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kaeyas-beloved · 1 year ago

Text

a moment too late

Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli

— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...

CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name

val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist

I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....

Thinking about them not making it in time...

Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.

He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."

When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.

When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.

It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.

There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.

It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."

He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.

"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.

"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.

The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."

The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.

The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.

His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.

What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?

You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.

He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.

Silence.

"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.

The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.

For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.

For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.

That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.

———

Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.

It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?

Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.

When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.

By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.

With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.

In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.

“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.

“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.

The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.

The gods weren't in his favour.

Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.

The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.

He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.

It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.

"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.

The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.

Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.

And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.

You were alive, but at what cost?

———

Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.

Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.

The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.

Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”

A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.

Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.

Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.

At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.

He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.

And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.

"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.

The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?

His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.

Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.

He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.

When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.

From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.

It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.

———

Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.

The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?

Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.

As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.

How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?

The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.

Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.

It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.

You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.

You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.

So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.

But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.

———

Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.

By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.

Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.

"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.

You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."

Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.

There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.

They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.

Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."

His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"

Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”

He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."

You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.

It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"

There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.

The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.

One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.

"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.

You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.

Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?

Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.

Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.

Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.

You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.

So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.

From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.

"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."

It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.

———

Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.

It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.

It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.

Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.

Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.

The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"

When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.

"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."

The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"

“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”

The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.

Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."

Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.

"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."

"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.

All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"

He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.

Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.

"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"

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augustinewrites · 10 months ago

Text

cw: pregnancy

“when you said we were sneaking out to go for a ride, i didn't think you meant that,” you sigh, breathless but content as you slump against your husband’s chest.

“deep breaths, darling,” diluc encourages, fingertips brushing down your spine. it makes him think of before, of juvenile fumbling and embarrassment. he’s much less chaste now. confident in his touches and his ability to please you. “why let the horses have all the fun?”

“you’ve been spending too much time with kaeya,” you grumble.

“i agree. it’s why i had to sneak away from his party with you.”

“your party,” you correct, letting him twine your fingers with yours. just like he had earlier, when he’d convinced you to sneak out of the surprise birthday party thrown in his honour. “the guests are likely looking for you.”

diluc’s used to being the center of attention. he doesn't necessarily enjoy it, but his day-to-day is filled with employees searching for his signature or potential clients seeking his participation on new ventures. as the king of the wine industry, he’s possibly the most in-demand person in mondstadt.

but their attention is nothing compared to yours. you’re his favourite person.

“you didn't even make it to the cake,” you add, shifting in his lap. “which means they'll be looking for us soon.”

he brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon your knuckles and making your heart flutter. “i've already had dessert.”

your face warms considerably against his skin as he chuckles, releasing your hand in favour of slowly smoothing his palm down your side, resting on your hip. he’s more than content to abandon his birthday party entirely in favour of being here in bed, watching the sunset over the fields of your home and bathing you both in golden light.

“well, it’s your birthday party,” you say softly. “even if your actual birthday is two days away, i still want you to have everything you could possibly want. and if what you want is to sneak away from your party to bed me so thoroughly, who am i to argue?”

his heart starts to thump so loudly in his chest that he fears you can hear it. he does want something else, an answer to a question that’s been stifled by shyness, fear, and uncertainty.

��and if i wanted…something else?”

your fingers trace idle patterns across his arm as you hum. “i’d do my best to give it to you.”

he knows you would. which is why he’s been waiting, making sure you want this just as much as he does.

“kaeya said something to me earlier,” he starts.

“please tell me this doesn't end with you hitting him.”

“of course not.” well, not this time. “he asked when i would make him an uncle.”

your movements pause, and diluc wonders if he'd messed up, if it was too soon–

you sit up immediately, grasping his shoulders. “he told you i was pregnant, didn't he? i knew adelaide wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. she’s been knitting baby socks since last week.”

wait.

“you’re–”

“i wanted it to be a surprise,” you deflate, a frown tugging on your pretty lips. “on your real birthday. adelinde was the only one i told, only because she’d caught me throwing up in the rose bush she’d just pruned and insisted i get checked…”

diluc’s hardly hearing you, your rambling slowing to a stop as he holds your face in his hands.

he needs to hear you say it.

“we’re having a baby?”

you place your hands atop his, nodding. “we’re having a baby, diluc.”

he presses his lips against yours, one firm kiss before he rests his forehead against yours. you are and will always be his favourite person, the only one who could give him a gift as special as this.

_____

BONUS:

“lavender bisque. whispering peach. sweet potato surprise…” adelinde murmurs, hunched over a few sheets of paper.

“what is that? is that the menu for tomorrow’s party?” kaeya asks, peeking over her shoulder.

adelinde sighs, shaking her head. “they're sample colours i had sent over for the nursery.”

“nursery?”

“yes–” the colour drains from the poor woman’s face as she realizes her slip. “oh dear!”

the realization takes a few moments to sink into the cavalry captain’s “my brother had sex?!”

for @mydiluc aka mrs diluc ragnvindr for listening to my endless rambles...and also diluc bday fic!!!

#diluc x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #diluc x you #genshin x you #f!reader

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chastiefoul · 1 year ago

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when he says "please."

ft. genshin characters

characters: neuvilette, wriothesley, diluc, xiao genre: fluff and a smidge of angst in diluc's. just a little one i promise!! a/n: will be making more from this prompt any character request perhaps??

neuvilette

he pulled you close, eager to be pressed against you after having to be away from you for hours because of work. you smiled at the proximity, the longing was in fact mutual. he eyed your lips so attentively; such delight after a hard day of labor, surely you’d grant him that? he leaned it and stopped an inch before your lips met his, his breath tickled your right cheek. “may i?” he whispered, if there’s a time where he’d stop asking permission to steal a kiss, it was not that day. and that fact made your stomach go all crazy. you indulged in his eagerness for a minute, teasing your lover who had the patience as wide as the sea. “...please?” he mumbled, sounding a little desperate. you put your arms around his neck, bringing him closer, pressing a sweet kiss on his lips. “i’m all yours, neuvilette.”

wriothesley

“should i remind you that this is still work hour and i needed to be out of this fortress like an hour ago?” you scolded him, yet it did nothing to the tightness of his grip around your waist as you went to get up from his lap. “baby you honestly had too much faith in me if you think i could resist letting you go when you came in all pretty like this to visit me,” he continued to rest his head on your shoulder, closing his eyes with no worry in the world. “wriothesley.” you sighed, your tone reprimanding. “five more minutes for the special meal from the coupon cafeteria?” he tried. “are you bribing me...?” you asked, fighting a smile that’s dangerously close to invading your lips. “is it working? i could throw something else in there, like three of sigewinne’s rare stickers maybe?” he asked playfully, planting kisses all over your cheek and you couldn’t hold the grin. “cute that you believe she gave the rare stickers to you.” you smiled mischievously, wriothesley’s face immediately understood the unsaid words. “no,” he said at the betrayal. “mhm, she gave me the full limited collection too so your bribe means nothing now,” you said, raising an eyebrow in challenge. he just chuckled, “figures.” you tried once more to get off his lap thinking that you caught him off guard but of course he didn’t budge. “wrio,” you whine. “five more minute. please baby, you can give me that at least, right? i’ll be good i promise.” he pleaded, and you rarely see him do that. you sighed, knowing you’re defeated way before he begged for you to stay. “five minutes it is.”

you end up staying there the whole day.

diluc

the life of an adventurer kept you busy, going to all sort of places and meet all kinds of creatures and that bounds to give you wounds and injury both physically and mentally. and of course diluc was the one to be concerned over you more than yourself. he never offered any complaints about the path you chose, as he gave you his full support instead. although a little part of his heart sometimes slipped away after seeing you home with another cut added to the barely healed skin from the wound before.

on a somewhat quiet night as he knelt in front of you as he tend to the injury on your knee he spoke, voice barely above a whisper. “can you try to be more careful?” he pressed the cotton on the wound with alcohol, earning a little hiss from your mouth. “i am being careful, you should see what happens to the other guy.” you smiled, offering a joke but when you didn’t see even an ounce of amusement on your lover’s face you know this time it’s serious. his hand stopped moving, he took a deep breath. “please, love. i can’t.. i don’t know if i can handle more of you falling into my arms out of exhaustion, and you’re barely conscious.” his voice incredibly weak, his eyes glassy as he gazed the floor. your heart felt like it’s being ripped into a new one as you saw him. you pulled him into his chest. “i’m sorry. diluc i’m sorry. i promise i’ll be more careful. no more taking commission until i’m fully healed. i’m sorry, love.” he just nodded, basking in your touch. as long as you come back to him alive and well, it’s all good.

xiao

“here comes a thought,” you said out of nowhere. xiao just hummed, letting you to proceed with the said thought as he’s sure it didn’t even matter what’s his response was. “you’re too demanding, at times,” you boldly claimed, as the sentence left him speechless. demanding? “how so?” he asked quietly, clearly bothered by what you said. “i was kidding. demanding isn’t the right word, it’s just, sometimes i wanna hear you say please, you know?” you reassured his doubt. xiao just stared at you blankly, face clearly telling you that he’s in fact does not know. “alright, that’s not a hard request.” he complied almost immediately. “okay, then say it?” you asked.

“now? but i am not currently asking for anything,” xiao said rationally, and that’s not what you’re looking for. “okay, pretend you’re asking for a kiss,” you said, smiling playfully, “what?!” the yaksha quickly became flustered. you took his hand, and he let you. “i’ll even give you one for real-“

“y/n, please.” he covered his face with his free hand, bashful beyond belief that he begged for you to stop talking because he’s not currently functioning properly. for someone who lived through two thousand years, he’s just not quite immune to your teasing and never will be, it seemed. you smiled happily, “that’s not so hard, was it?” xiao who just looked at you who’s all smiley just couldn’t help but mirror your expression with a little smile of his own.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin scenarios #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #xiao x reader #neuvilette x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #diluc x you #diluc x reader #xiao fluff #xiao x you

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kisskuni · 8 months ago

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“who did this to you?”

↳ he finds you injured / “who did this to you?” trope - [diluc, kaeya, wriothesley x gn!reader]

tags: injuries + mentions of blood/reader gets hurt. swearing. threats to kill people lol.

notes: wooo first genshin post.. i need to catch up on this game

diluc ━━━

the way adelinde stood outside of the winery, hands playing nervous with each other and shifting her weight, told diluc that something was wrong. his brows were pinned as he approached her.

“everything alright?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even and calm but there was a hint of worry underneath. something was wrong. something was definitely wrong.

adelinde cleared her throat before speaking, “y/n arrived about half an-”

diluc didn’t need to hear the rest. he moved past her and into the house, calling your name as he moved up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. he was already rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt; what exactly was wrong he didn't know, but he was more than willing to get his hands dirty.

he knocked on the door to your shared room only once before clicking the door open. there was a nurse next to the bed, but she wasn’t tending to you at the moment. she looked a little startled as he entered, but he paid her no mind.

he was kneeling at your bedside in a second. the nurse had taken a few steps back to give him space. he held your hand in his, his lips pressed against your knuckles.

“are you okay? what happened?” he asked, a little breathless, his eyes moving over you. there was a bandage wrapped around your abdomen, but he didn’t see any other injuries.

you nod and swallow dryly. “yeah… yeah ‘m alright.”

