch of you moving inside him.

“You’re mine, Tang Chen. You’ll take everything I give you… every thrust, every drop.”

Your pace quickened, the slap of your hips echoing in the still night, the forest around you a silent, watchful witness to the debauchery you wrought.

His cries grew louder, the pitch of them raw and pleading as you forced him to the edge over and over, the drag of your cock inside him making him see stars.

You could feel the way he clenched around you, that tight heat milking you with every thrust, and it made your own head spin, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you fucked him harder, chasing that sweet, bone-deep pleasure.

“Cum for me again,” you snarled, your fingers working his cock with relentless, punishing strokes.

“I want to feel you break.”

And he did—his body locking up, back arching off the ground as he came with a strangled scream, hot, sticky release spilling over your hand, his cunt clenching so tight around you that your own orgasm tore through you like a storm.

You buried yourself to the hilt, the hot, pulsing pleasure making your vision go white as you filled him again, spilling so deep you could see the bulge of it in his belly, your cum leaking out around your cock to soak the dirt and leaves beneath him.

For a long moment, there was only the ragged sound of your breathing, the slow, shuddering gasps of Tang Chen as he lay limp and trembling under you, his body still twitching with the aftershocks of overstimulation.

You didn’t pull out—couldn’t, not yet. Instead, you leaned down, your lips brushing his ear, your voice a low, feral whisper.

“We’re not done, Tang Chen… I’m going to fuck you until the dawn breaks and the forest is filled with your cries. I want to see you come so many times you can’t even remember your own name.”

He whimpered at that, a soft, broken sound that had your cock twitching inside him, already hardening again at the thought of how much more he could take.

You rolled your hips, slow and deliberate, feeling the way he sobbed under you, his body so sensitive he flinched at every motion, every brush of your cock against that tender, swollen spot deep inside him.

Your hand slid down to his belly again, pressing harder this time, forcing him to feel the way your cock moved inside him, the thick, pulsing bulge that filled him so completely.

“You’re so tight around me… so fucking perfect.”

You bit down on his shoulder, your voice muffled against his skin as you rutted into him with slow, grinding thrusts that made him keen and sob.

“You were made for this… for me.”

And he was. Tang Chen, the living legend, the spirit master who had a strongest aura beyond a thousand men, reduced to nothing more than a shaking, pliant mess under you, his voice hoarse with pleading as you fucked him slow and deep, the moonlight turning his tears to silver.

You knew you could keep him here all night, that the drug’s fire would only make him more pliant, more desperate, every orgasm leaving him softer, needier, more yours.

You would push him to the edge again and again, until his voice was hoarse with your name and his body no longer remembered anything but the stretch of your cock and the press of your hands.

And as the forest watched, silent and eternal, you claimed him again and again, your name the only word he could remember, your body the only god he would ever worship.

I gone so deep and stuck into this donghua

˓  ㅤ 𔕛 KINKTOBER 2025 : Cockwarming

Paring : Qian Daoliu x Fem! Reader

Rating : nsfw

Words : 2K

C/W : pwp / age gab / orgasm control / barebreaking / semi-public sex / cockwarming / clothed sex / dirty talk / smut / kink

Version : eng

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

The chamber is drenched in shadows, the only light flickering from braziers set into the walls, their glow casting sinuous patterns on cold, polished stone. The scent of incense—rich, heady—coils around you, thick as honey.

You’re pinned to his lap, your thighs spread wide to straddle him on the throne of blackened marble, his cloaked discarded at his side. Every breath he takes is a command, every movement of his hips a silent threat.

Qian Daoliu’s golden eyes smolder as he looks down at you, his strong hand resting possessively on your waist, thumb brushing the rapid flutter of your pulse.

The head of his cock, thick and unyielding, nudges at your slick entrance—each shallow thrust a tease, a promise that has your body trembling, wanting.

"You’ll keep me warm like this," he says low, his voice honeyed iron.

"You’ll take every inch of me—every breath, every drop—and you will not come until I say so."

With a slow, deliberate push, he seats himself deep inside you, the stretch and burn sending sparks dancing up your spine.

You feel him fill you completely, so deep it’s almost too much, but you dare not move. He smirks, seeing the raw need in your eyes, his thumb sweeping up to brush your lips in a silent command to open.

"Good," he purrs. "Now… be still. Be mine. Let me feel that sweet, helpless heat wrap around me while you learn to be patient."

His hands tighten on your hips, holding you in place, impaling you on his cock like a trophy to be admired.

The only sound is the wet, aching throb of your own body, the slow grind of him shifting just enough to keep you on the edge—just enough to drive you mad.

“Please, Elder-” You begged and pleaded with impatience, your body trembling at the warmth that was so close to you.

His breaths were rapid and relentless, as if you were begging for mercy. His lips curl into a slow, knowing smile as he watches you squirm, every plea another delicious crack in your resolve.

He leans in closer, his breath hot against your ear, the scent of incense and sweat mingling in the thick air between you.

"Please…?" he echoes softly, amusement and hunger twisting in his voice.

"Do you think begging will make me merciful, little one? Do you think I haven’t heard a thousand desperate voices cry my name in this chamber?"

His hands tighten on your hips, pressing you down harder onto the thick heat of his cock, impaling you fully.

A low, rumbling growl escapes his throat, vibrating against your skin as he holds you there—taut, trembling, deliciously helpless.

"You’re mine now. Mine to warm… mine to keep."

" And you’ll take every inch of me, every moment, until I decide you’re worthy of release."

He leans back slightly, his molten-gold eyes drinking in the sight of you—lips parted, flushed and breathless, thighs quivering around him. His thumb brushes your bottom lip, a cruel softness in his touch that only makes the ache worse.

"Now… let me feel you, spirit master. Be still. Be perfect. And if you move before I command it—" his voice drops to a dangerous whisper, "—I’ll make sure you remember who you belong to."

He shifts his hips just slightly, enough to make you gasp, enough to keep you balanced on the edge of a moan. His smile widens, and he leans back on the throne, golden eyes gleaming with wicked delight.

“M-Move...please,” you groaned and gasped, your body jerking in confusion, your breaths faltering like a lamb in the hands of an old lion.

You looked at Qian Daoliu with pleading eyes, your sweet and tender flesh twitching violently around his thick cock as if begging and breaking the patience of the elder in front of you.

Tears fell out of your eyes in agony, you could feel the thick heat rising from your lower half, he was clearly using you and teasing you on purpose.

Qian Daoliu’s eyes glimmer with predatory triumph as he watches those tears slip down your flushed cheeks, every ragged breath and quivering plea fueling the slow burn of his dark delight.

