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rkiveinmarvel · 2 months

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anatomy of hands and sake - roronoa zoro. (18+) des. angst-fluff-smut, wano arc. zoro finally woke up after the fight with big mom and kaido--he missed you. porn with plot. clothed sex. make up sex. unprotected sex (practice safe sex ppl) marking and biting>; soft sex, established relationship. soft!dom zoro, people being inlove, aftercare!! nsfw

notes. my propaganda: soft!zoro is canon zoro-again this contains smut (minors dni, pls) zoro big cock energy, mentions of wounds and stitches. F! Reader

hello. i had this idea for a while and yeah, here it is. it's my first time writing smut so, bear with me--n e way he might be ooc here but zoro is zoro and iluvhim. hiyori is mention as well tho-no hate to hiyori-luv that girl--livelaughlovemarimo

w.c: 3k (damn, zoro)

The infamous swordsman of the Straw Hat is known for his ability to stand his ground in any battle and situation, with one foot in front of him–he doesn’t hesitate to draw his sword if someone pisses off the crew. Saints forbid those who pissed off the swordsman because he will show no mercy and no hesitation, until it’s the captain’s orders—and an order from you.

It’s no secret that you and the straw hats were once against each other in the fight at skypiea but that fight is the fight Zoro hesitated to hold his sword—maybe because he’s finally facing a right hand of the so-called god or maybe you were fighting against your will or maybe—just maybe—he didn’t want to hurt you. He still remembers how you gripped your sword with such anger and shouting at them to leave the island to protect themselves—call it a warning or a sign but at that moment, Zoro wanted to save you; he was glad he did.

That was two years ago and here you are now waiting Zoro to wake up from his slumber after fighting Kaido and Big Mom. You reached for the damp towel as you wiped his worn-out body and slow heaving chest—Zoro looked peaceful when he sleeps, he always does, but moments like this you wish you can just see him working out at the crow’s nest, hear him argue with the cook, look out for Chopper, or just seat and listen to you.

This is what you hate the most every time a battle ended, the silence of waiting, hoping, and wishing that all of the crew members are okay—the unwanted fast paced heartbeat as you wished for them to be okay. You sighed deeply as you caressed Zoro’s face and continue to wipe his cheeks and dance your fingertips in his hair.

“Please, wake up…” You whispered lowly as you stare at this sleeping state and replace his old bandages with new ones. Once you finished cleaning him up—a small smile left your lips as you kissed his forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Morning after morning, the green-haired swordsman and the future king of the pirates are still asleep—with no luck, you decided to spend the night looking out for the two; which Chopper didn’t agree at first, but as Chopper felt the tiredness catching up in his body—he agreed.

Then, it was a week: a week of looking out for the two whilst also switching watching duties with the straw hat; but most of the time: you stayed there not wanting to switch with Sanji nor Nami as you hold Zoro’s hand muttering and wishing that he should wake up.

Usopp rushes in the hallway and knocked on the room where you stayed—with a loud voice he announced that Zoro and Luffy are awake. You two immediately rush into the room—your pounding heartbeat and the ringing in your ear didn’t stop you—he’s awake, Zoro is awake—you kept on repeating on your head—the two of them are alive and okay.

Hesitation floods in your mind as you stood by the door but soon was replaced when you hear cheers and a familiar laugh coming out from the room—as Usopp opened the door: there you saw him and Luffy.

You didn’t know when or how but Chopper was clinging and trying to stop Zoro as he chugs a huge bottle of sake. A smile escaped your lips as Luffy called your name in such glee, with a last chug, Zoro finally locked eyes with you: saints, he missed you. You gave him a relieved smile but somehow covered when Hiyori placed a bottle of sake in front of him in which he groaned. He moved the sake aside and watched you talk to Luffy—he should speak to you—but before he can speak, he felt hands of Hiyori creeping from behind.

“You were out for a week.” Brook explained as he drank and ate next to the crew.

“We aren’t dirty though.” Zoro stated as he eyed his hands.

“I cleaned you up.” Hiyori announced from behind him, earning a choke from Yamato, as Yamoto looks at you, as you catch his look—you chuckled in your cup as you drank sake. As Sanji and Zoro banters about Hiyori—you laughed at the sight—everything is okay, Wano is free, the crew are laughing, and Zoro is okay.

“We should have the banquet, today!” Momonosuke announces.

---As the entire people cheers, Zoro locked eyes with you once again, as you raised a cup signaling him for a cheer in which he nodded and gave you a cheeky smirk. For the time being, Nami have decided to take a bath, inviting you, Robin, Hiyori, and the others as well.

You leave the room as the boys continue to drink and eat—that until Zoro noticed that you’re no longer in the room he’s in—he stood up and left the room while also removing the bandages on his body because it restricts his movement as he walked.

You were preparing for the bath when you entered your room until you felt a familiar arm holding you from behind. It didn’t make you flinch nor scared, somehow, it comforted you. You hummed at the person who’s hugging you from behind.

You felt his chest on your back he holds you tighter. “You left early.”

“Nami invited us for a bath.”

“You didn’t talk to me.”

“You were busy drinking.”

He then let you go from his grasp and hold your shoulder to make you look at him. “Thanks for cleaning me up.” You smiled softly as you eyed him.

“Hiyori did.” I teased innocently.

“She did but you did it every day…”

“How can you say so?” He then holds your hand and placed it on his cheeks. “I know how your hand feels when you hold me, woman.”

As he placed your hand on your cheeks—he leaned in at the contact. “I’ve missed you, Zo.” You whispered lowly as you pulled him into an embrace, you settled in his chest as you listen to his heartbeat, beating pretty fast.

He hummed as you said those words as he fiddled with the strand of your hair as you hugged him. “That was pretty dumb, you know.”

That left him confused. “Law and Sanji told me what happened—that was dumb, Zoro.” He pulled away from the hug and noticed that some tears are threatening to fall from your eyes.

He wiped them away as he waited you to continue what you’re about to say. “You almost died.” In that moment, his heartbeat begins to beat faster: you were that worried.

“That was dumb because the way Law told me, it seems like you were ready to die---”

“I wanted to protect Luffy and you—”

His heart breaks as you shook your head. “Protect yourself too. I know you care about the crew but I don’t want to face this again—the fear of you not waking up, like in Thriller Bark? I know you don’t want to lose anyone but—I don’t want to lose you too.” Your hand shakes as you cup his cheeks again.

He grips your wrist and gave your wrist a ghost kiss, uttering a soft whisper that he can only hear. As he kissed your wrist, he just stared at you. He kissed your hand, fingertips; he kept staring at you.

As he looked at you with a soft gaze, he pulled you closer to him.

“I’m sorry.” He only follows Luffy’s orders but—somehow, even you’re not the captain—he follows you. “I’ll get stronger so, you won’t feel like you will lose me again.” He kissed your temples and wiped your tears, as you nodded.

He stared at you for a while and his eyes lingered in your lips. Without a warning, he placed his lips into yours as you taste the sake he drunk from before. He hummed in your lips as you reciprocate the kiss, he placed his hand on your nape as he was eager to pull you closer to him if that was possible, while your hands roam around his body.

His chest, neck, abdomen, arms, and biceps—it was explored by you—he pulled away as he settles his lips on your neck muttering your name while he does. Your hand fumbles his hair, as you hold him closer. He kisses and left marks on your neck, while indulge himself with your scent.

You tilted your head as you gave him more space as his hand traveled in your kimono, pulling it down softly. He pulled away from your neck as his hand travels in your kimono—slowly untying its knot. He whispered your name as low as he could: “Can I…?”

Your hand travels into his nape as you nod. “Use your words, doll.”

“Yes…Zo.” You hummed as he let his hand let loose of the knots in your kimono. “I fucking missed you.” He whispered lowly as his lips travel from your neck towards your collarbone.

“I was just here, Zo.” You felt goosebumps as his hand travels every inch of your body. As his breaths shallows and his lips relaxes on your collarbone and chest. You whimpered his name so low; he’s the only person hearing it. He let his clothes fall on the floor as he lay you down on the futon. But he clicks his tongue as he felt a sharp pain on his chest in which you immediately pulled away.

“We don’t have to---” He stared at you with flushed cheeks and half lidded eyes: as his eyes travels at everything that is you, he groaned and shook his head as he grabbed you by the hips switching your positions—making you straddle him. He smirked as he saw you on top of him with pride as he pulled you down for a kiss.

“I fucking want you.” He holds your hips as he moved you in a rhythm. He hummed as you gasped at the pace. “Been looking for you when I woke up.” You felt him so close, despite the small clothes keeping you two apart.

“You sure it wasn’t the sake?” You teased as you stopped your hips.

“Take it off…” He whimpered.

You never thought for a million of years that the pirate hunter would whimper under you—in hearing his plea: you take everything off your body including his: for a moment, the world seemed to stop as your hand travels into his new wounds. Your hand shakes as you saw new stitches.

Before you can say anything—he grabbed your hand that was tracing his new wounds. “Eyes up here, doll.” He said into your fingertips—but unknown emotion filled you as your lips find his wounds, you carefully kiss them as blush continue to travel around Zoro’s body.

“Oi…” He continues to repeat as you kiss his wounds. His gaze locks into you as you kissed him on his lower abdomen. He gave you a knowing look: “Come kiss me, woman.”

So, you did. His hand travels into your clit as he continues to kiss you—as he pulled away: he stared at your expression whilst you stare at him, breathless, blushing mess, and muttering his name every chance you get. As he finds the right time to slip his finger inside you and it made you gasp. “Fuck—so, fucking warm.” He whispered in your ear as his fingers continues to mark your inside.

He was slow in pace as if he was memorizing your sound, voice, expression, and your look. He kissed your temple as he feels you tightening up. “Great job…baby.” There are times where he lets himself be vulnerable and call you names, he thought he would never use.

But as your hips meet his hands—he groaned as he moved his hand in a pace where you find yourself gripping his biceps—with one last move, you came undone into his hand as he kissed your temple; “My girl…” he whispered as he felt you shiver in his touch—he pulled his hand away and he kisses his hand while staring at you.

You smiled and kissed him in his lips: tasting yourself in his mouth. “Better than any sake…” He whispered with a smirk as he continues to kiss your lips. He stared at you as his hand take hold of your hips once more as you aligned yourself into him—he slides his cock between your folds, he felt warm and you felt full.

“Relax…” You didn’t know how or why or maybe because of the orgasm you had earlier but at the same time he felt bigger. As you settle into his cock, you stayed there as he looks at you. “Babe…” He called you like a prayer—without saying anything, you knew what he wanted. He flipped your over so, he’s now on top of you.

“I got you—relax, doll.” He whispered in your ear as he stared at you. You pulled him for a kiss as he moves his body to meet yours. “Move…” He takes a short and slow thrust while he stared at your expression which let a small and deep growl out of him.

As his impatient character caught up to him—he starts to get faster; your head thrown against the futon as you moan his name is if that’s the only word you know. Your hands find his shoulder as you pulled him closer. You’re too perfect for him, your walls were made for him—he finds your neck as he continues to suck and bite on it as you hold onto his shoulder as his make your inside fit for him and only him. At this moment, your name was the only thing leaving his mouth as breathless pleas, whimpers, sound of skin, and moans left the room—tears were stinging in your eye, Zoro noticed it he stopped with the fear that maybe he was hurting you but—it’s different, he saw your tears and you were smiling, you pulled him again for a hug but this time your hips met his. “I really thought I lost you.” You whispered in your embrace.

That was his call—he holds you’re his hips as your legs wrapped around his waist—as his name left your mouth in a high-pitched whimper; he leaned in and kiss you once more. As he felt your walls claiming his cock again—he knew you were close and so was he; he reaches for your clit and move it with his thrust—without a second, you’re bound for the second orgasm from the hands of the swordsman. Your legs tighten up at his waist, as you arch your back and you feel yourself shakes. Your walls tighten around him as you keep saying his name.

As you keep saying his name, Roronoa leaned in and kissed your shoulder—for a moment, he swore, he wants to keep you like this; only like this. He fills you up with his cock as his bite into your shoulder; he twitched inside—but he didn’t pull out, reliving and enjoying the warmth settling inside you. His heaving chest and your breathless state; you stared at each other.

When you two catch your breaths, he pulls out as the both of you hiss at the loss contact. He kissed your inner thighs, chest, hand, head, and lips: uttering a thank you. His hand caress your inner thighs softly, as he kisses your temple over and over again.

Before you can say anything—he leans down and kisses your lips as you smiled at the kiss. “Still better than sake?” You teased at his kiss.

He nodded and kissed you deeper. “Still better.” You noticed that one of his stitches on his biceps were getting red—you’re scared that he can get infection— but he just laughed and pulled you into his chest. “I’ll get Chopper to check on it—in the meantime, let’s stay here.” His hands play on your hair as you listen to his heartbeat.

“I was supposed to be in the bath with Nami.”

“Hmmm…You could’ve push me away.”

“You’re lucky that I like you.”

“I know.” He nodded as he heaved a deep sigh. “Robin told me you didn’t went to sleep, when you’re looking out for me while I was out—don’t do that again, okay, doll?”

“Just promise me you won’t get yourself killed.” He nodded as he placed your hand on his chest and gently kiss it.

“You always kiss my hand…why is that?”

“I just like it. My hands are like filled with wounds and yours are soft, warm…” He kissed it again. “Mine…” He whispered. “You always hold me so softly.” He admitted.

You looked at him as you rest your chin on his chest. “Any person should be hold softly and nicely.” He chuckled and shook his head. “With these wound and the swords, I highly doubt I’ll be considered as a person.”

“What makes you think that…?” You frown.

“I’m a monster, woman, so, sometimes it surprises me that you stay—"

“Why do you think you’re a monster?” This time you sat up—he looked at you with a surprise look on his face a parallel to your caring look as his eyes travels on the marks he left in your body; he placed his hand on your shoulder.