"bullshit." he mutters under his breath, eyes wandering over the wound. he wants to get a better look at it, but he knows the bandaging is fresh and he doesn't want to disturb it.

"i'll be fine, diluc... honest."

"who did this?" he asks, his voice suddenly a lot lower than before.

"...what?"

it almost startles you, the way small, almost unnoticeable flames flicker along the skin of diluc's forearms. his voice is calm, but strained, when he speaks, "who?"

"it was just some treasure hoarders, i'm-"

"where?"

"they're dealt with, diluc."

he stares at you for another few moments, eyes watching your face as if searching for some sort of sign that you were being dishonest. finally, he shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath, and opens them again. this time, when he speaks, his voice is much softer and caring than before.

"do you need anything?"

"i'm okay. some water, maybe?"

"of course," he hums, moving to press a kiss against your forehead. "just get some rest."

kaeya ━━━

you were supposed to be back an hour ago.

and yet, you weren't back.

he hates that he's pacing, hates that he feels so helpless. he should go find you. he should tell jean he's leaving, that he's not going to work for the rest of the day, that he's going to the outskirts of mondstadt to-

"kaeya!"

his head snaps up, his gaze falling to you. you were limping, why were- oh. there is a gash across your hip, bloody and staining your pants almost black, fading into red at the edges.

he's at your side as quickly as he can be. he's holding your shoulders, a silent plea not to move, not to put weight against the wound.

"shit- what happened? who did this to you?"

you swallow thickly, panting slightly. "just- i ran in to some people-"

"what kind of 'people'?"

"people that got taken care of, kaeya. i promise."

he stares at you for another few moment, a muscle ticking in his jaw. then he nods and moves to your injured side. he grabs your arm to drape it over his shoulders and around his neck, his other arm wrapping around you and pulling you into him.

"we're getting you inside, and safe, and then i'm going to make sure every last one is properly dealt with."

you shake your head at him, but don't say anything. you're grateful for the support on your leg and you weren't about to complain. slowly, he helps you hobble back to the city and slowly deposits you into an infirmary bed.

a nurse ushers kaeya away, and he spends the next twenty minutes pacing outside of the building, his arms crossed. finally, the door opens, and the same nurse sticks their head out of the door, "kaeya? you can come in."

he moves back into the building, maneuvering around people and equipment to kneel at your bedside.

"hey..." he says softly. his hand comes up to your face, back of his hand running affectionately across your cheek. "you feeling alright?"

you give him a small smile. "i'm fine."

"you are," he affirms. "but i still intend on finding the sons of bitches."

you frown at him, though it holds little heat. you study him for another moment before you give him a resigned sigh, "near cape oath."

he presses a kiss against your forehead, already standing up, "i'll be back before dark, my love."

wriothesley ━━━

wriothesley did not consider himself to be a violent person.

today, he was about to be.

it was the way you stumbled into his office, looking so worn out, blood draining down your face and down your chin. your lip was busted and a gash broke the skin near your temple, crimson trickling down your face and dripping onto his floor.

he’d been by your side before you could even utter a word, letting you lean against him and forcing you to sit on the floor. his thumb ran over the blood, as if trying to convince himself that this was real. that this had happened. likely in the fortress, no less.

had it been? no. there was no way. no one would harm someone so blatantly important to the duke… right?

he was pulled from his thoughts by a gentle grumble from you.

“give me a name.” he said, without really thinking about it. his voice was stern, and cold, and left no room for argument.

“what?” you blinked hard, seemingly trying to ground yourself.

“shit.” he cursed under his breath, helping you stand back up. why the hell you had come looking for him before medical attention, he’d never know.

still, he held you against him and helped you to the infirmary, whispering sweet affirmations under his breath the whole way. his string of ‘you are gonna be fine’s and ‘everything is gonna be alright’s dissipates as he slowly lowers you into an infirmary bed.

he straightens, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl twisting his face.

“who did this to you?” wriothesley asked again, this time more firmly.

you shake your head. “is… okay, wrio-”

“give me a goddamn name.” he asks again, and then his voice softens. “please.”

you watch him for another few moments before nodding and letting the person’s name fall from your lips. a muscle in his jaw ticks. he looks down to one of the melusines.

“i’ll be back in an hour. you tell me if they so much as twitch a finger weird.” he orders. he doesn’t wait for a reply, his jaw set as he moves out of the infirmary.

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sst4rdst · 1 month ago

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synopsis : genshin boys and their red flags. pairing : childe, scaramouche, xiao, diluc x reader (no gendered pronouns used for reader) warnings : yandere tendencies, unhealthy relationships, mention of controlling and manipulative behavior, each red flag is a warning by itself. author's note : “i don't have favorites” then there's scara part.

overwhelming affection and attachment issues – childe.

childe was not ready for love. maybe he was never meant to love. at least, not in the way that softens his edges and tugs at his heart. and yet, the moment he met you, his world shifted. you were his before you even knew it.

he courts you with unwavering determination. flowers, grand gestures, breathtaking views, mora—he gives and gives, always one step ahead, always ensuring you are left breathless. but then you falter. you worry. you question if a harbinger can truly love, if he can truly stay.

oh, my love, he laughs, voice honeyed with something far too sweet.

his arms are around you before you can pull away, his lips ghosting over your skin in soft, adoring presses. do not doubt, do not fear. if you need reassurance, he will give it. in gifts, in words, in the quiet promise that you are his and he is yours. he will take you to snezhnaya, introduce you as his betrothed, whisper vows of eternity until the words are carved into your very soul.

he loves you. he loves you. he loves you.

and yet, as his devotion smothers, as the weight of his affection grows unbearable, you cannot help but wonder—when he swore to love you forever, did he mean it as a promise, or a threat?

anger issues/violence – scaramouche.

where were you even supposed to start with him? the balladeer, the sixth of the fatui harbingers, the puppet who had carved his own place into history with bloodied hands and a twisted grin. you sighed, arms folded as you leaned against the balcony of the grand estate he had forced into your possession. a mockery of a home, nestled in the land of inazuma—the place of his so-called birth. no, not birth. creation.

he had mansions scattered across teyvat, all under your name. because you were to be wherever he wanted, whenever he wanted. a doll didn’t get to choose where it was placed.

you flinched when the cloth brushed against your shoulder, the sting of the lightning-shaped scar sending a nauseating wave of sensation through you. still healing. still burning. you didn’t have to look to know what it resembled—something eerily close to an electro vision, elegant in design, delicate even. the thought made your stomach churn. he had called it a claim, a permanent engraving on your body, mind, and soul. you belonged to him. he wanted the world to see it.

scaramouche was flawless, sickeningly so. apologies fell from his lips like honey, each word perfectly crafted, a voice dipped in false sweetness. he touched you like you were something precious, fragile, irreplaceable. and yet, it was his hands that had carved this mark into you. love. if he was even capable of such a thing.

you cursed the day you fell for him. but it didn’t matter anymore. not when he had already made you his. not when he had already decided you were never leaving. to him, this was love. a lover’s touch. a lover’s proof. a lover’s possession. what was a little pain, a little blood, compared to the unwavering devotion he had for you? he had never abandoned you. he had never let you go. and that—wasn’t that enough?

of course, he lashed out sometimes. hurt you, left bruises that bloomed like violets under his grip, spat words that cut deeper than any blade. but no one was perfect. he certainly wasn’t, but neither were you. and if you ever dared to point that out, dared to tell him he was flawed, he would laugh—sharp and condescending, gaze slicing through you like a weapon. you? telling him he was in the wrong? how amusing.

had you forgotten every little mistake you made? every time you disobeyed, every moment you disappointed him? he would remind you of them all, recounting each one with that knowing smirk, every slip-up, every failure. yet despite it all, he still kept you by his side. he still loved you, still held you close, even when you were ungrateful. he had never truly hurt you—not on purpose. he had only made sure everyone knew what was his.

you had given yourself to him first. whispered those sweet words before he ever did. you started this. and he was going to make sure you never forgot it. his lips brushed against your scar, his breath warm, reverent. a devotion so twisted it bordered on worship.

overprotectiveness – xiao.

xiao does not understand human fragility. he has spent centuries watching them crumble beneath the weight of time, has witnessed their fleeting existence burn away like paper in the wind. when you stepped into his world, he warned you to leave. you did not. when he told you it was dangerous, that he was dangerous, you only smiled. and so, against all reason, he let you stay. you are the first thing he has ever wished to keep.

he touches you as if you are made of glass, eyes scanning your skin for the smallest of wounds. he does not know how to soothe, only how to watch. and so he does—silently, relentlessly, unblinking in his observation. you tell him he worries too much, that you are fine, that you are not as fragile as he believes. but then you fall ill, and his voice sharpens into something cold. you should have worn warmer clothes. you should have listened to him.

and when harm comes from another, when someone dares to insult you, to lay a hand on you, his restraint shatters. the yaksha is feared for a reason. you whisper his name through clenched teeth, hands grasping at his own in desperate plea. he does not hear you. he cannot. and as the air grows thick with something suffocating, something violent, you wonder—how do you stop a storm that exists only to protect you?

possessiveness – diluc.

diluc has always been protective. of his home, of his people—of you. his love is fierce, a fire that burns not to destroy, but to shield. to him, you are something precious, something fragile, something that must be kept safe at any cost. and he tries, oh how he tries, to remain composed. but love and fear are two sides of the same coin, and as his devotion deepens, so too does his paranoia.

are you safe? are you warm? are you happy?

he is willing to break himself apart for you, to strip himself down to nothing if it means you will never know pain. and yet, the more he loves, the tighter he holds. he sees danger where there is none—a lingering gaze, a friendly gift, a name spoken too fondly. do not speak to them, he tells you, they do not have good intentions. do not take that, it could be poisoned. do not stray too far, let me watch over you.

you need not think, you need not worry. whatever it is you desire, whatever it is you require—let him provide, let him be your everything. he loves you, after all. and love, surely, is meant to protect.

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heavngumi · 1 month ago

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✧ things are getting heated this valentine’s !

— ft. fem reader x ayato, thoma, diluc, wriothesley, kazuha, albedo, alhaitham ꒰ separate ꒱ ⋆ minors do not interact! pnv ꒰ unprotected except in alhaitham’s ꒱. lots n lots of oral ꒰ reader giving n receiving ꒱. praise n degradation. fingering. marking. breeding in diluc’s. public sex in kazuha’s … 11k words ₊ 𓂃

♡ AYATO

there’s a sharp inhale once his eyes fall on you, quiet but telling. the kind that makes anticipation coil thick in your lower abdomen.

kamisato ayato is not a man easily shaken. he is composed, deliberate in his movements, every touch intentional. and yet, when you step into the candlelit bedroom wearing the delicate, white lacy thing you bought for this occasion, something flickers in his eyes—something dangerous.

his lips part slightly. then, he exhales a quiet chuckle, tilting his head as if you’ve presented him with a puzzle he’s eager to solve.