"So fragile," he murmurs, voice thick with satisfaction. "So beautifully undone by the smallest taste of what I can give you."

His hand drifts from your waist to your throat, thumb stroking softly over your racing pulse, the faintest hint of pressure a reminder of his control.

His other hand slips between your trembling thighs, fingers ghosting over the swollen flesh that clenches and spasms around him, tracing every twitch and shiver like a predator savoring the final tremor of its prey.

"You beg so sweetly, little one," he purrs, his voice vibrating against your skin.

"But do you deserve it? Or should I keep you like this… trembling and stuffed full until you learn the meaning of patience?"

His hips roll slowly beneath you, a single, devastating thrust that spears you deeper onto him, so deep your vision blurs with white-hot need.

The wet sound of your bodies meeting fills the dark chamber, a decadent, filthy music that makes you whimper and claw at his robes.

He leans in close, lips brushing your ear, his breath ragged but controlled, the iron discipline of a man who could drag this out for hours if he wanted—

"I can feel you, darling," he growls, his voice low and rough as he grinds his hips up into you again.

"Feel how you’re milking me, begging me to fuck you…"

Another slow thrust, another inch that leaves you gasping, tears slipping faster now as the heat builds, unstoppable and aching.

"But you’ll take it at my pace, understand?" His hand tightens just enough at your throat to make you gasp, his eyes boring into yours with molten command.

"You’ll take every inch, every second—until I decide to let you fall apart."

Your lips part, trembling around a breathless moan as he keeps you there, stretched wide and trembling, that perfect cock buried so deep it feels like he’s claimed every inch of your soul.

Your hands clutch at his shoulders, nails digging in like a desperate anchor as you sob out a single, needy word—

"Please… please…"

Qian Daoliu’s smile widens, his thumb still stroking the frantic flutter of your pulse as his other hand drifts lower, cupping the wet, swollen heat between your thighs.

He rubs you there in slow, languid circles, each movement sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins until your hips buck against him in helpless defiance.

"Look at you," he murmurs, low and dangerous, "already so desperate… so eager to be filled and fucked until you can’t remember your own name."

With a sudden surge of movement, he shifts forward, his cock plunging even deeper as he lifts you effortlessly—using his strength to keep you impaled on him, your back arching in a shuddering cry of pleasure.

His mouth claims yours in a fierce, consuming kiss, teeth scraping your lower lip, tongue plunging deep as if to drink every last drop of your moans.

Then he breaks the kiss, pulling back just enough to watch your face as he begins to move—slow, punishing thrusts that grind against the tenderest parts of you, drawing out every gasp, every shiver, every tear.

His golden eyes never leave yours, watching the way your lips part in a breathless scream of want.

"Feel that?" he growls against your ear, his breath hot and ragged.

"Feel how you’re clenching around me, how your body can’t decide if it wants to run or beg for more?"

He pounds into you harder now, each thrust a deliberate claim, each slap of skin a promise that he will not let you go until he’s broken you completely.

His fingers find your swollen clit, pressing down in time with his thrusts, the wicked rhythm sending you spiraling closer and closer to that edge of sweet, shattering release.

"But not yet," he snarls, his voice a velvet snarl in the darkness. "Not until I say so. Hold it, darling. . .Hold it for me."

Your body convulses with the effort, tears streaming down your cheeks as you fight the wave of pleasure that threatens to drown you, every muscle straining to obey.

Qian Daoliu watches you, his lips curved in that cruel, knowing smile, his hands unyielding as he drives you higher and higher.

"Good girl," he murmurs, his pace relentless, his power absolute.

"Now… show me just how much you can take."

Your breath comes in ragged sobs, chest heaving as you cling to him, every thrust a clash of want and agony that tears a soft, desperate wail from your lips. Your thighs shake violently, your nails leave bright, angry crescents in his shoulders, but you’re too far gone to care.

Qian Daoliu’s golden eyes burn with unholy delight, watching you unravel around him like a fragile bloom caught in a storm. His lips curl in a predatory smile, and he lowers his head to brush his mouth along the curve of your throat, his tongue tracing the pulse that hammers wildly beneath your skin.

"That’s it," he murmurs, the words a silken command that coils tight around your spine. "Let me feel how badly you need this. How much you’re willing to give me."

His fingers never stop, circling your clit in slow, torturous patterns that have you gasping, your hips jerking helplessly despite the steel grip he keeps on you.

Each thrust of his cock is a brutal, measured claim, grinding deep until you see stars, until your entire world narrows to the molten heat inside you and the rough, delicious drag of him stretching you open again and again.

"Look at you," he purrs, his voice low and dark.

"Fucking yourself on me like a sweet, desperate little whore. So eager. So wet. Tell me—" he nips at your throat, biting down just enough to make you whimper— "—does it hurt? Does it feel so good it drives you mad?"

He slows his thrusts for a moment, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back into you, the sudden, brutal stretch pulling a hoarse, broken moan from your lips.

He does it again, and again, each time the shock of it sending shivers down your spine, your vision swimming with tears and white-hot pleasure.

"You’re mine now," he growls against your skin, his breath hot and ragged. "Every part of you. Every breath, every tear… it all belongs to me."

Your head falls back, lips parted in a silent scream as he pounds into you harder, faster, the wet slap of your bodies echoing in the chamber.

Your muscles clench down around him, slick and tight, and he groans low in his throat, the sound of it vibrating through your bones.

"Hold it," he orders, his hand tightening at your throat just enough to make your vision swim with stars.

"Don’t you dare come. Not yet."

Your body bucks, hips grinding down against him in frantic, helpless need, every inch of you on fire as he uses you, teases you, holds you right on the edge of that sweet, shattering release.

Your tears fall faster, your breath coming in gasps and sobs as you fight to obey, to hold back the wave that threatens to drown you.

Qian Daoliu’s smile is wicked, his golden eyes blazing as he watches you break apart in his hands, every trembling breath a testament to his power.

His lips brush yours, soft and teasing, before he growls—

"Good girl. So close. Now… beg me one more time. Show me how much you need it."

˓  ㅤ 𔕛 KINKTOBER 2025 : Fingering

Paring : Chenxin x Fem! Reader

Rating : nsfw

Words : 2.2K

C/W : pwp / age gab / fingering / cunnilingus / glory hole / massage / clothed sex / dirty talk / smut / kink / squirting / romantic sex.

Version : eng

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

The bedroom glows in the soft, warm light of countless candles, their flickering flames dancing shadows across the velvet drapes and polished wooden floors.

The faint scent of jasmine lingers in the air—intoxicating, sweet, and heady. You lie back on a bed of crimson silk, your body already thrumming with anticipation.

