#mtchee's library

Being the Beloved of Teyvat--you could not very well agree with being 'the Creator' seeing as you very well did not code and encrypt and design genshin, though you didn't deem yourself its 'beloved' either but whatever, you win some you lose some--was incredibly overwhelming.

Particularly at first, after having been fearful for your very life and sanity and then being thrust into the limelight of literally the entire world, but you've learned to make do.

Though at times still, it was intimidating. Constantly dining on only the finest, wearing the rarest (and sometimes impractical) jewels and cloth (of which now you've put on hold until festivals), and living in an ethereal estate situated in the middle of the waters bordering the lands of Liyue, Sumeru, and Fontaine.

You're duties--which, admittedly, was a slow learning process for you--consisted of overseeing the people of Teyvat. At first, you'd often times be thrown into the deep end with various meeting from Liyue Officials, Sumeru Sages, Inazuman Leaders, and all the like, wherein you kept to yourself unless directly spoken to (which was... all the time).

Eventually you'd eased into the life, speaking up for yourself and declaring the authoritive entities for each nation capable of their acts, henceforth relieving you of such meetings unless absolutely necessary.

Really, you just got bored and all the important politics and finesses they talked about stressed you out.

You were still given many reports to oversee, along with an almost never ending number of letters from both important figures and common folk whom hoped to either wish you well or seek audience with you.

Unlike in historic transcripts, this time (apparently) you'd decided to take a more hands on approach in your duties. This being adventuring the lands and meeting with the people in person.

Honestly though, your social anxiety killed you but you were too meek to say anything much about that. Besides, it got you out of just slinking around the esate (castle? Palace??) so, whatever.

You don't think you'd ever be able to wrap your head around the whole 'our holy creator' thing though.

If this is what being famous was like, you didn't want it.

You had no idea what these people liked about you, enough to keep worshipping you even after meeting normal old you in the flesh.

But... that wasn't for you to decide, you suppose. Odd as it is.

"Your Grace~"

You jerk up at the sudden voice, almost loosing your page in your surprise.

You look up to see Venti smiling at you with closed eyes and his familiar carefree smile, and you close your romance book with a light hum in acknowledgement.

"Lunch is served~ Come, come! The picnic's been all set out now!"

Your shy suggestion of a day out in the forests of Inazuma had been clearly heard and happily granted, wherein the Yashiro Commision itself volunteered to make themselves available to cater to you.

You dusted yourself off from the grass and make your way over with the unnecessary help of Venti clinging to your arm. But he looked so happy, so you didn't compain.

Having made your way past the tree line from the cliffs and into a natural clearing, you were surprised at the number of faces whom you saw.

You spot Zhongli, Ningguang, the Traveller (Aether), Paimon and Tartaglia, and Nahida and Kaveh alongside Tighnari, Cyno, and Nilou. Lisa and Kaeya were chatting over a glass of champagne, with Diluc and Jean politely keeping to themselves. The sight of Furina and Neuvilette gave you whiplash--you figured the latter would have been much too busy with Fontainian matters.

You think you spy Xiao keeping an eye on things somewhere in the trees.

What shocked you moreso was also the appearance of the Yashiro Commision representatives themselves, Ayaka and Ayato, accompanied by their ever helpful housekeeper, Thoma, and Yae Miko and Ei.

The small crowd gave you the jitters before Venti dragged you into the centre of it all, guiding you to a purposefully situated pile of pillows to sit on.

You follow graciously, bowing your head politely at everyone with a quiet greeting.

Everyone else regards you with much more flourish before taking seats themselves. Many other pillows were scattered around, though you saw Itto (who somehow managed to crash in) happily laying on his side on a grass edge.

You place your book on a pillow beside you, thanking Zhongli when he passes you a plate of fruits he's noticed you'd come to favour.

"Thank you," You start slowly after moments of deliberating how much courage you had left for the day, "for organising this. Uh, especially on such short notice. I really wouldn't have minded just setting things up myself."

"Think nothing of it, your Grace," Ayato inclines his head towards you with a warm smile, "it is our utmost pleasure, I assure you."

You nod slowly, "Mm. And... thank you, all, for uh, coming out, as well. You certainly didn't have to."

You sweatdrop slightly, glancing towards Zhongli who sips his tea contently without a single worry. You don't doubt he was the one spread the word, given his proclaimed title as your most devoted.

"Nonsense!" Kaveh bows towards you, "I'd accept any invitation to spend time with you, your Holiness."

Itto lets out a belch after downing one too many tri-flavoured skewers.

"Yeah! Besides, we love having you here!" He grins unabashedly.

You bite back a smile behind a glass of fonta. Itto is funny.

You spot Tighnari narrowing his eyes at him from his lack of manners. You snicker through a bite of sushi.

Yae Miko spies the book beside you and hums, "Oh? Is that a book from my publishment?"

You side eye the item, not so subtly pushing it behind you with a small nod. She doesn't let up.

"Ah, one of our better known romances! How delightful~"

You can't help but feel embarassed at the proclamation, shrinking at the number of eyes that snap to you with interest.

"You like to read, your Grace?" Neuvilette tilts his head curiously despite it being more of an observatory statement than a question.

"Yeah, it's a nice--pastime, of mine."

"Oh? What types of genres do you prefer?" Lisa inquires from her place on a decorative, plush euro cushion.

"You know," Yae leans forwards with a mischevious glint in her eyes, "it's implied that the types of books people read are what they desire, particularly in romance."

"Is that so?" Nilou blinks innocently, and Yae Miko hums affirmatively in response.

"Oh, how lovely!" Nahida claps her hands, "your Grace, what types of romances have you read? Which ones appeal to you the most?"

The eagerness of her expression makes you feel bad if you don't answer, but the expectant looks of the others makes you reluctant. You take an obnoxiously large mouthful of yakisoba and motion at your inability to speak.

"Or is it the love interests that intrigue you the most?"

You want to deadpan at Kaeya's implicit undertone.

You roughly swallow your mouthful of food, just managing to avoid borderline choking on it to dismiss everyone's prying, "It doesn't really matter."

"On the contrary!" Venti grins cheerily, "I'm sure it's safe to say that most of us are very curious about our Grace's most intimate interests~"

You eye him wearily before slowly shrugging--there isn't much to tell. Prior to your iseaki'd life you didn't really care to mingle, instead prioritising your studies and friendships over romantic relations. You'd heard that some people had the occasional crush on you, but you never really explored your own preferences.

And fictional characters do not count.

So, like hell you'd say anything about them to them.

"Uh, well, don't get excited. I don't really have anything to tell."

"What do you mean, your Grace?" Ei's gentle prying has you shrugging once more, "have you not previously aquired a suitable consort?"

"But your Holiness," Venti gasps dramatically, "you must have had plenty of suitors!"

You wince at his loudness, stressing over his words. Would they think you pathetic? Would they believe you to be a prude? Or that you had some sort of twisted whore like behaviour?

"N-No," You sweatdrop, "I don't think anyone had been interested in me long term, and I was more focused on my pursuits than anything."

"Truly?" Yae Miko hums, "then surely now you must be at a stage of yearning, yes?"

"I mean, I-I guess..? Wait. No--" You feel a sense of dread wash over you as soon as the words leave your lips. You didn't really even mean them in the first place, you just wanted her to drop the topic--

"Oh! Your Grace is looking for a spouse?" Nilou brightens, clasping her hands together estatically.

"Hang on--"

Diluc raises a brow, "Is that really any of our business?"

"--this isn't--"

"As their most trusted acolytes, yes, indeed it is," Zhongli sits up straighter, amber eyes glowing with a sharp (if not determined) glint, "it is my, moreso yet, our duty to ensure our Dearest Beloved has only the best whilst simultaneously adhearing to their needs and preferences."

"Then wouldn't it make sense for our Creator's beloved to be one of their most reliable acolytes?" Tartaglia's words strike a chord within the group, each individual going still while you sit there stressing on top your pile of pillows.

It wasn't long after that picnic when the news of Teyvat's Beloved seeking a partnership broke out. The incident spread like wildfire, alongside information about your less than experiences.

While some were awed at your purity, more made speculations about your witholding until your chosen, and others praised you for your prioritising your duties over oneself.

It really wasn't that deep, but whatever.

Soon enough scholars and akademics from everywhere began debating on the choice of your potential spouse, namely between yours closest and most faithful acolytes.

One of the archons would be the most obvious choice. Each with their own nation and wider prospects, the only subjugation between them and you was celestia--of course you'd pick one of the Seven!

The strongest contender was Liyue's Rex Lapis--one of the remaining from the original. Known by many revered names, whether it be the God of Contracts or the God of War, Morax is and always had been without a doubt one of the Creator's most devoted.

He is known to be one of (if not the) most attentive to you, at your beck and call however you please. And though your wishes are so too his without question, he is also most discernable with his wisdom and experience. Should you need a guiding hand or a pliant ear, both your caretaker and your spear, Morax is your first choice.

The Electro Archon's dedication to you is undoubtable, as proved with her ideals towards eternity. While some argue it is only her recent disposition that sits her in legence as a suitor, others agree that having the Raiden Shogun by your side is a clear sign of strength and resolve.

In this, many agree that having her as your chosen would very well place her people at ease. Your connection to Beelzebub implicates a more personal approach to her duties, solidifying the nation's current state of peace and leaving the Sukoku Decree as history.

Aside from Mondstadt, many were skeptical about the Anemo Archon's potential to being your chosen. He's an inactive Archon, and whimsical in nature. To Mondstadt however, it does make some sort of sense for him to be a suitor.

After all, what is freedom if demanded by a God? In this comes the freedom of choice. Barbatos, in his presence, while inactive, has never abandoned his people. With him as your lover, you are guaranteed both flourishing love and solidarity. He won't be your pillar, but he will be the gentle wind caressing your cheeks, and the refreshing breeze leading you forth and easing your worries.

The Hydro Archon, while technically no longer their Archon, is still up for debate as a suitor. While some disapprove of her being a choice, like the others, her devotion to you is absolute. Unlike the others, Furina is moreso a celebrity to her people than a figure of worship.

Choosing Furina signifies a life of luxury and limelight. Entertainment is her forte, so keeping you light-hearted and well loved would never be a problem with her as your chosen! With that, your relationship would establish a stronger presence of a God amongst people, exceeding beyond your duties as the Creator.

If not an Archon, mayhaps one of the nations Officials?

How about Mondstadt's Acting Grand Master?

Jean is very meticulous in her work, and incredibly diligent. Living up to her name as the Dandelion Knight, Jean is steadfast and strong willed without lacking empathy. Aside from her tendency to overwork, with you she would without a doubt find a way to better manage her time.

Not only would you teach her to treat herself kindly, but she too would reveal to you the love and care any mortal could only dream to have the privilege of showing their Beloved.

Liyue's Ningguang is another strong competitor. She has all the funds and luxuries she could offer teyvat's Divinity, with her you would no doubt be bathed and lavished in everything the land could possibly offer.

Though some of her time might be torn towards her work, her attention would be yours so long as you so much as breathe for it.

Many believe that none other than Inazuma's Yashiro Commissioner would be the most suitable choice. In a matter of both wealth and diligence, Ayato Kamisato has it all. Without a doubt would he cater to your needs and preferences, worshipping you as you deserve.

While his work is of utmost importance, his heart belongs to none else. Plus, the people of Teyvat can rest assured of your person's protection thanks to the Shuumatsuban.

But don't disregard Sumeru's Acting Grand Sage, Alhaitham.

Although aloof and forthright, Alhaitham offers much more than meets the eye.

Though he lives humbly, he holds much wealth to look after and spoil his Beloved. In addition, his work ethic and nature deems him quick to return to your side from whatever he was called away for. Effecient and effective, Alhaitham holds a much deeper admiration than he lets on.

This is evident through his attentiveness and intimidatingly accurate deductions and observations--though, that just makes him all the better choice for a suitor.

Now last, but certainly not least, Fontaine's Hydro Soveriegn, Iudex Monsieur Neuvillette.

Despite his reserved lifestyle, many have noted his gentle nature, particularly when in the company of the Melusines. With this, alongside his reverence in court, he is labelled as another much suited choice for their Grace.

Bound to live a fulfilling life in Neuvillette's care, his worship of you is evident, ensuring you a reliable shoulder and adoring partner should he be chosen.

If not any of them, well, you still have plenty of faithful acolytes to choose from!

Mondstadt contains many delegates and powerful influences. After all, Master Diluc is known as the city of freedom's most eligible bachelor. Strong and independent, aloof but not apathetic, Diluc would be sure to take care of you, whatever you may want or need.

Cavalry Captain Kaeya is another suitable candidate, alongside the Favonius Knights' Librarian, Lisa.

Both are romantic in their own rights, with Kaeya you're bound to be wine and dined with a side of suave sweet nothings, whereas Lisa offers a peaceful night in with open windows and flustering praises.

Outrider Amber is a well known face in Mondstadt! With her, your days would never be gloomy, the girl would do her utmost to keep you well taken care of and happy with your spontaneous adventures!

Looking at Liyue, there are many of whom desire your holy praise.

Within the bustling city is Keqing, Ganyu, Baizhu, and Yelan--all of whom would rightfully drop their work and serve their most Beloved to their utmost.

Outbound towards the plains and cliffs are the adepti pladged to Liyue, particularly, Xiao and Xianyun. Although they are in oath under Rex Lapis, even his orders may be overruled in favour of a simple contented sigh from their Grace.

Similarly in Inazuma, you have many at your beck and call.

Yae Miko is one of the strongest candidates in this area, closely followed by the Yashiro Commission's Shirasagi Himegimi, Kamisato Ayaka. Both are respectable figures, though with vastly differing attributes to cater to their Beloved's preferences.

Perhaps the Tenryou Commission's Kujou Sara, or the Divine Priestess Sangnomiya Kokomi? Moreover, there's General Gorou, and Inazuma's renouned detective Shikanoin Heizou. Even the young, wandering samurai Kazuha from the former Kaedehara Clan.

If you so truly wished, there is also the infamous oni, Arataki Itto, alongside the ever skillful Kuki Shinobu and Thoma--all of whom would stop at nothing to ensure their Grace's happiness and comfort for all their days.

Sumeru is certainly not short of devotees.

Take the ever illustrious Kaveh, who would spoil you with the sweetest words one could utter with his dedication to you, or the ever shining Nilou, who dedicates her elegant arts to you.

So too would many others be of suit to stand by your side: Cadance, Deyha, Tighnari, and Cyno, even the every so prickly Wanderer would be awed as your lover.

As it is in Fontaine, the people readily introduce Navia as a suitor, even the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide has proved to be a potential partner! Despite his intimidating stature, his ideals and desposition deem him worthy.

Ignoring public scrutiny, those within the Fortress positively root for their warden; Wriothesley would no doubt be one of the best suitors for their Creator.