“I don’t see any monster.” You hold his hand that is placed on his shoulder. He always kisses your hand—so, this time, you kissed his.

“I only see the person that I love.” You kissed his hand, in a delicate manner—as if he was a porcelain glass, a gift from above; he felt his eyes sting as he cleared his throat fighting the blush trying to settle on his cheek.

“The things you me feel woman—The things you make me feel.” He muttered as he pulled you down for a kiss. You smiled at the kiss as he places his hands on your cheeks, without a sign or a signal; he muttered those three words and eight letters with a small tint of blush on his cheeks.

“I love you too, Roronoa.”

-- FIN

holy shit--my first ever smut; if it sucks--i'm sorry :,> zoro the man that you are! trafalgar law is next and it's fluff--wano arc has me gripping all story ideas lmaooo

⚘ masterlist 1 | 2 | 3

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starshipsofstarlord · 17 days

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surrogate comfort

summary. daryl comes to your home, finding peace between your legs before you relieve his homeward bound struggles

warnings. smut (just a little fem!reader receiving oral), angst, mentions and descriptions of abuse, commitment, young!daryl

MINORS DNI (18+), I DO NOT CONTROL YOUR CONSUMPTION ON THIS BLOG 👻

divider credits. @cafekitsune

An undeniable sensation pooled in the apex below your abdomen, causing your eyelids to flutter slowly open from your slumber. Your brows drew firmly together as your mouth gaped wildly open, releasing silent sounds of pleasured expression. But you were forced by the consuming reality in your brain to push the face that rested against your thighs, and the heavenly lips that had already landscaped the area of your cunt in prior situations.

Daryl hadn’t fallen asleep beside you, he had sullenly returned to his poisonous putridity of his home the eve before, dreading his father’s exploitive rage. As much as you wanted to continue receiving the fantastic oral that he was perfectly tainting your body with, you were commended by your saint lifestyle to shuffle away, rejecting his efforts of keeping his face attached to your most intimate area.

“D.” You addressed him by the initial, reaching beside you to pull at the dangling string of your bedside lamp so that the bulb would create an ambience that would aid your eyesight, rather than squinting in his direction through the consuming darkness. Daryl melted his face in the tousled sheets that rested raggedly beside your legs, chewing anxiously on his bottom lip.

He just wanted to see you, and get lost in one of his all time hobbies so that he wouldn’t need to bring acknowledgment to the repetitive reason as to why he had snuck in your home with the key that you had gifted him in the dead of night. “Daryl… look at me honey.” With concern filled empathy, you combed through his brunette locks with your fingers, squeezing your thighs together so that he wouldn’t be able to visualise his sacred escape for the moment.

This was important, far more important than any sexual activity. It took him a couple of minutes to finally build up the strength to comply with your soft demand; you weren’t forcing him, he was well aware of that fact, however he resented skulking away from your embracing and delicate nurturing, and thus he drew his face upwards, his blue and bruised eyes connecting with your orbs that unfortunately did not hold shock.

His father was sadistically cruel, he never let up on a chance to unleash his pent up frustrations and anger out on his sons, it was why Merle had joined the military - to escape the man that had raised them without any aspect of love. It didn’t matter that you were half nude due to his skilful appearance, you shuffled down the bed towards him, crossing your legs as you brushed your fingertips across his shoulder that was clothed in a shirt made of tired fabric, and he restrained a wince.

“Oh honey.” You cooed, seeing a horizon of purples and blues and deepening greys that harshened his features. “You can stay here, for as long as you need. I’d hate for you to keep going back there, so…” You braced yourself to say the words aloud, aware that Daryl was a young man whom was easily shaken. “Why don’t you move in?” You would never hurt him, emotionally or physically, no matter what situation that you found yourselves in.

Your blood boiled like there was a stove interlinking your veins to your arteries as you thought of any man bringing such abuse upon their child, but especially horrid old William and his treatment of Daryl. The bruised son’s lips conveyed his emotions in a wobbling manner, as he allowed his well constructed walls to lower, and water glazed in his eyes. He held you, and sobbed, and sobbed, until he was all out of frustrated tears, and you knew then, he would be using that silver key every day.

#daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon oneshot #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon angst #daryl dixon fluff #daryl dixon fic #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl imagines

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nghtwngs · 5 months

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solace

description; After a long day, Nikolai finds relief in you.

pairing; king!nikolai lantsov x fem!reader

genre; smut, fluff, established relationship

word count; 1.8k

warnings; 18+, somno!! (which automatically makes it dubcon, so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable), reader is asleep for part of this but has consented (pls discuss boundaries with your partners guys), fingering, unprotected sex (a no no irl), cream pie, oral (fem-receiving), cum-eating, swearing, nikolai needs his own warning, christ this is kind of depraved (but also tender?)

notes; i have been thinking a LOT of thoughts lately. this is the first time i’ve ever written smut, so it’s probably terrible haha never thought i’d be writing anything explicit but i was not strong enough to resist this man. but i think this is a one and done type of thing. i do have a few other nikolai works in my drafts though, so if i ever get around to it, i’ll finish and post them

notes ii; i saw that s&b got cancelled :(( i’ve never seen it nor have i read any of the books… (sorry if nikolai is ooc) but hopefully i’ll get around to either of them eventually. mostly im sad bc there likely won’t be a resurgence in nikolai fics, and i already feel like i’m in a drought. i mean look at him!! (i <3 gif makers)

Nikolai is exhausted.

It’s late when he returns to his chambers. His mind is still filled with all the tasks he had performed that day while thinking about all the ones left for tomorrow. But his eyes had grown too bleary while staring at a document (a trade agreement perhaps?), reading the same line for the hundredth time before he was finally lured by the idea of slipping into bed with you. He was hoping he would come back before you went off to bed, but it was already well into the night, and you would be asleep by now. He enters your shared room and finds you sleeping the night away.

He’s not sure how you do it. He thinks the bed is much too big to sleep in alone and can no longer slip into a restful slumber without you. When Nikolai catches a glimpse of your face, soft and relaxed—not a worry in sight—his heart flutters. A smile curls his lips at the sight of you while he changes out of his clothes for the day.

Once he frees himself of his shirt and trousers, he slips on a soft pair of pants. He makes it towards the foot of the bed, noticing that the comforter was no longer tucked in. Instead, it pools around your calves. You’re laying on your side, hands tucked beneath your head. His hazel eyes stick onto the expanse of your skin, and before he realizes it, his fingers are delicately wrapping around your leg. You’re cold to the touch. He makes a move to cover your skin with the rest of the comforter.

However, you’re more enticing than you realize. He tells you so often. You find it difficult to believe, but it’s just the plain truth, and Nikolai is an honest man.

Most of the time, of course.

With a small breath, Nikolai pushes the blanket further up, revealing more and more of your legs. His eyes, tired but greedy, devour the sight. When he reaches past your thighs, his lips part when he realizes that you’re completely bare. You must have been waiting for him.

He nearly groans.

You had given him your explicit permission to do this before, but Nikolai had never been given the opportunity. Until now. Is this what you were hoping for when you fell into the land of dreams? Saints, the thought sends blood rushing down to his cock.

Your slit is now exposed to the cool air, and you squirm a little. His eyes glance up at your face, wondering if he had already woken you. No matter though, he wouldn’t mind having you either way. His fingers dance along your thighs, edging closer to your cunt. You’re gorgeous, he thinks before running a finger over your soft folds. When he reaches your hole though, he feels a familiar stickiness. Had you already touched yourself? Was that how you were able to fall asleep in this bed that was much too large for just one of you?

He collects some of your release on his finger. There’s not a lot that hasn’t already dried, but just enough to start circling your clit without too much friction (with some help from his saliva). He hears you breathe in deeply as he draws lazy circles with his finger. With his other hand, he palms himself through his pants, already hardening from both the sight and feel of you.

Part of him wants to see the rest of you, but he doesn’t want to leave you cold. He wonders if you’re wearing anything at all—the answer is likely not. It’s not long before you’re wet enough, and he’s able slip two entire fingers into you. You’re already clenching around his hand, a soft whimper leaving your pretty lips.

Nikolai could come from this alone.

You squirm again, unknowingly beginning to grind into his hand. Nikolai watches your lips part, the prettiest sounds escaping your mouth. You’re nearly there. He can feel you tightening around his fingers, but he won’t let you come just yet. Right before your peak, he takes his fingers out of you. Your legs shake as he rubs the skin of your thigh soothingly.

He shrugs off his trousers, stepping out of them and freeing himself. The tip of his cock is red, and he uses his fingers to smear the pre-cum around it. He groans slightly as he pumps himself. With little patience left, he lines himself up with your entrance and lets out a soft sigh at the feeling of your wetness.

He drags his cock through your cunt, gathering your arousal. He slips into your warmth with a sharp exhale, feeling your tight, wet walls squeezing him. Nikolai has half a mind not to curse, not wanting to wake you. He holds the side of your leg with his hand and fights the urge to shut his eyes. He holds himself still for a few moments, and yet they feel like an eternity.

He wants to watch himself slide in and out of you. He pulls his hips back until only the tip of him is left before pushing back into you deeply. Nikolai starts a steady rhythm, pleasurable but slow enough to keep him from spilling into you too quickly.

A whine leaves your mouth, your face scrunching at the feeling of being stretched and filled. “N-nikolai?” Your voice is raspy and filled with sleep as your hand reaches up to rub your eyes. You can barely keep them open. It’s adorable. His cock hits a sensitive spot, causing you to moan out. “Shit.”

“Darling,” he greets as if he’s not buried deep inside you. He grins down at you and starts to thrust into you faster.

Nikolai beams when a bright laugh comes from your lips.

“This is a surprise,” you murmur, grinding down onto him.

“A pleasant one, I hope?”

“Very. When did you get back?”

“Not long ago… I wanted to finish everything before you fell asleep, but there was a lot of work left to do. I saw you looking just lovely in our bed and decided to surprise you.”

You smile sympathetically, knowing how busy your king is. The blanket, which was bunched up over your torso, is moved to the side by you, exposing the rest of your body to his eyes. He’s right. You aren’t wearing anything at all. You turn onto your back and reach down, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m glad you did. Though I do think some rest is in order for you. You look terrible.”

He scoffs, sounding bewildered at the notion that he could look anything less than perfect. “Terrible? You wound me, wife.”

“Only for the sake of keeping you humble, my king.” You let out a chuckle which bleeds into a moan when he thrusts into a particular spot.

“There?” he asks, pushing into the same place once more.

Pleasantly, you sigh with a nod. “And I only meant ‘terrible’ in the sense that you look exhausted. Otherwise, I suppose you’re pretty perfect.”

A soft smile takes over his features. “I know, darling.”

You moan his name, pulling him down into a kiss. “You feel so good.”

He returns your kiss, grunting at how tightly your walls are clenching around him. His fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles. You cry out, and he swallows your sounds with another kiss.

“That’s it,” he coos as you bury your face in his shoulder.

“Nikolai,” you gasp. “I’m so—so close.”

“I know, darling. It’s going to feel so good. Let me take care of you.”

Nikolai feels your lips pressed against the column of his throat, placing wet kisses to his skin.

“Saints, please… I need you. I want you to fill me.”

He lets out a heavy groan, his eyes nearly rolling back as he moans out your name. “Don’t worry, I promise I will. Fuck, you’re so tight.” Nikolai begins to babble. “You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well… sound so pretty, so, so warm. Perfect… Shit, I’m close. You have to come first—Can you do that for me? Good girl.”

His fingers move even faster while he fucks himself into you. Your release hits you quickly as he pounds his length into your sopping cunt. You tighten around him, causing his hips to stutter before he finally spills himself inside of you. You whimper, feeling his hot cum fill you.

He collapses onto you, his cock still inside your spasming warmth. He wraps his arms around your body. It’s like he’s melted into you. You hold him close, both of your chests heaving. One of your hands finds a home in his blond curls, running your fingers through them in a way that always soothes him.

“I love you.”

He grins into your skin, pressing a kiss to your bare chest. “I love you too.”

A few minutes later, he pulls out, leaving you emptier than either of you would like. He stares down at your puffy lips, watching his cum drip out of you. In a daze, his fingers rub his release around your folds, eliciting a soft whine from you. He doesn’t know whether he wants to push it back inside you, to fill you up again, or to clean you up with his mouth.

He thinks all three would be agreeable.

Nikolai leaves a trail of kisses down your chest, stopping at your entrance. “Will you let me clean you up, darling?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You don’t mean with your mouth, do you?”

“C’mon, I haven’t gotten to do this in ages—and it’s my favorite. Let me taste you, love.” He says this between several kisses to your thighs.

You pull him closer, cupping his face with your hand and thumbing his cheekbone. “I just want to make sure you’re getting enough sleep, Kolya. You’re going to be so tired in the morning.”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassures you, “and even better if you let me do this.”

He tries to stifle a grin. You’re unable to resist him or deny him of anything he wants, and he likes to exploit this fact from time to time. Alright, perhaps all the time—especially when what he wants is you. Who were you to keep him from his heart’s desires?

You sigh in defeat. “Okay, fine, but you’re sleeping in with me all morning.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he answers, knowing just as well that he couldn’t say no to you either.

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips before he wraps them around your clit. He delights in the noises you make. Your legs nearly close around his head, but he places his hands on your thighs, keeping them spread. He licks between your folds, moaning at the taste of your shared release.

Nikolai looks up at you, meeting your gaze with a devious grin. “Darling, you taste delightful.”

“Nikolai,” you whine. “Please.”

The desperation in your voice is enough to make him hard again. He smiles, a softness in his eyes as he admires your blissed face. “Anything for you, darling,” he answers, putting his mouth back on your cunt, doing whatever he can to draw out those pretty noises from your lips again.

#posting this and running away #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov smut #nikolai lantsov fluff #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine

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notesofseptember · 16 days

Text

Are you happy?