Chenxin stands at the foot of the bed, his long silver hair loose around his shoulders, the moonlight outside catching in the shimmering strands.

His eyes, those sharp, merciless eyes, are fixed on you with a mixture of tenderness and raw hunger.

“Tonight, my beloved, I will make you feel things you’ve only ever dreamed of,” he murmurs, his voice a husky promise.

“I want to see you lose yourself for me… again and again.”

He climbs onto the bed, his strong hands bracing himself on either side of you as he leans in to capture your lips in a kiss—soft at first, tender, then deepening, his tongue teasing the seam of your mouth until you open for him. His taste is a heady mix of want and possession.

One of his hands slides down your body, fingertips tracing the curve of your hip, and then lower still—his touch firm yet achingly gentle.

He parts your thighs with deliberate care, his fingers gliding over your folds, slick and needy under his touch.

“So wet for me already,” he murmurs against your lips, his breath hot and teasing.

“You’re so perfect… I want to feel every trembling inch of you.”

He lowers his mouth to your throat, lips tracing a path of open-mouthed kisses down to your chest.

His fingers find your entrance, slipping inside with exquisite slowness—one finger first, then two, stretching you open as you moan his name, hips arching to meet his touch.

The steady rhythm of his fingers is maddening—deep and slow, then quick and relentless, always dancing just on the edge of overwhelming pleasure.

He hooks them slightly, grazing that sensitive spot inside you that has you gasping, your thighs trembling around his wrist.

“That’s it… give in to me,” he growls softly, his voice low and sinful.

“Let me feel you… let me hear you.”

And then he moves lower, his mouth trailing heat down your belly, his tongue finally finding your clit in slow, teasing strokes. He laps at you with a deliberate, devastating rhythm, his fingers never pausing, never faltering.

The pleasure builds fast and hot, your breath coming in ragged gasps as he works you closer to the edge. You can feel it—pressure building, white-hot and unstoppable—and Chenxin knows it too, his lips curving into a wicked smirk as he sucks your clit harder, fingers plunging deeper.

“Come for me, beloved,” he whispers, his words a filthy, delicious command.

“I want to taste every drop of you… I want to feel you pulse around my fingers.”

The climax hits you like lightning—your whole body shuddering, hips bucking, a sharp cry torn from your throat. You squirt around his fingers, hot and wet, and Chenxin groans low in his chest, lapping up every drop, drinking in your pleasure with greedy devotion.

He doesn’t stop. He eases you back down, then begins again, slower this time, fingers gliding over your slick folds as he massages your inner thighs, his mouth tracing soft, reverent kisses across your stomach.

“You’re so beautiful when you come undone,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet against your skin.

“But I’m not finished, not yet…”

He slides up your body, his mouth finding yours in a kiss that’s both sweet and dirty, his fingers still teasing you as his hard length presses against your thigh.

“I’m going to fill you now, beloved,” he growls, the tip of his cock slipping through your soaked folds.

“And I’m going to make you scream my name… over and over.”

He thrusts into you in one slow, deep stroke, filling you completely, and you arch up to meet him, your bodies moving together in a dance of passion and possession.

His thrusts are unhurried at first—long, measured, every inch of him a promise of devotion—before quickening, hips snapping against yours with a raw need.

His hand slips between your bodies, fingers circling your clit again as he pounds into you harder, faster, his breath ragged and his words hot against your ear.

“You’re mine,” he growls, his voice breaking into a groan.

“Say it… scream it… let everyone know you’re mine.”

Your moans and cries fill the room, mixing with the slap of skin on skin and the slick sounds of your wetness. He keeps you on the edge, tipping you over again and again, until you’re spent and breathless, your body a boneless mess in his arms.

He gathers you close, lips brushing sweat-slicked skin as he murmurs softly—promises of love and endless nights of passion. And even as the candles burn low, you know this is only the beginning.

Chenxin doesn’t stop, not even when you’re shaking in his arms, your skin flushed and dewed with sweat. His hands are firm on your hips, fingers digging in with a possessive grip that grounds you even as your mind drifts in a haze of pleasure.

He slows for a moment, pulling back to look down at you with those intense silver eyes. There’s a softness there—just for you—beneath the commanding heat.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that sends a fresh wave of heat pulsing through your core.

“So beautiful… my wife, my everything.”

He leans down to kiss you, slow and deep, his tongue teasing yours, his hand slipping between your thighs again, seeking the swollen bundle of nerves that’s already so tender.

You whimper into his mouth, hips bucking, and he swallows the sound like a man starving.

“I want to see you fall apart again… show me, beloved,” he growls, his thumb rubbing tight circles against your clit as his cock thrusts into you again, harder this time—each stroke dragging a sharp gasp from your lips.

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back as he drives into you with punishing precision.

The wet sounds of your joined bodies echo in the candlelit room, each slap of skin sending another jolt of need to your core.

He’s relentless, and the edge builds quick and sharp, your breath catching in your throat as you feel it coiling tight in your belly.

“Let go for me,” he snarls, his voice like rough silk, the heat of his breath ghosting across your lips.

“I want to feel you clench around me… let me see how much you can take.”

You cry out, a broken sob of his name as your body spasms around him, the climax tearing through you so hard you see stars.

You squirt again, the hot rush of it soaking his cock, his hips never faltering as he rides you through it, every thrust pushing you deeper into a bliss so intense it borders on pain.

Chenxin groans, a dark sound that vibrates against your throat as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his own release building fast. His thrusts grow ragged, desperate, and you feel the shiver that runs through him as he finally lets go.

“Take it… every drop,” he growls, his teeth grazing your skin as he pushes deep and stills, his cock pulsing as he spills inside you.

The heat of him fills you completely, and you cling to him, your bodies trembling together in the aftermath.

For a moment, the world narrows to just the sound of your breath, the pounding of your hearts. Chenxin’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly across your lips.

“You’re mine, beloved,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Always.”

But even as the haze of passion begins to ebb, there’s a glint in his eyes—a promise of more. He’s not done. Not yet.

“Rest for now,” he murmurs, lips curling into a wicked smile.

“Because when you’re ready… I’ll take you again. And again. Until you can’t think of anything but me.”

He eases back, his fingers brushing lightly over your sensitive core, smearing the mix of your juices and his seed as he toys with you, drawing out little whimpers of oversensitive pleasure.

The candles flicker, the room still humming with the echoes of your cries, and in Chenxin’s arms, you know the night is far from over.

The flickering candlelight seems to blur the edges of the room, everything soft and hazy in the afterglow of your pleasure. Your breath still comes in short, ragged gasps as Chenxin eases back, his fingers still resting at the juncture of your thighs, tracing idle patterns that make you shiver despite the heat.