Outwardly, no one really addresses Snezhnaya on the matter, but even then they have to admit that while no one other than that nation wants them to be chosen, they are indeed rather suitable candidates.

The Tsaritsa, for one. Formidable, strong, steadfast and ambitious, however, her people know her to be elegant and, while icy, her cold touch is known to sooth those of whom she cares for. Aside from Rex Lapis, and if not for her underground state of affairs, she would surely be one of the most preferred suitors.

Each to their own, even the Harbingers harbour the potential to be their Beloved's chosen. With the Eleven playing to their utmost strengths, the main few with the strongest potential are Pantalone, Il Capitano, Arlecchino, and Tartaglia.

But overall, that's all only to name some of the strongest contenders to be their Grace's chosen!

Oh boy...

"Woojin-ah! Have you seen my jacket?" You call out, head buried deep into your side of the closet.

Gunwoo pops his head in through the doorway instead, "Hm? Oh, I put it in the wash."

"In the wash?" You lean back out with a frown.

"Did you say my name!?"

"Don't mind! Gunwoo, I'm doing a stock run for the cafe. Your mum needs me to go, and it'll be cold," You draw out a whine after calling back to your other boyfriend's distant voice. He's probably splayed out on the living room couch.

Gunwoo's big eyes flicker, his face suddenly downtrodden and you quickly backtrack.

"It's fine. It should only be quick anyway, I'll be inside for the rest of the day."

"I'm sorry," Gunwoo's thick lips form into a big fat pout, his voice apologetically soft and you want to bite him, "you can use one of mine, or Woojin hyung's. If you want."

He shucks off the dark puffy jacket that he's wearing and quickly offers it to you.

Habitually, you open your mouth to decline before hearing the wind whistling through the miniscule gaps in the window. You glance outside. It even looks cold.

"Mm, you're running deliveries today, aren't you?" Your brows pinch in concern, gently pushing outstretched jacket back to his chest.

Gunwoo shakes his head profusely, using both his hands to reinstate his now no-returns offer.

"We're doing some training first. Then we'll start on the deliveries," he assures you, tone much more firm on the fact that the topic regards your wellbeing, "I'll be warmed up before then. And I can pick up the jacket in between runs." He adds onto the end quickly, subtly coercing you to accept his choice.

You take in a breath, assessing him silently.

Gunwoo's sized up, back straight and broad shoulders no longer sagging, as to appear more self assured and resolute. His big puppy eyes once slightly glossed over from your chiding now hardened with a quiet resolve.

You huff through your nose, accepting the oversized puffy jacket with a hidden smile, "...Alright. Thank you, Woo-ah."

You can barely stifle the giddy butterflies you feel when he smiles at you.

Later that day, Woojin gives you the fright of your life while you're on your way back to the cafe.

You scream when a familiar himbo comes barrelling at you from around the corner of the street, tackling you in a semi-sweaty hug.

"JAGIYAAA!"

"Woojin-ah!" You shriek, bracing your arms over your head as the impact with his torso sends you flying. The only thing stopping you from hitting the ground is his eager embrace that quickly follows, catching you and tethering you to him in a tight hug.

"Are you crazy!?"

"Aish~ I missed you," he nuzzles into you obnoxiously, ignorant to any passersby that send you strange looks.

"Yuck!" You can't help but laugh as his nose tickles you behind your ear. You can feel the perspiration glossing the skin of his neck and you grimace, pushing him away with a grin.

"I saw you this morning," you reason when he looks at you, offended.

His brows furrow, "Barely. And it's not the same."

You roll your eyes at him, though you suppose it is thrilling to bump into each other on pure coincidence.

"Did you finish a delivery?"

Woojin nods, "Mm. I'm on my way to the cafe. Gunwoo's going too. We were arguing which street was quicker, but then I saw you."

"Well, then he's definitely winning."

"..."

You laugh when his face drops.

Steam disperses from the bathroom doorway, condensation dripping down the glass of the shower while the mirror over the sink slowly dipleats itself of the fog lining it.

You sit on the bed clad in one of your boyfriends' shirts and a pair of panties, planning on applying your body lotion after drying your hair. With the tub of cream sat beside you, you eye your faint reflection in the window pane, ruffling your towel through your locks.

Your impatience results in the rough fabric lashing against your cheek, and you wince, blinking off the abrupt contact.

A tinge of frustration nips at you before you take in a deep breath to calm you down. It's been a long day, and your little spa routine was a way of helping you unwind.

The day's toll must've been a lot worse than you thought.

You let the towel fall from your head and onto your lap, staring at it blankly. You can feel a flurry of emotions toiling within you, but you don't have the energy to process them fully.

In no time, small unshed tears begin to glisten your lower lash line and you scrunch your nose. Why are you almost crying?

It's not like you haven't had bad days before--and you've definitely had worse.

"Jagi..?"

You don't even hear Gunwoo approach, still staring at your lap tiredly. Gunwoo's brows furrow, and he leans down slightly to peer at you in concern. A small gasp escapes him at the sight of your glossy eyes and wrinkled nose, and he sits himself down beside you.

He parts his lips to say something before thinking better of it, he watches you for a moment longer, thinking to himself quietly before gently prying the towel from your weak hands.

"Here, jagi. Let me do this for you." His voice is tender, patient and coaxing as he shifts his torso to face your back, and he starts to dry your hair for you.

The only response he garners is a soft sigh while you lean your head back at his careful touch. Your quiet acceptance has him smiling gratefully.

He's a little clumsy with his large hands, but he's mindful of his strength, and gets the job done.

Eventually, Woojin wanders into the room from the kitchen after wondering where his two partners disappeared to.

"Hey, do we want--" he stops short when Gunwoo whips around and shakes his head at him. Woojin narrows his eyes at him, and the younger motions his eyes towards you, and then he understands.

"--A-Ah... okay," he's quiet, taking a few more steps inside the room until he's stood in front of you. He crouches down, hands seeking purchase on your knees and he tilts his head to meet your vacant gaze.

He murmurs your name softly in a song like tune, "How are you feeling, hm?"

Gunwoo's activity ceases as he waits for you to speak.

You match his eyes with a little bit more life in them, feeling more soothed than frustrated now.

"Tired.."

"Yeah?" Woojin spies the tub of lotion by your thigh and nods towards it, "can I do that for you?"

Your eyes flutter in a soft blink, and he waits patiently. You look at the body lotion and then slowly draw your gaze back to your lap again. A sudden embarrassed heat crawls up your neck at the state of you: hair damp and body hunched, braless in an oversized shirt that hides your underwear from view with your naked legs on display.

"A-Ah..." you hesitate, lips parted unsurely. Suddenly bashful, you look over your shoulder at Gunwoo who blinks and gives you a light, unassuming smile.

You look back at Woojin, who's gaze never left your deliberating form. He rubs his thumb across your left knee comfortingly, eyes kind.

A soft breath escapes you, and you feel oddly reassured by them. Despite the mild fluster you feel at the intimacy of their attention, you nod and give and affirming hum.

He doesn't take that though. He wants to hear you.

With a gentle squeeze on your soft thigh, Woojin purses his lips and looks at you expectantly, though the upward twitch of his lips indicates his playfulness.

You whine, diverting your gaze shyly as you lean back against Gunwoo who chuckles at you. You look up at him for help, but scoff quietly in receiving none, and so you speak.

"Okay..."

Woojin beams, all crescent eyed and white teeth, "Thank you, jagiya~"

He reaches for the tub, unscrewing the lid and scooping up an appropriate amount for application--he's watched you do this a good few times now after all.

After lathering his hands, he starts with your right leg. Shifting so he's bent on one knee, he prompts you to lean your weight against Gunwoo while he rests your foot against his knee, big hands massaging the lotion into your skin.

Although his touch is innocent, you can't help but squirm nervously when his palms stroke up your thigh, and he grins.

He handles you firmly, placing pressure on all the right places that have you sighing in relief. Gunwoo starts playing with strands of your hair, even leaning down to place a lingering kiss on the shell of your ear.

"Feel better..?" He lets out a happy hum when you nod lazily.

Woojin finishes by lightly tickling the sole of your foot, grinning when you squeal and try to jerk away. He relents, letting out tug it out of his grasp before he taps your other leg, giving it the same treatment.

All too soon is it over, and Woojin places a teasing kiss on your shin with a squeeze to your thigh when you pout. You cringe at the tingling sensation it causes, slapping his hand away while he laughs at you.

The rest of your hair would be fine to air dry now, so when you flick the end of the towel away from you Gunwoo takes it, blowing against your neck playfully before he moves to put the towel away.

You can't help but watch after him endearingly. To be loved is to be known, and both Gunwoo and Woojin have done more than you could've ever asked for, and that's not just on accounts of that night.

They always taken care of you, always looking out for you: by walking you to and from places, to treating you out, checking in on you during times when you're separated, spoiling you whenever they can for no reason other than just because--they've done it all.

And you couldn't be anymore grateful.

The slightly open window allows a sharp evening breeze to graze across your bare skin, and you shiver.

Woojin perks up, "Ah, are you cold?"

Having heard from the bathroom, Gunwoo comes back, immediately rifling threw the dresser drawers while you answer the other with a nod.

Spying the goosebumps across your legs, Woojin runs a warm palm over them twice before feeling a breeze on the back of his head, and he clocks on.

"My turn!"

With the older standing up and closing the window, Gunwoo quickly slams the drawers shut and steals his spot in front of you.

You sit up, startled at the sudden movement, giggling when Woojin whirls around at the claim with an offended guffaw.

Gunwoo kneels in front of you this time, a pair of rolled up fuzzy socks in his hand while he tugs you closer to him. You laugh as you're pulled across the bed covers, the comforter bunching up messily.

Gunwoo's eyes crinkle at the sound of your laughter, and he unfurls the socks before slipping them over your feet. It goes about halfway up your shins, keeping your toes nice and warm and you hum contently.

Like Woojin did earlier, he runs his big hands over the rest of your exposed skin, smoothing down your cold caused bumps with his natural warmth. He tugs down your shirt so it covers your lower half a bit more modestly, though you notice he can't help but sneak in a quick squeeze on your hip.

His ears are a bit red, otherwise he smiles at you unaffectedly.

"Yah," Woojin claps him on the shoulder chidingly, though his tone is light hearted, "no fair. I saw that, you sneak."

"Hyung..." Gunwoo whines.

You can't help but grin at them, heart swelling with an incogitable fondness for your two big puppies. Any prior distress thoroughly dispelled thanks to the loving care of your two partners.

And you couldn't ask for more.

Avoiding Katsuki Bakugo has been a piece of cake.

The guy has such an inflamed ego that he expects the people to part for him wherever he walks.

You met him when the hero course first years were scheduled to mix with the costume design students to discuss both the practical and fashionable output of their hero costumes.

You'd been one of the main designer's for Bakugo's suit, with two others having asissted you in its curation. From his original sketch, you'd syphoned the relevant materials for the prototype, your colleagues aiding in the stitching and detail while you further assessed how it could potentially enhance the use of his quirk.

'Beat it, extra.'

The words had tingled on the back of your neck after he growled at you before you could consult him on his gauntlets' latest design. You had swiftly looked him up and down with disgust at his audaciousness before slapping your sketchpad on the table in front of him and storming off.

You remember hearing the maniacal laughter of his friends while one of your other classmate's (the designer of Shoji's suit) shakily explained to him your presence.

You'd had much better things to do that day, but had decided to go out of your way to personally discuss with him his preference in design and utility so you wouldn't have to go back and forth with various prototypes.

Instead, you got cussed out before saying a single word; what an utter waste of your generous time.

Like hell you were going to deal with a soulmate like that.

You started wearing a thick, velvet choker to hide your golden inked soul words.

Since then, you'd sent your assistants to deliver any sort of message to him. With them doing your communicative bidding, you could put your full focus on the active improvement of his hero costume.

When it would come back burnt from training, you would change and reinforce its material until it was fire resistant. When it got ripped, you would reasses its durability. When his gauntlets got in the way, you would restructure them for better mobility and control.

One day when one of your assistants reluctantly relayed to you Bakugo's irrational displeasure with the pigment of his headpiece (for the seventh time), you'd sent it back hot pink with a black and white frilly ribbon.

He broke your lab door the same day.

Since then, when you'd send off your poor assistants in sacrifice, he'd rattle them and demand for you to face him personally.

You ignored him, but then when your classes started mingling more you couldn't get away from him quick enough.

One of your classmates would sweat in a panic off to the side as you worked at your bench tirelessly with thinned lips and an irk whilst Bakugo yelled and threw a hissyfit at your every move.

"What the hell is that supposed to be? Spandex?!"

"That looks like a lump of shit."

"God, it's ugly."

"Whaddya using that for? Weakass bullshit cloth."

"STOP MAKING IT PINK!"

"No way would that work with my quirk!"

"I'd blow that to smithereens easy."

You had to stop yourself from throwing your sketchpad at him most days. But sometimes you caved and summoned a roll of pink ribbon to stuff in his loud mouth.

He spat it at you and yelled even more, but that single moment of peace and his reddened face made it worth it.

On occasion, you would be lucky and actually get a few decent conversations out of him. His mouth was still foul, but his volume would be acceptable, and his suggestions surprisingly competent and reasonable.

On those days, he would leave with his voice intact, and you with one step closer to the final product.

Your impeccable work ethic and skills and Bakugo's mild decency lead you way ahead of the others in your unit. Eventually, you started having enough time to help out with some of the other hero costumes too--with the permission of both the creator and wearer, of course.

They've all been more than thrilled to work alongside U.A's renouned silent designer.

Although you worked quietly, you made more of an effort to communicate personally with the heroes in training regarding their costumes.

Most were surprised at that, having only known you to work alone and to commune from afar as you've done with Bakugo.

While word of your ingenius spread, unfortunately so too did your most recent work relations.

Bakugo didn't seem to find it funny that you talked to everyone but him.

So you threw all your stationary at him when he stormed into your design lab to make it everyone's problem.

But more specifically, to make it your problem.

"Miss me, nerd?"

Your scathing glare did nothing to Bakugo's arrogant smirk as he waltzes his way past everyone to your work bench.

You narrowly snatch up your latest prototype sketches before he sets down a pair of cold drinks on the table. The condensation drips down, pooling on its surface.

"This it?" He casually quirks up a brow at the strip of hard textured fabric and metal atop your bench. He picks up one of the drinks and slurps from its straw obnoxiously to get on your nerves, "hm, doesn't look like shit this time."

Lately you've been redesigning his utility belt to match the clasps between his protective gloves and gauntlets, additionally extending it to hold extra grenades that activate through his quirk. You've already sent in a request to the support department for those.

"Put ribbons on it like you did last week and I'll kill you."

You fight back a petty smile, recalling the pretty little pompoms decorating the numerous tiny pink bows stitched to each belt loop. He scoffs at your poorly concealed pleasure, and you turn your nose up at him, biting the inside of your cheek mischieviously.