Not really, no

#crush #crush!#saint slumber #Spotify

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wonderwound · 4 months

Video

youtube

Saint Slumber - Doomy

#Saint Slumber #Saint #Slumber

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altarrot · 1 year

Text

BOUND TO RABIDITY.

ao3 issue.

synopsis: loved raw and confined in hostage, you're stuck in a situation beyond nightmares - but it's more dreamlike than anything. author's note: thank you guys for so much love on the first part??? i just had to give y'all another part

[ ♡ ] pairing: killer!simon "ghost" riley + fem!reader

[ ♡ ] genre: smut, dark content

[ ♡ ] warnings: (very tamed) stockholm syndrome-ish, slight emotional manipulation, mentions of pregnancy, hostage situation, touch-starved reader, age difference, mild comfort, unprotected sex, praise kink, pet-names, oral sex (male receiving), rough sex.

PART 2/2 | PART 1

You were on the brink of hysteria. A confined hysteria with complications of dream-like and strayed. It was complex; the whole situation easy to be taken advantage off and revolved in the right ways. Though, you were unsure on why you had let that man in the balaclava dispossess your virginity, and afterwards let him lift you in his arms, only for your eyes to give out on themselves and descend into a slumber of exhaustion — only to be restored to a whole, new surrounding that built-up around you.

Settled on bared mattress with a sting at your collar — and the larger, warmth of a body resting before your eyes, a frailness is received in your limbs once again. You were afraid of him, obviously, but couldn't help but sought solace in the man. Even in slumber, he still refuses to strip himself of the mask, the only discernible difference was the two closed slits of his eyes — blonde lashes based onto his pale skin of faint black. The only thing you were able to do is stare at his drowsing condition, remarking his features still caked of brown, dried blood while the stench of vague cigarette smoke and some iron flooded at your nose.

Tucking your arm under your laid head on the teared pillowcase, you shift yourself, now fully facing him with dozens of inquiries consuming at your head. Why would he make the conscious decision of taking you away, laying you like on his supposed bed like a lover rather than locking you in some rusting basement? (That's what you had always assumed what happened when a person was taken hostage.) But it was nothing of those imaginations, those violent and inhuman imaginations were more decent — lenient and civilized.

Examining him, there was some beauty found between his brutal nature. Blonde lashes, athletic physique, and a sight of tattoos that peered under his tactical jacket that were slightly bunched up to the forearm. It seemed almost insane to envision a serial killer like this, as if he were some sort of saint, some heroic figure to you, but it was almost impractical not to.

In the midst of observing him, his eyelids flicker open, ditches of dark-brown impaling into your stare. There's some guilt situated in those ditches, but a mass of it was just some tedious; monotone and somber. You both were only able to bring yourselves to stare at each other, liable and imprecise to how either brought themselves to this situation. (Even though a majority of it was at his fault.)

You rid of your parched throat. "Ghost, you know... I really do like you," you said, "...I think you're the sweetest guy in the whole world."

He stiffens. "But why me?"

"You've given me the affection a guy has never given me before."

"I'm a lowlife murderer, honey." he mutters, "Nothing special about me."

"I know that, but — I can't help but bring myself to love you."

With all honesty, your confession seems non-genuine; too much of a mock since you've only become acquainted with him since the hours of last night. But it comes out as pure, raw truth — that you really do love that man, you love a man with murderous intent on the run. He's drained in your presence, at a loss of words and unable to dispense you with a convenient response. Even in the former times in serving in the military as a lieutenant before he evolved into a loathsome cutthroat, remnant sensations of love were futile to him.

Nausea overburdens you out of the blue. Possibly from the aftereffects of your plain confession, leaving you to feel flustered at the fervent words.

He lifts a stiff arm up from his side and props it on your cheek, fingers fondling your face in tenderness. A low rasp of a sigh heaves from his clad face. Your eyes close, indulging in his comforting touch, familiar with his circular motions he presses your skin in with. You're disoriented off reality; closed-off and limited to only him, like he was your savior, only hope in a lifetime at this point.

It was thought to be a one-time thing. Latent emotions that preceded into intercourse, but never into a full-time-sort-of relationship resulting in finding sanctuary in a run-down home — his run-down home, or perhaps some kind of affordable one-night motel. Nonetheless, it wasn't as bad as expected, just perplexing and coming to you in overwhelming waves.

"You're just putting yourself in danger, love," he remarks, "You know that I love you too, but, it's a hazard to be involved with me."

Your doe eyes gaze down at him. "So be it, I don't care." you said, sitting up and leaning up the headboard, "I like being involved with you."

Ghost makes the decision to just give into you; your stubbornness and refusal to his objections not dissolving anytime soon. Even so, you were so obedient to him, so willing to comply with his bloodthirsty motives — so what would be so bad about having you as an advocate at his side, like a partner or a wife that acts in company with her psychotic husband.

"Fuck, okay, that's my girl," he said with a small doubt, "You going to stay by my side forever?"

"Anything for you, I'm yours forever."

He slopes upwards to give you a kiss. "I know you will, so good, huh?"

You nod, a smile tainting your lips.

"That's right," he fully sits up alongside you, but steps off the mattress onto two stable feet, "I'll be in the bathroom, just doll yourself up whenever, okay?"

And that's when he abandons you. Abandons you on the now-known singular motel bed, curtains crowding the panels of the window, bulbs of lamps at each side the only source of light given in the room. The sound of the bathroom's lock clicks, following the running water of the shower slamming against the floor. You sit in the atmosphere for a few minutes, aimlessly watching the box of a television run through some talk-show, arms linked around your legs that were bent and met with your chest.

The skin of your cheek presses to your knee, eyes lingering at the ceiling which was lined with bumps. You didn't entirely hate your new lifestyle with Ghost, even though you deserted your parents as a whole, leaving them worried to your whereabouts; you just needed a break off everything. Your parents, your regular life, the continual reminders of the serial killer situation. (Even though you were practically in love with the man behind it all, running away with him essentially.)

Unless you were naive and only stuck to him like a case of Stockholm Syndrome, then that would make more sense; but it really didn't feel like that was the case, there was a genuine, conscious love that you deepened in your heart for him. You thought of yourself as nothing to him, just some stress-reliever he comes across and fucks in the middle of the woods, predicting for him to brutally murder you afterwards and leave your rotting corpse right at the very stump he took you on.

But marking his own words of you being special, all those illusions and predictions were slipped from your mind. Knowing that you were special, his special girl, you couldn't help but tolerate yourself to fall for him. With the affection he gave you that night, whether a fraud or not, it's the most another person has ever given you; a deep consolation was discovered in him after that.

The lock of the bathroom sounds a noise to be opened, door swaying open as Ghost came out with only a towel at his waist — mask naked to your two eyes that readjusted to him. His hair was no different than the shade of his lashes, dirty blonde, and short while his two eyes were given structure; a moderately sharpened jaw with a few scars littering his skin, a light stubble coating at the edges of his face. His chest was sturdy with a prominent lines of bulging abs and a v-line lined with a trail of hair, biceps hefty with the left one nearly covered with ink.

Your pupils dilate at the sight, wandering over his displaying form, finding him as equally handsome with the balaclava on. He comes over to you and settles on the foot of the bed, sinewy back muscles facing you. You take the chance to crawl across the mattress; positioning yourself at his side as you rest your head at his shoulder with your arms clung around his torso. He smells of a masculine scent; some cologne and shampoo used to freshen up from the reek of cigarette smoke and metallic crimson.

He eases up at your touch, his own head tilting to rest against yours. For the first time, you feel in love. You worship him like a lover, supply him off the affection he once gave you, touch him with intentions of a good heart.

"How long do we stay here?" you ask, against his head, "Unless you only paid for a one night stay."

"I can pay off for a couple more days, rest here, we don't really have anywhere to go."

"Sounds good."

One of your arms unhinges itself from around him to trace at the muscles of his back, a spread palm smoothing over and a finger often prodding at the flesh.

You bite your lip. "Is there a first-aid kid in here?"

"Saw one near the sink, why? You hurt?"

"Well," you point a finger to the fresh wound at your collarbone, not that fresh, but still to the limit of being a red tint, "From last night, and I feel a little nauseous."

"Oh fuck, I'm sorry," he said, turning in place and lifting you in his arms, treading back to the bathroom where he sat you on the lid of the toilet, "Stay still."

Ghost searches through a cabinet, gathering the small box of white and a red cross, unlatching it. He searches for a bandage patch and antiseptic, placing the two items of the counter. Leaning down, still half-naked and draped in only a towel around his waist, he dabs at the wound he caused with a cotton ball — antiseptic stinging with the exposed tissue. Your jaw clenches and teeth gnash against each other until the cotton is drawn away from you."

"Sorry, honey, I know it hurts," he reassures, "I just need to wrap it."

"Okay." you said.

His slender, thick fingers are like touches of tranquility — calming yourself from the persistent sting established in the wound caused of his own blade. You peer at him while he assists you, a strain of focus on his face, handsome even with the faint scars painting his face; his teeth bites at his lower lip in a focus, eyes widened yet squinting from time-to-time.

The bandage patch sews up your wound and he draws himself away by a few inches. He cocks his head for a second before it straightens back up on the base of his neck.

"There, all better?"

"Much better. Thank you."

He chuckles, shaping his lips into yours for a brief kiss.

"Ghost." you mumble his name.

"What?"

"Can we do it again?"

At first, he's completely oblivious to what you're referring to, but figures it out within a few reruns of what you could mean.

"You want to have sex again?"

Your fingers clutch at the edges of the toilet lid with a tiny pressure. "Yes, I was just wondering... since you made my first time feel like heaven." you said, "But it's okay if you don't want to."

"Oh, angel," he shifts himself back in his leaning, standing in front of you, "How could I say no to such a pretty girl like you?"

Without another word, he has your lips shaping into his for much longer, with tongue and sloppy flows. You capture his face in both of your palms, pulling him closer into you, whines escaping and devouring into his mouth. His face feels so much better to hold without cloth separating you from it, fingertips swiping over most of the scars. Large hands rest at your waist and squeeze, brain already numb and foggy at only his mouth and hands.

You slide from the seat of the lid to the floor, upper-half resting at the wall of the bathtub as he's given more easy access to move up your body. His body sculpted like a marble statue situates between your thighs that automatically spread for him on command, the cold of the bathroom floor tiles making you shiver as it nudges at the backs of your bare legs.

Your hands cling to his chest and feel up his abs, his lips still devouring you.

"Ghost, wait."

He parts from you. "What's wrong?"

"Can we try something different?" you ask, "I want to give you pleasure this time."

"You want to suck me off?"

"Yes."

His eyes scrutinize you before he obliges, switching positions with you; him sat up at the wall of the bathtub while you sat on your heels between his muscular legs.

"Are you sure about this, sweetheart? You really don't have to." he said, hesitant.

You offer him only silence as you tear the towel at his waist off of him, inclining yourself down with an arched back, lips pursing around the blunt head of his cock. He grunts and drops his head back, teeth bared with a flat palm at the top of your head. You struggle to take his entire size and girth down your throat within the first few supports of your mouth, competent to only the first few inches, but you eventually reach the base of his cock — swallowing and taking in him whole.

For the first time of sucking someone off, you're pretty proficient at it, being able to satisfy him with his full cock down your throat — tip bulging a little at the back. His noises each time you slide your mouth down him are a type of nirvana; raspy groans right into your ear or a deep grunt originating from the depths of his chest. Tears edge at your waterlines in a suffocation.

"You're doing so good, sweetie," he breathes, "Taking me like the good slut you are."

A muffled moan around his size is earned from his praising words.

"You going to let me cum down your pretty, little throat?"

"Please, yes." you said, gagged around him.

With your tongue running up each protruding vein that collects at his cock and your movements growing increasingly faster, a knot in his stomach begins to form, a sensitivity at his cock heightening.

Your hands find purchase at his thighs, body arching impossibly farther upwards as you press your thighs together with a pulse starting up at your cunt. The cotton of your newly-put-on panties were moist, already stained much like last night when he had a knife threatened to your throat. Noises of gagging and more often grunts were deluging the bathroom, dragging down the thin walls and right back to you.

The hand in your hair is tight, his head fully thrown back with eyelids screwed shut, and his mouth is expanded out. His chest hauls with every heavy breath he takes, sweat sheeting over his skin; a gloss glistens off his skin, reflecting with the lights of the bathroom overhead.

Ghost curses aloud while his hips stutter, pausing to stay in the profound stance where his seed floods into your mouth and down your throat. His supporting hand serves as a way to keep you right where he wants you to be; cock wholly down your throat and forcing you to swallow the spurts of white — which you gratefully swallowed. You retreat back and rest your head on his one of his thighs, attempting to catch your breath, as his right hand rests at your head and pats your hair down.

"You did so good, doll," he pants out, head bowed down where you rested on his thigh, "And for your first time too."

A dazed smile is given to him across your lips, soiled with a few marks of his cum.

"Are you sure you still want to continue?" he asks, concerned about your exhaustion.

You nod slowly. "I want to feel you again, you make me feel so loved."

A short break is given from sucking him off, enabling more stamina to build up. He no longer scents of masculine cologne; but also sweat, sticky sweat that combined with your own, even through the dress you were still clothed in from the previous night. With enough rest taken, Ghost shifts positions back with you; you're back against the bathtub while he spreads your thighs for you, perching between them.

His fingers flow up your thighs; the callous skin tickling your softer flesh as he flips the skirt of your dress up, lifting it over your head. He then rips the fabric of your bra and panties off from your sticking skin, leaving you as bare as he was. A whine draws from you at the sudden frigid temperatures.

Immense hands rest around your legs, placing them at his shoulders. You're laid on the bathroom floor instead of against the bathtub, giving more flexibility and access to him. The head of his cock finds itself resting at your sopping entrance, a low whimper falling from your lips. A heat in your face rises; heartbeat through your chest and going to impossible speeds.