“Chenxin… I… I can’t… you’re driving me mad…” you pant, your voice trembling, but there’s a hungry light in your eyes that betrays how much you crave his touch.

He smirks at that, his silver eyes glinting with satisfaction as he lowers himself back down to hover over you, one hand slipping beneath your thigh to prop it up higher, opening you to him again.

“Can’t? My love… you know I never believe that word from your lips.”

His voice is a silken promise, and his thumb grazes your clit in a slow, teasing circle that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Please… please, Chenxin… it’s too much… I can’t—”

Your protest ends in a sharp cry as he dips his head to claim your mouth in a bruising kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a dance of dominance. He pulls back just enough to murmur against your lips.

“You’ll take it, beloved… all of it. Because you’re mine, and I know how to make you beg for more.”

He slides his fingers back inside you, slow at first, curling them just right to make your hips buck against his hand. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you moan, the sound muffled by his mouth.

Every thrust of his fingers is matched by the deliberate grind of his palm against your clit, each movement coaxing a fresh wave of heat in your belly.

“Chenxin… gods… please—” you whimper, the edge of pleasure twisting so tight you feel like you’ll shatter.

He leans in, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks, each word dark and honeyed.

“Tell me what you want, little wife… tell me how badly you need me.”

“I need you… inside me, now,” you gasp, your body arching into him, the slick, wet sounds of his fingers moving in and out of you only fueling your desperation.

“Please, Chenxin… I need you to fuck me.”

He growls low in his throat, his mouth finding your pulse point and biting down just hard enough to make you gasp.

“Such a sweet mouth… begging so prettily…” He withdraws his fingers and lifts them to his mouth, tasting you with a groan.

“Delicious. But I want more.”

He shifts his weight, his hard length pressing against your entrance, the tip nudging at your slick folds. He doesn’t push in yet—no, he teases, circling your clit with the head of his cock, making you writhe beneath him.

“Please, Chenxin… don’t tease… I need you, need you to fill me,” you moan, your voice high and desperate, your hands clutching at his arms.

“Then take me,” he commands, his tone like a blade. “Show me how much you want me.”

With that, he thrusts forward, slow and deliberate, filling you inch by inch until he’s seated fully within you, the stretch making you gasp, your head spinning with the sudden, exquisite fullness.

He groans as he bottoms out, his hands gripping your hips as he pulls back just to slam into you again, harder, deeper, each thrust a claim that leaves you gasping his name.

“Chenxin… oh gods… yes…” you cry out, your voice breaking with every thrust, your hands clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

He fucks you slow and hard, his eyes locked to yours, each movement deliberate and possessive. One hand slides up to your throat, his thumb brushing your jaw as he leans in close, his breath hot against your lips.

“You’re mine, wife,” he growls, his thrusts quickening, driving deeper.

“Say it. Scream it for me.”

“I’m yours,” you sob, pleasure cresting again, your legs trembling around his waist. “I’m yours, Chenxin… always yours.”

The words spur him on, his pace becoming frantic as he pounds into you, the bed shaking with every thrust.

Your cries echo in the room, mingling with the slap of skin on skin, the wet, obscene sounds of your bodies colliding.

And when you come again—hard and fast, squirting around his cock with a cry that tears from your throat—he groans your name like a prayer, his own release following in hot, pulsing waves as he spills inside you, filling you completely.

He stays there, buried in you, his forehead pressed to yours, your breaths mingling in the heated air as the world narrows to the press of his body against yours, the echo of your moans still ringing in the candlelit bedroom.

“Rest now, my love,” he murmurs, a rare softness in his voice as he brushes sweat-damp hair from your face.

“Tomorrow… tomorrow, we begin again.”

⤷ 　　 ﹒ 　　 ♡⠀⠀BO SAIDONG X READER 　

Rating : PG

Words : 1K

warnning : no

version : eng / th

Synopsis : A humble spirit master's prayers on Sea God Island reach the heart of the mighty Poseidon, awakening emotions long buried. Drawn to their pure devotion, he defies divine laws to reveal himself, risking the wrath of the gods for a love that defies fate itself.

Waves crashed against the rocky cliffs, their thunderous roar echoing across the vast bay. The ivory sands of Sea God Island shimmered under the moonlight, each grain catching the pale glow of the distant celestial sphere.

The ocean’s surface rippled gently, reflecting starlight like scattered gemstones against a darkened canvas, while the night sky stretched endlessly above, painted with countless stars.

The salty scent of the sea mingled with the earthy fragrance of coastal blooms, their petals unfurling in the cool, whispering breeze. It felt as though the entire island pulsed with an ancient, mysterious energy, as if the sea itself was alive — murmuring secrets known only to its eternal guardian.

You paused before the great stone throne, a towering structure carved with swirling wave patterns, each crest and trough an unending testament to the mysteries of the ocean.

At its peak sat the statue of the mighty Sea God, Poseidon, his powerful hands grasping a golden trident, his stone-carved eyes gazing down with an ageless calm, a silent observer over all who entered this sacred domain.

Despite the serenity, the air around the throne thrummed with the latent power of the deity it represented, a reminder of the awe-inspiring force that governed these waters.

Slowly, you knelt before the altar, heart pounding with a mixture of reverence and devotion.

“Great Sea God... please hear my prayer. Protect those I hold dear from harm and guide them safely through the tides of fate.”

Your voice, though quiet, carried a deep sincerity, each word flowing from your heart as your hands clasped together against your chest.

The cool sea breeze brushed against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as though the ocean itself whispered back in response, the crashing waves echoing the rhythm of your own heartbeat.

Yet, what you could not know was that each of your heartfelt prayers, whispered into the night, did not simply vanish into the wind or dissolve into the rolling tides.

No — they reached far beyond the physical realm, touching the very heart of the Sea God himself, high within the divine plane.

Poseidon’s eyes slowly opened upon his golden throne in the realm of the gods.

His deep sea-green gaze, sharp and penetrating, looked out over the cloud-streaked sky, yet his thoughts were far from this tranquil scene. Instead, they lingered on the image of you, kneeling humbly before his altar, your voice — filled with faith and unwavering loyalty — resonating within his immortal heart.

For millennia, countless oceanic spirit masters had offered their prayers to him, but none had ever stirred his ancient soul quite like you.

“Again...” he whispered to himself, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. Despite the centuries that separated him from the mortal world.

He found himself anticipating your every visit to his sacred island — counting each step you took within his temple, each whisper of devotion that reached his ears like a gentle tide caressing the shore.