He narrows his eyes at you before rolling them, placing his drink down way too close to your precious papers--again--and resting his cheek on his fist boredly.

Your lips twitch downward in ire at his intrusion of your space, but you work around him nontheless. You don't blink when he cusses as he smacks away a scrap of fabric you toss at him in casual vengeance.

"When's this gonna be done anyway--quit it. I've got a mission in Shinjuku next week." Bakugo snatches a pen you throw at him in mid-air.

You shrug at him, not your problem, but hold up two fingers anyway.

"Two days, huh," He clicks his tongue, "you slackin'?"

He cackles demonically while you log a chunk of stainless steel at his head.

Swear to god--you're gonna make his whole suit neon pink!

He visits you again after his mission, which is evidently successful judging by the fat cocky smirk on his face as he approaches while you stitch up a hero costume from class 1-B.

You deadpan at him as he drops a take away paper bag at the corner of your work bench. Then he tosses his empty utility belt over your most recent handiwork.

"Clasp blasted off."

Bakugo makes himself at home in the spinny chair opposite you, leaning back and putting his boots on the desk as he snags a tasty pastry from the paper bag before pushing it towards you.

An eyebrow twitches as you stare at the no longer existing metal clasp on the support item. A square char mark is left where it would've been. The belt is otherwise untouched.

What, was he aiming for it or something?

Scrunching your nose at him distastefully, you flick the belt off the costume you had been working on and resume your stitching.

"Oi! What about me!?"

You shoot him a sharp glare that makes him scoff. He pipes down nontheless, settling back into his chair with a roll of his eyes and a grumble.

Bakugo's visitations become more frequent.

At this point in time, his hero costume shouldn't need any more major improvements or adjustments until the start of your second year. And yet he's coming in what seems like every other day for any single little thing that bothers him.

Hell, he even comes in to bug you about repaires--you don't do repaires. But he argues that he doesn't want anyone but you 'touching his shit', as he so eloquently explains.

He's come in for his belt clasp six times now, his visor for four, his gauntlets for five, and for the sole of his boots thrice.

The bottom of his fucking shoes.

He can eat your sparkly, bow tied, hot pink and purple swirled shit.

He doesn't even need you anymore!

You're just some stupid non-hero extra. The hell is his deal now?

Bakugo's come in angry today.

He's normally angry, but it's different this time.

You watch him wearily from the corner of your eye as you type out a risk assessment at your desk. School's finished now, but you've been putting this off for a bit, and wanted to get it done while you were still feeling productive.

Less than ten minutes after the last bell rang out and everyone left for the day, Bakugo had come barging in with a stiffer than usual scowl and a dissatisfied furrow in his brows.

But he's been silent.

Bakugo's never been silent.

He sits in the seat adjacent to you, leant all the way into the backrest with his arms tightly crossed and his eyes narrowed, boring into your form.

Each time you glance at him you look away in a hurry as you meet his gaze.

Okay, now it's getting to you...

Slowly, your fingers stop typing, unable to function properly under the intensity of his stare. You don't look at him this time though, and you sweatdrop uncomfortably.

The tension causes your skin to prick, and you tug at your choker discomposibly. The velvet rubs at your skin, irritating it.

You jump when he suddenly speaks.

"What's up with you, huh?" He says it more like a statement, "you're so damn quiet it's eery. Say something."

You give him a disgruntled look.

Is he for real? Is that what his tantrum is about? He can go eat grass.

You turn your attention back onto your laptop, typing again.

He growls at that.

"Don't ignore me, damnit! I know you can say shit!"

Oh, and the shit I would say. You snicker to yourself, but that only seems to tick him off more.

"[name], answer me."

Your stomach drops--he's never called you by your name, let alone your first name. You glance at him again; Bakugo leans forwards with his elbows on his knees, eyes piercing you with a threatening intensity that sends off warning bells in your head.

You look back at him once you grasp the gravity of his tone.

Your annoyed frown fades, and your features soften as to prompt him. He takes in a deep breath, gaze flicking up and down your form as he processes his thoughts first.

He meets your eyes again with a determined resolve.

"I know you're my soulmate."

Fuck, what.

Bakugo scowls when you visibly stiffen, shock coursing your system.

"Get over yourself, you ain't slick. 'S why you've been runnin' from me." He crosses his arms across his chest, lips firmly downturned at your lack of verbal response.

Ice freezes your blood and your gaze flicks away from him apprehensively. What exactly is he expecting from this? Bakugo is a cocky bastard.

An egocentric prick with the means to flaunt it. He's one of the top students in the hero course and he knows it--what the hell does he want from you?

You feel your temper flare.

So what if he knows your soulmates? He obviously thinks he's too good for this shit; fuck fate and all that it stands for, you're just some side character behind him, just like he's said.

You aren't shit to him, and if he thinks he can actually do better than you, well then you know that you can. Who is he to pick and choose who he deserves? In that case, you know what, yeah, he's right, because you deserve better than him any day-

"What?" Bakugo's unappreciated tone fans the flames of the rapidly burning thread containing your tolerance, "still silent?"

"Shut up, asshole! You think you're too good for shit!" Your outburst as you slamming your hands down atop your work bench, the few utensils scattered about clattering in tandem with the vibration, "I'm not just some side piece you can bulldoze! I know my worth, even if you can't fathom it, you eighth-grade-syndrome twit!"

A tense silence settles over the room, and his eyes harden as you stare him down with an unwavering resolve.

Bakugo's lips twitch.

And then he's cackling like a hyena.

You flinch at the abrupt switch, scrambling to process whether you should feel glad or offended that he doesn't seem to be taking your words to heart.

You know for a fact you would not beat Katsuki Bakugo in a fight.

You shiver at the thought, and he beats his fist on the edge of the table as he recovers from his laughter. He lets out a long winded breath, wiping an exaggerated tear from his eye which you deadpan at.

"Ah, damn," Bakugo snorts, "we're really meant to be, eh?" He lifts up the edge of his loose shirt just enough to reveal the glowing golden words inked vertically on his toned waist, "knew there was a reason I could tolerate you more."

"Ditto." You spit out despite the relief flooding you as he stays put. You rub the back of your neck subconsciously.

He eyes the movement skeptically before motioning for you to move towards him. You scrunch your nose at him but oblige when he clicks his tongue irratedly. You've tested his patience enough already.

Once you're close enough he yanks you down and unclasps your velvet choker. You emit a scandalised gasp, feeling naked without it.

"Hey!"

"Give it up," He drawls, "get over yourself."

Bakugo latches a hand around your nape, pulling you forward so your head is bent level with his chest, and your face flushes. Both your hands grip at the armrests of the chair, caging him in as you fight not to fall off balance.

"Ack-" You choke at the feeling of him ever so gently tracing beneath the words on the back of your neck, "-stop that!"

He huffs a laugh, and his breath pans over your skin.

His eyes soften ever so slightly, "You're not jus' some extra, you know..." He lets you up. He ignores the imbuing embarrassment that pairs with the subtle blush tinting his cheeks.

You mull over his words for a second, pushing yourself back to face him head on. You blink slowly, registering his meaning. A gentle warmth settles across your cheeks, and a quiet glee bubbles inside you.

"Yeah?"

Although you bite back a smile, there's a hopeful glimmer in your eyes.

Bakugo grins, "Yeah," and places a reassuring hand atop your head, "not my soulmate."

"I'm not here to make friends."

Those were first words Shouto Todoroki said to you. Unfortunately, those were also the soul words written on the outside of your left thigh.

On your very first day at U.A, you'd barely even opened your mouth, having been about to utter a chirpy greeting to your blank faced classmate before he interrupted you.

Immediately your heart had dropped and you took a surprised step back. Though his face was impassive and his voice a monotone trail, the words and their implied meaning didn't bite any less.

Back off, I'm not interested--that's what he meant.

Thank god your uniform covered the glow of your soul words.

You'd stiffly bowed and quickly moved away, snatching a different seat on the otherside of the classroom before they were all taken.

In that single instant, you knew you would never get the happy ending you and your brother would always giggle about as kids. Even if you turned back around and spoke to him now, you knew he'd never come around. It was obvious he doesn't care.

It was evident he never would.

So why bother? It hurt enough now, and speaking up wouldn't change that outcome. So, you resolved to never speak to Shouto Todoroki.

Inasa was right, the Todoroki's were horrible.

You hadn't gotten in through recommendations, so you took the normal trials to get into U.A. It was no wonder Inasa was upset when he got home from the recommendation's test, Endeavour's son was just as stand-offish and cruel.

You thought your twin brother had been exaggerating, but you had always been more sensitive between the two of you.

No wonder he declined U.A...

And now you were stuck here, with a heartless soulmate and no brother to keep you company.

Is it too late to transfer?

You think your brother was more upset than you were when you later told him who your soulmate was. Inasa had teared up dramatically and collapsed to a knee in front of you, vowing to you that had he of known he would've taken you with him to Shiketsu instead like he should have in the first place.

You think you were still in shock though, since normally you would have burst into tears at the prospect of your soulmate rejecting you.

Subconsciously, you think you already accepted it too. He was a Todoroki after all. The son of the Number 2 Pro Hero Endeavour. If he knew, he wouldn't want you anyway.

Unlike your first day at U.A, before your first class where you had introduced yourself to most of your classmates and had been chittering away happily, you were quiet.

Luckily though, you befriended Ochaco Ururaka, Tsuyu Asui, Tenya Iida, and Izuku Midoriya, most of whom were more than happy to yap in your stead.

Todoroki had since lost any respect you held for him--even more so than from when your brother had first encountered him--but he still scared you too.

You didn't have the confidence that Inasa did to pull his nose up and scoff, rather, you tilted your head down and averted your eyes, nullifying your presence as much as possible.

To your misfortune, you had to verse Todoroki in 1v1 of the Sports Festival. You don't think he even remembered you, not that he said anything anyway. His eyes were as lifeless as his expression when he was looking at you, and you couldn't help but glare back.

Your quirk similarly manipulates the wind as your brother does, though while his quirk is Whirlwind, yours is Piercing Breeze. Whereas Inasa can manipulate and summon impossibly powerful gusts of wind, you can create and control short and sharp bursts of air that can cut through cliffs of stone.

The battle between you and Todoroki was a cruel one, where your quirk sliced through his protective walls of ice and littered him in various lacerations.

However, it was Todoroki who ended the fight victoriously after managing to forcefully kick you out of bounds after feinting an ice shield and propelling himself into the air as you did.

You had refused to look at him as Present Mic announced his victory over the speakers, keeping your head down as you trudged your way from the field, not bothering to see Recovery Girl before taking seat in the stands.

You ended up coming in third, but when you went home at the end of the day you cried in your brother's arms about the events. Inasa could only hold you tighter with pain filled eyes when you started to scratch at your soul words.

Silently, you damned the world around you.

In any other circumstance, you would be absolutely petrified at your own morbid thoughts, but desperate times called for desperate cussing.

Not only had you and the rest of class 1-A faced one too many debacles so early on in your schooling, but each time without fail you were in someway, somehow, paired alongside Todoroki.

Group projects saw you put in an assignment with Todoroki and a couple others. Training saw you either fighting alongside or against the dual haired boy. And, possibly worst of all, Midoriya and the others took a liking to Todoroki's company (like, how!?) so now he'd started sitting with your lunch squad. Also, you have dorms now.

Fun.

Eventually, you gave up trying to perk up and find your way around things, but you were just so tired now. And over it.

So you shut up.

With Todoroki in vicinity, you didn't say a word.

If you noticed him approaching, you would calmly turn yourself around and walk away.

You began excusing yourself from lunch and would grab something small from the vending machines before taking a long stroll around campus.

Your soul words had been itching painfully, so you started to keep a cooling patch on it to stop yourself from scabbing it anymore than you already have.

But every third or so day, you'd call your brother and cry about it.

About how much it hurt. About how irritating the micro scars were. About how the skin the words were etched on were ever so red and swollen and pulsing. You wanted to tear off the skin and be rid of it.

Inasa panicked at that one.

But you did nothing of the sort, you knew how low your pain threshold was anyway. That much was evident with your whining from a few scratches.

Tsu was the one who noticed you withdrawing the most, but you just brushed off the subject and changed it.

The Provisional Hero License Course was where it clicked for your closest friends. When they saw you reunite with your brother, they were surprised at how much... louder, he was than you.

But also at his uniquely polite mannerisms towards others his same age. Although, that part kind of made sense to them, seeing as your classmates had also witnessed that from you.

The first trial was fun, at least you thought so. Apparently, Inasa had talked you up to the point his own classmates (and hence, also your opponents) decided to leave you alone lest they face his nagging. You did have some trouble with a couple other schools, but you passed pretty early on.

It was at the final trial that it all went down hill.

You were successful in rescuing many of the false civilians in the debre, and you knowledge on their injuries and acting manner impressed many of them.

When Gang Orca and his croonies started attacking, you switched from rescue to defense as it was better suited for you quirk.

It just so happened that your brother and Todoroki also made that choice, however, clashed in their tactics.

"Inasa!" You'd called out after sending an onslaught of wind blades towards a line of crooks, "pick your fight elsewhere!"

But his eyes remained locked on Todoroki who was positioned opposite him from Gang Orca. A passionate anger fuels him on your behalf, and he couldn't pass up the opportunity to show up Endeavour's son and put him in his place for wronging his kin.

"What is your issue?" Todoroki finally called, frustrated at his continuously foiled efforts from his very much one sided feud.

"My issue," Inasa growled, sending a hurricane off to the side to gather up concrete and Gang Orca's accomplices, "is your issue with [name]!"

"What?" Todoroki frowned incredulously, not taking his attention off their main opponent.

"Inasa!" You snapped. He ignored you.

"We barely even talk."

Todoroki dodged a flying boulder.

"They're suffering because of you!" Inasa summoned another gust to throw Gang Orca off balance, but it's only intercepted by Todoroki's flame, "if you weren't so uptight and entitled--"

Your eyes widened, "Inasa--"

He let out a battle cry when his attack once again gets interrupted.

"--then maybe you'd have even a decent chance with a soulmate who aleady deserves WAY BETTER THAN YOU!"

Todoroki's attention wavered.

"--he doesn't know!"

Inasa's whirlwind stopped, and his heart dropped. Todoroki's gaze darted to your panicked form, eyes widening as he spied the inked skin on your left thigh from your torn costume.

He made eye contact with you, and everything seemed to stop.

Fear and shock painted your features, and both your lips and throat are dry from horror at the revelation your brother had dropped.

Todoroki's right wrist tingled pleasantly despite the terror filled words you uttered.

"...You weren't supposed to know."

Inasa and Todoroki failed to pass in the end.

Along with a few others, but they were lucky to be offered remedial courses.

You weren't so lucky though.