"You want this again, lambie?" he asks through his teeth, "You want to be fucked by a murderer? Have your needy pussy filled?"

"Please!" you said of desperation, "I need you so bad, love you inside of me."

Self-restraint was impractical, which is why he was unable to hold back, sheathing himself up inside of you. Your limbs bring themselves to twitch at the first thrust, an audible whimper brought from your throat. His hips initially snap slowly against yours; ultimately hastening once he accommodated to your usual tightness. The heat of his body warms your own, cold and naked in contact with the tiles of the floor.

Your extended legs at his shoulders lose balance, collapsing to his waist, instead enclosing on his waist. Fingers grope at any available portion of your delicate anatomy, skin fondled in and caressed. Through languorous visions, the man's head appears to tilt half-way, the bottom of his jaw visible in a clamped built, his sweat-radiance chest stuttering with non-consistent breaths. You writhe underneath him — your cunt progressing to a fragile condition, producing perceptible noises in addition to his cock ramming up your inner-walls.

Specifically like Ghost, your head is left to be thrown back; not against the ventilation air of the room, but at a hardened ceramic that bumps the back of your head each time. You're fucked-out, lightheaded within the very couple of aggressive thrusts he gives your cunt. The blunt head of his cock pounds at your cervix with some compounded vigor; torn moans and whimpers bleeding without shame from your mouth, benefitting him. Forging him as more carnal, rabid.

"Ghost," you sob, "Fuck me harder."

He dips his head to you. "You want me harder, baby?"

"Anything, please — harder, faster, anything..."

He uses his already-dipped head to kiss at your scalp, posture adjusting, spine rigid. His stance of composure results in more hostile rams into your cunt, pounding you with your back arched off the tiles of the ground. At this pace, you almost forget whose fucking you; causing you to go brain-dead, to give into so much bliss. You almost forget you're desiring for a serial killer to fuck you, painting him the picture of a perfect man — a man of innocence and instead uses his skill of vigilance picked up from his position in the military.

You're impossibly tight at his cock, compact and compressing that earns a low grunt from his breath. He's giving you a few more last thrusts of aggression, harmonies of whimpers and grunts, the atmosphere of sex fogging up the mirror above the sink, the porcelain of the tub and metals of the faucets. Nails dig into both his forearms, tugging at his tattoos and unadorned muscle.

The sense of thick liquid splatters at your walls, a sweltering heat generating a feeling to squirm in the arrangement which he held you in, brawny hips motionless at yours. Ghost slumps above you and remains in you, plugging him inside of you to sustain his seed. You bend upwards to where his face hung; lips pressing kisses of fondness to his nose, to his scarred cheeks, and to his lips. His breaths are felt at the flesh of your own face — hot, and scented of cigarette smoke and a minty taste.

You swallow. "I'll love you forever, Ghost," you said, arms looped at him in an embrace, "I mean it. I really do. My heart is yours."

"And I'll make sure you're mine forever," he whispers against your scalp, "Nothing will separate us."

Forwarding to the sedate dusk, mid-dusk where the sky brushed with shades of nights and sunlight, you were still bound to that familiar motel room. Ghost was on the foot of the mattress, caked with blood once again, combat boots rested at the carpet of the room. He was hunched over, silent, staring at the running late-afternoon television. You sat in a nightgown obtained from the motel's laundry room, stolen, and similar to the dress you wore with your first encounter with him — lace, white, and dangling to the limits of your thighs. Observing Ghost, he was no longer gentle.

His appearance of blood, black, and masked was returned what he really was; a murderer, a monster. It made you feel nauseous again. A hand trails over your clothed stomach of lace, lowering onto the aching region. You wanted to tell him, but didn't want to cause a riot, so you only manage to impose yourself to shove off the bed, steadying on two legs with your hand still over your stomach. He takes notice of the bed sinking, then un-sinking when you're seen to be standing near the bedside table.

"What's wrong with you?"

His voice is gruff, raspy — but attempting a soft and tender approach when gazing over at you.

"I feel sick," you said, "Headache and my stomach hurts."

"You need help?"

"Maybe," you bite your tongue,"Yes."

He throws the bloodied switchblade he toyed with between his hands on the mattress, standing up, and treading to over where you were; using his customary procedure of hoisting you into his arms and supporting you in a bridal pose. It's more comfortable this way anyways, with the pain in your stomach becoming moderate, using him as a prop to rest on.

You're sat on the edge of the tub, him on the toilet seat lid.

You breathe, preparing to respond with the one thing you wish is fabricated, false — but there is no denying that it could be the one thing that's making you feel this way.

"Do you think I'm pregnant?"

Ghost stares. "Pregnant?"

"Yeah, I mean, we had unprotected sex two times," you stutter on your breaths, "No condoms, no birth control."

"Fuck."

"It could be worse. Could've been some sexual-related disease. Herpes."

Whirling himself around in place, he rummages through the nearest cabinet, tossing a few hand-towels and sanitary items aside, sometime finding a rectangular box in design of a pregnancy test. He faces back to you, holding the box in a fist, eyes sincere and perturbing.

"You take one of these, I'll be right outside."

The box is fixed in your own fist as he stands, exiting the bathroom with the door shut behind him. It's apparent that he's only right outside the door; heavy breaths and frequent thumps of his body against the wall. You swipe your tongue across your lips before biting at your lower one. As a majority of everything was going along great with him, one of your worst fears was at a near-possibility of coming to a factual reality.

Taking a couple of minutes to understand the instructions, taking it out off the box, utilizing it as you struggle with the ache at the pit of your stomach. For the duration of wait-time, you sit with your lip bit, rocking back and forth on the edge as your eyes fixed on the plastic object.

Waiting time took minutes, almost felt like months, years; a nerve struck in you.

And when it concluded, you swear you felt your heart drop to your stomach, veins running of blood — a cold sweat escaping at your forehead.

A whine inside of your mouth imploded. A hand over your mouth, head spiraling in circles. Your hand free of the test is at your forehead, a palm splayed over. Tears stop dead at your lower lids, eyes only glossy and glistening under the light, droplets reflecting of the worst possibility that was held in your hand. You can only manage a distinct whimper of his name, turning your head towards the door, watching as it slowly opens; Ghost bursts himself inside and rushes on his two legs when he perceives the physical emotion of distress on your face.

His arms come to wrap at your head, swaddling you, dragging you to the floor with him. Breaths of hyperventilation are decorated into his chest while he holds you close to him — one hand into your hair, the other holding up at your back. His head is held to yours, feeling his masked chin rest at your forehead, hand in your hair stroking in comforting motions. You're laying at his chest.

"I don't... I don't know what to do." you said, voice trembled.

"Honey, look at me," he said, both his hands clinging to your face, forcing to look up at him, "Right here."

You stare him in his mask holes of eyes.

"What are we — I —going to do?"

"Well, there's two of us, right?"

"...Yeah."

"So, we can both work together for the child," he suggests, "Like how we work together right now. Partners in crime, you know?"

"But, I don't know if I want it..."

"Think of it as a reminder. A reminder to how much you love me, you want to stay with me forever, just like you said."

"I guess you're right." you muttered, comforted and easily swayed by his words.

"Of course I am," he said into your scalp, "I did say nothing would separate us, after all."

#ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost x female reader #ghost smut #simon riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x you #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x female reader #cod mw2 #cod mw2 fanfic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #female reader

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pearlywritings · 1 year

Text

The birth of the Dawn and the Dusk

synopsis: You planned your husband’s birthday months ago and even so something happens to not go according to the script.

pairing and characters: Diluc x fem!reader, your twin sons Rufus and Lucas, Alberich family (Kaeya, his wife and daughter Callie), Adelinde

tw: established relatioships, domestic moment, pregnancy stuff, fluff, a little bit hurt/comfort

word count: 10.8k+ words

author’s note: so late for my man’s birthday,,, But I am happy this one is finally out! Also there is a surprise at the end of the fic~ Hope you’ll enjoy everything!!!

Family AU masterlist

You feel so tired. Body aches and eyes hurt - you barely managed to fall asleep tonight, keeping your husband awake too to coax you into a state of slumber. This also added emotional stress, the clawing guilt for depriving him of sleep right before such a meaningful and happy day, but the man kept lovingly reassuring you that he didn't mind and would support and comfort you always, especially now, when you are so vulnerable, just days away from welcoming your baby into this world.

Diluc was nothing but a saint throughout both of your pregnancies. However, while the first one was challenging for him too, because he was worried about the new role he'd have to fulfill and if he'd do it successfully, this one was easier on his end, so he channeled all his energy to you, being there for every step and every time you got overwhelmed, which, at first, happened way too often. Your other two kids used to be all over you asking questions about their unborn sibling, and while you love your angels to death, you truly do, - your hormones and their vigor sometimes created a bad mix. Luckily, it quickly got better, because Diluc took his time to explain to your boys why their mommy might be emotional or look really really tired, and that she isn't upset with them and they need to be more careful around her. After that, the three of them became your anchor, with boys cuddling to you quietly to soothe and console you every opportunity they had, and Diluc arranging everything for your utmost comfort.

With all of this you were determined to make this year's celebration of his birthday as amazing as every other you two shared. You weren't sure if you would have given birth already or still heavily pregnant when the 30th of April came, but you knew that in any outcome you'd be too exhausted to arrange anything. That is why you started your meticulous planning half-way into your pregnancy. Everything was a secret from Diluc, just as always, and he oh so tenderly smiled, whenever you tried to hide the notes you were making, only teasing you by stepping closer and hugging you from behind. But he was a fair man, he never glanced at your scribbles and plans, only burying his face in your hair and asking to stay like this with you and the baby for a little bit. It actually helped you to concentrate a little bit better.

In March the final version of your plan was already passed to the maids who'd be responsible for organizing and decorating, and you couldn't help but feel pride when they giggled and excitedly murmured upon checking your instructions. You did a great job.

But you must've also done something bad, if whatever gods of fertility above made it their goal to mess with your sleep schedule - the baby is way too active, keeping you awake at an ungodly hour, just like tonight. So exhausting…

You can feel movements behind your back and a moment later a pleasant warmth is spreading all over your stomach and back. A soft whine escapes your lips, but it’s quickly shushed by a quiet murmur next to your ear.

“Shh… My flame, it’s okay, I got you…” You hug a pillow in front of you tighter, burying your face in it, letting your husband cuddle to your back, keeping his palm spread over your bump. He always knows when the baby gets cranky, sometimes even before you feel it, ready to calm down both of you with the help of his presence and vision.

Pretty soon you feel comfy again, surrounded by pillows and a literal heater of a man, who peppers soft kisses along your bare shoulder. His heavy bangs tickle your skin, prompting the corner of your lips to twitch in a shadow of a smile; an arm, wrapped around your middle, doesn’t put any weight on your waist, perfectly controlled by sheer strength of its owner; his whole body becomes support to your back instead of a long pillow he removed previously to take its place and he playfully nudges your feet when you attempt to tangle your legs with his.. Oh, you love this man.

Suddenly a loud noise from the outside worms its way into your lulled conscience, and you flinch. Slowly your eyelids slide open and you groan quietly, ears catching a dissatisfied huff from the male beside you.

“I told them to be careful…” Diluc grumbles under his breath, but doesn’t leave his spot next to you, only lifting his hand slightly and starting to rub your stomach in soothing circles.

“Mmm… What time is it?” Pushing the pillow away you rub at your eyes, yawning. Your husband cranes his neck to look at the wall behind and hums.

“A little past ten.”

“Ten..? Oh no…” With a pout you kick some other pillows (and accidentally his legs) too, stifling another yawn with your hand. “I was supposed to wake up earlier for your special day… I am sorry I slept for so long.”

“Nonsense,” he digs his elbow in a mattress and lifts his upper body to reach for your cheek, smothering it with pecks. “You are nine months pregnant, my love. I would’ve let you sleep all day long, if I didn’t know you worked hard to make today exceptional for me.”

“Oh…” You sigh, finally blinking the sleep, that was clinging to your eyelids, off and throw an arm behind you, rolling your back a little, practically placing yourself on your husband, stretching with a content noise. Diluc sees an opportunity to wrap both arms around you, and carefully draw you even more on top of himself, face hidden in the side of your neck.

“Archons, you are pretty,” the heat engulfs your heart, born from his adoring tone, and spreads in tender waves through your whole being.

“Don’t you dare say having me in your arms is enough of a present for you,” your chiding makes him smile and shake his head.

“As much as that’s true, I won’t, for your sake,” you squint like a cat under the sun, when he places a kiss under your jaw. “Are you ready to get out of bed? Half an hour ago when I came downstairs, and immediately got kicked out by Adelinde, I managed to catch a glimpse of Kaeya and our sons. I am sure Callie and her mom have joined them by now too.”

“Oh, that’s great!” You widely smile, sleep forgotten as if the need in it was always non-existent. “Yes, I want to start getting ready. Please, help me, ‘luc.”

“With greatest pleasure.”

Letting the Alberich family spend the night was one of your greatest decisions made in preparations for Diluc’s birthday. There is no way to guess when throughout the day you might feel light-headed or tired, so them being at the Winery from the very morning till the very evening increases the chances to get an opportunity when all of you can enjoy the celebration together.

When you descend down the stairs, with Diluc practically glued to your sight, holding your arm to support, Kaeya’s face is the first one you spot among the others. He looks absolutely cozy with his pajama-like-looking pants, matching shirt and a knee-long robe, hanging on his shoulders untied. His face lights up with a smile, when his eye lands on you two, and he hands one of the maids nearby the box he’s been holding previously.

“Aren’t these our dear birthday boy and his lovely wife?” His voice is smooth, never lacking his ever-present teasing lilt, as he makes his way to you.

“Don’t make it look like you see me for the first time today,” Diluc grumbles, letting go of your hand, so you could give your brother-in-law a side hug.