Months passed, and you continued to visit Sea God Island without fail. This time, you brought a single light blue flower — a Tweedia — its delicate, five-petaled bloom as soft as the seafoam that crowned the waves.

You laid the flower carefully at the base of the altar, a gentle smile gracing your lips as you whispered,

“Great Sea God, I have heard of your boundless mercy and unmatched strength... I only wish that one day, I might see you with my own eyes.”

Suddenly, the waters beneath the temple stirred, the ocean itself seeming to respond to your plea. Waves twisted and rose, the sea churning as if reflecting the tumult within its master’s heart.

Then, in a burst of frothing, swirling seawater, a tall, imposing figure emerged from the depths, each step he took sending ripples across the water that trembled beneath his power.

His long, dark teal hair flowed like ocean currents behind him, and his deep, sea-green eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that sent a shock through your very core.

He stepped onto the stone steps leading to his throne, the power of the sea radiating from his every movement, a living embodiment of the ocean’s majesty.

Your eyes widened in shock, your legs nearly giving way beneath you as a sudden, crushing pressure filled the air, like the depths of the sea pressing down upon your mortal frame.

Your heart raced wildly, its frantic beats threatening to burst from your chest.

“A-Are you... the Sea God?” you stammered, barely able to force the words past your trembling lips.

Poseidon gazed down at you, a faint smile curving his lips. “Yes... I am the Sea God. And you, human, are the first mortal to move my heart enough for me to choose to reveal myself.”

You found yourself frozen in place, unable to breathe, your pulse thundering in your ears. His deep, all-seeing eyes regarded you with an intensity that felt like the ocean’s unfathomable depths, drawing you in, threatening to drown you in his gaze.

“Why do you come to my temple again and again?” he asked, his voice as steady and powerful as the tide, yet tinged with a warmth you had never imagined.

“I-I only seek to honor you... to ask for your blessing and the safety of those I cherish,” you replied, your voice trembling, your every nerve alive with the overwhelming pressure of his divine presence.

He smiled then, the slight curve of his lips carrying a hint of satisfaction. “Humans... always driven by such simple desires.”

You felt your cheeks heat, and you averted your eyes, unable to bear the weight of his gaze. Yet even as the ocean’s roar began to fade, the wild turmoil in your heart only grew, a tempest of emotions you could neither name nor control.

Back in the grand halls of the divine realm, Poseidon returned to his throne, seawater still dripping from his long, teal hair. The faint scent of salt clung to him, the cool mist lingering in the air around his imposing figure.

Footsteps echoed through the hall, firm and unyielding. The powerful presence of Shura, the stern god of judgment and war, filled the space. His crimson eyes locked onto Poseidon with a hint of reproach.

“Poseidon,” he intoned, his voice cold as a blade. “You dare break the laws of the divine realm by reaching out to a mere mortal?”

Poseidon merely smiled, his sea-green gaze calm yet piercing. “I simply extended my divine consciousness, Shura. I did not interfere with the mortal’s fate, nor did I alter the course of their destiny. Unless you have proof that I have done otherwise, I see no fault in my actions.”

Shura’s jaw tightened, but no retort came. The divine judge met Poseidon’s calm, unyielding stare for a moment longer before turning sharply, his dark cloak swirling around him as he vanished into the mist of the divine halls.

“Foolish as ever,” Poseidon whispered to himself, the faintest hint of a chuckle escaping his lips.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✧⠀KINKTOBER 2025

⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY ONE : QIAN DAOLIU

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY TWO : LONG XIAOYAO

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY THREE : CHENXIN

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY FOUR : OUYA / SEAHORSE DOULUO

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY FIVE : TANG CHEN

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY SIX : BO SAIXI

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY SEVEN : SEA SPEAR DOULUO / HAIMAO

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY EIGHT :

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY NINE :

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY TEN :

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY ELEVEN :

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY TWELVE :

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY THIRTEEN :

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY FOURTEEN :

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY FIFTEEN :

⠀⠀⠀⠀࿈ : DAY SIXTEEN :

⠀⠀⠀⠀

Rating : PG

Words : 3.9K

Warning : No

Version : eng / th

Synopsis : You are just a lonely person who decided to try something strange by writing a letter, tying it to the leg of a bird that visits your window every day, and then letting the bird fly away. You didn't expect anyone in the land of Douluo to actually receive that letter and respond to you.

⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠPART 1 : ENG / TH

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

⤷ 　　 ﹒ 　　 ♡⠀⠀SEASTAR DOULUO / HAIXING

Seastar Douluo sat atop his spirit beast, drifting in and out of awareness like a tide refusing the shore. The cries of the seagulls danced through the air, and now and then something light as a feather brushed against his companion’s skin—but none of it ever managed to pull him from the focused flow of his spiritual energy.

Eventually, the spirit beast, whose octopus-like tentacle seemed hilariously mismatched to the rest of its form, gently prodded its master. There was someone staring—a plump little bird with round eyes full of unabashed curiosity.

Hm…?

He arched an eyebrow, his expression as unreadable as ever, and held out his hand. The bird fluttered up to perch on his palm, allowing Seastar Douluo to study it with practiced scrutiny.

He barely blinked before shifting his gaze elsewhere. Curiosity, to him, was like a cat chasing yarn—but Seastar Douluo saw it as no more than a rolled-up piece of paper.

Whatever people want to send me... it's none of my business.

With that thought, he simply let the bird go and returned to his meditation, as if the encounter had never happened. If that bird could speak, it would have likely cursed him three times over out of sheer frustration.

The spirit beast, perhaps out of sympathy, seemed to comfort the poor flustered thing in its own way.

Eventually, the tiny beak of the bird delivered a playful nip to the old war sage's shoulder—enough to mildly irritate him and break his focus. He opened his eyes with a sigh, wearing a look that said,

Really? Again?

With great reluctance, he untucked a rolled-up note from the bird’s side, scanned it quickly, his brow lifting with every other line. Then, without a word, he rolled it back up and tucked it away, unwilling to humor whoever-it-was from wherever-they-came with an ounce of courtesy.

Seastar Douluo was a man of quiet discipline. Though age had granted him some leniency, he’d never shaken off his natural reserve. He wasn’t like the Seahorse Sage or the Ocean Maiden—warm, welcoming, and full of pleasantries. Nor was he like the silent, enigmatic Sea Spirit.

He had his own circle, and every friend in it was a matter of quality, not quantity. With great responsibility resting on his shoulders, he didn’t feel the need to plaster a smile and greet strangers like it was New Year’s Eve. He held a certain pride—a quiet one, but there all the same.