“my, my,” he muses, voice velvet-smooth. “you went through all this effort just for me?”

you don’t get the chance to answer before he crosses the distance between you. his fingertips brush your bare shoulder, featherlight, trailing down the curve of your arm. the heat of his palm settles at your waist, pulling you in, close enough that you can feel the steady rise and fall of his breath.

his gaze traces over you, reverent yet teasing. “it suits you,” he murmurs, dipping his head so his lips hover just above your ear. “but you must have known that already. you wouldn’t have chosen it otherwise.”

a shiver runs through you at the low timbre of his voice. “i hoped you’d like it,” you admit softly, hands resting against the front of his dress shirt, feeling the warmth of him through the thin fabric.

“oh, i do,” ayato hums, amusement laced with something deeper, something heady. “but now i have a problem, you see.”

you blink up at him, questioning.

he tugs you flush against him, the firm line of his body pressing into yours. his fingers find your chin, tilting your face up so you have no choice but to hold his gaze. the pale lavender tint of his irises darkens as he regards you.

“i don’t know whether to admire you a little longer... or to ruin you completely.”

heat pools low in your stomach at the weight of his words, the promise in them. he’s toying with you, savoring your reaction, and you fall into it so easily.

“ayato...” his name leaves your lips in a breathy whisper.

he groans softly, as if your voice alone undoes him, and then he’s kissing you—slow at first, making sure to savor every press of your lips. but it doesn’t stay that way. his hand slides up your back, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. he tastes of tea and something undeniably him, something you could drown in.

you barely notice the way he guides you toward the bed until the backs of your knees hit the edge. a gasp escapes you as he lowers you onto the sheets, his body covering yours, his lips never leaving your skin. he kisses a slow, burning path down your throat, the heat of his breath making you tremble beneath him.

“you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmurs against your collarbone. “do you have any idea what you do to me?”

you can only whimper in response, fingers tangling in his silken hair as he continues his way down. every touch, every kiss, is slow, unhurried, worshipful. he’s savoring you, unraveling you piece by piece, until all you can do is sigh his name into the night.

“ayato...” you breathe, wetness pooling low in your new lacy underwear, desperate and needy.

he lifts his head from your skin, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “what is it, love? tell me what you want.”

you swallow hard, every nerve ending alive with desire. “i want you... so badly.”

the grin that erupts on his face is devilish, and it sends another wave of heat coursing through you. “then let me give you what you need,” he murmurs, his voice low and inviting.

his hands begin to steadily explore your body, one moving down to cup your breast while the other trails down your abdomen, teasingly grazing over the lace of your lingerie and dipping beneath to explore just above your core. you arch into him, silently begging for more, your body reacting instinctively to his touch.

“archons, you’re perfect,” he whispers, lifting your legs up, revealing more of you to his hungry gaze. he continues to kiss a path down your body, his mouth burning a trail of fire from your tummy to the hem of your lace panties. when he finally reaches your inner thigh, he places kisses there, making your breath hitch in your throat. “mmm, so soft,” he murmurs, his lips almost worshipping the sensitive skin.

“ayato... p-please,” you beg, tone laced with urgency.

he chuckles, enjoying the neediness in your voice. “as you wish, darling.”

his fingers slide beneath the waistband of your panties, and with one swift motion, they’re discarded, leaving you completely bare before him. you can feel the heat radiating from his body, the raw desire palpable.

“ayato...” you breathe again, but he silences you with a deep kiss, sliding his tongue against yours.

and that's when his fingers find your core, teasing at your wetness, circling agonizingly slow. you gasp into his mouth, your body arching instinctively towards him, desperate for more.

his fingers push deeper, finding that sweet spot inside you that makes you see stars. “archons, you’re so wet for me,” he growls, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race.

“only for you,” you manage to whimper out, your breath quickening as he continues to work you, curling his fingers just right.

“that’s it, let me hear you, love,” he urges, his thumb rubbing circles over your sensitive nub while his fingers pump in and out of your cunt.

your moans fill the air, mixing with the sound of the waves crashing outside. “a-ayato! yes, just like that. please don’t stop!”

he leans down, kissing along your neck, his breath hot against your ear. “you’re so perfect, so responsive. i want to feel you coming for me.”

his words send you spiraling, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity, making you grasp at the satin sheets below you. “i’m so close... please!”

with a final thrust of his fingers, he expertly flicks your clit, and waves of bliss crash over you, sending you trembling into ecstasy. “ayato!” you cry out, your body shaking beneath him as he guides you through your high, unyielding in his touch.

as you come back to reality, you find him looking down at you with a gaze full of adoration, pride, and desire. “you’re stunning,” he breathes, wiping a stray tear from the corner of your eye.

“now, my turn to feel you,” you manage to say, reaching for the hem of his shirt.

he chuckles softly, his hands sliding over your body as he lets you work to undress him, revealing the strong form beneath. you pull the shirt off, feeling your cheeks burn as you take in the sight of him—just for you.

“do you like what you see?” he asks, voice teasing.

“a-absolutely,” you reply, flustered as you you take him in. you lean close enough to tease your warm breath against him, your hands exploring the shape of his muscles, the defined planes of his torso. ayato’s breath hitches in his throat, and you can’t help but smile at the effect you have on him.

you kiss your way down his chest, taking your time tasting him. as you kneel before him, you feel the heat radiating off his thick length, already freed from the confines of his underwear, and your mouth waters at the sight. you wrap your hand around him, giving a gentle squeeze, and he groans softly above you, his head tilted back, eyes closing.

“just like that, love,” he encourages. “you have no idea how much i want this.”

with one smooth movement, you take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around his tip, feeling him pulse against your tongue. the taste of him is intoxicating, and you revel in the way he responds to your every caress, his hands finding their way into your hair, guiding you deeper.

“archons, yes,” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. “you’re perfect.”

you take him deeper, feeling him fill you, each thrust of your head drawing out more of his heated groans. you press your tongue against his shaft, sucking harder, and he thrusts into your mouth, losing himself in the pleasure.

“f-fuck, that feels amazing,” he gasps, his fingers tightening in your hair as he moves with you, rocking his hips gently.

you moan around him, the vibrations sending him spiraling higher. “just like that, yes,” he murmurs under his breath, losing himself in the moment.

you can feel him nearing the edge, and so you pull away just enough to catch your breath. “i want you to come in my mouth, ayato. please.”

his eyes darken again, desire clear deep within them. “are you sure?”

you nod eagerly, ready to take him fully.

with that, he lets go, thrusting deep into your mouth, filling you completely as his cock hits that sweet spot at the back of your throat. he’s close, so close, and you can feel the tension building within him. “i-i’m going to come—” he warns, his voice strained.

you moan around his lenght to encourage eagerly, ready to taste him.

with a final thrust, he releases himself into your mouth with a low, heated groan, warmth filling you entirely. you swallow him down, savoring every sweet drop, your tongue working, coaxing him through the waves of pleasure, suckling at his tip.

as he pulls back, you lean up to kiss him, sharing the taste of himself, and he moans into your mouth, the intimacy of the moment electric.

“you’re incredible,” he breathes, pulling you into his arms. “now, let me take care of you properly.”

as he lays you back down, you’re consumed with anticipation. you know that the evening is still young, with him promising more pleasure, more intimacy, and a night you’ll both never forget.

“ayato,” you whisper, the candlelight flickering around you, as he positions himself above you.

“happy valentine’s day, my love,” he murmurs, and with that, he takes you whole.

♡ THOMA

the scent of something rich and savory fills the air, a simmering warmth curling through the kitchen. you can hear the quiet sizzle of oil in the pan, the rhythmic sound of a knife against the cutting board, the occasional soft hum of the man standing at the stove.

and archons, what a sight he is.

thoma stands with his back to you, golden skin kissed by freckles and the soft glow of candlelight, his broad shoulders shifting as he works. but it’s not just that. it’s the fact that he’s wearing nothing but an apron, the fabric tied loosely at his back, leaving absolutely everything else bare for your wandering gaze.

you swallow, hard.

“you’re staring.” his voice is all soft as usual, but there’s an unmistakable smirk in it.

“you’re making it impossible not to,” you admit, crossing the space between you.

thoma chuckles, setting down his utensils before turning to face you fully. and archons, it’s worse—better—when you’re standing this close. his skin is flushed from the heat of the stove, golden strands of hair slightly tousled, a bead of sweat trailing down his collarbone. but it’s the way he looks at you, playful yet darkened with something else entirely, that has your breath hitching.

“you know,” he muses, reaching for you, fingers brushing along your wrist before trailing higher, teasing over the bare skin of your arm. “i worked really hard on this dinner for you.”

“i can see that.” you barely hear your own voice over the way your heartbeat pounds in your ears.

thoma hums, tilting his head, eyes flicking down for the briefest moment. then, slowly, deliberately, he takes your hand and places it against his chest. the heat of his skin is searing under your touch, his heart beating steadily beneath your palm.

“but now i’m wondering...” his voice is lower now, rougher. his fingers curl under your chin, guiding your gaze back up to his. “are you even interested in the meal? or something else entirely?”

you barely get the chance to answer before he’s closing the space between you, capturing your lips in a slow, devastating kiss. it’s teasing at first, the press of his mouth soft but lingering, like he wants to take his time with you. but when you sigh against him, fingers curling against his chest, he groans—deep, wanting—and the kiss turns hungry.

his arms wrap around you, pulling you flush against him, and oh. the apron is the only thing separating you from feeling every inch of him, and it does little to hide the heat radiating off him, the way his body presses against yours with nothing but the flimsiest barrier between you.

“i should finish cooking,” he murmurs against your lips, though he makes no move to pull away.

“should you?” you run your fingers up his back, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath your touch.

thoma chuckles, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw, down to the sensitive spot just below your ear. he lingers there, lips barely brushing against your skin as he whispers, “i’m starting to think you have a different meal in mind.”

your breath catches. "you’re not wrong," you admit, squirming against him, the need coiling low in your stomach.

his laughter is low and utterly sinful, the vibration of it sending shivers through you. he presses one last kiss to your throat before pulling back, eyes dark with heat. “dinner first,” he says, voice full of teasing promise. “then i’ll take my time savoring you.”

and archons, the way he says it—like you’re the dessert, something sweet he can’t wait to devour—makes your legs feel weak. you know he means every word despite the teasing.

“are you really going to make me wait?” you challenge, a playful, but needy smile gracing your lips.

thoma raises an eyebrow, stepping back just slightly to let you take in the sight of him. “if you keep looking at me like that, i might just abandon dinner altogether.”

“consider it a compliment,” you say, voice unsteady. then you boldly pull the apron aside, feeling emboldened by the fiery glint in his eyes. the sight of him, fully exposed and radiating raw desire, makes your breath hitch all over again.

he steps closer, surprised but definitely not displeased by your boldness, and tugs the apron from your hands, tossing it aside. “then let me return the favor.”

before you can react, he’s lowering himself, mouth trailing kisses from your collarbone down to your chest, each touch igniting sparks along your skin. you gasp, arching into him as he moves further down, savoring your curves and sinking into the moment.

“thoma, please...” the words spill forth, a helpless plea as your fingers tangle in his hair.

“patience, love,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire. “i want to take my time.”

his hands skim down your sides, gently pushing you back against the countertop. the cool wood against your skin contrasts with the heat building within you, and you watch as he kneels before you, his eyes locking onto yours.

“let me show you how much you mean to me,” he promises, his breath warm against your skin as he shuffles closer, his hungry gaze focused on your core.