“Oh? I am sorry, Diluc, but could I really tell Adelinde not to kick you out? My charms do not work on this amazing woman.”

“Because this woman raised you and is immune to said charms,” the woman in question appears behind the Cavalry Captain, with a sweet smile plastered on her face. “Come on, go help your wife - I don’t doubt she is skilled, but three kids are still a handful.”

“Haha, aren’t you subtle? If I didn’t know how much you adore me, I’d say you are kicking me out,” the star-shaped pupil twinkles with concealed merit, to which the head maid tenderly scoffs.

“Gotta make it even between the brothers,” she teases him back, and he gasps in pretense hurt, to which Diluc rolls his eyes, but a smug-looking smile doesn’t escape your sight.

“Sure, sure,” Kaeya jerks his chin up, still faking the offense, and turns around to leave. The woman shakes her head at his antics, short blond hair gently swaying, complimenting the fond look on her face. With one of her boys gone, she devotes her attention to the other, smiling apologetically.

“I am sorry for shoving you out the way I did, Master Diluc, but Lady Y/n really wanted to be here when you came to witness what she had planned for you. I hope you can forgive me for forbidding you from the first floor of your own house.”

“I can never be mad at you,” Diluc’s lips form a small smile as well, and he steps closer, gingerly embracing her. “After all, you raised me too.”

The older woman chuckles, patting his back, and your gaze softens. Every year you get lucky to see this display of special motherly affection, the one where you get sad a little, because your child grows older, further and further from the little boy you used to know and take care of, but you still are so happy for how far he managed to come. That’s what Adlinde’s face tells you every single year, those are the tears of joy that are brimming her summer-green eyes.

“Adelinde,” you softly call and she glances at you, with her arms still wrapped around her master’s, her kid’s broad back. “I haven’t had an opportunity to congratulate my husband yet, would you like to be the first this year?”

Vibrant eyes slightly widen, and then unspoken affection swirls in them.

“Thank you,” your heart skips a beat, crumbling under the sincerest gratitude the woman offers you for simply giving her such an opportunity.

She turns to Diluc again, and a small, delicate hand reaches up to brush away the fiery bangs that got even wilder as the man got older. A thumb runs over his cheekbone, feeling a small scar underneath, remembering, comparing to the pouty rosy cheek of a little boy, who used to cling to her skirt and seek her attention and advice, with that adorable sparkle in his warm ruby eyes and a wide grin with a tooth missing. Now a tall man is standing in front of her, who suffered many losses and hardships she couldn’t possibly protect him from, but who eventually found his happiness and found it in himself to fully enjoy it.

And that’s all she ever wished for him.

“Happy birthday, my boy,” her voice trembles with emotions, but she manages to get a hold of herself. The other hand comes to cup his other cheek and tilt his head down, so, standing on her toes, she could place a lingering kiss to his forehead. “Happy thirty eighth year of your life, my dawn. I am so proud of how far you’ve come and I wish for nothing more, but for your happiness to grow. I know your father would tell you the same.”

Oh, Archons. That last phrase made you emotional, hitting your poor heart even harder than the tender exchange between the two. And seeing the look on your husband’s face, the quiet hitch of his breath, the slight tremble of his lower lip and unspoken yearning in his flaming eyes, you have to silently excuse yourself from the scene, too scared to ruin the moment by your very possible waterworks. You’ll let the two have their moment, meanwhile you can see what your sons and brother-in-law’s family is up to.

You find the five of them in a separate room, which was long ago reconstructed and redecorated into something akin to a living room (additional wall was added to divide the hall part from this space to grant you and kids privacy if any partner of Diluc stopped by to discuss the matters with either him or Elzer). Both boys and the girl are sitting on the carpet-covered floor, vigorously discussing something - you even catch the pieces of the argument they’ve been having for months. Ever since the twins’ father agreed to consider getting them a dog, they and their older cousin could not shut up about what name the creature should have. At first it was cute, now it’s the reason for a headache, when the three of them cannot reach an agreement.

But the childish debate is quickly tuned out when you recognize the adorable new two-piece indoor outfits you purchased specifically for today. Your older son has the sleeves of his orange pullover rolled while he wildly gesticulates, the usual unruly mass of his untied hair swaying from side to side like a flame turned upside down. Lucas on the other hand has his cheek supported by his fist with an elbow digging in his knee, clad in yellow pants, and watches his brother and cousin with an 'I am so done with them' look, so uncommon for a six-year old, that it almost makes you snort. Callie, wearing similar in style pants and pullover, but sharing a pretty blue color with her father, is actively arguing with Rufus, however there is something different from the redhead's pure decisiveness. There are clearly some hints of Kaeya's mannerism, especially that quirk of her lips. What a cheeky twelve-year old.

“Y/n!”

Your attention is quickly drawn to the smiling woman, who is rising from the couch she’s been sharing with her husband just seconds ago. Mirroring her smile, you swiftly rub your eyes, getting rid of happy tears, caused by a scene at the bottom of the stairs.

“Are you okay?” Concern is laced in your friend’s tone, as she walks to you and puts her palms on your elbows in a comforting gesture. You only shake your head, making a small step closer, so you can give her a hug.

“Yeah, yeah, I am good, don’t worry. Just saw something very heart-warming.”

“Oh, alright,” she sighs in relief. “Are you hungry?"

Good question, actually. You concentrate on what your body feels and craves, softly rubbing your belly. No, still only the aching and ever-present fatigue.

"Not necessarily, but if you all haven't eaten yet, we can do it now. Diluc should soon join us, and after breakfast we can start our stay-inside party."

Your friend nods in agreement, squeezing your elbows affectionately, and then turns to look at the three kids still sitting on the floor, so engrossed in their conversation that they seem to not have even noticed you enter.

"Hey, kids,” only Lucas perks up at his aunt’s call, while Rufus and Callie keep arguing, ignoring everything around them. “Kids,” is said firmer, but still to no avail. As the younger twin gets up from the floor, you share a knowing look with the woman.

“Callie Alberich.”

“Rufus Ragnvindr.”

And as if by magic the conversation is cut short, two sets of worried eyes staring back at the unamused-looking moms.

“Good, we finally have your attention,” Mrs Alberich hums, taking your hand and leading you to the armchair, helping you to sit down. “Now, who’d be a dear and go to the kitchen to let the maids know they can serve breakfast?”

“I will, mom,” the girl says before Rufus can open his mouth and carefully pushes him and his brother in your direction. “You two, go say hi to your mama.”

Kaeya’s eye twinkles, when he easily guesses his daughter’s intentions, but keeps his mouth shut, watching his nephews practically sprint to their mom and climb onto the armrests.

“She went to congratulate uncle Diluc, didn’t she?” His wife quietly asks, taking a seat next to him, and the man only chuckles, wrapping an arm around her waist, bringing her even closer. Yeah, his girl really likes her uncle, adores even, which has been absolutely mutual from the moment the redhead was handed the small baby to hold for the first time. The Dawn Winery owner has always played an important role in the girl’s life, and before his sons were born, the man was absolutely wrapped around his niece’s finger. She doesn’t remember that, of course, but she does remember how she begged for cousins, and feels very proud of the fact, claiming that it’s because of her request uncle and aunt now have two cute boys, whom she really-really loves and enjoys spending time with, despite being twice as old as them.

But uncle is still her favorite out of the whole Ragnvindr family. So getting first to the man and wishing him a happy birthday is an absolute must.

“I am sure she won’t forget about breakfast,” Kaeya hums eventually, focusing on his sister-in-law and nephews, who, in their orange and yellow costumes paired with the color of their hair, remind him of two little candlelights.

“I love the cozy style you decided on for the clothes,” he comments, drawing your attention from twins, who settled against the sides of your stomach, resting their heads on your shoulders.

“Really?” An excited smile worms its way onto your face. “I am glad you think so! I thought they were perfect for spending the day inside."

"They are!" Mrs Alberich claps her hands together. "I adore this pretty dress and yours looks so wonderful too! The fabric is very soft, when I put it on this morning I thought I was hugged by a fluffy cloud. Oh, what color does Diluc have by the way?"

"Papa has gray" Rufus chimes, before reaching out to your stomach to gently pat it. "Mama, did you get the baby one too?"

"I did, Ru," you reassure him, remembering the cute white onesie you decided to purchase on a whim to match the vibe. "Soon she or he will be able to wear it."

"Speaking of the baby, you've never told us the name you picked. Is that a secret?"

"It really isn't,” your tone is soft, and your gaze is tender, as you look down at your belly. “We do have a small list, but our decision was to choose when the baby is born. We agree on every name on that list, and Diluc believes it's just going to click which one is perfect when we see them, just like it happened with these two," you turn your head from side to side, kissing each boy's cheek, making them squeal happily. In reality it was a little bit different.

Obviously you didn't expect to have twins, so your list was created on the basis of eventually picking only one name. But when there appeared to be two babies, two little boys, everything had to be reconsidered. You and your husband (surprisingly more him than you) thought it'd be cute if there was something that would show their twinly bond. That's when it clicked quickly - Diluc came up with Rufus and you did so with Lucas, affectionately calling them Ru and Lu. This time you also considered different kinds of name combinations for possible outcomes, but ultimately decided to let the future tell.

"Okay, that's fair," Kaeya smiles, putting his cheek on top of his wife's head - the woman made herself comfortable on his shoulder, watching you and your sons with a sweet smile of her own. "Promise to invite us over when you feel strong enough to have visitors to meet another member of the Ragnvindr family?"

"Of course, I promise, Kae. And you'll be the first ones to kno- aaah!"

Everyone in the room jumps when a sharp cry of discomfort escapes you. Unwrapping your arms from around the twins, you lean forward and clutch your stomach. Surprised, the boys get down onto the floor and move right in front of you, worry evident on their faces. You mean to reach out to comfort your babies, to reassure him, but another surge of pain prevents you from doing so, and you groan, hands still on the stomach. Kaeya is next on his feet, closely followed by his wife, and just a second later the man scoops both redheads in his arms, while your female friend crouches before you, with both palms on your knees.

"Kaeya, boys - out. I'll handle it."

"But mama is hurt-," Lucas tries, not taking his eyes off of your curled figure, as his brother attempts to wrestle his way out of his uncle’s hold. Both look panicked, and the Cavalry Captain has to gently shush both of them, pressing their bodies even closer to his chest..

“Don’t worry, she is alright and she will be alright when we return, okay? Now, let’s go and find your father-”

“Oh.”

The man stumbles over his words, hearing a surprised noise, and immediately glances up at you, met with an expression of total disbelief.

“Archons, what is it? Y/n, please, don’t scare us like tha-”

“I think my water just broke.”

He barely holds himself back from cursing in front of his little nephews. His wife, on the other hand, is as cool as a cucumber, absolutely unphased, with not even an ounce of worry present on her face or in her actions. She rises from her crouched position and turns to look at her husband, who in a second became an anxious wreck, as if it is his beloved who is having contractions.

“Love,” she speaks calmly, “take the boys, find Callie and Diluc and get the kids ready to go out for a walk. Also ask someone to inform the midwife that Y/n has possibly gone into labor. And for the Seven’s sake, don’t dump this information onto your brother as if someone is dying, we don’t need a panicked dad right now.”

“Got it,” his legs start moving even before he thinks about it, and with two boys held in a death grip, Kaeya runs out of the room. He startles a couple of maids in the hall, along with Diluc, who’s just walked out of the kitchen, holding his niece’s hand. The hero of today’s occasion lifts his eyebrows, staring at the disheveled form of his brother, and an uneasy feeling starts rising in his chest when he notices the barely concealed panic in his periwinkle eye.

“Kaeya, what’s going on?”

“Okay, birthday boy, I need you to stay calm no matter what I tell you now, alright?"

"Are you sure you are the one to tell me to stay calm?" Red brows meet together in an alarmed manner. "What's gotten into you? Where are our wives?"

Another sharp cry, easily recognised as yours, is heard from the living room, and in a quieted hall everyone is finally becoming aware of something going on, something very unplanned.

"Um, so, as I said, stay calm, 'luc. However hard it is to believe, your wife might’ve gone into labor.”

“What!?”

Loud gasps of the maids fall almost deaf to Diluc’s ears when he hears the news. Immediately one of the girls chirps that she’ll go find the midwife and quickly scurries away, while two more run upstairs to go and check the room specifically prepared for such an occasion. Someone steps up and takes Callie, bringing her with Kaeya and twins somewhere else, but honestly, the redhead doesn’t notice it. The only thing his mind keeps repeating is that his wife needs him.

When he bursts into the living room you’ve already gotten onto your feet, one hand gripping Mrs Alberich’s shoulder and the other pressed to your stomach. The grimace on your face and heavy breathing is an evidence itself of your state, and Diluc appears at your side in a flash of gray and crimson, wrapping an arm around your back.

“My flame, keep breathing. Everything is alright,” his deep voice is comforting and you lean your forehead into his chest, whimpering.

You nod, letting go of your friend’s shoulder, and Diluc takes it as an opportunity to lift you in his arms - there is no way he’s making you walk, especially when the point of your destination is the second floor. You do not even complain, instead focusing on trying to relax the best you can, exercising proper breathing and counting.

“I am so sorry, ‘luc. I wanted this day to be special and now I am ruining it…”

“No, you are not,” he says firmly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Rather you are making it even more special. I know you worked hard, but I also know that all of it won’t go anywhere and we’ll have a moment to enjoy it properly afterwards. You are much more important right now, so let’s get you to the bedroom.”

Kaeya was right - it is hard to believe. Of course, it’s not clear yet, it still could be just false labor pains, but never in his entire life could Diluc imagine that one of his kids would be born on the same day he was. When he lays you down onto the bed with pristine white sheets and lets the midwife examine you, the heart in his chest is going absolutely crazy. He can’t bear to see that painful look on your face, how your pretty eyes squint and teeth are gritted, but he will rather fall dead in that same room, than leave it, leave you without his support.