So if you wanted to catch his attention, you'd need to show skill—and by that, he meant spiritual mastery, not brute strength. He wasn't like the Ocean Spear or the Sea Dragon, who thrived on conflict. No, his stubborn silence and dry sarcasm had more in common with the Sea Fantasy.

Still, the same little bird kept returning, letter in tow, always on time, never late. Almost like you’d realized you were now engaged in a one-sided penpal rivalry with the most emotionally unavailable ancient spirit in existence.

The pile of scrolls in front of Seastar Douluo slowly grew, day by day.

Fine. If you’re this persistent, I’d be a coward not to accept.

What started as a simple way to pass time—sending letters to ease your loneliness—turned into a quiet battle of wills. You were writing to someone elusive, someone who made your brain short-circuit with every unacknowledged reply.

Eventually, you stopped. Not a word. Not a scroll. Not a bird.

Seastar Douluo went on as usual, but something in the silence rubbed at him. The spiritual adept known as Y/N (yes, you) had stopped pestering him. And over time, as he sat alone with his spirit beast at the sacred pillar, he found himself sighing. Wondering where you’d gone. Wondering why the bird came back with nothing.

Finally, he stood, caught the bird mid-flight, and tied a note to its leg with practiced ease.

“Oh… so you’ve given up on me, have you?”

It worked a little too well.

Within three days, you sent him a letter so filled with complaints, rants, and indignant noise that it practically screamed from the parchment. He couldn’t help the slight smirk curling at the corner of his lips. Victory. Satisfaction. A return to routine.

Except… now, things were a little different.

Seastar Douluo began replying.

Not always. Not predictably. But sometimes. And sometimes was enough.

And when your letters shifted from idle chatter to real problems—real worries—he responded as an elder might: not with pretty words, but with clarity, guidance, and unexpectedly sharp insight.

His advice was never sugar-coated, but it grounded you more than you ever expected it to.

⤷ 　　 ﹒ 　　 ♡⠀⠀SEAWOMAN DOULUO / HAIMONU

Seawoman Douluo swam gracefully around her sacred pillar. It seemed that none of the other sacred pillars were free to play with her, as they were all tied to their own cities, doing their duties. She, on the other hand, was simply feeling a bit lonely.

But at that moment, something caught her eye—a little bird, gently fluttering down to land in front of her sacred pillar.

And yes, the curiosity of a woman is much like that of a cat. She pounced on the little bird with gleaming eyes, drawn to its fluffy feathers, which made it even puffier than before.

She discreetly took the letter tied to the bird’s leg and examined it, her tail fin flicking in excitement. She unraveled the note and read it with the enthusiasm of a child.

Oh, Y/N, you’re so interesting! She giggled softly when she saw the contents of the letter.

Seawoman Douluo smiled with excitement. Bored as she was, having received a letter from a complete stranger was something fresh. While it didn’t seem harmful, she still had to be cautious for the safety of the Sea God's Island.

So, she decided to reply. But she chose her words carefully, keeping them simple, without revealing anything too personal about herself.

Of course, once she decided to engage in conversation, Seawoman Douluo took on the persona of a playful young girl, chatting with you as if you were old friends. She teased and shared little stories about the ocean from time to time, enjoying the interactions.

Sometimes, Seawoman Douluo would gather seashells and pearls, fashioning them into necklaces or other jewelry, which she would then send to you, along with a letter addressed to Y/N.

She often expressed her playful nature through her words when speaking to someone she felt a connection with. And, if you ever asked, she would offer you advice on meditating or playing music, eager to help a friend in need.

She would never leave a new friend like you without support, that much was certain. Seawoman Douluo was open and friendly, but she always kept the conversation under her control to avoid discussing the Sea God’s Island until she was sure you were worthy of her trust. Only then would she feel comfortable enough to share stories of the island with you.

You and Seawoman Douluo would exchange gifts through a messenger bird, who worked tirelessly every day.

If you were a woman, jewelry was guaranteed. If you were a man, it might be a beautiful polished stone or even small fish from the sea that she would send your way.

If you went silent for more than three days, she would sit quietly, wondering if she had done something to upset you. Her tail fin would slowly swish back and forth, like a little puppy abandoned, while her bubbles floated aimlessly through the air.

And when Seawoman Douluo could no longer wait, she would send you dozens of letters, pestering you with playful complaints.

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N… You’re not thinking about me anymore, are you? Hmph!”

Before long, you’d find yourself sending a heap of gifts to appease this sulking mermaid, who had every right to be upset with you for not replying sooner! Though she was sulking, Seawoman Douluo would still read and respond to your letters with her usual kindness.

To make things right, all you had to do was send her a little note of praise, mentioning the music she played or gifting her something—a flower, a piece of jewelry, or even a rare musical note from the island.

Just like that, her sulking would vanish, and she would eagerly wave her tail fin, ready to talk with you as if nothing had ever happened.

⤷ 　　 ﹒ 　　 ♡⠀⠀SEADRAGON DOULUO / HAILONG

The first question that might come to anyone's mind is—are there any creatures brave enough to hover near the sacred pillar of Seadragon Douluo? The answer is, no!

The area around his sacred pillar is thick with the scent of power and intimidation, making it incredibly difficult for any animal to even come close. This makes it highly unlikely that Seadragon Douluo would ever receive a letter from someone like you, or anyone who dares to send one.

Even some soul beasts avoid this area, as the miasma of Seadragon Douluo's presence is overwhelming. He lives with the constant reminder that no one should disturb his domain.

But somehow, a certain odd bird—a round, chubby little creature—manages to fly right into his territory. What gives?

Seadragon Douluo watches this creature, bemused. This little bird, not known for its intelligence, has managed to wander into his domain, something even the local wildlife wouldn't dare do.

How on earth did it manage to get here?

The bird, with a note tied to its leg, flaps around clumsily, catching Seadragon Douluo's attention. He thought for a moment, wondering how the bird was allowed to wander in. If it weren't for the letter, he would have simply ignored the bird. He knew his territory well, and nothing should have ventured here.

As he opened the letter, Seadragon Douluo raised an eyebrow. It was a message from someone named Y/N, someone he didn't recognize. He thought little of it at first—after all, who in their right mind would send a letter to him? With a shake of his head, he tossed the scroll aside, dismissing it as nonsense.

However, to his surprise, the chubby bird kept coming back, day after day, bringing him new letters. Seadragon Douluo couldn't help but wonder—was this Y/N genuinely trying to make contact with him? Despite his initial reluctance, the bird kept bringing letters, each more persistent than the last.