Well, you passed. But it wasn't long before your soulmate situation became common knowledge. On one hand, unsuspecting classmates came up to you to congratulate you on bagging the grade's pretty boy.

On the other, your friends knew better about it.

After all, Todoroki had been sitting with you guys for lunch and hanging out at many other points in time throughout the year.

You made the conscious effort to stay back from everyone when it was time to leave, spying your brother and some others from Shiketsu talking to Todoroki and your class.

You'd said bye to him earlier, though a bit gruffer than usual becuse of his mishap. You saw him bow lowly to everyone, speaking a few more words to your dual haired soulmate before you had to depart.

You sat beside Koda on the way back, knowing he wouldn't say much on the situation. You didn't miss the stressed and concerned glances he sent you though.

In the following days you dodged your friends like bullets--barely.

It didn't seem like Todoroki wanted to talk to you anyway, and it was easy enough to avoid him after school due to his remedial classes.

Inasa had apologised to you profusely afterwards, decidedly giving you part of his allowance to spend on your favourite drinks and snacks to earn redemption. You tried to give him the cold shoulder at first, but when his eyes had started watering you were quick to tear up with him and gave in.

You didn't bother approaching him on the subject of Todoroki again. You felt stressed enough that they shared their remedial class, and a bit guilty that one of the reasons for your brother's failure was because of your coulmate issue, though he didn't see it like that.

Since the hero licence course, your friends had been subtly poking at you to find out about your soulmate predicament.

Uraraka was intent on listening to your side of things, so she managed to squeeze out a few details from you. Iida was intent on you confronting Todoroki, which you sternly refuting facticiously that Todoroki didn't care anyway.

Midoriya was similar to Iida, though in a much more roundabout way. He wanted to listen like Uraraka did, but you also knew how much closer to Todoroki he was, so you kept your mouth shut with him.

At some points, Momo chatted with you between classes to piece things out on her own. It was unlike her to get involved, but you noticed while she didn't push you to talk to Todoroki, she made sure to address him in a positive light.

Tsu scared you the most.

She had cornered you (again) and made you fess up everything one night after everyone dispersed after dinner. You ended up bawling in front of your door from the stress of it all, and Tsuyu had panicked as she tried to calm you down. Talking to her lifted a weight off your chest, but it also made you relive all those repressed feelings of longing and anger and hurt. You cried yourself to sleep that night.

Damnit, Tsu.

The day that your brother finished his remedial classes, it all seemed to change.

Despite you teetering around the topic of your soulmate with Inasa, he suddenly seemed... invigorated?

Well, he normally is. But, it was different this time.

When he finally got his provisional hero licence, he called you and started yapping about the positively riveting tale of his harrows, before eventually cooling down to address the issue about Todoroki.

At first, your brows had furrowed in concern when Inasa talked light about his interactions with Endeavour's son, which eventually turned into praise about his skill and his ethic.

"Since his quirk worked so well with mine," Inasa had started, "there's no doubt that you two'd pair together perfectly!"

You almost hung up on his strange change in character.

Inasa had planted a seed. And your friends continued to nurture it.

The school festival was right around the corner, and gave everyone an excuse to hang out. At the suggestion of a performance, you'd bounded right up with Ashido to make up a dance, the two of you giggling and wiggling around in front of everyone in excitement.

When you caught sight of Todoroki watching you with a meticulously blank stare, you winced and shrunk back, looking back at Ashido with a lesser smile than moments before.

After most of the band had been decided (courtesy of Jirou), the topic of special effects took everyone's attention.

"Hold up, how's this for an idea!?" Ashido took the reigns once more.

"Uraraka makes Todoroki and Kirishima float! And then, Kirishima chops at Todoroki's ice and sends it flying! Then, Aoyama can be a mirror ball, and all the light twinkling off him and the ice will make it look like it's raining stardust!"

"You know," Momo intercepted, thumb and index finger beneath her chin, "[name]'s quirk would actually be perfect for that. Instead, Uraraka could make [name] and Todoroki float, that way, with the suble manipulation of [name]'s quirk, the movements would be much more fluid, and they could continue the dance routine in the air."

"Oh! That's a great idea!" Ashido beamed.

You felt a cold sweat break down the back of your neck.

"Indeed, that would be much more effective!" Iida stiffened, but blatantly ignored you when you spun around with a disbelieving glare.

That settled your schedule for the festival preparations. When the class wasn't practicing together for the dance, everyone was split into their groups for their assigned tasks.

You were positively sweating at the prospect of speaking with Todoroki--but you didn't want to let the others down.

It was the first time you would talked to him since the incident, and the second time actually talking to him altogether. You stuggled to meet his eyes first time around, his gaze intense with slow, cat like blinks.

You started the discussion, stictly about your parts in the performance, which he only ever added to when necessary, otherwise he was busy observing you.

It was only after scurrying away that you processed how amicable he and patient he was, simply waiting unperturbed as you gathered your thoughts and piping up gingerly when your ideas needed a nudge.

But you digress, it was strictly business.

At least, it was for you.

For some reason, Todoroki took that initial conversation as an ice breaker of sorts, and immediately started seeking you out for things pertaining to more than just the school festival.

When you sat down at lunch the next day, he made a point of sitting right beside you with a bottle of one of your favourite sodas that the vending machine had ran out of when you checked. You couldn't help but pout at the sight of it before turning back to your food.

Your sad bottle of unopened water was then swiftly stolen from your tray right in front of you, and then quickly replaced by the carbonated drink you oh so desired.

You straightened in surprise, looking to your left only to see Todoroki slurping up his soba undisturbed.

You hazarded a look across the table and spot Uraraka and Midoriya still with wide eyes and Iida biting back a small knowing smile. You glance at Tsu beside you, and she blinks slowly with each eye individually.

Todoroki sat beside you at dinner too, but not before having taken your plate and filled it with parts of the meal that you liked most, ensuring you got first serve before sitting down.

A few seats across and down from you, you saw Momo cover her mouth with a light chuckle.

The dual quirk boy also volunteered to clean up with you, though that only really consisted of him shadowing you in the kitchen as you put away the clean dishes.

You worried at first. Not that you really thought he'd do anything to you, but after having avoided each other for so long it was... nerve wracking.

Since you were used to keeping your mouth shut around him, it was kind of hard to break that habit.

In class when you yapped to the others, you could spy him staring at you from your peripherals. If you went out of your way to seek someone out, he would watch you converse intently.

You only really talked to him again at the next rehearsal for the festival, but he sat with you once more at both lunch and dinner. You had an inkling that you had no choice in the matter.

He was quietly stubborn.

The cycle continued for the upcoming weeks, the school festival drawing closer and closer. He'd started initiating small talk with you during lunch, and he'd lean a bit closer to engage with you at dinner. Gradually, you started talking to him on your own--and really, he wasn't that bad.

To be fair though, having your soulmate reject you before they even knew you was hurtful.

But you did also carry the guilt of having not spoken up. Still, he obviously didn't want anything to do with you.

You figured he didn't care about the whole soulmate debacle, so you put that behind you and focused on making subtle amends for ignoring him.

Sure, the thought about the rejection still stung a bit, but what was there to do? Todoroki wasn't making a fuss, so neither would you.

Your soul words didn't itch as much anymore.

It's now the day of the school festival, and you are buzzing with nerves. Sure, practicing the dance and details with your classmates was fun, but now, you actually had to put that plan in motion.

But you refuse to let it dampen your mood!

You gotta keep the energy up for everyone else! Though some of your friends were ecstatic, others such as Midoriya and Jirou look just about ready to keel over.

Todoroki hadn't really left you side all morning--you did drag him out to practice your moves one last time though, before your nerves got shot and you stiffened.

He kept up with you bouncing around and checking in on everyone, and helped you set up wherever you offered your assistance. When he noticed your energy already starting to deplete he turned around to retrieve a tangerine, a small packet of cookies, and a bottle of your favourite flavour of fruit infused water.

You couldn't stop your knee from jumping up and down anxiously, even when he firmly sat you down on a set of stairs outside the gymnasium.

You made sure to distract yourself by babbling about all the preparations so your stress wouldn't overwhelm you, Todoroki standing beside you peeling the tangerine as he listens.

"--the box nearly tipped, so the streamers would've gone everywhere, but Shoji caught it before it did, so it was fine. Also, the sign Denki made was spelled wrong, but Momo did something so it actually looks like it was meant to be that way--"

Todoroki crouches down in front of you, holding out a meticulously peeled tangerine slice that he feeds you when you open your mouth.

"--Mmf," You lick your lips, "thanks. Momo's super resourceful that way, which is cool. Iida's similar, I think, but he lacks the creative capacity she has."

He feeds you another piece.

"--Uraraka's getting nervous, I can tell. But Mina's been hyping her up, so I think she'll be okay. Also, have you seen Midoriya? He might've gone to the bathroom but it's been so long... oh, also, Ojiro needs help setting up the synthesizer since Jirou's busy with the mics. Then we need to do a sound check."

"Drink this."

Todoroki pops open the bottled drink, watching intently to make sure you get your fill. When you go to talk again he tips the bottle back up to your lips for another sip before nodding contently.

"Mm!" You perk up, more energised now, "I love that flavour."

A smile tugs at his lips, "I know."

"Thanks for helping me with that ladder by the way, I didn't see Hagakure when I was walking with it--no pun intended. I would've wacked her with it if you weren't there."

When you're done with the tangerine (rejecting his offer of the last few slices, which he then eats instead) he opens the packet of cookies.

He hands it to you absentmindedly when you make a quick grab for it, the processed sugar and chocolate bits being much more appetizing than fruit.

"Oh, I love this brand!"

Todoroki watches you fondly as you munch down two at a time, nodding off handedly at your statement.

As you continue your ramblings, your nerves gradually lessen--as does the amount of cookies. When he offers you the drink again he spots a smudge of chocolate on the lower corner of your lips and gently grips your chin with his hand to thumb at it.

He pays no heed to your sudden silence as he cleans your face, humming contently when the tiny mess is gone and leaning back casually.

You blink at him.

"What was that."

"Hm?"

You frown, "That."

"Don't worry too much," Todoroki ignores you in favour of addressing your prior anxious babbling, "the performance will go fine. Everyone's worked really hard too. We'll do well."

He kisses you on the cheek.

You feel faint.

"What was that."

"What?" Todoroki blinks stupidly.

"That."

The change in his features is subtle, but he almost looks like he's pouting, "Did you not like it?"

"What?"

"What."

Your face burns, and you frown at him, "Don't copy me. You need to answer my question."

"But you didn't answer mine?"

The sheer audacity of this man to tilt his head at you after a move like that.

"You... You kissed me!"

"You didn't like it." He comes to the conclusion with the look akin to a kicked puppy.

"I-I didn't say that!"

"What do you like then?" His face is carefully stilled as he watches you with round eyes, "what do soulmates normally do?"

"What."

"What?"

"Stop that!"

His head bows, "You still didn't answer my question.."

"You've... soulmates!?" Your heart thrums in your chest, and a rush of feeling threatens to overwhelm you, "you want to be my soulmate?!"

His carefully placed mask breaks into surprise at your outburst.

"Of course I do," His eyes pierce into you like you've said something strange, "why wouldn't I?"

Your mouth drops in shock and disbelief, "B-Because! You said," your hand rests over the covered words encripted onto your thigh, "you're not here to make friends..."

"Oh," He has the decency to look ashamed, "sorry. I didn't know those were your words. Is that why you didn't want me to know?"

"Well, duh! I thought you rejected me!" You huff, taking an angry sip from your tasty water, "Inasa really didn't like you then, you know."

He breathes out a laugh, "I realise."

He watches you adoringly, and when you glance at him you're suddenly all too aware of his closeness. As your lips part from the rim of your bottled drink you're reminded of his chivalrous acts from the weeks prior.

You had thought he was being weird, but you also didn't really care to get to know him before then. Whereas he, on the other hand, did attempt polite conversation when he first started sitting with your group at lunch. He was also civil with you whenever you were paired together for anything.

You suddenly felt awful.

"What about now?" Todoroki's voice pulls you out of your pit of self-deprication, "what do you think? Do... would you like me to be your soulmate?"

When you look at him knelt before you, a subtle pink flush on his cheeks and an almost unnoticable nervous shake in his otherwise placid tone, you can't help but swell with happiness and relief.

You decide to pay him back with a kiss on his scarred cheek, and he takes in a sharp breath.

Your cheeks ache with how wide you smile at him, "More than anything."

As it turns out, you would get your happy ending after all.

What is this bullshit.

You can't help but just blink at the Archon knelt at your feet, his head bowed low. When you emit a shocked squeak he looks up at you, amber eyes latching onto your flustered expression.

Your gaze darts around the few others surrounding your throne--you only really sit in it when the people of teyvat line up for personal prayers and blessings, or when someone tells you to. Otherwise, you avoid sitting in it.

Venti, Ei, Al-haitham, Ayato, Ningguang, Jean, Furina, Neuvillette, and Tartaglia stand past Zhongli who is knelt before you.

You force a polite smile and let out a nervous laugh, "Aha, um... d-dont.. you don't have to do that. Really."

"Do not misunderstand, Beloved," The geo Archon stands to his full height, and you feel small despite the grandness of your seat, "it truly would be my--our, utmost honour." He places a hand over his heart and bows lowly by the waist. The others follow in tandem, and you panic.

"No! Really," Although all your fanfic dreams were coming true, knowing that these are now very much real people and not just characters put you on edge. They all have their own lives to live, their own goals and ambitions, likes and dislikes, preferences and attractions that you certainly didn't and never would attain.

At first, the idea is flustering and the offer makes you feel giddy, but looking into it, you feel bad. They see you as their All-Maker, who are you to make them miserable?

"You don't need to do that. I-I know there's that rumour going around, but really, I'm fine by myself."

"Your Grace," Ei steps forwards with a tiny furrow in her thin brows, "please, it would be our honour--"

"You know what would really be an honour," Your heart stings slightly, but you straighten up on your throne and give your audience a reassuring smile, "is if you went out on your own to seek who you actually love, to find a partner you'll be happy to spend your time with--to love on your own accord. That, would be an honour, I'd say."

You're not oblivious to how everyone reels back at your words, a mixture of shock, fear, and disbelief covering their features sported by prominent frowns.

Al-haitham is the one to break the tense silence that freezes the room.

"Beloved," His eyes flicker over you, thought and theories wiring around his ever working mind, "are we unsatisfactory?"

You blanch, "Gah! No! Oh my--it's nothing like that!" You can't help but feel flushed under the intensity of their eyes.

"It's just, you need to not see me as a duty."

You address them calmly, forcing your fluttering feelings down to school your face passively.

"You need to focus on yourselves, and your own lives. I'm not here to come between that."

Their silent stares are unnerving, and Venti and Furina share a look with hidden smiles while Jean steps forward with a respecful bow.