You lift your hand and reach for him. Someone pushes a chair closer and he sits down, grasping your sweating hand with both of his and suddenly a memory flashes before his eyes. It’s been twenty years and he thought he has healed, but the rainy day and a man’s big hand he was clasping in his own come back to haunt him. His mind starts screaming. What if something goes wrong? What if he loses someone dear to him again? What if it’s the last time he feels the warm touch of the person who brought him out of his misery? What if it’s the last time he hears your voice and the distressed tone of it is what he’ll remember you like? Please, no, whoever is listening, don’t do it, don’t take you and the baby away from him, please, don't-

“Diluc,” his eyes snap open and he becomes painfully aware that he is shaking. But it's not about him, despite what day it is today. Right now everything is about you.

Inhaling deeply and sharply exhaling, he blinks away the images of the past and focuses on your face instead. It’s not twisted in pain now, instead you are smiling at him, the adoration in your eyes unmistakable and the squeeze you give his fingers is sobering.

“Did you hear that? It’s actually happening. My water actually broke. Our baby will be here soon. I can’t promise I won’t curse you back and forth like during the first time, but I’ll really try.”

At that moment, pushing the dread aside and leaning forward to press a sweet reassuring kiss to your lips, the man thinks that if it was legally allowed he’d marry you again.

It’s been a couple of hours since the Alberich couple left the Winery with all of the kids. It took Kaeya awhile to calm the boys down, while Callie remained uncharacteristically quiet, glancing at her mom from time to time, because her mother always knows what is going on, but this time, for some reason, isn't telling her.

Eventually both adults managed to persuade the three of them that they are on a mission to get some lovely flowers for Diluc and you - they made sure to pick different kinds that do not grow together for the process to take more time. Fortunately, it brought smiles back onto those cute little faces, and the couple let out a sigh of relief, watching their daughter and nephews, as the group went from one location to another. Lucas, being a dear he is, suggested that mom and dad deserved the biggest bouquets ever and Rufus doubled it, so now they are indeed on a mission to gather as many flowers as they can.

Making a pretty big circle, the five of them returned close to the Winery - but not quite. Settling near the Statue of the Seven, Kaeya stays to watch over the kids picking up windwheel asters and guard the bouquets they’ve already managed to create. The location allows him to oversee the vast grounds that belong to the Ragnvindr family, but also observe his wife’s figure getting smaller and smaller, but closer and closer to the main building. It was decided that soon everyone would get hungry, so she went to bring some food, but also to check on the situation at hand.

The sun hangs high in the sky and Kaeya squints in delight, letting the warm rays caress his face. Ah, what a wonderful day… With a puff of air he sits down and immediately lays his back on the soft ground, cracking his eye open. Not a cloud in sight, only the magnificent blue hues surrounding the brightest star, that’s the sight his brother deserves to have on his birthday - what a pity he can’t see it, stuck inside due to unplanned, though long-awaited, circumstances.

It is a perfect day for the twins’ sibling to be born, and for a brief moment a thought passes the Cavalry Captain’s mind - that maybe it’s the final step for Diluc to heal from all the pain and sorrow that whole 18th birthday situation caused him. Of course, it’s hard to tell, it was a seemingly endless nightmare after all, but he hopes for it, for this bundle of joy that is the redhead's third child to overshadow the loss of their father on this exact date.

Deep in his thoughts he doesn’t notice how Rufus comes closer, dividing equally the amount of flowers he’s gotten, putting one half in his dad’s pile and the other in mom’s one. Then he steps even closer, casting a small shadow across his uncle’s chest. Kaeya snaps out of it only when he feels a soft nudge, head turning and seeing that the boy carefully pushed the tips of his sandal against the lying man’s ribcage.

“What is it, Ru?” His voice sounds a bit lazy, but at least there is not even a hint of his initial panic - worry would only provoke the twins to feel concerned about the scene in the living room all over again, and he doesn't want that, their parents wouldn't want that.

The little flame in front of him watches closely with wide eyes, which in combination with wild red hair makes him look like a fluffed up owlet.

Totally Diluc’s kid.

“We picked a lot of flowers… When are we coming home? I wanna see mama and papa. And also I’m hungry…”

“Yeah, dad, me too,” Callie pops behind her cousin, staring at Kaeya with bright eyes. She’s holding a mix of windwheel asters and sweet flowers, and the keen dark eye spots a small ladybug crawling up one of the stems. Equally small white lie wouldn't hurt.

“Your aunt is setting an additional surprise right now,” yeah, that’s literally the best explanation he can give them, “but this one takes time, and we need to be patient for her, okay?”

“But if it’s a surprise, why did Uncle Diluc stay? Doesn’t make sense,” His daughter is too sharp sometimes, but that’s why he is proud of her.

“This one requires his presence, so she doesn’t have to worry about messing up. I believe you’ll like it, so let’s give them time. As for the lunch - our precious Snowflake will soon bring us something to eat.”

“Don’t call mom that in front of me,” Callie grumbles, kicking his hip, and the man gasps, hand immediately flying to grab the assaulted place.

“But snowflakes are pretty!” Lucas, who appeared somewhen during the conversation, stares at the older girl in confusion. “They are very pretty and have unique forms… Your mom is pretty and unique too!”

“I know she is, but sometimes it’s just argh. Oh! Doesn’t your father call your mother ‘my flame’?”

“Yes, he does,” Rufus confirms with a nod, sitting down onto the ground. Kaeya turns onto his side, ignoring the dull pain and supports his cheek with a fist. Well, this is amusing~

“Don’t you find it a little too much sometimes?” Both twins shake their heads, red bangs bouncing with the motion, and the girl sighs in exasperation. “Wait till you are as old as I am, you’ll realize how cringe it is.”

“What’s ‘cringe’?”

Kaeya snorts. It’s funny when a twelve-year old speaks of her age with such intonation. It never ceases to amaze him how well his daughter adapted in the role of an older sibling to her cousins. She quickly realized her leading position and it was and still is very clear in her attitude, especially right now, as she is educating them on the meaning of the word 'cringe'. She cares for them a lot though, so he can hardly find a situation where she abused her power in the dynamic the three of them have. Besides, both Rufus and Lucas are far from stupid - probably ones of the brightest kids he’s ever had encounters with, and already have their opinions, so despite loving and admiring Callie they still can fight her back verbally. The only difference is that this is Rufus’ style of handling arguments with her, while Lucas prefers more tranquil approaches. Watching the three interact, Kaeya can't help but wonder what kind of personality would the baby develop.

Ah, it’s going to get so much livelier~

It’s another half an hour, during which he sneakily stole the spotlight from his girl and entertained the kids with made-up, but attention-grabbing stories. His wife's arrival catches them all by surprise - just like everything else about her, as she shouts their names and waves at them the best she can with a basket hanging off of her elbow. She is not alone though. With delight overtaking their expressions, kids spot the most loving and kind (obviously favorite) maid at her side holding the rest of the baskets Mrs Alberich couldn’t carry on her own. Kaeya hasn't even sat up yet, and the kids are already speeding in her direction.

“Addieeeee!”

Overjoyed, in an instant they are all over her and the woman gently laughs, settling down the baskets and staying in a crouched position to hug all of them. As she is telling them to help her with unfolding the blanket, Kaeya rises to his feet, right in time to put his arms loosely around his wife's waist to press a kiss to the corner of her mouth.

"Thanks for the food and bringing additional help," he murmurs, smooching her again and taking the baskets away. Freed arms encircle his neck and soft lips press against his in return, stealing the man's breath away.

"Don't mention it. Adelinde figured we might need her, and she is right, personally I am at my wit's end," she sighs, glancing behind to make sure the kids are occupied with the task the head maid gave them. "As for the news - everything is going smoothly so far, but it'll take some more hours. Other maids suggested visiting Springvale or maybe going to the City, and I agree."

"Yes, that sounds reasonable…" Kaeya hums, inwardly admitting that some remaining weight has just been lifted off of his shoulders. "You think we'll have to return in the morning or…?"

"No. Before we left, Adelinde checked in with Diluc - apparently he'll send his falcon to deliver a message once everything is over."

Ah, yes… the falcon his brother personally trained once again just a couple of years ago after the passing of his very first winged companion. And once again Kaeya was that one person the bird will always find, no matter where he is.

"Delightful. Then let us have our lunch. What you've got there, hm?"

"What was supposed to be put for the celebratory breakfast we all missed. It'd be such a pity if the food went to waste, wouldn't it?"

"True," the Cavalry Captain sighs and, adjusting his hold on the baskets, leads both of them to the rest of their little group. “What a chaotic morning…”

The drawn together heavy curtains do not let a ray of a settling sun into the quiet room. The crimson painting the sky is undoubtedly beautiful, mesmerizing even, but no one dares to disturb your rest with a blazing color. The smell of freshly cleaned bedding is appeasing, but the fluffed up pillows that have the scent of your husband clinging to them is your main source of comfort - you faintly remember it, but you are sure of nearly snarling at whoever suggested changing the linen for them too before bringing you to the master’s bedroom. Poor maid must’ve been so scared, you’ll have to apologize to her later…

The slight guilt sparked by the memory is what makes you pass the line between dream and consciousness. You force your heavy eyelids open, but immediately squint a little from the light of the candles on the walls. A soft groan escapes your throat and you drop your head to the side, hiding from the light and blinking to make the eyes adjust. Succeeding in it, you take a quick look around the room, wondering if you were left alone to repose, or someone remained to monitor your condition.

That’s when you spot him. Or rather the gorgeous mane of ruby hair, shiny in the candlelight, thrown in a proper high ponytail, streaming down his upper back. He’s changed his clothes too - there is a hazy recollection of someone telling him to go and do so, and what a nice view it is, to see the gray pajama pants and pullover to be replaced with dark cherry - almost blackish - shirt, carmine vest and dark pants. But that’s not the most pleasing sight. Your heart almost melts, when the standing man turns around and you see a bundle of blankets delicately held in his strong arms. Vibrant eyes show every single emotion Diluc feels, looking at your baby. There is pure joy, happiness, bliss, love, promises to protect, to care, to cherish, to make every single day of life important and special. It’s so similar to the scene of nearly seven years ago, but without your husband bawling his eyes out with both arms occupied by twins. Well, maybe he did, a little, when you were resting, but you’ll never know.

You observe them for a little longer, the picture so perfect, you regret not having a Kamera in your hands right now to imprint a moment in a photo. Though you doubt you’d have strength to lift the thing enough to snap one and not make it blurry, so, just watching would suffice for now.

However Diluc’s senses are sharp, and when someone stares at him for longer than a couple of seconds - he knows. The warmth of the tamed flames seeps right through the eye contact, penetrating every cell in your body with welcomed heat. That may be the trick of the light, but his dark pupils dilate upon looking at you, and the blush creeps to your cheeks. Damn this man and him giving you looks like you are the whole world.

“Hey, love,” you softly call, the sound blending into the tender atmosphere, becoming a part of it, becoming Diluc’s source of oxygen for a brief second.

“Hello, my flame,” his voice can hardly mask the adoration and eagerness, with which he takes his next actions, makes it clear how excited he was for you finally awakening. With light steps he moves to the bed and carefully bends down. The touch of his lips is gentle, yet the feeling hidden behind it steals your breath away and your own lips part. Diluc murmurs something about wanting to give you so many kisses to compensate for the hours you spent in labor, and you breathlessly laugh at his adorable confession.

“It’s alright, ‘luc. Besides you are such a beautiful sight for a sore eye, how can I complain when my husband is all dressed up for me?”

“Oh, my flame,” his tone is oh so silken. “You are the beautiful one here. You looked so serene in your sleep, and now you shine like the brightest star.”

“Oh, stop that, I am sure I look like hell.”

“Not at all,” he shakes his head, long and fluffy bangs barely swaying. “You are wonderful. But how are you feeling? Need anything? Maybe you’d like to rest a bit more? I’ll take care of everything for you.”

You know he will, and this is one of the reasons that make him a great husband and an amazing father.

“No, no, I am fine, I feel better. It’s finally over. Our son is here.”

Yes, your son is here. Are you surprised it’s a boy again? Not really, there always was a gut feeling your older sons would have a little brother as their sibling, and by the red hairs you spotted when the baby was passed to you for the first time there is now a solid confirmation that Ragnvindr genes are insane.

“I want to hold him. May I?”

Without answering your question directly, Diluc carefully places the baby on the free space on the bed and helps you to adjust the pillows and sit up. Then the boy is instantly in your arms and Diluc kicks his shoes off to climb next to you. The sides of your heads touch, and you smile when his big hand is placed under yours, to provide additional support.

Your son is sleeping. So tiny and wrapped in all those blankets he is so peaceful. You swallow harshly to fight the tears back and shakily sigh, rapidly blinking. Rough fingers move your hairs away from your face and lovingly caress your cheek, reminding you that everything is okay.

“You did so well, my love… You are incredible, you know that?”

A choked chuckle erupts from your mouth and you sniffle.

“I am, am I not? But it’s also a miracle that he decided to come out right on your birthday.”

The man presses the firmest kiss he’s given you this evening to your temple and wraps his free arm around your shoulders, bringing you even closer. The thumping of his heart is palpable and makes you want to cry again.

“You know…” lifting your head, you come face to face with your husband, and there is a smile playing on his lips, one that is both bright and a bit melancholic. “Now there is one more reason to look forward to my birthday. To celebrate mine with you all and to celebrate his like that too.”

“Oh, we can have two parties!” You beam, closing your eyes and picturing it in your head. “Yours would be obviously in the morning, and his would be in the evening- oh, Ru and Lu would be so delighted to have two cakes to eat instead of one,” you share a soft laugh. Which actually reminds you…

“Have you sent anyone to notify them they can come home? I feel so bad that they had to spend your birthday away from you…”

“Don’t worry, dear. The message has been delivered and they should soon be here. And there is always tomorrow to start with the party all over again. I believe it was a smart decision to get kids out of the house. You know how protective twins are around you - they would’ve worried themselves out of their minds.”