Although Seadragon Douluo didn't particularly enjoy idle chit-chat or small talk, and found no real reason to engage in such trivial matters, he still read the letters every time they came. He wasn't rude, just indifferent.

However, as time went on, he felt an odd pull—maybe it was the will of the Sea God, nudging him to make a connection with someone outside his isolated world.

Despite being someone who didn’t find much joy in conversation, Seadragon Douluo eventually started to feel a sense of duty. If Y/N was determined enough to send letters every day, perhaps it was time for him to respond, even if he wasn't sure what to say.

His responses were short at first, offering advice on physical training and combat techniques. Seadragon Douluo, with his rigorous training and tough methods, gave advice that was often harsh but effective.

He believed that strength was the most important thing in the world, and he wanted to make sure that whoever Y/N was, they were strong enough to face what was coming.

Sometimes, when he didn’t know what to send back, he would consult with the Sea Spirits or other wise figures on the island to ensure that what he gave would not harm Y/N. He was cautious, even though his usual demeanor was one of strict discipline and strength.

Despite his initial resistance to talking with others, he began to feel a kind of strange attachment. Every time a letter from Y/N arrived, Seadragon Douluo would read it with a quiet sigh.

Although he would never admit it openly, he was slowly starting to care—just a little.

But if Y/N's letters were delayed, Seadragon Douluo's temper would flare. If he had to wait too long for a reply, he would grow irritated, and would send a short, curt note back with a sharp message.

“Where is my letter? Did you forget how to write?”

Once a response from Y/N finally arrived, Seadragon Douluo would relax and sigh in relief, though he wouldn't show much emotion outwardly.

He might even give more advice on training, offering specific techniques that would help Y/N level up faster. His methods might be a bit grueling, but that was just how he was—he wanted Y/N to become as strong as possible, even if it meant pushing them to their limits.

At times, he wasn't sure what to send as a gift. In these moments, he would ask the Sea Spirits if certain items were safe to give—like sea flowers, or other gifts from the sea. It was all a learning process for him, a part of opening up to someone for the first time in ages.

Over time, Seadragon Douluo began to care more about his new acquaintance. He wasn't one for conversations or friendships, but this slow and steady connection was something he hadn't expected.

While he still had a lot of questions about the person behind the letters, he found himself responding more often—and with more sincerity. His heart had slowly begun to warm, even if just a little.

And when the letters stopped coming for too long, he would grow restless, and you would find that Seadragon Douluo's aura would become thick with impatience.

After all, when you’re waiting for something, sometimes the waiting can feel like the hardest part.

⤷ 　　 ﹒ 　　 ♡⠀⠀BO SAIXI

Bo Saixi sat quietly, gazing at the tranquil landscape in front of her with a serene and calm expression. Her silver hair fluttered in the breeze, and her beauty was undeniable.

The two pinnacle-level Title Douluo who had once visited the Sea God's Island were both struck speechless by her beauty, each developing a sense of admiration and affection for her. Combined with the atmosphere of composure and tranquility she exuded, her unique elegance became even more apparent.

It seemed that there was a certain bird, one that you had just let fly out of its home a few days ago, that was staring intently at the face of the high priestess. It flew so carelessly that it fell to the ground, much to its misfortune.

Thankfully, Bo Saixi, with her compassionate heart, used her spiritual energy to form a mass of water and softly cushion the bird's fall.

She observed the small object that was tied to the bird’s leg, deep in thought. In the end, her innate curiosity, a quality that never fully left her despite the years, got the better of her. Even though she had passed through many seasons, she was still very much human.

When the letter became visible before her eyes, her beautiful pink eyes followed each word slowly. After reading the contents, she fell into a deep silence.

Bo Saixi did not immediately decide to reply. Instead, she placed the letter on the table in her room and stared at it for several days. Then, one day, she sat down and gently unrolled a piece of paper. With her graceful, slender fingers, she began to write a short response in silver ink.

She did not intend to tell this stranger about her own life, or anyone else’s. If you were sending a letter out of loneliness, just to let it float in the sea or ride the wind, then Bo Saixi would be the one receiving it by chance, like a shore receiving an errant wave.

As many elders often did, Bo Saixi chose silence in response to this event. She would not speak of it to anyone or tell anyone when or why she had received a letter. Perhaps it was the silence of hundreds of years spent waiting for a lost love, separated from the outside world by these waters, that made her choose to reply with a brief line:

"Nice to meet you."

She then placed the letter in a small box or bottle and left it beside the statue of the Sea God, waiting for the little bird to take it back. Of course, she discreetly used a little bit of her spiritual energy to ensure the bird’s journey would go smoothly.

As the days passed and you continued to send letters to her, sharing stories, Bo Saixi read every one of them. She did not smile or laugh much at the letters, but within her, her heart began to settle more than ever before. It was as if she could calm the burning impatience of waiting, finding peace in the words you sent.

Bo Saixi began to respond to you more regularly, and in her eyes, you were no longer just a stranger. You became like a friend from a different time, like a little child who reflected something Bo Saixi had forgotten over the years.

You would often draw pictures of the sea for her, though you would sometimes say that you had never seen it yourself. Bo Saixi would happily return the gesture by describing the beauty of the vast ocean in short, vivid words, or by gifting you something.

She was more than willing to give you advice when you faced difficulties. Of course, these were all lessons born from her own experiences. But please, don’t ask about love—she could not offer any good advice in that regard.

If you went silent for a long time, Bo Saixi would stand and stare out at the sky, as though searching for the distant lands beyond. It wasn’t a waiting for Tang Chen, but an expectation that some little bird would return, bringing with it a letter tied to its leg.

She would tell herself that you must be busy with urgent matters, but the silence without explanation brought an unspoken sense of worry that had no name.

On a rainy night, Bo Saixi would sometimes pick up your letter, holding it close to her chest, whispering words she had never spoken to anyone before.

“Please don’t disappear like this…”

If you returned with a long-winded apology, Bo Saixi wouldn’t ask where you had been or blame you. She would share her own stories of the time you had been gone.

And if you asked her if she was angry with you, Bo Saixi would tell you that someone who had crossed such a lonely sea to talk to her could never be someone she would grow angry with, even if it meant waiting for years.

(+) Bonus:

⤷ 　　 ﹒ 　　 ♡⠀⠀BO SAIDONG / POSEIDON

One day, amid the tranquility and the peacefulness of the Sea God's Island under his watchful eyes, something strange occurred, which changed the once effortless passage of time.

The spirit of the Sea God, guardian of the island, gazed at the calm waves that stretched endlessly before him. This vast sea, far beyond the horizon, usually offered no response, even though he was the one who listened to the countless prayers of his devoted followers.