"Of course, your Grace."

"F-Fuck..!"

Embarassed tears sting your eyeline while you hold your breath, desperately trying to get ahold of yourself.

Plap! Plap! Plap!

Your pretty eyes roll to the back of your head and a loud moan is forced out of you each time Ayato's fat cock plunges in and out of your sloppy cunt.

He sits leant against the finest silken pillows with your naked back pressed against his bare, toned chest, an arm wrapped securely around your waist while the other sweetly fondles with one of your spit laden breasts.

Thoma lay stomach down on the soft doona, face buried dutifully between your quivering thighs which he holds apart with surprising strength. He tongues at your swollen clit fervently, and you cry out in humiliation when your slick gushes from your slit and onto the expensive fabric below.

"G-nngh!" You clench your eyes shut at the embarassingly loud noise of skin slapping against skin and the lewd sucks of Thoma's mouth and the squelching of your pussy, "a-ah..! Ah! Ah!"

The Kamisato Commisioner lets out a low moan by your ear, feeling your hot and gummy walls squeeze down on his cock deliciously.

"Remember-- hng! R-Remember to breathe, my beloved."

He gently squishes the enticing softness of your tit, bucking up into you abruptly when you let out a squeal as he pinches your nipple.

"M-Mm~ my dearest," Thoma moans onto your slickened pearl, and you just about explode at the burst of electric pleasure that shoots up your spine, "you taste.. divine..~!"

Your heart thrums at the messy sight of him, his lips, chin and cheeks covered in your honey thick slick with half lidded eyes locked onto your expressions. You let out a needy moan when you notice him desperately grinding his naked hips into the bedding for release.

A now all too familiar searing pleasure suddenly coils in the utmost depth of your body, and you scream at the sheer ferocity of it.

"C-Can't! I can't!"

You buck your hips away from Ayato's throbbing length and bump into Thoma's chin, but they only follow you--the commisioner's arm moving from your waist to your hips, locking you in place while Thoma's grip moves from your thighs to the underside of your knees, opening you up and forcibly holding you still.

You dig your nails into Ayato's arm, your other hand fruitlessly shoving at the housekeeper's head to push him away.

The pleasure becomes piercing, and you choke on a sob as your gushing cunny just goes squelch, squelch, squelch with every thrust you have to take. His cock feels so dangerously good, and you fear your clit might bleed from its continuous onslaught of pleasure.

Thoma's tongue licks at the opening of your slit and the base of his lord's cock, and Ayato curses lowly, his grip tightening.

You feel something thick and heavy and hot spurt inside you, though the pounding doesn't let up and the near painful coil violently pops inside you, and you shriek in tandem with the burst of watery clear fluid that squirts from your throbbing cunny.

Your face burns hot with humiliation, and you can only muffle your embarassed moans into the fabric of the couch.

Naked and vulnerable, you're bent ass up and face down over Al-haitham's lap with his dominant hand knuckle deep in your wet pussy.

Maybe, just maybe you might've been able to handle this amicably, but not with Kaveh walking in and berating the Akademia Scribe turned Grand Sage on his pleasure skills.

With your ass held high and knees spread, your leaking cunt is on display for the genius architect while his roommate fingers you ruthlessly, constantly prodding and rubbing that special squishy spot inside you that renders you immobile.

"H-Hah.. mmngh! Ah..."

You can do nothing but take it and drool on the couch while they squabble above you as though you're not there.

"--Y-You brute! That's our beloved and you're treating them like that!?"

"I'd say our Creator quite likes it."

You stifle a screech when Al-haitham takes his other hand and spreads your ass open to prove his argument to Kaveh.

"See?" He takes out his fingers and spreads them apart, watching your hot slick string apart, "and here too." You sob loudly as he gently prods your pussy lips apart to stare down your red, throbbing clit.

Kaveh's face flushes at the lewd display, and he gulps while setting his suitcase down off to the side before approaching.

"A-And?"

"[name] has cum thrice already."

Kaveh's brow twitches, "Were you not going to clean them up?!"

Al-haitham huffs indifferently despite the miniscule tint of pink arousal across his cheeks, "I'll leave that to you."

The blond hmphs at him before cooing at you softly, praising you with your title and demeanour.

"Our beloved," He caresses your back, and you shiver pleasantly at the tingle it stimulates, "you've been so good, haven't you? Done so well..."

He hushes you gently as he moves closer behind you, kneeling at the couch's edge, face level with your puffy cunny. Al-haitham remains quiet this time around, his non-slick covered hand patting your head lovingly.

"It's okay~ I'll take good care of you now, I'll clean you up all nice, alright?"

You only whine when he sinks his tongue into your pussy, lapping up your spilled juices and nipping at your reddened bud. Your body trembles with an absentminded moan when he sucks on your sore little clit, and he emits a noise of suprise as a new abundance of syrup leaks from your opening.

Al-haitham quirks up a brow, "Four times, now."

"Mercy! M-Mercy..!" You cry out.

"Oh," Lisa tuts demeaningly, "no, no, no dear one~ You see, you didn't quite seem to believe our intentions true when we offered ourselves to you. So it only seems right that we prove it, yes?"

You can't squirm away from Eula's mouth, her strength baffling as she keeps you stood still against the Grand Master's desk with ease. Amber mouths at the mounds of your breasts, obessed with how soft the fat of them are.

You whimper loudly when Eula curls her two fingers into your front wall, clenching down on her and nearly screaming when she thrusts them into you punishingly.

Jean can't help but watch in stunned silence of you, your voice and body ethereal. She can't wait to get a taste of her own as you shudder and gasp.

It was bad enough when Venti had his way with you earlier under Vanessa's tree, simultaneously teasing you and giving you everything you wanted.

He ran his mouth with words that were both endearingly sweet and pure debauchery, controlling the winds to graze at your hardened nipples with ghost like touches that left you spasming and breathless.

He'd shown you his choice of belonging to you through the intimate thrusts of his hips and sloppy, loving kisses across your body--he'd then guided you back to the gates of Mondstadt with the help of the wind to keep you balanced.

You cry when a thin zap of purple shocks your pulsing clit, cumming instantly while Eula's tongue soothes over it with the help of her cryo ability. Your lewd honey drips down your leg and onto the floor, and the blue haired girl sneers at the waste of it.

A whimper escapes you when Amber nips at your soft tit a little too harshly, and she murmurs a timid apology, looking up at you reverently before continuing.

"P-Please..!" You hate how they've all been able to make you cry with pleasure, as though they always knew just what they were doing to you, "it..-it hurts now..! A-Aaahhh..."

You let out a long, breathy whine as you cum again, tears steaming down your cheeks as the gentle wave of bliss washes over you. You almost miss Acting Grand Master Jean calling for someone to enter after a knock on the door.

Humiliation of your state causes you to flush and shut your teary eyes as Kaeya walks in, gaze latching onto you immediately.

He closes the door behind him, humming lowly at the sight.

His eye glints in dirty interest, a grin creeping up his lips at the sound of your whimpers and sloppy cunt.

"Oh? It's our turn already?"

"Kaeya! You're just in time," Lisa grins mischieviously, "I believe our dearly beloved is ready for something... thicker, now." She smiles as though her filthy implication were a casual statement of time.

You hate being the centre of attention, but fuck does it feel good. You hate feeling so vulnerable, but good god do they take care of you.

Maybe, just maybe you could allow yourself to indulge in their affections...

Nope.

Hate. You hate, hate, hate, hate hate it.

You whimper quietly, head bowed to hide your face from the prying eyes of the others seated around you.

You're back in the lands of Inazuma, in the very same place you were last time the picnic was set up. It was much more lavish this time around, based in the early evening with a gorgeous ocean view, lights strung up in the trees and scattered atop a few stable rocks.

The blankets laid down were much thicker this time, and the pillows larger and fluffier. The sunset paints the horizon gold and pink which fades into a rich purple and, eventually, the glimmering darkness of night.

You sit in Zhongli's lap, a spare blanket covering your bare lower half as you squirm on his throbbing cock. You could feel his other drooling pre-cum against your lower back.

The others had been coaxing you to eat your share of the platter, Navia and Wriothesly feeding you small portions since you were too shy to do so yourself.

Though ashamed and bashful, you can't help but clench and throb, and you fluster when Zhongli lets out a small groan from behind you.

Navia places a comforting hand on your covered knee.

"Beloved Creator, are you alright?" Her voice is soft, loving.

You swallow sharply, shoulders hunched and tense nervously from those watching.

"Your Grace?" You glance over at Diluc who huffs with a small blush of his own, "we'll take care of you."

Your cunt throbs, and Zhongli thrusts into you.

You yelp at the sudden motion, straightening up instinctively to balance yourself only for your most devoted to thrust into you again, and again, and again. His arm wraps around your waist to keep you seated, and the blanket slowly slips from your lap from the movement.

"A-Ah! Zhon--aahhh!"

Squelch, plap, slap, his fat cock hits the textured roof of your squishy insides and sends an overwhelming shock of pleasure through you. Throwing your head back with a lewd moan, both your embarassment and arousal increase tenfold at the sight of your most shameless worshippers touching themselves at the sight of you.

Others swallow roughly, barely holding themselves back with a single thread of dignity. Those of them watch with eyes that burn your body into memory, and the intensity both frightens and arouses you.

The better of them murmur and coo praises at you, causing your stomach to flutter and your pussy to gush.

You pant loudly when Ayato softly intructs you to breathe, and you squeal when Tartaglia reachs out to play with your pretty clit while rubbing his neglected cock.

"Pl..ease..! Hah..!"

You feel a pair of lips on your neck and whine, whimpering shamefully when Neuvillette starts whispering sweet praise into your ear, sucking on your skin softly. You white knuckle the thick blanket by your forcefully opened legs and clench your eyes shut in humiliation.

Your cunny starts to tingle with sparks of pleasure that strike your overstimulated bundle of nerves, and you flush at the feeling of your sex juices trailing from your slit to your ass, soiling Zhongli's clothed lap and the pillows and fabric below.

"Hng! Cumming! AH!" You shriek, thrashing in their hold, "c-cumming! H-Help, 'm cumming-- oohhh~ Ohh~"

That weird prickly feeling coils in your tummy again, and you let out a lewd and bratty whine when they don't let up on their touching.

"S-Slow! PLEASE! F-Fuck! Feels funn-y~!"

When you slap at Childe's hand, your own are quickly restrained by Kazuha who simply smiles with red cheeks and mutters to you flowery reassurances.

The sound of your pussy is loud, it's noisy, and filthy. You emit a desperate, pleading wail, not knowing if your subconscious is trying to beg them to stop or to stay.

Saliva pools in your mouth then begins to hang open as your starry eyes roll into the back of your head, chest heaving.

Your thighs tremble and your fingers twitch--Kazuha intertwines them with his own, and you lock onto the comforting hold.

"G-Good!" You can't stop yourself from babbling, "m-makes me feel soOo goood~!"

"Oh, sweet one~" Yae Miko giggles.

"You understand that we choose you now, yes?" Ningguang hums with a teasing quip. Her eyes torn between your adorably lewd features and your swollen, glistening cunt.

"Relax, beloved. It's only us, your most faithful~"

"Mm, don't hold back, dearest."

"Can you moan for us, beloved? You sound just delicious when you moan!"

"Are you gonna cum for us?"

"It's not fair how they got a taste of you first~!"

"Hng..! A-ah, hah!"

"Oh-oh! Beloved, calm down, you're alright. Just let it happen.."

"Do you feel good, your Grace?"

"--c-cumming- cumming! Cumming..!"

A white hot blaze of heat crashes over you, and your ears ring as your body trembles in utter bliss. Your slick pussy squeezes and gushes with your lewd honey, and as your abused little pearl sears with an almost painful pleasure, your body squirts out your most powerful orgasm that soaks the blankets and the people surrounding.

Pleasure caused tears leave hot stains on your face, and your head lulls to the side tiredly. Your chest heaves for breath as you come down from your high, and it takes a few moments before the ringing finally stops and you can hear again.

Doting whispers and coos are the first thing you process, followed by something thick and hot leaking out of your stretched and now empty hole.

A hand caresses your head as many others touch on you innocently, checking in on you and taking care of you.

Someone holds a glass to your lips, and someone else helps you lean forwards to sip.

You startle at the feeling of a soft mouth coming to gingerly lick and suck at your sore pussy, and you let out a delirious whine.

Another acolyte hushes you gently, kissing you softly before another joins in peppering kisses all over your tired face to distract you from the one cleaning you up between your legs.

You still feel light headed from the embarassment of it all, but you've latched onto the pleasant tingling you feel when they look at you so adoringly--more lovingly than just in reverence.

No, actually.

You don't hate this at all.

"Sorry," comes your hushed response, almost hurried as you clutch at the fabric of his t-shirt.

His hands comes to rest on yours, large fingers easing your tight grip as he ever so barely parts from you, breath fanning across your skin. You can practically hear the smile in his voice.

"Don't be sorry," he huffs, "it's okay to be nervous. You let me know if it gets too much, yeah?" His voice low, intimate, almost a whisper even though there was no one else in the room but you, "tell me if you wanna stop, at any time, okay?"

"'Kay," you omit softly, eyes drawn to the deep contours of his collarbone, too shy to look elsewhere. He chuckles at you, chest rumbling with light mirth, and you too can't help but crack a smile.

Mirio presses a comforting kiss to your forehead, moving down and peppering his lips across your skin. From your temple to your cheek, to your ear and down your neck, you can't help but tilt your head to make room for him, sighing quietly at the sensation.

He melts your body against his with staggering ease, knowing just how to get you all pliant.

You always have a hard time saying it, admitting it to him only ever once, but you're truly smitten by him. Moulding to his touch, clinging to his every word--you never have to tell him how affected you are by him, he sees it all, and he knows. But sometimes, he likes to tease.

"Do you like this, baby?" He grins against your neck, feeling you huff against him, threatening to pull away in your fluster.

"Miri..." You whine, and he chuckles once again. He murmurs half-hearted apologies against your skin, featherlight kisses dancing across your throat.

"Stupid," You puff, and he snickers at you, "you'll regret that. I'll make you."

"Oh yeah?" The playful lilt in his tone has you scowling.

"Yeah."

"Mmm, yeah," he breathes softly, gazing at you adoringly in the dim light, "I know you will."

Your heart stutters at that, and you swallow around the anxious-excited lump in your throat. How dare he, you have half a mind to think to yourself, the other distratced by the way he handles you against his body; when did Mirio get so suave?

Reaching up to pull him into a kiss, you can feel the heat from his cheeks warming your palms, and you smile against his lips. He lets out a shaky sigh through his nose, equal parts flustered and endeared, and then you remember that just as he affects you, you absolutely melt him.

A blur of passionate kissing and sensual touches eventually leads to you splayed on across your shared bed, the covers bunching up beneath you as Mirio chases you up to the head.

