myilou ♜

You could feel Jouno's frustration. You knew he was aware of Tecchou's excitement, and it caused your blood to boil. He couldn't just wait until you both got home? Suddenly, you felt a hand come up to rest against your thigh. You jumped up slightly from the sudden physical contact. But of course, it was no other than your needy boyfriend. Trying his hardest to get you to pay attention to him. But to no avail. You kept your eyes forward and didn't share a single glance his way. He noticed and pouted to himself. Moving his hand further up your thigh and under your skirt uniform. You felt his fingers dance along the inseam of your panties... and that was your final straw.

Suddenly, you jolted upright. Clearing your throat before you spoke up. "I apologize for the disturbance, but it seems as though Tecchou is feeling under the weather. I'll take him to the infirmary. Please excuse us." With that, you harshly yanked Tecchou up out of his seat. Dragging him out of the meeting room doors and down the hall. Stomping your way toward the infirmary with Tecchou in tow. "Y/n I'm not feeling sick? Why are you-" Before he could finish his statement, he was hauled into the infirmary. You shut the door quietly before turning the lock. Whipping your head in Tecchou's direction before you spat out.

"Don't play coy with me now, Suehiro. I've told you time and time again... we can't do these things at work. But now that I'm saying this out loud... I think you like it. You want someone to catch on to how pathetic you are for me, hm?" All he could do was gape at you, nodding his head slowly as he squeezed his thighs together. You didn't fail to notice this. You let your gaze trail lower. Taking in his pathetic state entirely. His face was completely flushed, and his eyes were half-lidded. He scored his bottom lip with his teeth as he brought his hand up to cup his painfully hard cock through his work uniform. Slowly palming himself and squeezing his legs together even tighter than before.

You clicked your tongue. Moving your hands down to pull Tecchou's away from his clothed cock before you quipped out. "I never said you could touch yourself. Are you really this desperate? And at work of all places? How pathetic... get on your fucking knees, now." You shot him an icy glare as he immediately obeyed. Dropping down to his knees before you with a small thud. You smirked down at him before you cooed, "Good boy... now, put your hands behind your back. You are not allowed to move them without my permission, understood?" All he did was nod up at you with hearts in his eyes. But that wasn't the response you were looking for.

You knocked his hat off his head in one swift motion. Fisting his locks harshly and yanking his head back by his hair. He let out a needy whine as you brought your face mere centimeters away from his own. "Oh? This is the response I get? Even after I called you a good boy and everything? No, this won't do. You'll have to use your words... otherwise, I'll leave you here to take care of your little 'problem' all by yourself. You don't want that, hm?" His eyebrows scrunched together in frustration from the thought alone. His chestnut eyes were swirling with desperation. It caused a sly smile to find its way to your features.

Tecchou let out one last whimper before he babbled out, "I understand I won't move unless I'm told. I promise. I'll be a good boy for you, so, please... please touch me, mommy I need you so fucking badly." Your smile grew wide from his shameless confession. Pleased with his response, you let up on his tousled locks. "There we go... that wasn't so hard, hm?" With that, you pulled away from his face. Standing proud before him as you brought your boot down to his clothed cock. You twisted your ankle as you did so. Reveling in the sounds of Tecchou's pathetic mewls. "Ah, w-wait... I really need to pee, and it feels w-weird when you do that..." He blurted out, squeezing his thighs further together. His legs were shaking slightly, you noted.

"Well, you should have thought about that before you decided to act like a needy slut. You'll just have to hold it. You can do that for mommy, right?" Your voice was laced with feigned sympathy as you moved your boot up a little further. This time, pressing on his lower tummy. "Please- stop! I-I can't hold it when you do that-!" Tecchou whined, doubling over as you pressed your heavy boot into his tummy further. "Oh, but you will hold it. If you make a fucking mess, I won't let you cum." Tecchou shot his head up in your direction at your words. His eyes were blown wide, and his mouth was slightly ajar. His fingers twitched behind his back. But he knew that if he moved them, it would only mean trouble.

You pulled your boot away from his tummy for a brief moment. Moving it down between his legs and kicking his thighs apart. "Keep your legs open for me. That's it... good boy." Heat swirled in his lower tummy from the nickname. Tecchou wanted nothing more than to be a good boy for you. You shoved your leg right in between his parted thighs. Wedging your shin right into his crotch. Tecchou whined at the sudden friction against his aching dick. He wanted- no, needed more friction. But he didn't dare move a muscle. Simply waiting for your next order. "Go on, hump my leg like the pathetic loser you are."