You have to admit that Diluc is right - no need for your boys and niece to hear you scream and curse whoever was present for hours, and you can trust the Alberich family to keep them safe and entertained.

“Well then, if everything else is settled, my heart and mind are at peace… But we still have one important thing to do. The name. And before we go down the list, may I suggest something, please?”

“You are the mother, you have the most say in it,” his words make you lift an eyebrow at him, yet he only smiles. Shaking your head you poke your nose into his cheek.

“What a gentleman you are…"

"That's what my dad told my mom," he says as if in his defense. "And I agree with him on that one - after all, it's you who carried him for nine months and kept him healthy."

"Alright, alright, I could speak of all the ways you provided for me so I could do that, but I know you won't accept this kind of praise. Okay, I will have a say in it," Diluc scoffs, but you only give him a teasing wink. "Speaking of your parents, remember how you told me that your mother chose the name ‘Diluc’, because you were born in the early hours of dawn?” He nods, fondness reflecting in his eyes. “She also did it, because your father’s name means ‘twilight’, ‘dusk’ and she wanted them to match, right?” He nods again, but this time it’s confusion and a bit of hurt that are hiding behind his crimson pools of fire. Still holding the baby, you do your best to interlace your fingers with his, still supporting your hand, and the redhead takes notice of it, helping you, until there is a nice hold on each other's digits.

Swallowing thickly you take a deep breath to calm your nerves. Diluc would never be mad at you, but what you are going to suggest next is pretty huge.

"It's not on the list, but I took interest in this one when we were researching. The main meaning of this name is 'Sun'. However, there were languages that gave it a slightly different meaning, let's say, time-specific? And now, since our son was born on the 30th of April and almost at sunset, I thought that this one might be perfect. It's… It's Cyrus. And it can have the meaning of 'dusk', 'twilight', just like your father's name does."

The clock on the wall is ticking and that's the only sound in the room. You can barely hear your hearts beating or air entering and leaving your lungs, but your mind is in a race against itself, and you start second-guessing that maybe giving him a big reminder about that day was a mistake. Diluc’s been healing, you know that, you’ve been here all these years to witness his progress and be proud of him, but it still must hurt. His silence is worrying, but despite your own nervousness you give him time to process, to let the thought sink in and register what exactly you are implying.

You spend a few minutes quietly. Your husband never loosens his hold on your shoulders, and it soothes you when his thumb starts rubbing over your knuckles absent-mindedly. His warm breath caresses your skin, lulling your alerted senses to the point of tranquility, and you sigh audibly, lowering your head on his shoulder. And then you finally hear him speak again.

“Cyrus… It’s a lovely name. I… I really like it. No, I love it.”

“Yeah?” A soft murmur of your question sends a wave of delight to the man’s swelling heart. “You do?”

“I do. I think it’s perfect. But…are you really sure you want to honor my father?”

“He meant a lot to you, ‘luc,” you straighten up and turn to have a better view of the redhead. There are unshed tears clinging to his thick lashes and he doesn’t even blink, looking down at your son. “Listen, my love,” carefully sliding one hand from beneath the baby’s body you bring it to Diluc’s cheek, making him face you, making him gulp and lean into your open palm, “I too think it’s perfect, and maybe, just maybe, the birth of our son today is your dad’s sign to move on. Master Crepus would want that for you, I am sure, and passing on a small fracture of him to this boy would close this chapter forever. What do you think?”

“I think that I love you so-so much…”

His lips are scorching, kissing yours with feverish urgency. Tears roll down his flushed cheeks, but you brush them away the best you can, not minding the salty taste of the kiss. Diluc Ragnvindr has his chest open for you, for your hands to hold his beating heart, for them to take care of it. This pure joy that sets his soul aflame is overpowering, all-consuming, and he is more than ready to let it swallow him whole, if only you keep loving him the way you’ve been all these many years.

When he parts from you, the redhead nearly chokes and starts coughing from all the sobs he held back. Your fingers are deft, threading through his thick locks, gently scratching his scalp, as his forehead is pressed to yours. You remind him to breathe.

“And I love you too, Diluc. I always will.”

”Thank you.”

You smile, peppering his face with kisses, whispering the sweetest words of affection. He wants to tell you something, he even opens his mouth, but a sudden knock on the door interrupts him. Your eyes dart to the heavy wood blocking the entrance to your bedroom.

“Master Diluc?” It’s hushed, but still audible. “We spotted young masters, Sir Kaeya’s family and Miss Adelinde from the window. They will be here soon, should we ask them to wait?”

Your husband clears his throat, coughing in his fist, and then glances at your figure to check if you look good enough to receive so many people at once. You simply mouth an “I am fine”. It seems enough to assure him.

“No, Hillie,” your husband speaks louder. “Y/n is awake, so once everyone arrives, please, bring them here. And make arrangements for dinner.”

“Yes, Master!”

Diluc sighs when the hurried steps can no longer be heard and kisses you once more. The baby in your hold starts stirring and you return your free arm back around him, bringing the boy closer to your chest.

“Will you be fine, if I leave you alone with Cyrus for a moment?” Him already using the name reduces your heart to a puddle and you cannot fight the huge grin.

“We will, my love, don’t worry. Go wash your face, I’ll feed him in the meantime.”

With a nod he bends to kiss his son’s forehead and then peck you on the cheek, climbing out of the bed after that and disappearing in the bathroom.

Fortunately, you had a solid half an hour before your sons and guests returned. In that time you managed to feed Cyrus, lull him back to sleep and pass the boy to a much calmer and collected Diluc, who carefully placed him in a crib.

Upon your suggestion, the man steps out of the bedroom to meet everyone downstairs, and warn the kids about being quiet. Every maid he meets on the way beams at him with a smile, congratulating and asking if their Lady is alright and if she needs anything. Their eagerness to assist his wife with anything she might need and excitement they feel for the fact Ragnvindr family has just grown in number is heart-warming, and Diluc allows himself a small smile, as he answers them the best he can.

When he reaches the hall of the first floor it’s just on time to witness Adelinde closing the massive doors and locking them. Two balls of red immediately sprint to him and he barely has time to crouch and catch his elder sons. They start whining and pouting for missing the whole day with their dad and he kisses their round cheeks, promising to hold a proper celebration later.

“Hmph, you better!” Rufus scoffs, lightly punching his father’s shoulder. “But today is not over yet, right?”

Diluc nods, patting their heads affectionately, ruffling crimson locks. Then twins glance at each other and simultaneously inhale.

“Happy birthday, dad! We love you!”

“I love you too, fireflies,” he hums, straightening up and lifting both of them in his arms. “Thank you for your kind words, I appreciate them.”

“We brought you and mom bouquets! Callie helped too,” Lucas chirps, pointing to two big bunches of flowers in Kaeya’s and his wife’s arms. The redhead lifts his eyebrows, to which his brother only shrugs.

“This is wonderful, kids. I love them, and I know your mom would adore them too.”

“Oh, can we go see her?”

“Why isn’t she with you?”

“Dad said she was preparing a surprise, where is it?”

Bombarded with questions, flying from three directions, Diluc is reminded of why he came down here in the first place.

“Kids,” the seriousness in his voice stops the stream of interrogation. Three sets of eyes are glued to his face. “I am going to tell you something very important and I need you to listen, alright? Now we all are going to go to my and mom’s bedroom. There you’ll have to be quiet, okay? No screaming, no squealing, no arguments, no running around, got it? Your mother is very tired, and someone who’s also waiting for you there may start crying if you disturb him.”

Mrs Alberich gasps, widely smiling, and turns to her husband, whispering in his ear.

”It’s another boy!”

Children on the other hand look utterly confused, but they do know when the look on the Dawn Winery owner’s face shows he is not kidding. This sounds so mysterious, and while puzzled they are dying to know what’s going on. And without acting the way their dad/uncle asks they will not find out what it is.

“Okay, we understand. We will be quiet.”

“Thank you,” he bends down again to put his sons back onto the floor and glances behind at his staff. “Someone, take these flowers and put them in vases in the living room. Kids, go wash your hands.”

"Yes, Master Diluc!"

When the door to the bedroom opens, you wave to everyone with a soft smile, cozying among the many pillows again.

"Mama!" Twins exclaim in whispers, tiptoeing to the bed and climbing up to hug you. "We missed you so much… How are you? Why are you in bed?"

"Tired," you simply explain, smooching their cute little noses and hugging them as tightly as you could. Suddenly, Lucas's eyes fall to your stomach - or rather to where it was just hours ago.

"Mom… where is the baby?" He asks, patting around the blanket, and indeed discovering the belly's absence. Rufus lowers his gaze to confirm his brother's words and then looks at you and after that at Diluc, who's just quietly closed the door shut.

"Dad, what did you do to the baby?"

"Nothing."

"When where-?"

He stops when you tap his shoulder and, once both boys' attention is yours again, point to the crib standing close to the side of the bed. Callie, who's been watching all along, has her interest picked, and steps to the little bed from the other side, as her cousins crawl across the mattress. With six hands grabbing at the wooden edges and six eyes glancing inside, the room falls quiet again for a few moments. Kaeya walks to you and gives you a hug, kissing your forehead and congratulating you with a new addition to the family.

"It's funny isn't it?" He murmurs. "Now you don't need to invite us another time to meet the newborn."

You laugh at that. As he moves away your co-sister-in-law is quick to take his place, embracing you and pecking your cheek, also congratulating you and teasing for once again being a boy’s mom. Diluc meanwhile has taken place by his niece’s side, gently smoothing her hair back, observing the kids’ reaction.

It’s Lucas who opens his mouth first.

“So… this is our sibling?”

“Yes, Lu. This is your little brother.”

“He sure is little,” Rufus drawls, “I’d even say tiny. Were we this tiny too?”

“You were,” Callie butts her way in a conversation. “I was your age when I saw you two for the first time. Though I couldn’t hold both of you in my arms, you were heavy. You are still heavy, hehe.”

“We are not-!”

“Shh,” Diluc presses a finger to his lips, and the kids slam their palms over their mouths. “Remember what I asked you about? No fighting, or he will wake up and start crying.”

“Sorry, dad…”

“Sorry, Uncle Diluc…”

You snort at the little exchange, watching your family fondly, thinking that you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Hey, brother,” Kaeya joins the other man and grabs his shoulder, squeezing in an affectionate gesture, “Congrats. Both with your and your son’s birthday.”

Diluc nods, lifting his own hand, patting the one resting on his shoulder.

“Oh, right!” The older twin’s eyes sparkle at the realization and he stares up at his dad. “Does it mean you share a birthday with him?”

“Yes, I do, Ru. Does it bother you?”

“Are you kidding me? Dad, that’s so cool! Me and Lucas always have each other for our birthday, he would have you for his!”

“Also it means two cakes,” the other six-year old murmurs under his breath, and Diluc nearly chuckles - you do know your boys too well. It also lifts a weight he wasn’t aware of off his chest - it seems like he was a bit worried, if twins would feel jealous of the fact their dad’s and sibling’s birthdays are on the same date. But since they are cool with it - he is more than cool too.

“Speaking of him,” Mrs Alberich manages to take a peek into a crib too, aw-ing at the fact it’s a red-haired baby again, “have you chosen a name already?”

“We did,” scarlet eyes stare right into your soul through yours, and you mirror Diluc’s proud smile. “His name is Cyrus. Cyrus Ragnvindr.”

“Cyrus, hmm…” Kaeya purses his lips in thought, as if examining the name in and out, like some kind of a linguist. “Diluc, Rufus, Lucas and Cyrus… Yeah, fits right in.”

“Not as well as Cherry №3 I bet,” Callie smirks at the twins, to which, keeping in mind the promise they gave their dad, they only stick their tongues at her.

“I told you the name was perfect,” your husband reminds you with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, wait!” The eye-patch wearer snaps his fingers without actually making a snapping sound. “DiLUc and LUcas, RUfus and CyRUs… You now have two Lu’s and two Ru’s!”

“Oh Archons, I didn’t realize that,” with wide eyes you stare back at him. “That’s so cute!”

“Can we call him Cy?” Lucas pulls away from the little bed, and sits back on the mattress properly.

“I think it is indeed a short form for his name,” you nod, feeling so relieved about how smoothly everything has been going. Yeah, surely the birthday party didn’t go as planned, but on the other hand you finally have your boy, and your other boys look pretty happy after meeting their younger brother. So it’s all wonderful.

Or maybe you are too fast to judge.

“Uncle Diluc, Aunt Y/n,” you are surprised, when your niece calls you both, and glance at the oldest kid in the room inquiringly. To your surprise her face is expressionless, or at least she is trying to keep it this way, because your husband can clearly see barely-hidden mischief lighting up her eyes. She waits when her silence draws attention of the rest of the people to her persona and then, with the same straight face, says something that immediately sends her father choking on a silent laughter.

“Next time I want a girl cousin.”

Dumbfounded, Diluc, you and her mother stare at the girl with jaws going slack, while Kaeya is nearly dying from suppressing his violent coughing, bent in half and shaking. Not letting it crack her act, she holds her head high and heads right towards the door, feigning nonchalance with her graceful posture and slow steps.

“I will go and ask about the dinner. That's all.”

And just like that she leaves you all once again under the pretense of checking on with the kitchen staff. Mrs Alberich is the first one to snap out of the collective stupor and, shaking her head, grabs Kaeya’s elbow to drag him out of the room. Diluc is next, inhaling deeply, wondering why he is even surprised by her antics. He notices how the twins kind of lost interest in watching a baby that is doing literally nothing, so he ushers the boys to a very important mission - to make sure that their dad’s favorite meal is cooked, which they take with all seriousness.

And once more it’s only him, you, and little Cyrus, sleeping peacefully in his bed. You watch thick scarred fingers unbutton the vest and peel it off, hanging it on the back of the chair. Same fingers brush his bangs away and he sighs again, making eye contact with you. He smiles and you smile too.