“oh,” you breathe, anticipation building within you.

he leans in, his tongue flicking out as he makes contact with the apex of your thighs, a soft gasp escaping your lips as he starts teasing you. his tongue dances along your folds, taking his time, every kitten flick deliberate.

“t-thoma!” you moan, squirming closer to him, desperate for more.

“you taste divine,” he murmurs against you, returning to his exploration, fingers digging deeper into your thighs as he pushes you closer to the edge. the sensations are overpowering, waves of pleasure lapping at your senses.

“please, don’t stop,” you implore, hands gripping the edge of the counter, your body responding instinctively to each delightful stroke of his tongue.

he hums in response, sending vibrations rippling through you, further heightening the delicious tension pooling in your belly. keep going, you urge silently, but the way he takes his time, savoring every moment, makes you realize he wants to draw it out.

“thoma, i’m c-close!” you cry out, bucking against his face as he focuses his efforts on that sweet spot driving you wild.

“let go for me, love,” he breathes against your cunt, fingers digging into your flesh as his movements become more insistent. “i want to feel you come.”

with one final swirl of his tongue, pleasure explodes through you in waves of bliss. your body quakes from the intensity, a delicious shudder that runs from your core to your fingertips. “archons, thoma!” you cry, your voice echoing through the kitchen.

he drinks it all in, licking you clean, a proud smile on his lips as he rises back up to meet you. the glow of the candlelight dances in his eyes, and you can see that he’s satisfied—but he’s not done yet.

“m-my turn,” you say breathlessly, feeling a surge of confidence return. you pull him closer, hands roaming over his body, tracing the defined muscles of his back and shoulders.

with a smirk, he lets you push him back until his back meets the wall. you kneel before him, and the way his breath catches is all the encouragement you need.

you grip him firmly, the heat of his length filling your palm, and you lean in, teasing your tongue against the tip. “i want to taste you,” you murmur, looking up at him through your lashes.

thoma’s breath hitches, and his hands grip the edge of the countertop. “you don’t have to—”

“i want to,” you insist, then take him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around him.

“fuck!” he groans, his knees nearly buckling at the sensation. you look up at him, watching the way his expression shifts from playful to something almost sinful.

you take him deeper, letting him slide along your tongue as you pull back slightly, creating a delicious tension. time feels like it slows as you lose yourself in the act, breathing him in, hearing the way he breathes your name like a prayer.

“just like that... archons, you’re perfect,” he gasps, pushing further into you, a hand tangling in your hair as you bounce up and down, taking him deeper and deeper.

“thoma, i want you to come in my mouth,” you say, the words muffled but clear enough as you press kisses along his thick lenght. you also want to feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you completely. but for now, you want to savor this moment.

the pleasure on his face, the way he gasps your name, only pushes you faster, more insistent. “yes,” he hissed, his voice thick with lust. “just like that.”

with every thrust, you suck and lick around him, coaxing him closer to the precipice. “i-i’m going to—” he warns, and that only spurs you on more.

“come for me,” you purr against his cock, “i wanna taste you.” and that does it for him as he lets out a cry and spills into your mouth, warm, thick liquid flooding your mouth. you swallow every drop, savoring him, and watching as his face flushes and his breath falters.

when he finally pulls out, you wipe your mouth, grinning at him, mildly proud of the way his legs seem to tremble.

“you’re insatiable,” he says, panting softly, admiration and desire evident in his gaze.

“i think you love it,” you tease, kissing your way back up his body, reclaiming his lips with passion.

“i do,” he replies, kissing you back, cradling your face in his hands.

“now, it’s definitely time to finish dinner,” he says, pulling away with a satisfied grin. the mischievous glint in his eyes makes your heart race. “after all that, i don’t want it to go cold.”

♡ DILUC

the warmth of the sun barely filters through the curtains, casting soft golden hues over the room. the world outside is just beginning to stir, but here, wrapped in the cocoon of diluc’s arms, time stretches slow and unhurried. it’s been too long since you’ve had a morning like this—just the two of you, tangled in the sheets, no duties to pull him away before dawn. and now, with the rare luxury of uninterrupted time, you have no intention of wasting a second of it.

a deep hum rumbles against your skin as diluc shifts beside you, his grip tightening around you, pulling you impossibly closer. his chest is bare, warm and solid against you, his body heat seeping into your own. one of his hands now rests low on your back, fingers tracing absent patterns over the curve of your waist, while the other goes to cup your cheek, tilting your face up so he can see you properly.

“good morning,” he murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep, rich and slow like honey.

you smile, brushing a stray strand of crimson hair from his face. “it really is.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, his lips ghosting over your forehead before trailing down, pressing slow, lingering kisses to your temple, your cheek, the corner of your mouth. “it’s been too long since i’ve woken up like this.” his voice is lower now, a confession wrapped in longing.

your fingers graze over his shoulder, feeling the tension still lingering beneath his skin. even now, on his day off, duty lingers like a shadow at the edge of his thoughts. but not today.

you press your lips to his jaw, soft but insistent. “stop thinking, luc” you whisper, letting your mouth wander lower, along the column of his throat. “just feel.”

a sharp inhale. his fingers dig into your waist as if steadying himself, a quiet shudder running through him as your lips graze the sensitive spot just beneath his ear.

“you always say things like that,” he murmurs, and there’s a rare, breathless chuckle in his voice. “and then you expect me to have self-control.”

you grin against his skin. “i never said anything about self-control.”

that does it.

before you can react, diluc flips you onto your back, his weight pressing deliciously over you. the look in his eyes—burning, intent, utterly unguarded—makes heat bloom deep in your stomach.

“you’re trouble,” he says, though the way he leans down, brushing his lips over yours, betrays just how little he minds.

“and you love it.”

his quiet groan is swallowed by the kiss that follows, slow and deep, his lips moving against yours with an almost desperate kind of devotion. his hand slides under the sheets, fingers exploring down a familiar path, as if trying to make up for all the recent nights he’s spent away. and when he whispers your name against your lips, worshipful, you know he means it. he’s making up for lost time. and neither of you will be leaving this bed anytime soon.

diluc’s hands roam over your body, the tips of his fingers tracing the curve of your breast, circling your nipple until it hardens under his touch. you arch into him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

“diluc...” you whisper, your voice already breathless.

he smiles against your skin, his lips trailing down to capture your nipple, sucking gently before moving to the other. each flick of his tongue sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, making you squirm beneath him.

“mmh, you taste so good,” he murmurs, his voice vibrating against your skin. “i could spend all day just like this.”

you thread your fingers through his hair, holding him close. “i wouldn’t mind that at all.”

his hand slides lower, over your stomach, and down to the apex of your thighs. he cups you gently, his fingers pressing against your most sensitive spot through the thin fabric of your underwear. you gasp, your hips bucking against his hand.

“so eager,” he teases, his breath hot against your ear. “i love how responsive you are.”

you can only nod, your breath coming in short pants as he continues to tease you. he slips his fingers beneath the fabric, finding your slick folds. a low groan escapes him as he feels how wet you are.

“always so ready for me,” he murmurs, his voice thick with desire.

he slides a finger inside you, and you moan, your body clenching around him. soon enough, he adds another one, stretching you, preparing you for what’s to come. his thumb circles your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you see stars.

“diluc, please...” you beg, your voice barely a whisper.

he looks up at you, his eyes dark with lust. “please what?” he asks, his voice a low growl.

“i need you i-inside me,” you manage to say, your body aching with need.

he smiles, a slow, wicked smile that promises so much more. “your wish is my command.”

he pats your cunt before he shifts, positioning himself between your legs. you can feel the hard length of him pressing against your entrance, and you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. he enters you slowly, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to his size. you moan, your body stretching to accommodate him.

“you feel so good,” he groans, his voice strained with effort. “so tight.”

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. “m-more,” you beg. “i need more.”

he begins to move, his hips thrusting against yours in a steady rhythm. each stroke hits that perfect spot inside you, making you gasp and moan. you cling to him, your nails digging into his back as he picks up the pace.

“yes, just like that,” you cry out, your body meeting his thrust for thrust.

he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. his tongue mimics the movements of his hips, driving you wild with desire. you can feel the tension building inside you, coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“l-luc, i’m close,” you pant, your body trembling with the effort of holding back.

he looks down at you, his eyes filled with love and desire. “let go,” he whispers. “i want to feel you come around me.”

his words are your undoing. you cry out, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure wash over you. he continues to thrust, drawing out your orgasm until you’re a trembling mess beneath him.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. “you’re so beautiful when you come.”

he slows his pace, giving you a moment to catch your breath. but he’s not done with you yet. he flips you onto your stomach, pulling your hips up so you’re on your knees. you look back at him over your shoulder, a wicked smile on your lips.

“again?” you ask, your voice teasing, but nervous.

he grins, his hands gripping your hips. “again,” he confirms, his voice a low growl.

he enters you from behind, his hips slapping against yours with each thrust. the angle is different, his cock hitting new spots inside you that make you gasp and moan. you brace yourself against the headboard, pushing back against him to meet his thrusts.

“yes, yes, yes,” you chant, your body already building towards another orgasm.

he leans over you, his chest pressing against your back. his hand snakes around to cup your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple. you cry out, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core.

“you like that?” he asks, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

“yes,” you gasp. “d-don’t stop.”

he doesn’t. he continues to thrust, his hand moving from your breast to your clit, circling the sensitive bud in time with his movements. you can feel yourself getting closer, your body tensing with each stroke.

“come for me,” he growls, his voice commanding. “squeeze my cock, just like that.”

you do, your body convulsing as another orgasm rips through you. he continues to thrust, drawing out your pleasure until you’re a trembling, sweaty mess beneath him.

“diluc,” you pant, your voice barely a whisper. “i can’t... i can’t take anymore.”

he slows his pace, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. “just one more,” he murmurs, his voice thick with need, almost begging. “i want to come inside you.”

and who are you to deny that? you nod, your body already responding to his words. he flips you onto your back again, his eyes locked on yours as he enters you one last time. his movements are slow and deliberate, each thrust filled with love and desire.

“you’re mine,” he whispers, his voice a low growl. “only mine.”

“yes,” you agree, your voice breathless. “only yours.”

he leans down, capturing your lips. his body tenses, and you can feel him pulsing inside you, filling you with his warm seed. you wrap your legs around him, holding him close as he rides out his orgasm.

“i love you,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “so much.”

“i love you too,” you whisper, your heart swelling with love.

he collapses beside you, pulling you into his arms. you snuggle against him, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasms. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his arms tightening around you.

“thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “for giving me this. for giving me you.”

you smile, your heart filled with love and contentment. “always,” you whisper. “always for you.”

♡ WRIOTHESLEY

wriothesley looks up from his desk when the scent of fresh roses overtakes the usual cold steel and parchment of his office. he blinks, surprised, as you step inside, holding a bouquet wrapped in soft ribbon, the red petals vivid against the stark walls of the fortress.

“what’s this?” his voice is low, gruff from hours of work, but there’s something else there—something softer beneath the rough edges.

you smile, placing the flowers down beside the scattered paperwork. “a valentine’s gift.”

for a moment, he just stares. like the idea of someone bringing *him* flowers is foreign, something distant and unattainable.

then, slowly, he exhales a quiet chuckle, shaking his head as he leans back in his chair. “you know, most people wouldn’t bring flowers to a prison.”