Tecchou's resolve snapped the second those words left your lips. Wasting no time lifting his hips up. Sloppily thrusting up against your shin. The small amount of friction was enough to leave him breathless. "Thank you! thank you, mommy... feels so good..." You couldn't help but laugh at his pathetic state. He was whining so loudly as his clothed cock dragged along the expanse of your shin. You could feel his length pulsing against your leg with each passing thrust. You experimentally pushed your leg closer in between his parted thighs. The further you leaned into him, the more pressure was applied to his full bladder.

He whined at the feeling as a little bit threatened to dribble past his slit. "Mommy, I-I can't hold it any longer- m' gonna make a mess..." Tecchou grunted out. Tears threatened to spill past his waterline as he gazed up at you. Begging for mercy with his pathetic stare. You pulled your leg away from his clothed cock in an instant. Taking a step back. "Then, I'm not helping you get off if you can't control yourself. Didn't you beg me for this? What, and now you can't handle it, hm? How pitiful..." His tears were flowing freely now. Running down his cheeks and past his chin. Falling into his lap as his dick continued to throb from within the confines of his trousers.

He felt so frustrated and... pent up. He couldn't help himself. How could he when you looked so perfect all the time? You got him so worked up with the littlest things, and he hardly felt any shame. This isn't the first time you had to sneak away from a meeting with Tecchou in hand because he couldn't contain his excitement at work. Oh, no. This happened frequently, and it only got worse when you both were alone in the confines of your shared apartment. Tecchou was shamelessly desperate for you always, and whenever you would ask him why he got so turned on over the littlest things... he would say, "I just love you so much. Everything you do drives me crazy." He was entirely oblivious to the fact that he's a complete pervert when it comes to you. But, even still... how could you reject such a sweet sentiment from your darling Suehiro?

"No, please- I-I need to cum! Please, I'll hold it. I swear, please don't stop- not here... not now. Please, mommy?" He hiccuped through his words as more tears rolled down his cheeks. His legs were twitching and shaking so much. You could see a small wet spot spreading on the front of his pants. Whether it was from his precum or his piss was unclear to you. You let out a drawn-out sigh before you spoke up once more. "You're so lucky I love you, Suehiro." You took a step toward his pathetic frame. Doubling over and leaning your face into his. You licked the tears away from his cheeks. Your tongue traced the three little markings under his left eye before you pulled back. Jamming your leg back in between his quivering thighs. Adding the perfect amount of friction as he awaited your next order. His hands desperately twitched behind his back. He wanted nothing more than to touch you at this moment.

"Go on, get yourself off with my leg. But make it quick. The others must be wondering why we aren't back by now." He let out a breath he wasn't even aware he was holding before lifting his hips. Pressing further into your shin as he humped up against you fervently. He felt the pressure building further inside his tummy. Not entirely sure if it was from his desire to cum, or his need to empty his bladder. "Thank you, mommy. Thank you so much... feels so good... too good- ah!" He pressed his needy cock into your leg once more before his hips stilled. You pulled back immediately. Getting a better view of his flustered form as he came inside his pants.

He was whining so much as his eyes rolled back into his head. His thighs twitched uncontrollably. His hips slowly moved on their own. A small moan slipped past his lips. "Fuck- mommy!" He threw his head back. Giving you a perfect view of his adam's apple as it bobbed up and down in his throat. Your eyes shot down to his clothed cock. Enjoying the sight of his dick twitching against the constricting fabric. He made a complete mess in his boxers. Tecchou let out a needy mewl as the last ropes of his cum spilled out of his slit. Further dirtying his underwear.

In an instant, Tecchou's head jolted upright. His eyes locked with yours. They were swirling with worry as his face turned a deep shade of red. "Y/n... it's gonna come out, I can't hold it- ahn...!" Before you could register what he was saying, you saw it. The front of his trousers grew wetter by the second. Dampening and darkening the cloth of his work uniform pants. Your eyes were blown wide from the realization. Your boyfriend was currently pissing himself right in front of you. "Fuck...! hmn..." Tecchou groaned. Drool seeped past his lips as his eyes rolled back into his skull. The relief of finally emptying his bladder was just as pleasurable as cumming the way he just did only moments prior.

All you could do was watch in shock. Your own core swirled with heat from the sight before you. Seeing the strongest Hunting Dog reduced to this was certainly a power trip. After a minute more, Tecchou opened his eyes slowly. Gazing up at you with half-lidded eyes. He panted harshly as he tried to regain his breath. Suddenly you heard a knock at the door. The sound alone broke you out of your trance. Fear flooded your entire body as the person behind the door spoke up. "Tecchou, Y/n! How many times do I have to tell you both... fucking at work is prohibited. You sick fucks... and Tecchou, you're a disgusting pervert." Was all Jouno said before it was silent once more. You could only assume he made his way back to the meeting room.