With you lain comfortably atop your pillows, your hunk of a man hovering over you excitedly, he pulls away with a heavy sigh, resting his forehead against yours and blushing when you let out a protesting whine. He bumps his nose against yours affectionately, giving you another kiss and giggling sheepishly when your teeth clash by accident.

Ah, yes--there he is, your not quite casanova.

He bumbles nervously for a moment, the weight of the event suddenly hitting him. He kneels above you, resting on his shins as he cautiously tugs at your top.

"Together?" He offers gently, and you comply. As you shuffle to take of your shirt, he pulls his own over his head, tossing it somewhere off the bed. You take the liberty of taking off your undergarment as well, and, with your eyes adjusted to the light darkness, you watch as his head very obviously follows where you throw it--like a dog would a bone--and you snicker.

"You're funny." You inform when he bends back over you, shielding you beneath him.

He huffs a laugh, caught, "It's a talent."

A soft sigh escapes you when he returns to his worship of your skin, this time moving lower towards your chest. Bashfully, you trail a hand from his hair to trace the moving divots in his back, prominent muscles flexing at your featherlight touch. The other rests securely on his shoulder, simultaneously grounding you and tethering you to him while you indulge yourself in your boyfriend's physique.

You gnaw at your lower lip, enraptured by him before a wet softness on your tit startles you out of your revery. At your gasp, he breathes a laugh against your chest, lavishing your breast in sloppy affection. The other is engulfed in his big, warm hand, his calloused fingertips tweaking at your nip and sending shivers down your spine.

"Shit, Miri," You breathe slowly, heart racing while your body starts to burn from his touch. He hums in acknowledgement around your nipple, the sensation zipping straight to your core, and you squeak. Mirio feels you abruptly clench your thighs under him, and he hums again, this time in glee of his findings.

He moves his mouth to your other breast, lathering it in the same attention, and leaving you feeling just as light headed with his sucks and tonguing and nips. You scratch lightly down the muscular plane of his back, from the base of his neck to as far as you can reach, and he moans.

You fluster at the sound, breath hitching in your throat. Again, you want him to make that sound again. When you repeat the motion, he does, and it has you throbbing.

You take a moment to swallow your pride, mind hazed by arousal and the innate need to return the feeling he bestows upon you, "God, Mirio," you let out a shuddered breath, "you..-you sound so good."

You're almost surprised when he quietly cusses against you, clearly taken by the looming throes of passion. When he pushes himself up, he's almost panting.

"Can I taste you, baby?" He urges in a hushed whisper, pleading, "can I touch you some more? God, I-I need it, [name]. I gotta taste you, wanna feel you on my tongue--please? Will you let me?" He sweetens the deal by pressing his flushed, wet lips across your tummy, big blue begging eyes latched onto your face in earnest.

God, how could you say no to that face?

With a quiet nod and a whisper of consent, he beams from the space between your legs.

Eager, he shuffles down and slips his thick fingers into the waist band of your underwear, tugging it down past your thighs and sitting up to reverently bend each leg and help you out of them.

He kisses your calves when he does so, and your core tingles in delight at the adoring sensation.

Mirio lays on his front, propping one of your knees over a broad shoulder to give him more room to taste you. His breath pans across your plush skin, and you become alarmingly aware of where he is.

You can feel yourself clenching before he's even touched you, and you swallow a humiliated whine at the prospect of him knowing.

Self conscious, you squeeze him between your thighs and he chuckles. He runs a warm hand up your leg and squeezes your hip, "you're okay, just wanna taste, yeah?"

You take in a sharp breath and nod, heart thundering as he draws closer to your core. The moment his lips touch you, you panic--embarrassment flooding you.

"Wait--shit!"

As though reading your mind, his grip turns into an iron latch on your hips, forcibly stilling you as you jerk and try to squirm up the bed. He draws a wet stripe up your slit, tasting your arousal, and he groans.

Within moments, your soaking his chin and gripping the pillow under you to stay in control of yourself. He's clumsy, evidence of his inexperience, but excited; tonguing your slit and swallowing your juices, eating almost more for his pleasure than for yours.

With a jagged gasp, you reach a hand down to him, caressing his temple and shakily guiding him to where it feels good the most. Mirio takes your cue and licks around, eyeing you until you jolt again when he swipes over your clit. In an instant, he latches on, sucking and drooling and licking at it.

It's hard to breathe--lightning pleasure striking you.

He lets go of your hip, using a hand to ease a thick finger into you as he kisses around your thighs. You tense at the feeling, "feels weird..." and you can feel yourself clenching, body adjusting to the intrusion.

Your fingers never felt like this, though yours are smaller in comparison. Or maybe it's because it's him? The foreign sensation of another's touch shocking your senses.

Then he starts licking you again, finger curling upwards and thrusting softly--and you almost shout.

He makes you cum twice.

One, to help ease in more of his fingers, and another, to prepare you for something else.

After peppering your lower half in kisses and crawling back up to meet you with a goofy, lovedrunk grin, he quietly shushes you and bats your hand away when you reach down to please him.

"Next time, baby," your heart flutters at the promise of it. Mirio's cheeks dimple in company of his bashful smile, "I don't know if I'll be able to last."

He reaches over to the bedside table, tearing a square sachet attractively with his teeth and slipping on a condom before he notches his tip against your clit. You lift your hips to help angle him in.

It takes a few awkward bumps and a tension breaking snicker between you both before he starts nudging into you, and you take in a sharp breath in anticipation of the stretch.

"Ooh, Miri," you wince, and he quickly pasues, lathering you in attention.

"Am I too much? S-Should I pull out?"

You exhale slowly, blinking as you bring your hazy mind into focus.

"No! No," a soft sigh leaves your lips as your body adjusts to his size, "just... keep going slow, mkay?"

He continues at your assurance, watching and listening to you carefully for anymore signs of discomfort. Mirio swallows a whine in his throat, adams apple bobbing with the effort, at the feeling of your hot, fleshy walls struggling to swallow him all.

Despite your mild struggle, a small puddle leaks into the sheets beneath you.

Within moments, Mirio's hips are pressed flush against yours, soon after beginning to gently rock into you before progressing into deep thrusts.

He hovers over you, shielding you with his large form while your legs tighten around his trim waist. He babbles almost mindlessly to you, expressions of love and praise falling from his lips as he pushes his girth in and out.

A filthy plap, plap, plap accompanies the sound of both of your puffed breaths and wanton moans.

You could almost feel embarrassed at the noise if your thoughts were not already turned to mush.

The feeling of his throbbing cock squelching in your depths leaves you heaving for breath. God, he just fills you up.

Getting to this point had taken time, and a lot of effort and patience on both ends for him to be able to easily thrust into you--fuck, it was all worth it.

"Ngh..! Mmh, a-ah, ah..!"

Hands clutching at his shoulders and clawing his back, fingers digging into the dips of his muscles as he pants and moans into your neck; stars speckle your sight when the tingly coil tightening in your belly snaps.

You had anticipated your climax, having felt it build and build and build--but it floods through you nonetheless, like a rope splintering before it rips.

Mirio feels your body tensing, furthermore, he can feel your slick hole clenching and unclenching, twitching rapidly before it clamps down on him--sucking him in a wet, plush chasm that hurdles him towards his own end.

"I-I'm--Nhg~..! A-Ah..!"

You whine softly, weakly pushing at a broad shoulder, "M-Miri..."

"Ooh~...O-Oh," He groans before tenderly pulling out and rolling off of you, having nearly lost his strength while he got lost in you, "sorry... Are you okay?"

"Mhm," You hum softly, dreary and in bliss. Missing the weight of him despite having pushed him off, you use the last of your energy to heave one of his beefy arms over you, snuggling into him in all your nakedness.

A yawn escapes you, feeling oddly fatigued, "...'nd you?"

"Me?" He blinks, "oh, y-yeah, yeah! I'm great. So--so great." His hair is messy and his face is flushed. You snicker, paying no mind to the heat creeping up your neck as you lay by him.

"...feel good."

"Yeah, baby?" Mirio breathes a laugh, kissing your head while he tightens his arm around you, bringing you closer. "Should probably get cleaned up, lovely."

You shake your head against him, "not yet... 'm not ready yet."

He hums softly, "Okay. Later then," his own eyes begin to feel heavy, but he can't find himself to take them off of you. "I love you~..."

And he can feel you smile against his skin, "I love you too, Miri..."

"Cursed!?" You cry out in horror, "I'm cursed!?"

"Not cursed, dear one," The sweet old lady hums, swishing around your cup of left over tea leaves, "just marked."

"Oh, oh good," You feign relief, "so I'm a target."

"Oh hush you," The tea reader swats you over the head, "you fret too much. Besides, there's more I've yet to see..."

You grumble to yourself under your breath, rubbing your sore spot with a pout before sitting and waiting for the rest of her verdict. The woman hums lowly, a content smile on her delicate old features as she keeps her eyes trained on the semi-warm yunomi cup in her hands.

"Ooh, would you look at that," She hums happily, "a crescent star--how wonderful. You will have an unusually large fortune happen upon you..." she swishes the cup once more, "and... ah! And these are... indeed! Health and happiness shall befall you! Though beware, a great sacrifice must you omit in your coming days for this to be achieved."

You sigh to yourself quietly, smiling softly with a shake of your head, "Thank you, grandma."

You place a small pouch of coins atop her tattered, velvet cloth table as you move to stand.

"Ah, ah, ah!" She tuts, eyes wide as she stares at your tea leaves, "my child... I see that someone has their eye on you; beware of whom it is that you trust, deary. Not all things are as they seem..."

You feel a shiver crawl up your spine, and you squeak; you feel your soul levitate.

You gain a cold sweat, "T-Thanks, granny..."

"It's no problem, child!" The old lady beams, positively ignorant of your terror, "come back anytime. It's always such a joy to read for you..."

"Aha, yes. I-I'm sure..." You wince, smile strained, "um... goodnight, granny."

"Goodnight, dear one!"

You're quick to leave the quaint tea shop, placid smile immediately dropping into one of panic. Ever since you'd gone up that stupid magical mountain or whatever, you'd felt these odd shivers down your spine, like someone was watching you.

Constantly.

Or, nearly constantly. It usually stopped when you got to your house--at least this stalker had some decency. 

It certainly didn't help that there was an apparent raid being planned on your village, an attack that you'd all been warned about by an anonymous.

It was a curse of sorts, unleashed by an old enemy of your land's beloved Archon, Rex Lapis. The main city of Liyue is only small at this time, and the adepti, each to their own, have additionally been busy with protecting the various other scattered villages around the land.

You were given fourteen days to figure out a solution. 

Now, there's only three left. 

You shudder, once again feeling a pair of eyes glaring into you from archons knows where, and you let out an angsty huff, crossing your arms over yourself. 

"Great," You crinkle your nose, "now I'm even more paranoid." 

"A WHAT!?" 

Ah, what a wonderful start to the morning, with two days left before the presumed attack. 

The whole village gathers with murmurs of concern, pity, and fear.

In seeing no other way to prevent the attack, the town elder had announced a last resort solution, as provided with help from the adepti.

A sacrifice is to be made and sent to the stone mountains where it is told that their Great Lord and his dragon reside. A sacrifice must be made to their Archon in exchange for protection from the oncoming curse.

And with consultation from Adeptis Cloud Retainer and Moon Carver, you were chosen to be the offered one. 

"You want me to be a WHAT!?" Your eyes practically bulge from your head, and a panic rushes through you, thoughts spiralling as your heart tightens painfully in your chest.

Your outburst garnered further chatter from the rest of the town, some shouting their concern for you, others in protest of the decision made--but ultimately, it wasn't up to them.

The adepti themselves had chosen. 

Your ears rang with a high pitch, gaze hazy as you grew dizzy, struggling to breathe.

You couldn't hear what anyone else was saying--and quite frankly, you didn't want to, nor did you care.

A further immense feeling of fright pierced through you, causing your knees to buckle. It was those eyes again. 

'Dear archons,' You thought to yourself fearfully, 'am I going to die?'

The next forty-eight hours went by too fast, consisting of preparation for your departure, where a group of villagers would later escort you to the mountains and present you at its base before returning home.

And where you would be left alone, alongside barrels of fruit and meat offerings, and baskets of their finest silk and gold.

Then, it would be up to their Great Lord to make the decision. 

And so there you had been, fearful and adorned in opaque silks and fine threads, arms and legs decorated with pretty golden jewellery for an extravagent yet elegant appeal.

Your heart stuttered painfully in your chest, breath uncomfortably stuck in your throat as paranoia and terror consume you simultaneously. The feeling of eyes being burnt into your form had never left, and they had never felt so intense until then.

Staring at the mountain base with your back to the open field behind you, you felt your very soul ice over as a dark shadow swallowed you. You hadn't dared to look back, eyes wide with your skin pricked, breath stagnant as your base most instincts went wild; run.

But you felt you were dead before it had even approached.

You don't remember anything from that point on, only recalling a behemoth silhouette drowning yours before everything went silent and dark.

You had fainted.

But freedom! You cry in your mind, finding yourself awake inside a palace worthy bedchamber. You weren't eaten! Yay! CELEBRATE FOOL.

You notice a soft quilt upon you, its fabric smooth to the touch. Your hands tremble ever so slightly, nerves recovering from being shot. You swallow thickly, unsure of what to expect as you observe your surroundings.

The room is heavenly. Much grander than even the nobles in the nearest city, the room is vast and elegant, with artworks and calligraphy engraved into the stone walls. Cor lapis illuminates it all, along with the plentiful golden intricacies.

An elaborate archway to your left is separated from your room by a semi-sheer curtain, and you can hear the ever so soothing tinkling of water. A bathroom.

Placed along that same wall is a beautiful vanity and smaller archway separated similarly to the other. You can spy a more than generous number of hanging fabrics and neat, polished crates--a wardrobe.

The opposite side of the room displays practically half a library. Gorgeous bookshelves line the walls with ornate pillars and decorative foliage, a grand desk situated nearby with an equally as exquisite chair. The floor is covered by a soft carpet, accompanied by various cosy and inhumanely large pillows.

Nevermind, you must have been eaten, because this looks like heaven.

Mouth agape in bewilderment and disbelief, you slowly slip out from beneath the covers, tip toeing along the cool flooring into the middle of the room.

Your eyes graze over everything, and you're tempted to throw yourself indulgently into the giant pile of pillows just begging to be laid on.

Yet you restrain yourself because where the hell are you.

The large door across from you looks promising.

It takes a good hard push from you before it opens, though once it does the doors part for you effortlessly on their own. You pause, peeking out into the hallway skeptically before actually stepping out.

The door shuts quietly by itself one you're out of its way.

Interesting.

The corridor itself is daunting, both in size and extravagence. One side leads to an archway concealed by a thick red curtain, whilst the other reveals an opening into what appears to be a sun room.

Well, that looks promising.