Yet, it was rare for those voices to reach him with pure and sincere intentions.

Before he could lose himself in these thoughts, the calm waves brought a small, intelligent, and obedient bird to the island. It carried with it a rolled-up letter, flying swiftly and landing in the sacred temple above the deep sea.

Bo Saidong, however, did not open the letter immediately. Normally, such things didn’t happen often in his thousands of years of existence (or rather, never had happened at all). But now, a letter that you had casually written in the midst of training had fallen into the hands of the god who ruled over the vast oceans.

The ethereal Sea God spirit observed the rolled-up paper before his high priestess, Bo Saixi, tossed it away. But after thousands of years in detachment, the god picked it up and decided to read it. The letter carried no menacing energy and seemed to be nothing more than a simple piece of parchment with no cause for concern.

Bo Saidong read through every line of it until the end, his face betraying a mixture of confusion and surprise. The letter from you was not a plea for blessings or a prayer for success—it was simply a report on your life, a complaint about how boring everything had become.

The silence around him deepened as the bird flew away to some unknown place, having fulfilled its task.

In all the thousands of years since he had become a god, Bo Saidong had not held a sheet of paper like this. He had never been the recipient of letters. No one had thought to write to him in all that time, until now—you were the first and only one.

Realizing this, a smile spread across his face—not a smile filled with power or the calm wisdom of the great god of the sea, but the smile of someone who understands the taste of loneliness and solitude.

Bo Saidong did not intend to respond to the letter. He did not even consider contacting you, the writer, nor did he think of crafting a response or writing anything at all.

But the next day, the people of the Sea God's Island felt something unusual—a strange energy that spread across the waters, reaching the very shores where you resided.

The once-turbulent waves grew calm, and the winds, usually unpredictable, suddenly brought a refreshing feeling to you, unlike anything before.

Your own spiritual energy seemed more fluid, circulating smoothly through your body, especially when you were near the vast sea.

The weariness that had once plagued you seemed to vanish overnight, but in its place came a sense of doubt. Your instincts screamed that something was off, and you were sure it had something to do with your seemingly trivial action of sending the letter.

You weren’t ready to search for answers, though. Your instincts told you not to touch that which was best left unexplored, at least for now.

You continued writing letters, and now you were sure someone had been receiving them. When you stopped writing for a while, due to some life obstacles, you could sense the distant irritation of the sea.

You didn’t dare try to imagine the impossible, nor did you want to buy into the legends and rumors of the people on the shore. You weren’t ready to visit the Sea God's Island to uncover the truth either.

So when you finally resumed writing, everything seemed to return to normal. This time, you apologized for your absence, enclosed a few treats in the letter, and hoped no creature would intercept them before they reached their destination.

Bo Saidong smiled when he received your letter. Even though you had been absent for some time, he always forgave the little things.

His mature and composed nature, full of reason and understanding, remained as ever. After thousands of years, he simply read and kept the letters, never letting anyone know about this strange routine of his.

You were still unaware of the true recipient of your letters, and perhaps, when the time came, he would bestow upon you a special favor.

Paring : Ningrongrong / Ningfengzhi / Chenxin / Gurong

Rating : PG

Words : 793

Warning : No

Version : eng / th

Synopsis : You’ve been in a romantic relationship with them for a long time, but then you suddenly break up with them directly. And here’s their reaction when they hear those words from your mouth (Good luck surviving!)

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

 ⠀ ⠀ᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠᅠ

⤷ 　　 ﹒ 　　 ♡⠀⠀ NINGRONGRONG

The brightness in Ning Rongrong’s eyes had clearly dimmed. She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she looked at you with a calm, unreadable gaze. She was always confident—sharp-tongued and unafraid to speak her mind among those she trusted. But years of training under her father had taught her the art of diplomacy: to speak the words others wanted to hear. "Why...? Just yesterday, you told me you’d walk this path with me.” The sting of rejection surfaced, shaking her once-steady confidence. Still, she chose to bury it deep. Those crystal-clear eyes, usually so expressive, now held thoughts she couldn’t bring herself to say aloud. She had never been one to dwell in negativity. Instead, she sought to understand, to make peace with things beyond her control. She had to be strong—for herself, for the future she was meant to lead. Even though her hands curled into fists, aching to reach out and keep you by her side. “I bought you so many things... All of them—everything—you’ve ever said you wanted.” “And now, after everything... you're still going to leave me?”

⤷ 　　 ﹒ 　　 ♡⠀⠀ NINGFENGZHI

Ning Fengzhi’s shadow stretched long under the dim light. He didn’t look up from the stack of documents immediately after hearing your parting words. No reaction. No change in expression. And yet, something inside him was crumbling—quietly, without sound. He was a man who understood love—not as possession, but as understanding. He had always carried the weight of leadership with grace, never demanding to be the center of anyone’s world. He knew... sometimes, the most loving thing you could do was let someone grow on the path they chose for themselves. When he finally looked up at you, pain flickered faintly in his eyes—restrained, as always, behind the dignity of a man who had long accepted the loneliness of leadership. "I respect your decision," he said softly,"But know this—no matter where life takes you, in my eyes, you will never be the one who lost." He wanted to hear your reasons. He didn’t demand them. Even now, he placed your voice above his own emotions. Without a word, he reached for the emblem ring and an unrestricted expense card—symbols of his quiet, unwavering care. "Take these," he said, placing them in your hand. "Let them stand in for me. Use them as you wish." "And if the day ever comes when you choose differently—return." "The gates of this sect will always be open… awaiting its rightful Lady."

⤷ 　　 ﹒ 　　 ♡⠀⠀ CHENXIN

The silver blade in Chenxin’s hand gleamed, sharpened to perfection. He had heard your words—clear, deliberate, undeniable. And yet, he remained still. As always. He was never one to wear his emotions openly. Instead, he revealed them through decisions—measured, reasoned, but deeply human. Chenxin was a man who accepted mistakes, studied them, and refined himself through each scar life carved into him. He had trained his whole life—for strength, for clarity, for control. But your parting words unsettled him, if only for a moment. Just long enough for the silence to speak louder than steel. "Why would you say such a thing?" The sound of his sword slicing through the air rang like a quiet tremor—controlled, yet unmistakably tense. He stood firm, not with anger, but with resistance. Resistance to losing what his heart had already accepted as irreplaceable. "Two people walking together must be bound by understanding," he said, voice low but unwavering. "If your words come from boredom or doubt, then no—I will not let you go so easily." "I don’t want you to leave. Not because I wish to keep you... But because I don’t want you running from feelings you haven’t yet understood."

⤷ 　　 ﹒ 　　 ♡⠀⠀ GURONG