"Ah, shit... I knew this would happen. Hiro, quick! We need to get you cleaned up before Fukuchi arrives. Being caught by Jouno was enough humiliation for one day... are you even listening to me right now...?" You gaped down at Tecchou. He was completely unbothered by this whole situation. He actually seemed... pleased with himself? He gazed up at you with hearts in his eyes before he rose to his feet. Standing right in front of you before he craned his neck down. Leaning his face closer into yours before he asked,

"Can we do that again when we get home?"

yummy... um... sorry i let the horny thoughts win...

Goofy? (more serious/humorous in the moment?)

Definitely more serious

Given his personality, and the added pressure of trying to get everything right for you, he’s a little bit anxious and trying to mask it by pacing himself through it. He looks like he knows what he’s doing, but especially if it’s the first time, or if you both haven’t seen each other in a while, his hands shake when he goes to open the lube. He’s hiding it in the blanket and talking you through it lmaooo

I think if you cracked a good joke, he’d laugh and be surprised he had it in himself, but he’d try to get back to business as soon as possible

If you manage to break open his shell after a few years, he might even joke back!

Hair (how well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Has a bush the same colour as the hair on his head, with a thick happy trail to match. Seriously, when he takes off his shirt it’s a religious experience

He doesn’t remove it unless you want him to. I don’t think it makes it onto his list of priorities. He’s also constantly covered up in multiple layers, so it’s not like there’s a chance of anyone except you getting a scandalous peek

He trims for health reasons - he doesn’t like to get too messy, but once you two are a regular thing, he’ll put a lot more effort into maintaining it, or shaving it off if you want that. I don’t think he’s a waxer

It’s soft! It feels amazing to grind against, and it’s hot to watch it get soaked against his skin as he drives into you

Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

The single most important part of sex for Diluc. In fact, he’s probably not going to bring anything physical up unless he feels like both of you have a strong emotional connection

Throughout the whole thing, he wants to do it properly. He gets you a bouquet of your favourite flowers and takes you out for dinner to a fancy restaurant. If you’re having a relaxed night at home, he’s cuddling with you by the fireplace, listening intently as you talk to him about whatever you want

Big emphasis on kissing and eye contact. I’ve mentioned it before, he just wants to make sure you’re absolutely comfortable to do this

He checks in with you regularly too. He’s such a sweetie, he’s scared that he’ll miss any potential cues because he knows he’s not the most socially gifted. He’s closed off at first, but has the potential to be a wonderful partner if you give him a nudge to open up a little more

Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Sporadic. I think he only really lets himself do it if he’s very pent-up: wet-dreams-every-morning type of pent-up

He dislikes the fact that he wants to do it, or that he has to. I think it makes him feel very disconnected from himself. Like an animal with no control. A lawless heathen. Every time he sees his boner he’s thinking “Archons, I hate myself”. He wishes he could take a cold plunge instead because he feels so sweaty and there’s precum everywhere, but he knows if he does that, the dreams will be Worse the next night

Quick, five-minute affair, done shamefully in the shower so he can clean all the evidence. Scrubs vigorously afterwards, but the embarrassment will never wash off.

Why are Kaeya and Diluc so different…?

Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Creampie. I don’t think it’s the money shot that does it for Diluc – more the complete intimacy of both of you sharing an orgasm, entwined together. Also part of his second (biggest) kink…

Breeding. He doesn’t care if you can get pregnant or not. What sells it for him is the idea of being secure in one another, enough to have a little family. The kids don’t have to be biological. Just the idea of being able to fantasise about a long-term for both of you, where he comes home to you every day, of a love so close it counts as a family, is enough for him

Body worship. This man treasures you and literally thinks you’re heaven on earth, why the hell would he not kiss his way down your body? Or give you oral with reverence fit for a deity?

Praise. He’s definitely more generous with you than the Knights of Favonius. “You’re doing so well” when you take him down to the hilt, “so pretty for me” when you squeeze around him

Scent kink. He knows your scent like the back of his hand. When you’re intimate, he prefers you to not use perfumes so he can be surrounded by you. Plus, it calms him – it reminds him of nights cuddling up to you, and that safe feeling he gets when he watches your chest rise and fall

I think mild somnophilia? He likes watching you sleep, and he wouldn’t mind if you poke him awake for sex. Or if you woke him up by grinding on him and being needy. He’s going to complain, because Mr. Ragnvindr has a reputation to maintain, but he likes the fact that you need him way too much, so he’ll still hold your hips as he grumbles about your endless appetite

If you call him some kind of nickname during sex, he eats it up. He’d want to die if you called him that anywhere else, but when you’re crying out, completely incoherent, he doesn’t really mind. Calling him “honey” or “sweetheart” during sex has him falling apart in seconds. It’s kind of comical how he’s so down bad