Like everything else, the area is expansive and elegant. Sunlight bathes everything in a soft, golden glow, and water trickles pleasingly from ornate divets in the high stone walls, following a painstakingly carved path down into a rivet in the ground that outlines the floor plan.

Looking up into the high ceiling, your mouth drops in awe at the crystal clear glass encasing. In an octagonal, dome shape, the largest panes showcase stained glass designs, threading rainbow highlights here and there.

Thriving vines decorate the roofs edge, neatly climbing down the walls and curling around the spaced pillars that hold it all together. The plantation has been carefully placed as to not obstuct or corrode the ornate architecture.

In the centre of the room is a mound of silks and pillows with gold trims and intricacies, a large serpentine figure curled atop the delicate fabrics gracefully as it slumbers.

What.

Pause.

A dragon.

A fucking dragon.

Morax, Rex Lapis' dragon.

And you know it's Rex Lapis' dragon because who fucking else would have a dragon.

Your mouth drops in absolute horror at what you've stumbled upon, and you start to backtrack in silent terror when the slumbering creature begins to shuffle.

You internally curse yourself as the thing emits a sleepy grumble that vibrates the floor before locking eyes with you.

It blinks drearily, lazily yawning and smacking its maws before learning towards you with lidded amber eyes and a grounding purr.

You've been frozen in utter fear for the entirety of its slow awakening, and it huffs warm air into your wide eyed face once its levelled with you.

You let out a frightened squeak, blinking rapidly to recover from the assault while the serpentine creature rumbles contently. It looks... entirely unbothered by your presence.

You can't quite tell what it's thinking, its eyes watching you ever so intently, yet with a peculiar fondness that has you puzzled.

"He.. Hello, dragon," Your voice cracks, and you take a hasty bow to make up for it, "uh! Morax. Um, am I... aren't I suppose to be, uh, eaten..?"

Morax blinks at you cluelessly.

"As, uh, in sacrifice?"

The dragon huffs at you again, though this time much more sharply, as though offended. An odd keen gets stuck in its throat as it tilts its head before shaking out its mane.

Then, Morax leans towards you again with a grumbling coo, as though attempting to soothe you before nudging its large muzzle at your chest.

You stumble back from the unexpected contact, but the being only prods at you again until you gently guide its nose away with both hands. It retreats back into the rest of its curled form, watching you expectantly.

You reach a hand to where Morax had been poking, touching the thick cor lapis pendant situated on your chest in the shape of the geo symbol, secured by a deceivingly delicate looking gold chain.

"Oh this?" You look down at it from your awkward angle, "is something wrong with it?"

Morax lets out a curt grumble, not in warning or any form of vexation, but as a sort of prompt. Not quite.

You furrow your brows, "Then... does it mean something?"

Its grumbles again. Closer.

Your mind blanks, and you stare back at the beast that just blinks at you slowly. It makes no more sounds to edge you forwards, nor anymore mortion to aid your thinking. Instead, it watches you patiently, expectantly. Fondly.

"...You wanna... you wanna tell me?"

Your features flatten when the dragon emits an exaggerated yawn, crossing its massive paws and laying its head down upon them.

"Oh, you've got an attitude, you know," You frown at the mythical thing, and it closes its eyes teasingly in cheek.

You look at your pendant again. It had been provided by the Adeptis, and passed onto the village chief for when the chosen had been annouced. Then it was later given to you at the end of all your preparations, and you've been wearing it since.

Funnily enough, your preparations were similar to those of your wedding traditions--the older women fussing over your appearance while the men gathered gold and jewels to toss and offer up in symbolizing a rich, fruitiful future for the beweddeds.

The pendant is a similar heirloom typically passed from the more forthright intended to their beloved, as a way to show both their devotion, and their will to provide and protect.

The heirloom is usually something that represents the family from which it is given, as the receiver takes on their last name.

But your pendant is the geo symbol, your Archon's insignia.

Holy freaking shit you're wearing your Archon's insignia and it's not a vision.

Your stomach drops.

"O-Oh my god!" The pendant drops back into place on your chest, and you stare wide eyed at the serpent that daringly matches your panicked gaze, "I-I'm our Lord's intended!?"

"You're my one true friend Morax. But don't tell anyone I said that, that's kinda sad."

You distractedly scrub the dragon's scales by his neck, having moved on from his claws. You're dressed in thin bathing silks that cling to your figure from the water, parts of the fabric sheer upon your skin. You're not bothered though, it's only you and the dragon in this huge manor.

For the week or so that you've spent here, you've seen neither hide nor hair of your dear Archon. One part of you is curious as to why, seeing as this is his abode, though the other shudders at the prospect of running into him in person. You're still not mentally prepared for that.

You don't know how to talk to a god! Let alone how to your god--and that's not even mentioning the fact that you're technically supposed to be married to him.

Yeah. You've figured it out now.

No, you had not been sentenced to your death. No pain or any form of violence has been inflicted since your arrival, unless you want to count the dragon tormenting you with the fluff of its tail.

Stupid dragon.

Speaking of the damned creature, you've taken solace in its company. Although non-human, the dragon is a sentient being of its own, and though large and very much built for battle, Morax has been nothing but patient and gentle.

Ever so aware of your smaller being, the dragon has been careful with its every motion, bending its languid body elegently and fluidly to accomidate you. Even in a playful mood, Morax takes great care not to jostle you or startle you so.

You've claimed the overgrown reptile as your best friend in claws!

Morax had preened at the proclamation.

"Has our Lord been taking care of you? I haven't seen him once since I've been here. Do you think I've scared him off?" You snicker, wringing out the soaked cloth in the floral water you're seeping in, "ah, yes. As I am everything he should fear in a spouse. A merciless tongue and a non-existent sleep schedule."

In the furthest depths of this absolutely insanely huge manor, palace or whatever, is an opening in what you presume to be the back of the mountain.

Walls opening into a magnificent waterscape with a lazy lake and picturesque waterfalls, vines and flowers and brush decorating the scene with giant trees overshading parts of the water.

Morax snorts at your accusations, nostrils puffing non-aggravated smoke.

You move on to delicately rinsing the dragon's mane in parts, fingers sifting through the long, smooth fur to untangle any knots.

"Is he kind?"

From its once sleep tempted state, the beast perks up, opening its eyes to gaze at you. Sensing Morax's confusion, you give a tender smile while you brush a hand through its mane and over its scales.

"My betrothed, our Lord," The dragon croons softly, leaning its massive head down to rest its chin on your lap as you chuckle bashfully, "only you and the adepti know what he's really like. When he's not attending his duties, I mean."

You swallow thickly, worry glazing your eyes before being swiftly masked by a ginger smile as Moraz nudges you.

"I just... to be wedded to our Lord is just a fantasy. Who could I ever amass to in comparison to our Archon? I... don't think he will be cruel. But," Your eyes flutter to the side unsurely, "I don't want to live a lie."

Your heart pangs in your chest, and you slow in your movements which begin to cease. The water ripples around you at each notion, the air still and serene. Yet, despite the peace, you feel burdened.

No, not burdened.

Your brows crease in thought.

Perhaps dejected.

Although you have yet to meet, you've been provided with an abundance of wealth. It's evident your Lord is the spoiling type.

Your room is just one example, full of things you love and could lose yourself in for hours, alongside a wardrobe full of clothes you could only ever have previously dreamed of.

And you have the entire mountain to explore to entertain yourself--and it's not as though you were trapped.

You've gone flying with Morax twice now, and further explored the wilderness surrounding with the dragon's protective supervision. If you so truly wished, you could leave these hidden chambers to go elsewhere. To be honest though, you don't trust yourself to be able to find your way back.

The food is plentiful. Visiting the kitchens each morning and night, you find a feast is laden. And during the mid-day when you're hungry, or the late hours when you're peckish, the pantries are stocked in abundance.

A warm breeze caresses your shoulders, and the sound of the water trinkling melodically echoes a tranquil tune.

Morax purrs at you, and your smile saddens as you speak a dismal truth, "I will forever worship our Lord, not just for what he has provided me, but for him in all his existence. Though I admit, my heart will carry the dual burden of heartache."

The dragon blinks at you slowly, before reeling back in all its grace with a low croon. Its eyes are lidded, looking down at you in fondness and something else you can't quite place.

You puff a breathy laugh, reaching up a hand to cup the scales on its cheek. Despite the comically drastic size difference, the mystic being leans into your touch with a rumble.

"Thank you, Morax," You murmur, awed, "but I could ask nothing more from our dearest Archon who has given so much already. I only pray that someday he will find the one with whom he can truly return their affections."

A disgruntled huff escapes from the amber dragon's maw, and it shakes its head before leaning down to carefully press its horned head against yours.

A smile traces your lips, sincere gratitude oozing from your being as your eyes slip shut, nuzzling back against the smooth and damp scales of your mythical friend.

Another kind brush of air kisses your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. From behind your eyelids, a bright flash of light is muted, though you pass it off as naught.

Suddenly though, the scales you had cupped fit much better in your palm, a sensation much softer gracing your fingertips. Your brows furrow slightly as you feel the weight of the dragon's physical presence decrease. The water around you ripples greatly, though the atmosphere itself remains undisturbed.

The winds swoop gracefully as always, musical water cascades still singing their dream inducing tinkles while the scent of the surrounding natural flora soothes you.

You hear a gentle rumble, though much softer than the dragon before you. Your eyes gradually open, slinking up to lock onto the ethereal man leant into your loving caress.

Your gaze drifts to his nose, and then his lips, observing his attire that consists of layers of intricate brown and golden silks that float atop the water's surface.

And then you gasp, meeting eternally wise amber orbs that stare into yours knowingly.

Your muscles tense and your stomach drops, and you stumble back, almost tripping in the water.

At your sudden lurch in movement, the devastatingly handsome man fixes his arms around you, a gavelly chuckle sending a flush of heat to the tips of your ears as he pulls you flush against him.

"Y-You! I--" Embarrassment in all its forms overwhelms you while your beloved Lord himself stares down at you with lidded eyes, exuding elegance and unwavering strength just as he stands.

You don't dare look him in the eye, gaze latched shamefully onto the intricate details laced on the garment covering his chest. Your shame only increases once you notice the opening in the fabric that reveals part of his chest.

"M-My Lord..!"

Humiliation causes tears to prick at your eyes painfully.

But the dragon--his dragon, he is the dragon!

Heavens above, how utterly foolish could you be!?

Weeks you have spent confiding and bumbling about with that damned beast had you spilling the deepest depths of your heart and innermost being.

You would have never behaved in such a trecherous manner had you known it was your Lord! How disgusted he must be with you. How offended he must feel for the ignorant things you have speeled!

You clench your eyes shut, almost trembling in his grasp.

"My.. My most sincerest apologies, Lord Rex Lapis. I-I must avow that for each word I have spoken I never did intend-"

"Whatever do you mean, my love?" His voice is warm and low, a pleasant gravel that slinks into your ears like honey.

Rex Lapis--Morax, your very Archon who is one in the same, pulls himself back to admire you with fond eyes. Though his gaze is ever intense, the emotion he expresses is more than palpable.

His touch is tender, careful but full of longing, "Perish such nonsense from your mind. I, apologise, dear one," He leans down hopefully to meet your gaze, "for startling you so. And for withholding my true self for so long."

You flutter your eyes open, swallowing shakily when he smiles at you oh so adoringly.

"To be honest, I was... nervous. Unsure as to how you would perceive me."

"You? Nervous?" You incredulous tone has him breathe out a laugh.

"Indeed, dearest," You flush at the endearment, able to process it past your panic this time, "it is not everyday you are intended to a God. Now though, I see I should have been the one to welcome you first and foremost."

In contrast to his gentle touches and patient tone, a familiar cheeky twinkle sparkles in his eyes, "To think you thought you were a meat offering."

You blink up at him, horridly aghast at the mention of your initial misgrievances.

Forgetting your prior reservations about him as your Lord, no longer heeding your behaviour to such, you recognise that mischevious glint just as on the first day you had arrived.

A sense of relief floods your being, and you gradually untense in his tender grasp.

Though you're still unwilling to let him off unscathed.

"Who's the one who had me snatched up on such short notice?"

A sense of sheepishness has him ducking his head in self awareness, nodding acceptingly and in apology. A pink tint lines his fair cheeks at that.

But then he glances down at your drenched attire, and his flush deepens as a desire much too long forgone has him turning up his cheek a little more than he normally would.

"Well," He clears his throat distractedly, "who wouldn't at such a delightful temptation, hm?"

And then it's your turn to feel flushed.

Although he had left you lonesome in you first few weeks of stay, he more than made up for it in the coming nights.

And in response to your apprehensions and concern in being wedded to a God, he addressed them directly by providing you with an adoring reverence than even celestia would envy.

And he continued to do so, for the many years that would come.

For he had chosen you; his one and true beloved.

You know a lot about Mirio Togata.

Not in a creepy way, he's a very open person.

Everyone knows him, except probably only some of the first years since they're new. But most people do.

He's pretty loud, and a bit boisterous when he gets carried away, but he's friendly. People say hi to him all the time even if they're nowhere near him in his classes. Especially being part of the Big Three, some people go out of their way to find him.

He doesn't seem to mind though, and if he is busy he'll kindly wave them off after a few words.

It doesn't hurt that he's a looker too. It's easy to see why he's popular.

You didn't know a lot about him at first though, particularly since being a transfer in the last quarter of your second year.

And you didn't learn more about him until the start of your third year, when you were put in the same class as him in 3-B.

While you sat in the middle of the class quietly, Mirio would actively engage in all class activities. He often spoke up during lessons, unafraid of getting an answer wrong in front of everyone--not that anyone would care.

He actively sought to better himself at all times.

You learned he was actually very self-disciplined too, keeping to a strict but balanced diet with a healthy workout and training schedule.

Though you noticed he did give in to a nice sugary treat every once and a while.

He loves his sodas.

And his carbs. He eats all of the melon bread in the common rooms.

You were often in vicinity when he had his zoomies--that's what you call them at least. Usually it's during class training and he gets competitive; a wide, unwavering smile and unblinking cobalt blue eyes pierce your very being before he pummels his opponent.

He never holds back. But he's also unaware of his own strength.

He's kind of scary then.

You were a first hand witness to his kindess.

You'd never really talked to him before since the end of year exams when you first arrived were hectic for everyone, and it just got busy for third years really quickly.

It was then that he approached you though, after class when the lunch bell had rung out, he called your last name as though you two were familiar. You had turned to look at him, and his approach would have been intimidating if not for his beaming smile and everything you'd observed of him beforehand.

"[last name]! Hey," Togata had walked up to your desk with a friendly wave, "you looked super cool in training today! Wanna catch up over lunch?"

That's when you learned that he was your soulmate too.

"[name]-san!" Another classmate of yours had barrelled into your side, "we have a meeting with Toko-chan and Midnight by the courtyard!"