“As much as I love this girl, I’ll have to disappoint her.”

“I agree, love,” the man is at your side again, an arm snaking around your shoulders and pressing you into him. “I admit, I would’ve loved to have a sweet girl looking just like you, but judging by the looks of our sons... Who knows how many attempts it’ll take, and I am not risking your health anymore.”

“You are so sweet,” you swoon, lacing your fingers together and squeezing his hand. “I love you for that. Are you sure that this is enough?”

“It always was enough. From the moment it was just you and me it was already enough. You simply tripled this happiness.”

“We tripled this happiness.”

“We will.”

“Yes, we did. And we will keep it that way.”

You lean close to kiss him, but, before he can reciprocate, start kissing all over his face, wherever your current position allows you to reach. Your partner keens on your affectionate attack, lowering his head on purpose, so you have more skin to cover with your lips, and since it brings you so much satisfaction, you do not stop until a thought, that you are forgetting something, is at the front of your mind.

“I just realized that I am the only one who has not wished you a happy birthday today. So… Happy birthday, Diluc. I love you very-very much. Sorry I am not very creative this year.”

“I think the little boy sleeping over there would beg to differ,” your husband nods at the crib, making you pout, but is quick to kiss it away. “I love you too, Y/n. Thank you for everything. This birthday was as perfect as any other you spent with me.”

“And I will make sure to make it perfect every single year ahead of us, my glorious Dawn. Should we wish a happy birthday to our little Dusk as well? I think I heard Kaeya briefly congratulate him, I want to do it too!”

You are so adorable when excitement is written all over you, and it's hard not to give in to your sparkling eyes, especially when he wants the same thing you do.

“We absolutely should. Let’s do it together, alright?”

The sky is painted black outside, and the second floor of the Winery is quiet, when in the comfort of one of its rooms three sweet words are spoken in two voices with such love and devotion, only parents can have for their child.

“Happy birthday, Cyrus.”

And maybe the winds would pick these words and carry them through the time to the one, and, stroking his short red beard, he would smile and say that the Dawn and the Dusk were always meant to be together.

Diluc and Cyrus

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #dadluc #genshin oc #kaeya alberich #genshin impact fluff #pearly family au

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༺ ♱✮♱ ¨:·Something Stupid-Chapter 3·:¨ ♱✮♱ ༻

A/N: Hii everyone! Sorry this chapter is a little later than usual, burnout happened, school happened, the whole shebang! This chapter is a doozy though, hope you all will love it <3

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The sun rays peek through your window and the birds’ chirps awake you from your slumber.

Or maybe it’s the snoring of a drowsy Adam, who was lying beside you, though you’ve inured yourself to his unconscious noises for ages.

You get up from your bed, just to almost have your legs give way under you, thanks to the fact that you had to be pounded by your husband, as you promised to him.

Last night felt like a chore. You feel really bad for thinking it, but it really did.

You’re not an expert, but sex should feel enjoyable, by all sides involved, but with Adam, it feels like an obligatory activity.

You spend the next 25 minutes brushing your teeth, showering and getting ready for the day. Since there’s nothing to do at home (well, there’s nothing to do at home) you decide that this is a good time to be productive.

You head into the kitchen and scrutinise each and every ingredient that graces your pantry.

“Hmm, maybe this would work…” You grab flour, eggs, milk and a frying pan…

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The smell of buttery pancakes drifts throughout the kitchen. You sit down in your chair and take a bite of your breakfast.

The pancakes themselves were lovely; the consistency was just right and the flavour was something to die again for, courtesy of Heaven’s always perfect ingredients.

Heaven….

‘Perfect’ Heaven.

Up until a few weeks ago, you would have believed that sentimental saying that you hear being thrown around on multiple occasions, but now, those words seem like direct opposites of each other, an oxymoron even.

The mere thought of it sets an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

You shakily finish one pancake, and neatly leave the rest in the microwave.

You have more pressing matters to get on about today, and pancakes aren’t one of them, though you want it to be.

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“Welcome to Heaven, how can I help?” The Saint looks up from his logbook with a face coloured with surprise when he recognises you.

“Y/N! How’ve ya been?”

“I’m doing good,” you smile up at the angel behind the pedestal.

“So, what can I do for the wonderful wife of Adam, hm?” St. Peter clicks his tongue and finger guns.

“Well, Peter, is there a chance you could show me the list of Heaven’s recent residents? There’s a certain person I’m looking for…” Realisation hits you like a truck. Would this information be classified? You wouldn’t know until-

“Yeah sure, here!” The Saint passes you a page with written names and dates.

“This is a list of Heaven’s newest angels from up to a month ago. I hope you find who you’re looking for!”

“Thanks Pete, you’re a Saint,”

“Well, I am Saint Peter after all, ah bye-bye!”

Well that was easier than anticipated.

Now you need a private place to mull it over…

You walk through the brightly lit heavenly streets and bump into someone, sending you and your papers flying.

“Oh my, misss, I am ssssso ssssorry,” The person bends down to collect the papers.

“No, no it’s fine, sorry-” your voice gets stuck in your throat. You take a close look at the person collecting your papers.

The person, or, you should say snake, was sporting a smart coat, top hat, and eyes in his hair?

He was familiar. Where have you seen him before?

Your eyes dilate in recognition.

He was pixel perfect to the mural that Charlie showed you the other day.

“Excuse me for asking, but are you Sir Pentious?”

The snake demon, or angel, looks around before leaning in.

“Depends on who’sssss asssking,”

“Oh uh,” you think for a moment. How do you explain that you know he was a demon, without seeming like a stalker of sorts.

Clearly, this isn’t the subject to have casually in the street.

“Here, let me explain over tea and cookies, hm? My treat!” You grab the hand of Pentious gently and head to the nearest café.

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“And ssso, thisss Adam guy just sssnapped me out of existence, and now I’m here, but without my egg boisss,” Pentious explains while indulging himself with a Pain un Chocolat, eyes welling while doing so.

“Huh, I see. So Charlie’s plan does work,” you mumble to yourself. “And I apologise for my husband, by the way,”

The snake pales, his skin now ashy. “He’ssss, your husssband?” he instinctively pushes away from you in his seat.

“Yes, but don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I just promised Charlie that I would help her with the hotel and redemption and all that…”

“Oh I sssee. Here’ss my card if you need anything more,” He produces a card and hands it to you, and you accept it graciously, despite it having a slimy residue on it.

“Great! I have to go now but it was nice meeting you,” you shake his hand and leave the café.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“So, what’s it like having sex with the first man? What are your orgasms like?”

“Angel, don’t torment the poor girl,”

“Whaat? Just askin’” Angel groans and puts his phone on the countertop of the bar.

Apparently, Charlie has gone AWOL, along with Vaggie and Lucifer, the three people that deserve to be the first people aware of the gratifying information you are holding.

This tension is getting you antsy, but you answer your newfound bestie’s question.

“Overrated to be honest. Not meaningful in the slightest,” Your blunt answer stuns Angel and Husk for a moment.

“What’s this about orgasms?” You turn back to the entrance of the hotel.

Shit.

The one person whom you didn’t want to hear you say that, was standing in front of you, holding about 10 shopping bags, his daughter and his daughter’s partner following suit.

God, what must he think? You want to slam your head into the table, but you refrain yourself.

“Uh Dad?” Charlie taps her dad’s shoulder.

“Maybe let’s refrain from talking your way into the sex life of guests? Anyway, how are you, Y/N? I hope everything’s alright?” Charlie inadvertently snapping you out of your apparent embarrassment.

“Oh yes! Not just alright; absolutely amazing actually. I have important information to tell you so forgive me for my impromptu visit, but it clearly cannot wait,” you practically jump out of your chair, bursting with energy.

My, you haven’t felt this emotion since…

Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

“Well, I did some digging and…” you grab the crusted card from your bag.

“Well, congratulations to you, Miss Charlie Morningstar, Princess of Hell, because your dream is a reality!” You flourish the card to Charlie, and she takes it.

She blinks.

Everyone else blinks.

“Uh, what is this exactly?”

You groan. Fun police much?

“Sinners can be redeemed, I found Sir Pentious in Heaven just this morning,” you concede, impatiently tapping the card.

“Wait really? You aren’t just messing with me?” Charlie’s eyes practically shone with stars.

“Angels aren’t known for that darling.”

As soon as you say that Charlie squeals and jumps up and down, ecstatic.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyooouuuuuu!” She gushes and hugs you extremely tight, constraining your lungs, but you really don’t care.

“This is a pleasant surprise,” You pull away to have Alastor behind you, with that ever-so-familiar-yet-unpleasant grin.

When did he get here?

“Seems like out little Morningstar is becoming quite the entrepreneur,” Alastor places a hand on Charlie’s shoulder, as though they are father-daughter.

Father-daughter, where the daughter’s biological dad is directly beside them.

“Hey, hey now, get your slimy claws off of my daughter, would ya?” Lucifer asks the Radio demon, half laughing.

“Oh? The same daughter you’ve abandoned for countless years on end? The same daughter who had to build this establishment by herself, with no support. The same daughter I’ve been faithful to, in comparison to you? I’ve stuck through thick and thin with her. Hell, I probably fit the Dad position by definition,”

The room is loud with silence; you could probably hear a pin drop.

Alastor’s voice carries those words in a seemingly defensive manner, but you can tell that those words don’t hold any meaning to him.

It seems like you’re the only person to realise that, because with the slam of a door, Lucifer exits the room, leaving an aura of pure anger and jealousy behind.

“Dad!”

“Charlie, maybe you should give him a breath of fresh air-” Vaggie tries pulling her back.

“No! Vaggie, he needs someone to be there with him. God knows what he will do and what if-” Charlie is in a craze to get to the door.

“I’ll go,” you say abruptly. Without question, you go through the door.

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

“Hey, it’s really hot out here, you know,” you stand at the garden door, as the king gazes out on Hell’s not-so-perfect landscape depressingly.

Silence.

“Alastor was just pulling your leg back there, he just wanted to piss you off,” you stand beside him, keeping an appropriate distance.

“I know. That’s not the problem. The problem is that-” his voice hitches.

“Go on,”

“The problem is, is the fact he’s not even wrong; I left Charlie with nothing, she had to support herself before help came along, I barely was there for her throughout all of this, until the very last moment, when she didn’t even need me anymore,” The King of Hell rambles, and fidgets with a small yellow thing in his hand. A bird of some sorts.

A duck?

“I can’t do anything right,” he continues.

Okay, you have to stop getting sidetracked by meagre things.

“Lucifer, listen. Yes, you may not have been there for her before, but you’re here now, and you are ready to help. Yes, I know it’s scary, yes I know it’s hard, but I have an inkling that Charlie would love to start having a bond with her father again. Also, you know her and how she is; she isn’t the type to shut you out. Just try to put some work into it, okay?”

That felt like more of a ramble, than advice, but it seems to suffice for the King of Hell.

“Thank you. I really know why Charlie has taken a liking to you…” he trails off, continuing to fidget with the rubber duck. He squeezes it, and it plays a short, spunky tune.

“And see? Atleast you’re doing something small for now, you should take it easy. By the way, that’s the most adorable rubber duck!” You gush at the plastic fellow, earning a smirk from Lucifer.

“Oh? Changing the subject are we?” The fallen angel teases.

Well, that was out of nowhere, but you just go with the flow.

“Yeah, and what? That’s a fuckin’ cool duck, so I apologise for acknowledging that fact,”

“Ah well, I have better. By the way, why are you talking about orgasms to that porn star- I mean Angel, back there?”

Oh yeah. That happened.

“Gee, why does everyone want to know the juicy details of my life? But really,he was just interested in my sex life, that’s all,”

“Interesting. You know I slept with 2 of Adam’s previous wives?”

“Don’t even try,” you give him a playful shove.

“Eh, worth a shot,”

꧁ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ❂♕☻☹☻♕❂ꕥ꧂

You and the blond-haired demon go back inside, giggling about some disastrous function you went to when you were younger, and how you may or may not have been the leading cause.

Thankfully, the only person in the lobby was Charlie, who jumped to hug her father the second she saw the two of you, making them both cry and profusely apologise to one another.

Yeah, maybe it’s a good time to go. Maybe quietly too this time.

You open the portal, and you are back in Heaven again, in front of the pearly gates of the place you call home.

As you open the door and turn into the living room, you nearly jump out of your skin.

“Hey,” The sound of your husband’s voice rings through your ears.

“I ate your pancakes from this morning,”

“Alright. I’ll make dinner soon, but I’m tired right now,” you pave your way to your bedroom, when Adam pulls you back.

“Where were you even?”

“Places,” you try to pull away, but the First Man doesn’t relent.

“Where? You weren’t in Heaven, were you?”

“Alright fine. I was in Hell, cleaning up the mess you and your little play soldiers made by the way,”

“Were you not there the other day? Why are you so attached to this-” Cogs turn in Adam’s head.

“You were with him, weren’t you? You fucking slut,” Adam’s hand swiftly slaps you across the face. A small cut of golden blood streaks down your face.

“What the fuck? Of course Lucifer is gonna be there, you dumbass?! Why do you think I’m gonna sleep with-” You dodge a flying porcelain jug that was headed in your general direction.

“That fucking demon, thinking he’s hot shit and- and all, just fucking whoever he wants-” The Angel starts storming around the living room, just throwing random shit about, like a kid having a tantrum, making colourful insults while doing so.

You sigh and go into the kitchen to make dinner; hopefully Adam would have blown off enough steam by then.

“Oh and- You better not go back there again, you got it?”

“…Fine,” You slam the door behind you.

Clearly, you have to be more furtive about your visits to the underworld.

For now, maybe you should cook some dinner, and a warm bath.

Your back really hurts.

꧁🥀☽💫✶♛🐣♕✶💫☾🥀꧂

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