“clearly i’m not most people,” you tease, stepping closer.

“no,” he murmurs, watching you with that piercing gaze of his. “you’re not.”

you reach for him, fingers tracing the scar along his knuckles, feeling the tension coiled beneath his skin. even on today of all days, he won’t rest, won’t let himself have something as simple as an afternoon away.

but if he won’t leave work, then you’ll bring something sweeter to his prison of duty.

“you don’t know how to be taken care of, do you?” you whisper, tilting his chin up with your fingers.

his breath hitches, just barely, but you catch it. a flicker of something vulnerable, something unguarded, before he lets out a low, amused hum.

“you’re playing a dangerous game, sweetheart,” he murmurs, voice dark with something heavier than amusement.

“am i?” your hands slide over his shoulders, pressing against the firm muscle beneath his coat. “you work too much. someone has to remind you that there are better ways to spend today.”

wriothesley exhales sharply, his hands finding your waist, grip firm and needy as he pulls you down onto his lap. the shift in position presses you close, his warmth seeping into you through the layers of your clothing.

“better ways, huh?” he smirks, though there’s heat simmering behind his eyes. he tilts his head, lips brushing just below your ear as he murmurs, “then why don’t you show me?”

the words send a shiver down your spine. “i plan to.”

his hands tighten around you as he captures your lips in a slow, consuming kiss, one that leaves no room for hesitation. it’s deep and unhurried, as if he’s finally allowing himself to indulge, to take instead of always giving.

the bouquet lies forgotten on the desk, petals trembling with each movement, the scent of roses mingling with the taste of him, heady and intoxicating.

and as his hands slide lower, gripping your hips with a quiet groan, you pull back slightly. your breath mingling with his, you whisper, “let me take care of you.”

his eyes darken, and he nods, a silent agreement that sends a thrill through you. you stand up, your hands never leaving his body, and begin to unbutton his shirt. each button reveals more of his taut, scarred skin, and you can’t help but trace the lines with your fingertips, feeling the history etched into his flesh.

wriothesley watches you, his breath growing heavier with each touch. when his shirt is fully open, you lean down and press a soft kiss to his chest, right above his heart. he shudders, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair.

“you’re driving me crazy,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

you smile against his skin, your hands moving to his belt. “that’s the point,” you tease, unbuckling it slowly. you can feel his heartbeat quicken under your lips, and it sends a rush through you, heat polling in your underwear.

as you unzip his pants, he lifts his hips to help you slide them down, along with his boxers. his erection springs free, hitting his stomach hard and ready, and you take a moment to admire him, your breath hitching at the sight.

“like what you see?” he asks, a hint of playfulness in his voice despite the tension in his body.

“very much,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. you wrap both your hand around him, feeling his heat and hardness, and he lets out a low groan, his head falling back against the chair.

you stroke him slowly, your thumb circling the sensitive tip, spreading the bead of precum that’s gathered there. wriothesley’s hips buck slightly, his breath coming in short gasps.

“feels so good,” he murmurs, his eyes closed, lost in the sensation.

you lean down, your breath hot against his ear. “just wait,” you whisper, before sinking to your knees in front of him.

his eyes fly open, and he looks down at you, his gaze intense and hungry. you hold his stare as you lean forward, your tongue darting out to lick the tip of his cock. he groans, his hands gripping the arms of the chair tightly.

finally, you take his cock into your mouth, inch by inch, your tongue swirling around him. he tastes salty and masculine, and you can’t get enough. you moan softly, the vibration making him jerk in your mouth.

“f-fuck,” he breathes out, his hips lifting slightly, seeking more.

you oblige, of course, taking him deeper, your hands gripping his thighs for support. you can feel the muscles trembling under your touch, and it spurs you on. you bob your head, your mouth and tongue working in tandem to drive him wild.

wriothesley’s hands find their way into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands, guiding you but not forcing. his grunts fill the room, sounds of pleasure that have you aching with need.

you pull back slightly to catch your breath, your hand wrapping around the base of his cock. you look up at him, your eyes watering slightly from the effort, but the sight of him—head thrown back, mouth open in ecstasy—makes it all worth it.

“don’t stop,” he pleads, his voice hoarse with desire. “p-please, don’t stop.”

you have no intention of stopping. you redouble your efforts, your head bobbing faster, your hand stroking harder. you can feel his cock swelling in your mouth, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“i’m close,” he warns, his voice strained. “so close.”

you moan in encouragement, your free hand cupping his balls, massaging them gently. it’s enough to send him over the edge. with a deep groan, he comes, his body shaking with the force of his release. you swallow every drop, your mouth and tongue gentle now, coaxing him down from his high.

when he finally stills, you pull back, your lips swollen. you look up at him, a soft smile on your face, and he looks back at you, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and wonder.

“come here,” he murmurs, pulling you up onto his lap. you go willingly, straddling him, your arms wrapping around his neck. he kisses you deeply, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, tasting himself on you.

“that was...” he trails off, shaking his head slightly. “incredible.”

you smile, your fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “i’m glad you think so.”

he chuckles, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. “i more than think so, sweetheart. i know so.”

you lean your forehead against his, your eyes closed, just enjoying the moment. the scent of roses still lingers in the air, mixing with the musk of sex and the warmth of his body. it’s a heady combination, one that makes you feel both relaxed and exhilarated.

“you know,” you say softly, “this is the first time i’ve seen you truly relax.”

he opens his eyes, looking into yours. “that’s because you make me feel safe,” he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. “safe enough to let go.”

your heart swells at his words, and you kiss him softly, pouring all your feelings into it. he responds in kind, his arms tightening around you, holding you close.

when you pull back, you can see the desire sparking in his eyes again, and you grin, feeling a rush of anticipation.

“ready for round two?” you ask, your voice teasing.

he smirks, his hands sliding down to cup your ass. “with you? always.”

and with that, he stands up, lifting you with him, and sitting you down on his desk, sweeping the papers and the bouquet aside with one arm. he sets you down on the edge, his body pressing against yours, and you can feel his hardness growing again, pressing against your core.

you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he captures your mouth in another searing kiss. his hands roam over your body, touching, teasing, driving you wild with need.

you break away from his kiss, your breath coming in short gasps. “archons, wrio, i need you,” you plead, your voice desperate. “now.”

he doesn’t need to be told twice. he unbuttons your pants, sliding them down your legs along with your underwear. you kick them off, your heart pounding with anticipation. he steps back slightly, his eyes raking over your body, and you can see the hunger in his gaze.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice rough with desire.

you smile, your cheeks flushing slightly at his words. “and you’re still wearing too many clothes,” you tease, reaching for his open shirt.

he chuckles, shrugging it off quickly, followed by fully stripping himself of his boxers. then he’s standing before you, gloriously naked, his body a map of scars and muscles that tell a story of their own.

you reach for him, your hands tracing the lines of his body, feeling the heat of his skin under your fingertips. he shudders at your touch, his eyes closing briefly, before opening again, filled with a fierce intensity.

he steps closer, his hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wider. you can feel his cock pressing against your entrance, hot and hard, and you let out a soft moan, your body aching with need.

“please,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

he leans down, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes locked on yours. “please what?” he asks, his voice a low rumble.

you swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “please fuck me,” you beg, your voice desperate.

a slow, wicked smile spreads across his face, and he captures your mouth in another deep kiss. at the same time, he thrusts into you, filling you completely. you gasp into his mouth, your body arching against his, your nails digging into his shoulders.

he starts to move, his hips thrusting in a slow, steady rhythm. each stroke hits deep, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. you moan, your head falling back, your eyes closed, lost in the sensation.

“look at me,” he commands, his voice rough with desire.

you force your eyes open, meeting his gaze. the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away, and you can’t look away, even as his thrusts grow harder, faster, driving you higher and higher.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice strained. “so tight, so wet.”

you can only moan in response, your body trembling with each thrust. you can feel your orgasm building, a coil of pleasure tightening in your core.

“come for me,” he urges, his voice a low growl. “let me feel you come around my cock.”

his words send you over the edge. with a cry, you come, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his skin. he groans, his hips jerking as he finds his own release, his cock pulsing inside you.

you collapse against each other, your breaths coming in short gasps, your bodies slick with sweat. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, his face buried in your neck.

“that was...” you trail off, shaking your head slightly. “incredible.”

he chuckles, his breath hot against your skin. “i could say the same thing,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

you smile, your eyes closed, just enjoying the moment. the scent of roses still lingers in the air, mixing with the musk of sex and the warmth of his body. the conbination makes your head feel dizzy.

after a few moments, he pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “thank you,” he says softly. “for reminding me that there’s more to life than just work.”

you cup his cheek, your thumb brushing gently against his skin. “anytime,” you reply, your voice just as soft. “that’s what i’m here for.”

he smiles, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. “i’m glad you are,” he says, before capturing your mouth in another soft, lingering kiss.

as you pull away, you can’t help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. this is what you wanted—to remind him that he deserves to be taken care of, to show him that there’s more to life than just duty and responsibility. and as you look into his eyes, you know that you’ve succeeded.

♡ KAZUHA

the evening air is cool, tinged with the scent of cherry blossoms and the distant salt of the sea. lanterns glow softly along the park’s winding path, casting pools of golden light where couples linger—whispers of laughter, the quiet rustle of silk sleeves brushing together.

but kazuha’s attention is solely on you.

he leans in, voice no louder than a breath, “you’re trembling.”

you swallow, heat pooling in your stomach at the realization—it’s not from the cold.

kazuha sits behind you on the secluded bench, his arms loose but firm around your waist, fingers tracing the edge of your sleeve with a slowness that makes your breath hitch. his lips hover near your ear, warm and teasing, sending shivers down your spine with each whispered word.

“you’re always so bold,” he muses, fingers slipping just beneath the hem of your coat, just enough for his knuckles to graze the bare skin of your thigh. “and yet now, you’re shaking.”

you shift in his lap, an attempt at feigning control, but it only makes things worse—the solid press of his body against yours, the way his grip tightens, the quiet sigh he exhales, hot against your neck.

“people could see,” you whisper, barely audible.

kazuha chuckles, low and utterly sinful. “then you’ll just have to be quiet, won’t you?”

a gasp catches in your throat as his lips brush the shell of your ear, soft and fleeting, before trailing lower, ghosting along the curve of your neck. his hands trace along your hips, fingers pressing, teasing, before pulling you just a little closer, just enough to make your pulse stutter.

your fingers dig into his thighs, a silent plea, a warning—one he pointedly ignores.

“kazuha—”

“shh,” he soothes, lips barely touching your skin as he whispers, “wouldn’t want to alert the others now, would we?”

the distant murmur of another couple drifts through the night, oblivious, and the thought sends a thrill through you—this dangerous, delicate game of restraint, the need threatening to spill over.

kazuha hums, pleased by the way your breath hitches, by the way your body responds to his touch even as you try to stay composed. his voice is soft and teasing as he nips lightly at your pulse.

“such a shame,” he muses, fingers curling just beneath your chin, tilting your face towards him. “if only we were somewhere more private… i wouldn’t have to hold back.”

his lips press against yours, slow and deep, stealing the breath right from your lungs. and as his hands tighten, as heat coils and tension hums between you, you realize one thing:

you’re losing this game.

and you don’t mind one bit.

kazuha’s fingers trace a path up your thigh, his touch light but deliberate, sending waves of anticipation through you. you can feel the heat of his body, the steady rhythm of his breath against your neck, and you squeeze your eyes tightly as you try and keep yourself from moaning out loud.