'Ah, right,' You thought to yourself distractedly, mindful of the tingling sensation up the vertical of your left side.

"Sorry, Togata-san," Your classmate gave the tall blond a guilty look.

The other waved it off happily, "Nah, don't worry about it!" Then he'd turned back to you before you were pulled away.

"Next time, yeah?"

Only there wasn't a next time.

Well, actually, there kind of was. But not really.

Immediately after your encounter you had later gone to the general department to request a change in your costume design.

On the way there you had encountered another one of the Big Three, Nejire Hado. You bowed politely in passing and then startled when she'd let out a dramatic gasp, cooing and complimenting you on your moves in training.

Hm, it seems you really must have looked cool that day.

Because after that she kept bumping into you in corridors, sometimes by herself and sometimes accompanied by the last member of the Big Three, Tamaki Amajiki, while they were waiting for Mirio.

Again, you'd always bow politely and side step them, only to be bombarded by Hado-san's needless praise and untamed bouncy energy.

She kind of scared you at first too.

But she's really nice.

Eventually, she'd managed to rope you into some mundane pleasantries, the "how are yous" and such. Then it was some passing conversations like, "how was your class?" or "what are you getting for lunch today?" Before finally sinking her fangs into you and dragging you along for her giggly, day to day antics.

You were weary each time, knowing how close she is with Togata-san.

Plus, sitting with the Big Three sounds daunting...

Not that she really gave you a choice--one day plucking you fresh from the lunch line and sitting you beside her while Amajiki-san and Togata-san sat opposite.

"Hey guys!" Nejire-san beamed, "this is my new friend I've been talking about!"

She wrapped an arm around you and gave you a tight squeeze.

"Oh, [last name]! Hey, yeah! We have the same class," Mirio beamed, recognising you instantaneously. You'd nodded slowly, giving him a gentle wave and polite smile.

"They're shy~" Nejire-san giggled excitedly, squishing you to her side like a teddy bear.

You'd noticed Amajiki-san with his head down silently, quivering in his seat. He had looked up at you briefly, glancing at the other two and squeaking out a hi before he resumed his anxious shaking.

You'd felt you could relate to him spiritually.

Since then, Nejire-san would kidnap you from the lunch line at least twice a week to sit with her and the other two.

Your weekly lunchtime hangouts led to the trio becoming more of a quartet with you involved. Togata-san had started walking with you to and from classes, occasionally accompanied by Nejire-san and Amajiki-san when your classes collaborated.

Unfortunately for them, you still didn't really talk much. The only one who heard you really talk was Nejire-san, and even then you only spoke very briefly.

She'd declared herself your best friend though, since having been privileged to hear your voice the most. Togata-san had pouted at that since he was the one who shared classes with you.

From then on, your silence no longer went by unnoticed.

Togata-san made much more of an effort to spend time with you alone, trying to get to know you more.

You'd panicked originally, skirting around him before eventually he became unavoidable. And you felt bad running away from him all the time.

So you started rooting yourself in place when he approached, walking beside him rather than in front of or behind him. You were still silent, but he grew to realise that's how you were over time.

It didn't deter him--he loved chatting at you, and would still engage in wild conversation with simple questions you could answer with either a shake or nod of your head.

He was incredibly considerate.

Besides, your lively expressions and wild hand motions were more than enough to convey what you were thinking.

He thought you were cute.

You thought Amajiki-san was right. Mirio really was the embodiment of the sun.

Vibrant, warm, uplifting, and in your face.

You weren't even a star, but more of a satellite. Blinking in and out of sight, it was hard to pinpoint, but everyone knew it was there.

They just didn't care.

What would you even make of a satellite, daring to dance around the sun?

"That reminds me," Nejire-san turns to you one day in a shared class, "where are your soul words, [name]?" Luckily it had been a study period, but it was more of a do-anything-except-study session.

You point at your left side casually.

"Ooh! Can I see?"

You flinch away violently.

"Mmf, n-not a good idea, Nejire..." Amajiki-san glances over at her, flustered at the prospect of you having to strip your top.

"Oh, right," She smiles sheepishly, "sorry."

"Have you met them yet?"

Togata-san's words cause you to freeze. You swallow cautiously, and you can feel your soul words itch. Slowly, your eyes trail from your blank exercise book up to your blond classmate seated in front of you.

You silently debate whether or not to answer, but ultimately conclude that it couldn't hurt.

You nod.

Togata takes in a deep, awed breath, eyes wide.

"Really?!" Nejire squeals beside you, and even Amajiki-san perks up, "you have!? Who is it?! Do they go to our school?! Do we know them!?"

You're quickly overwhelmed by her presence and bombardment of questions as she leans towards you excitedly. You struggle not to fall off your chair while she invades your space.

Eventually you just push her back with a hard tug on the collar of her blazer. You're eyes don't dare look at Togata-san and you distract yourself with fiddling through your stationary.

It wouldn't hurt to indulge them a bit, even if what you know will only ever be kept a fantasy.

With a plain ballpoint pen, you unhurriedly scribble a few words onto the no longer blank pages of your binder, ignoring the girl vibrating impatiently.

Once you're done, you push it towards the middle of the conjoined desks.

He's really nice.

"That's it!?" Nejire shrieks, "[name]...!"

You snicker at her.

"Aw, come on!" Togata-san chuckles light heartedly, "surely there's more than that, right?"

He looks at you expectantly, eyes glittering with interest at the idea of a soulmate. You feel a bitter sting in the depth of your chest, but you plaster on a ginger smile, pulling the book back towards you to write some more.

I like him a lot.

Amajiki-san lets out a small huff of laughter when Nejire lets out another undignified shriek at your lack of information.

"Hey, [last name]," You notice Togata-san's voice is a lot softer this time around--hesitant. You look at him invitingly when he still doesn't say anything.

He's looking at you with a slight furrow in his brows, thoughtfully.

It's unlike him to be so reluctant. But if Mirio Togata is anything, it's not inconsiderate, so you let him sort out his thoughts without any rush.

"Mirio?" Amajiki-san says carefully.

That seems to prompt him.

Togata-san's eyes don't stray from your form, locked on with an unusual firmness that the other two question silently.

"Does your soulmate know about you?"

The temperature around you drops, and your world goes silent.

Your unfocused eyes stare back at him--through him--and the burden you had oh so carefully tied back and decidedly forgotten about was suddenly weighing on you with no support other than a single webbed string.

You feel your soul words itch.

Your eyes dart away from him, and Nejire gasps softly.

"[last name]-san," You don't look at him, "why?"

A sudden, indiscriminant feeling of dread and foreboding pools like acid in your stomach. You have an inkling that he knows more than he's let on for a while.

You know a lot about Mirio Togata.

But in turn, Mirio Togata has learned a lot about you.

He's learnt that the sound of rain comforts you after he spotted you dozing to it in class and again, later, in the third year common rooms.

He's learnt that you prefer juice with lunch when there's rice, and flavoured milk when there's noodles so that you don't bloat because of the singular density of your meal.

He's noticed that you get disgruntled when you can't find a particular pen to take your math notes, and even more so when you have to use a different colour half way.

He's learnt that your nose twitches ever so slightly when you actively decide not to encourage him with his bad jokes. Though the downward tilt of your lips always betrays you.

He's picked up your few nervous ticks and the way your eyes gleam with polite interest whenever someone is talking to you, even if you don't care much for the topic.

He noticed the change in your costume from a loose top to a more form fitted, breathable fabric that covered you in a bodysuit.

He's learnt that you've become paranoid at the few wrinkles on your forehead that formed because of how expressive your eyes are.

He picked up on the butterflies in his chest one day after laughing loudly at one of his own jokes, watching you shake your head in amusement with a slight shake to your shoulders.

He learnt that he liked being in your silence.

But he also learned that your silence was for a purpose.

He's spotted you in idle conversation with others, mainly with the ones that you'd sit with aside from the Big Three.

Maybe you didn't laugh as much, but you at least talked to them.

He's seen you chat with some other classmates as well, though would mute yourself once he'd near.

Whenever your busy, Nejire fills him and Tamaki in on your conversations together. Tamaki had even chatted to you before, by himself! Albeit, it was for help on a subject, but it seemed everyone except him had heard your voice.

Or directly, anyway.

He'd heard your laughter in passing, and it made his cheeks flush and his chest flutter as a smile of his own grew on his lips.

He's listened to you from a distance, a few times when waiting for you to walk to class. Each time he'd find himself enraptured with the sound of your voice, he was sure that if you spoke, the world around you would simmer down just to hear you.

Never once have you talked to him directly.

It took him a while to give it some thought, but eventually, he'd turned some attention to his soul words, enscripted on the inside of his right bicep.

And though he was nervous, it made sense all the while.

Mirio Togata knows a lot about you.

And, although uncertain, he knows that there's a reason why you've been self silenced.

The pressure in your chest restricts your airways, and you find it a little harder to breathe. You feel your face grow hot in humiliation all the whilst while your eyes start to uncomfortably sting.

"Oh, [name]..." Nejire coos, her own features downcast at your sadness.

You stand up from your chair, for once uncaring about the obnoxious screech it creates against the polished floor, and motion at them politely to excuse your leave for a moment.

You're not oblivious to the way the two quickly turn to Mirio to hound him for some answers.

You step outside the classroom, letting the large door fall shut behind you, and head down the hall towards the stairwell. It's silent there, with the stairs between your floor and the lower one being exceptionally empty.

You only hear your own footsteps tip and tap quietly before taking seat in the middle of the steps. You position yourself to curl beside the inner railing.

Your heart feels heavy, and your most coherent thoughts escape you, leaving an empty shell that still causes tears to prick annoying in your listless gaze.

You sniffle once, not quite understanding what you're so upset about.

You put yourself in this position after all, you've been willing to stay silent. It's not like you cared much for the sound of your own voice anyway.

But right now, the silence seems stifling.

You don't like how you can't hear any of your thoughts. But you don't appreciate the noise your vacant sniffles make.

You like the sound of Togata-san's voice better.

Confident, and reassuring.

Warm.

You think you've taken that for granted.

You don't care to move at the sound of heavier footsteps echoing from the upper corridor, and you don't look when you sense its owner's large presence beside you.

You feel them sit down on the same steps as you.

You know who it is, at least you think you do--but you don't care to check. You can't tell if its because your scared or not. But why are you scared? Hm. You don't know the answer to that either.

You and Togata-san sit in silence for a little while, and this time around he lets it drag on. You can hear him shuffling every now and then.

You're not sure what compels you, but, perhaps it's because you don't like your silence this time.

"My soulmate..." You start slowly, voice quiet, timid. You refer back to his question before you left: 'why,' but you don't know where to start, "...is too good for me."

Simultaneously Mirio feels his heart flutter and break. Not wearing his blazer, he sees the words forever inked into his right bicep glow, the dark lettering in your pen flowing from black to a shimmering gold before the glow fades.

He feels it tingling delightfully within your vicinity.

In an instant, Togata-san has you wrapped up in his burly arms with his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his much larger build swallowing you.

Your eyes, still glassy, are wide and uncertain, arms tucked down by your knees awkwardly.

"Oh god," Togata-san's voice threatens to crack with his emotions, "it really is you..!"

Your heart thuds rapidly in your chest, and you can't tell if its fluttering or dropping.

"I've been waiting to hear your voice forever."

You crack.

"T-Togata-san..."

"Oh, baby," The endearment slips from his lips so easily, and he only pulls back enough to cradle your face delicately in his large hands, "I don't know what ever gave you that idea, but I've been wanting to hear you say those words for so long!"

His eyes crinkle at the corners in tandem with the tiny droplets held back by nothing but the sheer width of his smile.

"[name], you're my soulmate! My soulmate. My, soulmate," His sincerity only serves to draw you in more, "you're meant for me."

The blond leans his forehead against yours, lightly thumbing away the few tears that fall down your cheeks.

His smile softens, and he can't help but chuckle as he squishes your face teasingly, "And if you still don't believe it, how about I prove it to you, yeah?"

You return his endearment with a wobbly grin of your own, shakily placing your hands over his, and you nod.

He crunches his nose and tuts light heartedly.

"Words, please~"

You choke out a laugh, sniffling. Now that he's finally heard you, he won't let you go quiet again.

"Okay, Togata-san."

His eyes narrow as he lets go of your face, and he pouts.

"Togata-san?" He seems almost offended, "is that what you've been calling me all this time?"

You blink, eyes still a bit puffy from your tears.

"Mirio," He corrects, "call me Mirio."

You repeat after him, watching as a hot pink hue flushes over his nose and cheeks at the sound of his name from your lips. You almost feel embarassed from his reaction, but then he laughs giddily and squeezes you to his chest.

You know a lot about Mirio Togata.

And you should--he's your soulmate after all.

You know that he eats all of the melon bread in the dormitory, but hides one away to be found by you.

You know that he somehow almost forgets his red school tie every morning, so you've take to stopping him before heading to class to tie it under his shirt collar. You also know that he's started 'forgetting' a lot more recently just to have you touch up on him in the mornings.

You picked up on his penchant for praise, particularly when coming from you. He always perks up at the sound of your voice, but he positively radiates at any of your compliments.

You've noticed his zoomies have frequented outside of class training. When once he'd stretch and cool off, he bound over to you and shower you with positive critics toward your efforts, subconsciously tailing you when it was time to head off.

You know he gets a certain glint in his eyes when he plans on playing up. His eyes sharpen a split second before he schools his features into an innocent look of passivity, lulling you into a false sense of security before he strikes with a cackle.

You also know he likes to show off for you, as subtle as he thinks he's being.

You know that when he's lost in thought, he used to cross his arms and rub his chin. Now though, he crosses his arms and thumbs over the golden inked words enscripted onto his bicep.

You know a lot about Mirio Togata.

And in turn, Mirio Togata knows a lot about you.

He knows that you're quiet by nature, but chatty when you're in the right company. He makes sure to ask all the right questions to keep you talking.

He knows that you adore the skin serum he bought you (courtesy of Nejire's input) to help put your forehead wrinkle paranoia at ease. He loves watching you wind down in the evenings, watching you do your skin routine as you spend the last few remnants of the day together.

He loves it even more so when you invovle him in said routine.

He knows what you like to order at that cafe a few blocks down, but that you're always conflicted on whether to try something new or to stick to what you know you like since your visits are few and far between.

He's taken to ordering your usual while you ask for something new, so that way you get both.

He knows that you get shy over his blatant shows of affection, but love the fluttery feeling that it gives you.

He knows that you still prefer listening to him prattle on, and so he doesn't mind when you go quiet in the middle of your conversations to pay him your undivided attention. He can't help but blush when you let out an unrestrained laugh at something stupid he says.

Mirio loves being in your silence, but he loves the sound of your voice a lot more.

Perhaps, getting caught in the sun wasn't so bad after all.