“k-kazu,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, “we shouldn’t—”

“shouldn’t what?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “shouldn’t enjoy this moment? shouldn’t let ourselves get carried away?”

his hand moves higher, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. you bite your lip, trying to suppress a gasp, but it escapes anyway, a soft, desperate sound that makes kazuha smile against your skin.

“you’re so responsive,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “it’s intoxicating.”

you shift in his lap, trying to ease the ache building between your legs, but the movement only presses you closer to him, making the situation worse. kazuha’s grip on your waist tightens, holding you still as his other hand continues its torturous exploration.

“p-please,” you beg, not even sure what you’re asking for. more? less? something to ease the tension coiling inside you?

kazuha’s fingers finally reach their destination, brushing lightly over the fabric of your lacy underwear. you let out a shaky breath, your body tensing in anticipation. he teases you, his touch feather-light, barely there, before finally pressing more firmly, eliciting a moan from you.

“shh,” he reminds you, his voice a soft whisper. “remember, we have to be quiet.”

you nod, biting your lip to keep from making any more noise. kazuha’s fingers move in slow, deliberate circles over your clit, the pressure building with each touch. you can feel the heat pooling in your lower abdomen, squeezing your thighs aroud his hand.

“you’re so wet,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “so ready for me.”

you whimper, unable to form words, as his fingers slip beneath the fabric, finally touching you skin to skin. the sensation is electric, sending jolts of pleasure through you. you grip his legs tightly, your nails digging into the fabric of his pants.

kazuha’s fingers move expertly, knowing exactly how to touch you, how to build the pleasure in your cunt higher and higher. you can feel your body tensing, the pressure building to an almost unbearable level.

“ahh, kazu,” you gasp, his name a plea on your lips. “i’m close—”

“i know,” he says, his voice a soft rumble. “i know, just let go. i’ve got you.”

and with those words, you do. the tension snaps, pleasure washing over you in waves. you bite down on your lip, trying to keep the sounds of your release quiet, but a soft moan escapes nonetheless. kazuha’s grip on you tightens, holding you close as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

as you come down from the high, kazuha’s touch softens, his fingers gently stroking you, bringing you back to earth. you lean back against him, your body limp and sated. he presses a soft kiss to your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

“you’re so beautiful when you let go,” he murmurs, his voice a soft whisper.

you turn your head, capturing his lips in a slow, languid kiss. you can taste the cherry blossoms on his lips, the sweetness of the night air. as you pull away, you smile, a soft, contented smile.

“your turn,” you say, your voice a soft purr.

kazuha raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “oh, really?”

you nod, a glint in your eyes. “really.”

you shift in his lap, turning to face him. your hands slide up his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt. kazuha watches you, his eyes dark with desire, as you begin to unbutton his shirt, revealing more of his smooth, tanned skin.

“you’re playing with fire,” he warns, his voice a low growl.

you smile, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs. “i think i like the heat.”

kazuha’s breath hitches as your fingers dip lower, tracing the waistband of his pants. you can feel the hard length of him pressing against the fabric, and you smile, knowing you’re affecting him just as much as he affected you.

you lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips as your hand slips beneath the waistband, finally wrapping around him. kazuha groans, the sound low and deep, sending a thrill through you. you stroke him slowly, your grip firm but gentle, drawing out another groan from him.

“you’re driving me crazy,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble.

you smile against his lips, your hand moving faster, your grip tightening. kazuha’s breath comes in short, sharp gasps, his body tensing beneath your touch. you can feel the pleasure building in him, the tension coiling tighter and tighter.

“let go,” you whisper, your voice a soft command. “let go for me, kazu.”

and with those words, he does. his body tenses, a low moan escaping his lips as he finds his release. you stroke him through it, your touch gentle but firm, drawing out every last wave of pleasure.

as he comes down from the high, you slow your movements, your touch softening. kazuha leans his forehead against yours, his breath coming in slow, steady gasps. you smile, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“you’re incredible,” he murmurs in a soft whisper.

you smile, your fingers tracing the lines of his face. “so are you.”

and as you sit there, wrapped in each other’s arms, you know that this night is far from over.

♡ ALBEDO

the candlelight flickers, casting golden hues across the atelier. the scent of oil paints lingers in the air, mingling with something sweeter—the quiet intimacy of being seen.

albedo’s brush glides over the canvas, deliberate, precise, but his gaze… his gaze lingers elsewhere. on you.

you shift beneath his stare, warmth blooming under your skin despite the cool air brushing over your bare body. the silk draped beneath you does little to preserve modesty, pooling around your waist in a way that only enhances the vulnerability of the moment.

his voice is soft, thoughtful. “you’re tense.”

your fingers clutch the fabric at your side. “maybe because you’re staring.”

he chuckles, quiet but indulgent, setting the brush aside. “you wanted me to paint you, love,” he murmurs, standing. the soft creak of the stool, the quiet shuffle of movement and it all feels too slow, too deliberate. “should i not admire my muse?”

you exhale, intending to form some retort, but the words never come—not when he moves closer, not when his gloved fingers trace the edge of your jaw, tilting your face up to meet his eyes.

not when his other hand ghosts over your collarbone, barely there, yet setting every nerve on fire.

the touch is light at first, a study in patience, in restraint. his fingers trail lower, over your arm, down your ribs, mapping the curves he had so carefully sketched onto the canvas.

then lower.

your breath stutters. “albedo-”

he hums in acknowledgment, but his hand doesn’t stop. it glides, slow and knowing, pressing into the softness of your thigh. “fascinating,” he muses, thumb sweeping along your skin in a way that makes your pulse quicken. “i wonder… how much of this warmth is due to embarrassment, and how much is something else?”

you shiver, heat pooling low in your stomach. “you’re awfully talkative.”

his smirk is barely there, but the shift in his demeanor is undeniable—this is no longer about art.

“am i?” he leans in, lips brushing over your shoulder in the lightest of touches before trailing up, up, until his breath fans against the shell of your ear. “then perhaps i should put my mouth to better use.”

a challenge. a promise.

his lips capture yours before you can answer, the warmth of him a stark contrast to the cool air of the room. his hands find your waist, pulling you close, letting you feel the way tension coils beneath his calm exterior, the way his self-control wavers when it comes to his lover.

the painting lies forgotten on the easel, the brushes untouched.

because tonight, he’ll be studying you.

his kiss deepens, tongue sweeping against yours in a dance that leaves you breathless. you can feel the heat of his body, the way his muscles tense under your touch as you reach up, fingers tangling in his hair. he groans softly, the sound vibrating against your lips, and you can't help but smile, knowing the effect you have on him.

"you're enjoying this," he murmurs, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. his are dark with desire, pupils blown wide.

"maybe," you mumrur, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. "or maybe i just like seeing you lose control."

he raises an eyebrow, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "is that so?" his hands slide down to your hips, gripping tightly before lifting you effortlessly onto the chaise lounge tucked in the corner of the studio. you let out a surprised gasp, but he just smiles, kneeling before you.

"then let's see how much control i can make you lose," he says, voice low and husky. his hands push your thighs apart, exposing you to the cool air and his heated gaze. you shiver, but not from the cold.

he leans in, breath hot against your most intimate place. you squirm, anticipation building, but he takes his time, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs, making you wait. making you want.

"a-albedo," you moan in a plea. he looks up at you, eyes locked onto yours as he finally, finally, puts his mouth to better use.

the first touch of his tongue is electric, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. he starts slow, exploring and tasting your cunt, each flick and swirl sending waves of sensation crashing over you. your hands find his hair again, gripping tightly as you try to steady yourself.

he hums against your hole, the vibration adding to the sensations overwhelming you. your breath comes in short gasps, punctuated by moans that fill the quiet of the studio. there's nothing but this—his mouth on you, your body responding to his every touch.

"you taste incredible," he murmurs, pulling back just enough to speak before diving back in like a starving man. his hands grip your thighs tighter, holding you open for him as he devours you. it's too much, not enough, all at once.

"b-bedo," you gasp, tension coiling tight in your belly. "i'm close."

he growls, the sound vibrating against you, pushing you even closer to the edge. his tongue flicks faster, zeroing in on the spot that makes your body sing. one hand leaves your thigh, two fingers sliding into you easily, filling you, stretching you.

it's too much. it's perfect. it's everything.

you come undone with a cry, body arching off the chaise as pleasure crashes over you. he stays with you, tongue gentling but not stopping, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you collapse back onto the chaise, boneless and sated.

he presses one last soft kiss to your thigh before standing, looming over you with a satisfied smirk. "well," he says, voice gentle, "that was quite the study in desire."

you laugh, breathless and content. "come here," you say, reaching for him. he comes willingly, stretching out beside you on the chaise, pulling you into his arms. you can feel the hard length of him pressed against your hip, but he makes no move to rush, content to hold you, to kiss you softly, to let you set the pace.

"thank you," you murmur, tracing patterns on his chest with your fingertips. "for the painting. for... this."

♡ ALHAITHAM

“you’re aware this holiday is nothing more than a commercial ploy, aren’t you?”

alhaitham barely glances up from his book, his voice calm and utterly uninterested. you’re curled up beside him on the couch, yet there’s a noticeable distance—one you fully intend to close.

you sigh dramatically, stretching just enough to press against his side. “so cynical,” you murmur, dragging a slow finger down his arm, tracing the muscle beneath his loose sleeve. “you say that, but you still agreed to spend the evening with me.”

“i spend most of my evenings with you.” he doesn’t react, but you catch the way his fingers twitch slightly against the page. “i fail to see how today is any different.”

you hum, shifting to straddle his lap, effectively cutting off any further argument. his breath hitches. not enough for most to notice, but you do.

“let me show you, then.”

his book is forgotten the moment your lips brush against his neck.

there’s the briefest pause, a moment where you think he might scoff, might dismiss you entirely. but then his hands find your waist, his grip firm and grounding.

“is this your attempt at persuasion?” his voice is quieter now, edged with something deeper, something intrigued.

you press a kiss just beneath his jaw, savoring the way his pulse jumps. “is it working?”

a sharp exhale. his grip tightens.

“you’re insufferable,” he mutters, though there’s no real bite to it. if anything, the way his fingers slide down your spine tells you he’s enjoying this.

good.

you smile, tilting his chin up until he’s looking at you, emerald eyes dark with something unreadable. “then stop thinking so much and enjoy the moment.”

there’s a beat of silence. then he pulls you down into a kiss, slow and consuming, one that makes heat pool low in your abdomen.

it’s rare for him to be this receptive, to let go of logic and indulge in something as fleeting as romance. but tonight, his lips are insistent, his hands impatient as they slide beneath the fabric of your shirt, fingers pressing and grasping.

he breaks the kiss just enough to murmur against your lips, “you’re ridiculous.”

you grin. “and yet, you’re still holding me like you don’t want me to leave.”

a quiet chuckle, a rare thing, before he flips you beneath him, caging you between warmth and muscle, the weight of his body pressing you into the couch.

“fine,” he concedes, voice lower now, rougher. “convince me.”

and judging by the way he kisses you again—hungry, unrestrained—you think you already have.

his hands roam over your body, exploring every curve and line as if he’s memorizing you. you arch into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips. he swallows the sound with another deep kiss, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, claiming you.

“haitham,” you whisper, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. his name on your lips seems to ignite something within him, and he trails kisses down your neck, his breath hot against your skin.

“you taste so good,” he murmurs, his lips moving lower, tracing the collarbone. his hands slip under your shirt, pushing it up and over your head. you shiver as the cool air hits your skin, but his warmth quickly envelops you again.

he takes a moment to admire you, his eyes dark with desire. “beautiful,” he says softly, before dipping his head to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. you gasp, your back arching off the couch as he sucks and nips, sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

your hands find his shoulders, gripping tightly as he lavishes attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle kisses and sharp bites. you can feel his hardness pressing against you, and you moan softly, your hips grinding against him. he breaks the kiss, his breath coming in short gasps.

“you’re insatiable,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down your neck. you tilt your head back, giving him better access.

“only for you,” you reply, your voice breathy and desperate. he chuckles, his hands sliding down your body, exploring every curve and line.

you push him back against the couch, straddling his lap. he looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire. you lean down to nip at his neck.

“i want to taste you,” you murmur against the shell of his ear. he groans, his hands gripping your hips tightly.

“you don’t have to,” he says, his voice strained. you smile, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.

“i want to,” you insist, your voice soft but firm. he nods, his breath hitching as you begin to trail kisses down his chest.

you take your time, exploring every inch of him with your lips and tongue. he moans softly, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you lower.

you reach the waistband of his boxers, and you look up at him, a wicked smile on your lips. he watches you, his eyes dark with anticipation. you hook your fingers in the waistband, pulling them down slowly, revealing his hard length.

you wrap your hand around him, and he hisses in pleasure. you stroke him slowly, your eyes locked on his, watching every reaction, every twitch of his muscles.

“you’re teasing me,” he accuses, his voice rough with desire. you smile, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the tip of his cock.

“maybe a little,” you admit, your tongue flicking out to taste him. he groans, his hips bucking slightly.

you take him into your mouth, inch by inch, your tongue swirling around him. he moans loudly, his hands gripping your hair tightly. you begin to move, your head bobbing up and down, taking him deeper with each pass.

“archons, you feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice strained. you hum in agreement, the vibration sending a shiver through him.

you pick up the pace, your hand working in time with your mouth. he’s moaning loudly now, his hips moving in time with you, his breath coming in short gasps.

“i’m close,” he warns, his voice strained. you don’t stop, your movements becoming more urgent, more desperate.

he comes with a loud groan, his body tensing as he finds his release. you swallow every drop, your mouth continuing to move on him until he’s spent.

you pull away slowly, a satisfied smile on your lips. he looks down at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction.

“come here,” he murmurs and reaches for you, pulling you up to kiss you sloppily again, tasting himself on your lips.

“i want you inside me,” you whisper against his mouth. he groans, his body pressing against yours, his hardness evident through his pants.

“are you sure?” he asks, his voice strained. you nod, your hands moving to his pants, unbuttoning them and pushing them down. he kicks them off, his boxers following quickly.

you take a moment to admire him, his body lean and muscular, his cock hard and ready. you reach out, wrapping your hand around him once more, and he hisses in pleasure.

“condom,” he manages to say, reaching for his pants and pulling one out of his wallet. you take it from him, tearing it open and rolling it onto him, your hands lingering on his length.

he settles between your legs, his cock poised at your entrance. he looks into your eyes, a silent question. you nod, your hands gripping his hips, pulling him closer.

he slides into you slowly, inch by inch, filling you completely. you both moan, the sensation overwhelming. he stays still for a moment, allowing you to adjust to him, before beginning to move.

his thrusts are slow and deliberate, each one sending waves of pleasure through you. you wrap your legs around him, pulling him deeper, urging him faster. he complies, his hips moving quicker, his breath coming in short gasps.

“you feel so good,” he murmurs, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss. you moan into his mouth, your nails digging into his back as the pleasure builds again.

he breaks the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he continues to thrust into you. “i want you to come with me,” he says, his voice strained. you nod, your body already on the edge.

he reaches between you, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in time with his thrusts. the dual sensation is too much, and you cry out, your body convulsing around him as you come.

he follows quickly, his body tensing as he finds his own release. he collapses on top of you, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his body slick with sweat.

you wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you both come down from the high. he presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“you’re right,” he murmurs, his voice soft and sleepy. “this is different.”

you smile, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. “told you so.”

as you both lie there, wrapped in each other’s arms, alhaitham can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, there’s something to this romance thing after all. and maybe, just maybe, valentine’s day isn’t so bad.

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pomegranate-theater · 1 month ago

Text

ᥫ᭡ TAKING CARE OF THEM WHEN THEY’RE SICK / Ayato, Childe, Diluc, Jing Yuan, Dr. Ratio, Aventurine

contents: fluff / gender neutral reader / reverse comfort / established relationship / reader doesn’t play around / Diluc ends up drunk / suggestive in Aventurine’s part

Since flu season is raging in my country (got to me too), I felt inclined to write this lol.

Ayato

You were working on documents in your own office, dealing with typical Yashiro commission stuff. It was Thoma who interrupted you, walking into the door with a worried look, making you wonder what happened.

“Thoma, what is it?” you asked, setting a brush on the table.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, it’s… Lord Ayato,” he started nervously, knowing the thing he’ll mention will provoke your temper you occasionally had with your husband—albeit rightfully. “He’s sick, but… he’s refusing to let me take care of him, saying he can work in this state.”

“Is that so?” you asked with a click of a tongue. “And I assume you want me to take care of him?”

Thoma nodded hesitantly. He didn’t want to interrupt your work, but sometimes only you were able to make Ayato listen. “Of course he’d be stubborn…” you sighed, and stood up. As you passed by Thoma when leaving the office, he quickly moved aside to give you space to walk, as if afraid of getting in the way of your anger.

When you finally reached your chambers, storming into a room you both shared, you looked at your husband sitting on the futon in displeasure. You could see how awful he looked, all pale, with dark eye circles, hair so messy it doesn’t feel like proper him—yet this man had an audacity to read through documents.

He turned to look at you, something like annoyance flashed his face, yet it quickly died when he noticed your slight anger. Only you had a way to make a man like him nervous—he knew once you set your mind on something he’s not getting out of this and he did value your opinion.

“Why aren’t you resting?” you asked with a hand on your hip.

“Because I’m not as sick as they say. A mere cold. I can’t abandon my work,” he argued, all stubborn sounding.

You scoffed, “Work? Don’t you see your document is upside down?”

He looked at the paper, now hilariously dumbfounded as he noticed you were right. “Well—”

“No,” you interjected bluntly and took away his documents after kneeling down next to him he tried to catch but even his hand was too weak and fell downward. “If you can’t read these you won’t be able to get any work done anyway.”

You then pressed your palm against his shoulder, making him lay down. Ayato looked at you with annoyance making its return, almost like a spoiled child who couldn’t get his way; but eventually, didn’t try to get up—he knew you were more stubborn than him and with you he was a weak man in the end. “I don’t need to be coddled.”

“Can’t call it coddling when you can’t even take care of yourself in the first place,” you said sharply, making him wince. A bowl of water Thoma left behind, you wet a towel with its contents. Brushing his hair off of forehead back, you placed a cold towel on his head.

Ayato shivered from the coldness, but relaxed when it felt better against his slight fever. He looked at you with a frown again, almost like a puppy trying to scare you off so he’s given a chance to work again… but seeing your face so focused and sort of worried after your initial anger has passed, he suddenly felt fuzzy. His spouse was taking care of him, all nice for him, they were there, there was no more work… He had all of your attention and couldn’t be any more satisfied.

He melted when your delicate hands cleaned his chest under his yukata, so cooling and soothing to his aches and discomforts. When you brushed his hair with a comb, he no longer cared about work. His scalp was pleasured and you were treating him like someone you loved. He was being reassured that he needed to do none for once.

“You know, darling…” Ayato said, making his voice even weaker than it was. “I think my back hurts. Can you give me a massage?” He coughed, and he looked so vulnerable. Yes, he was making his state to appear even worse—anything to receive your additional care and affection. At this point he thought you could baby him all you want, grown man or not.

Noticing his intensions was easy for you. However, you’d rather deal with spoiled Ayato than a stubborn one. “As long as you take medicine first.”

“Deal. But I’m afraid you’ll have to feed it to me,” he said with overly worn eyes, looking so vulnerable.

How could you say no to these begging eyes? You had him wrapped around your finger, but it was mutual.

Childe

When Childe stumbled inside your shared house looking all tired, you didn’t think much of it—there was just an assumption it’s nothing but exhaustion bothering him after the whole day of work. It was only when he fell against your body after approaching you (or attempting to) in the hallway of the wooden house, that you realized something was off.

“Ajax?” you asked with a worried tone, trying to ignore the fact his wet clothes from the Snezhnayan outside were still not taken off and wetting both you and the floor. He looked rather incoherent to you. “What’s wrong?” You put a head on his forehead, but it was difficult to tell if he had a fever after being out in a cold weather.

“Sick… can darling mine make me a soup…” this was all he managed to murmur. That confirmed your suspicions, and you sighed. Someone so physically strong, surviving the worst injuries—you didn’t think he’d fall a victim to a simple infection. You were surprised he even managed to find his way back when he seemed out of it.

Apparently he knew where home was.

You held him closely when he buried his face in your neck, speaking incoherently; all desperate for your warmth and comfort. His eyes were closed and his brain foggy but he’d recognize you every time. “Your soup the best…” You would have been flattered by the compliment if it wasn’t for him being in a rather terrible condition.

“Yes, I’ll make you soup,” you said reassuringly and tried to help him reach the bedroom. As you were taking off his clothes and wiping him with towel on bed, Childe couldn’t stop reaching his hands towards in search of your body to be assured you’re still there. Who would have thought he’d be so clingy and vulnerable… you found him rather cute in this state, despite your concerns.

You had to ignore his whine when leaving the bedroom to prepare soup, instead hoping he’ll catch a short nap meanwhile.

You froze when you returned. He was sleeping on his back, hands crossed together, that you had to do a double check to see if he’s still alive—with how pale he was and the position, he looked like a man ready to be a put in the coffin. “A-ajax?” you called out.

Ajax murmured something incoherent and opened his eyes drowsily. You sighed in relief, realizing how silly your concern was.

“Soup?” he asked hopefully, his eyes barely open. “Yeah, soup,” you laughed, amused by him being so obsessed with the soup.

You placed the bowl on the bedside table and sat down on the bed next to him. “Up you go.” You helped him sit up and his head automatically fell onto your shoulder, clinging and looking for all you and the warmth he could get. “Mm… my darling is here…”

You should have been mad at him for putting himself in this state, yet it was hard with how endearing your lover was behaving; all unable to rest easy if you’re not here.

With bowl in your hands, you began to spoonfeed him, ensuring you went slowly enough. You made him sigh in relief—it was the familiar warmth of favorite soup but also you that made him feel at peace in his delirious state.

After setting a dish aside, you were planning to get up to find medicine, only to be stopped by Childe who suddenly had enough strength to tackle you down and hold tightly onto you. You tried to free yourself but to no avail.

“No… let me…” he murmured, his arms wrapped around you with his head on your chest.

You will be stuck here for a while.

Diluc

When you’ve returned from the city, carrying a basket with all the stuff you bought for sick Diluc, you didn’t expect an ongoing panic within the winery.

Two maids were standing in the corner, whispering to each other nervously, Adelinde was walking around in circles as if waiting for you, and Elzer was drumming his fingers against the desk in anticipation.

“What’s up?” When Adelinde saw you, she immediately approached you.

“Bad news. Master Diluc is drunk,” she said with worry, dumping the surprising news on you right away.

You couldn’t understand why Diluc would be drunk, considering he avoided drinking, but you knew it was bad terrible news. He was a whole lightweight drinker and could be knocked out for days after a smaller amount, like he had done at the banquet with Snezhnayan merchants after drinking a shot of fire-water back then. “But… how would this happen?” You were ready to run upstairs to check up on him.

“The medicine… the syrup… it had a small amount of alcohol in it,” Adelinde informed, making you dumbfounded. You knew these had some contains, but not enough to get drunk! Then again, Diluc’s sensitivity to alcohol was ridiculous…

You shook your head, having made peace with the fact it’s been done. “How bad is it?”

Adelinde fell silent for few seconds, wondering how to deliver the news to you. “Well… he’s been out of character. He keeps asking for you and being all childish about you not being there. Could you…”

You nodded, knowing Diluc won’t stop causing chaos if he doesn’t see you here. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it, Adelinde. Can you ask a cook to prepare some light meal for him?”

“Of course.”

As Adelinde watched you go, she had to stifle a laughter. She knew her master will be plenty of embarrassed once he sobers and finds about his mischief he won’t even remember.

As you entered the bedroom, you were surprised to see Diluc… sniffling. Was he crying just because you weren’t there? Such thing pulled at your heartstrings; despite it being a shocking yet hilarious sight—he usually bottled up everything. He was lying in bed, his face buried in pillows as he pathetically rested on his side.

“Diluc?” you called out to him, your voice quiet. You got an immediate response, him quickly sitting up. “M-my love?” he looked at you and suddenly he was all smiley. “You’re back! I thought you left me alone,” his speech was all slurred. It was still unbelievable just a tiny percentage of alcohol could get him drunk.

You shook yourself out of your surprised stupor and approached him, sitting down on the edge of the bed with burgundy sheets. “No, of course I wouldn’t leave you,” you reassured, and placed the basket nearby.

Diluc (very clumsily) crawled on bed, before his head ended up on your lap, where he buried his face. His hair was all messy, no longer tied and clearly unbrushed from all the struggle and whining. “I was so lonely…” he muttered.

“Oh really?” you asked softly, albeit teasingly, as you were getting somewhat amused. He’ll be fine and you knew it, he just needed to sober up. When you started brushing his hair with your fingers, he sighed like a content cat.

“So much… I love you…” he murmured against your legs and was falling asleep again. Your heart fluttered at his drunk yet honest words, and you allowed him to rest like this.

“Silly Diluc… you’ll be so embarrassed tomorrow,” you said to yourself and smiled.

Jing Yuan

As much as you loved Jing Yuan, you were starting to lose your mind when you had to take care of his sick-self. They kicked him out of his office after he’s been coughing the entire day. He might be a specimen of immortal race, but still managed to get sick.

The issue? He wouldn’t let you go for even a second. You want to use bathroom, prepare his medicine or grab food from the kitchen—he wouldn’t let you get up as he was forcing you down on bed to cling to you. He’s been clingy everyday but this was a new level of suffocating.

“Jing Yuan!” you scolded for what felt like a thousandth time, “You’re going to get me sick if you leech off of me like this!”

You got a whine in response, his pitiful looking face burying itself in your chest. “But sweetheart… I’m so sick, you should be there for your husband.” He coughed for emphasis—a gesture slightly manipulative, but one you were immune against. You knew better than to give in to his demands; refusing to end up infected. While he was gentle with you, he could be plenty of selfish as well, especially when it came to the person he wanted to spend the most time with.

“I won’t be there for you if I get sick too!” you argued. He looked up at you, his face slightly confused for moment (fever effect) only for realization to appear on his face. Yet it was ruined a moment later, his voice all sly, “That’s okay. It’ll mean you’ll have no choice but to rest with me.” He put his head on your chest again.

“What? Do you wish me misery? Are you this selfish, Jing Yuan?” You tried to pull away from him but he was not letting you go—even when sick, he had enough strength you wondered if he’s even that affected by flu. “Come on, I’m not selfish, I just can’t get better without you…” he pouted. “And if I get healthy first, it’d mean I have a chance to take care of you—”

His voice was cut off as you put a hand on his face, not willing to hear this nonsense anymore. Jing Yuan was about to brag about how much he’d love to have you all vulnerable and dependent on him, yet you were aware it wasn’t worth getting sick. “Darling, can’t breathe—” he protested with a muffled voice, and you realized if his nose was stuffy he can’t use his mouth to breathe. You let go of his face with a sigh, feeling almost guilty.

“Why do you have to be such a child when sick, huh?” you asked, sounding resigned. “I’m not childish, I just know that I need you. You’re the only thing that can help this poor man.”

In the end, you two found a compromise—you let him cling to you as long as he wears a mask. Jing Yuan felt like a muzzled dog when he was unable to smooch you, but it was better than nothing.

Dr. Ratio

Taking care of sick Veritas was easier than it should have been. This man simply knew what he needed, and your only job was to give him the required tools. He didn’t need to seek out a doctor either—with all the degrees he had he managed to swiftly diagnose himself and tell you what medication you needed to acquire.

But something was missing. It felt robotic to just hand him things he needed instead of actually taking care of him. You have given him a blanket, a water, a dinner, his pills; you adjusted his pillow—but what about some TLC?

Veritas asked you to stay away from the guest bedroom where he mercifully located himself at to not get you sick, however, you suddenly felt separated from him and experienced an odd need to watch over him, no matter how much you knew he got this. That’s why you were marching through the corridor to see him.

Knocking on the door, you heard no response, therefore decided to enter the room. You were met with a sight of Veritas sleeping peacefully—excluding a flush of his pale skin and sweaty surface. You were well aware you were risking getting sick yourself, but told yourself your immune system was better than some flu—hence you approached his bed, sitting on the edge. Your hand gently brushed his fringe back, exposing his forehead you decided to kiss.

Withdrawing, amber eyes were staring at you, almost scoldingly. You gasped as you felt startled. “Were you pretending to be asleep?!” you immediately accused, even if you got caught. A teasing smile is what you got in return.

“You’re quite predictable, dear. I heard you shuffling around my room for a while. I also have suspected you’d miss me eventually… and it doesn’t take a genius like me to guess.”

“Fine…” you said resigned and sat down on the edge of the bed, one with sheets looking all organized even when he was ill.

Veritas sighed, his voice somewhat softer, “You’re a silly one. Do you genuinely want to end up in the same state? It’d be counterproductive to take care of me just to end up with a virus yourself.”

“Of course not…” you scoffed. “It’s just… I don’t want you to suffer alone.”

“Suffer? That’s a rather dramatic statement,” he teased. “Are you that worried for me? Or were you the one feeling lonely?”

He got you there. “What if I was to say ‘both’?” you murmured almost shyly, receiving an amused chuckle in return. “You should know you’re not neglectful just because I can do everything on my own… but perhaps I can help you with your ‘separation anxiety’.”

“Now you’re the one being overdramatic, calling it separation anxiety,” you said, feigning annoyance. “But I’m listening.”

“You could help me bathe, wash my back and hair if my arms may be too exhausted. As long as I avoid coughing at you, you should be fine,” he proposed. The idea sounded good enough, as you’d be able to both help him and be near him… not to mention you could touch his godly physique.

Aventurine

Being busy watching TV, you were surprised hearing Aventurine enter your shared penthouse much earlier than usual. Even the sound of him undressing and moving around in hallway sounded more messy than his typical confident body language.

When you saw him enter living room, his face all happy at the sight of you, you couldn’t help but ask, “Welcome back. How did they let you leave so quickly?”

He smirked. “They had to kick me out.” Aventurine enjoyed the shock and slight annoyance on your face. Yeah, maybe he should feel ashamed, but he loved any reaction from you as long as no real boundaries were crossed—simply because he loved seeking attention from his favorite person.

“What did you do again?” you asked with narrowed eyes.

“Again? How cruel of you to assume it’s me who’s the problem!” he feigned disappointment and threw himself on the gigantic couch, right next to you. His arm rested behind your head, all comfortable.

“Come on,” you said more seriously. You knew him well. Maybe too well.

“I’m saying the truth, baby. I didn’t do anything this time. They forced me to leave because I’m sick. Didn’t want me to get everyone else sick too.”

That changed everything. “Sick?” He tried to not feel all cocky when he heard your voice suddenly sound worried. The fact that you cared so much about him made him feel all warm yet also foolish. “But you don’t really look sick…” For a moment you had a doubt but it was forgotten when you placed your hand on his forehead.

“Yeah. I had makeup applied for photos. I guess our makeup artist did a pretty good job,” he chuckled.

“Tsk, you sound too nonchalant about this. I don’t know how you can still walk when you’re burning with fever! Let’s go,” you said all serious, making him smile. However, he didn’t protest when you helped him get up. He’d get all the attention his dear would give him, even if he felt undeserving of your kindness sometimes. He’ll make sure to make it up to you later, even if it was a normal thing for someone to take care of their partner. He loves to spoil you regardless.

When you helped him change into more comfortable clothes, remove his makeup and lay down on his grey sheets, you felt him pull you down with him, his arms iron around your waist. He laughed at your startled yelp.

With you on top of him he was quick to try to take advantage of the position, his lips nearing yours with eagerness in his eyes. You didn’t let him win—your hand quickly clamped his mouth. “What do you think you’re doing, Aventurine?” you said somewhat sternly.

Aventurine licked your palm to tickle you as a way of scaring your hand off. “Come on, baby,” he teased, his voice clear as you had to take your hand off. “I missed you. Don’t you want me too?”

“It’s not about that! You’re supposed to be resting,” you scolded, making him sigh at your ‘tender’ care. You couldn’t believe he still had energy to screw around.

“I’m not that sick. At least not enough to not have so fun. I guess I find you attractive no matter how I feel.”

While his words flattered you, you were able to tell the consequences. “That’s very kind of you. I still don’t want to get sick,” you added bluntly.

Aventurine, “Fine, fine…” He finally let you go, feeling disappointed when you sat up on the bed.

When you helped him take some medicine soon after, he finally felt tired enough to find sleep enticing.

“Can I at least hold your hand? Since I don’t want to get you sick too,” he asked, almost bashfully at the vulnerable request.

“…Yeah.” You can wash your hand afterwards. For now, you’ll comfort him. That’s why your warm hand enveloped his.

He slept like a baby that evening.

#kamisato ayato x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #diluc x reader #jing yuan x reader #dr ratio x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr fluff #genshin impact fluff #aventurine x you #dr ratio x you #jing yuan x you #diluc x you #childe x you #hsr x reader #haniaistic—works.

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