Asking him for permission to cum does things to him - “please please let me cum” as he trails his tongue down your torso whilst fingering you? Absolutely. He doesn’t want you to beg, he just likes you to want him

Wearing his clothes! He likes the security of you being wrapped up in his stuff, and the fact that when you do so, it feels like you’re his person. Like you belong to him. He gets a little possessive during sex, unlike his daytime persona, so it very much feels like a switch has been flipped, even if those emotions have existed under the thick walls he’s built for a very long time

Location

Most days he’s firmly a bedroom guy. If you’re a little spicy, you probably start wondering when it’s gonna get good. He just likes the safety, the fact that he can be in his own space and enjoy you, and the ease that comes with cuddling right after in his bed

Also the fact that in the bedroom, the weight of what’s been done hangs in the space. Neither of you can shrug it off, you both have to accept it and move forward. He’s sentimental like that

He might let you cockwarm him at his desk in the estate if you ask nicely (beg for two months). He takes a while to get comfy with it, but if he does, you might be in for a rare fuck on a bar stool. He likes it because the legs are a bit dodgy and don’t allow for a comfortable sit: you’re forced to take him at his deepest and grind, whilst planting your weight against a surface and holding onto him for dear life

The filthiest he’s ever been with you was when he took you on the bartop at Angel’s Share before the patrons came in. He hated the sticky counter and the fact that so many other people had been there, plus the fact he couldn’t go hard because the counter was so gummy he couldn’t get leverage. You couldn’t even clean yourselves up properly, and your shirt stuck to you with the remnants of long-dried alcohol and grubby fingers. Both of you promised that if you ever got that desperate, you’d just use the storeroom

Kaveh, whenever he manages to get a house with you would let you decorate the house according to your tastes, the decor, the colour, there's just something about getting up to see the work the both of you have put into the house that makes his heart swell. He'd also probably add a signature or mark that's related to you in his architectural work.

Albedo would answer those weird late night questions you'd get when you can't sleep and your mind keeps drifting to every and anything or even random questions that pop up everywhere. If not at that moment, i feel like he'd leave out notes to answer your question or even the book if he thinks you'd find it particularly interesting.

JOHNNY is officially a goner with how tight your cunt is gripping his cock. He has you on his lap inside the tent while Gyro is snoring his head off one meter away, drunk on the tequila they passed around the bonfire one hour before. Hands on your hips, he guides your movement as you rock back and forth, riding him. If you’re moaning, he’s moaning more than you. Muffling the noises with his face in the crook of your neck when you suddenly coo out—

“You’re so cute like this, Johnny…”

Eyes widen in shock, Johnny’s hips involuntarily buckle at the praise. 

“F-Fuck, don’t say that when I’m inside you…”

You squeal as he pulls you down harder on his cock and starts thrusting up to match your pace, making you throw your head back. He’s thankful that your eyes are glazed over from the pleasure again because he’s blushing. His lips kissing down your neck, Johnny buries his face in your bouncing tits, sucking on a swollen nipple as he drives into you with wet, desperate plunges.

“C-Call me cute again,” his hips snap as your pussy clenches around him, voice almost begging. “Please.”

And he ends up cumming ten minutes in.

—

Ever the die-hard romantic and the considerate gentleman, GYRO pats himself on the back for letting yours rest on a proper mattress with a soft pillow propped underneath your hips before he loves you down in a room of the inn that you both rented out for the night. This man is having the time of his life drilling you through the bed frame and singing praises about just how good your cunt is eating up his cock. 

Your legs over his shoulder, Gyro squeezes your breast with one hand while the other busies itself with thumbing your clit. God, he loves your moans. Nibbling on your ankle as the Italian blonde kisses up to your inner knee, his hips stutter when you suddenly pull him down by his hair and whine—

“Y-You look so cute when you’re inside me, Gyro…”

The comment baffles him so hard your boyfriend lets out a choked laugh, the sound swiftly morphing into a groan at the feel of your spongy walls squeezing him in. 

“Nyo ho ho, cute? Oh, tesoro, if only you could see yourself right now…”

Leaning down to nip your cheek playfully, Gyro delights in hearing more of your precious noises as he brings you towards another earth-shattering climax.

—

Neither patient nor virtuous, a boulder and a prayer are the two only things keeping DIEGO from a nationwide scandal as he has you bent over a smooth rock at a checkpoint with actual fresh water in high noon. Panties down at your ankles, you’re getting your back blown into oblivion. Diego growls in your ears for you to keep quiet but makes no effort to muffle your moans, his teeth leaving bruises on your neck as his cock rams repeatedly into your cunt.

One curious rider and it’s over for both of your careers.

You lower lip wobbles, eyes teary and half-lidded when you look back at him and choke out—

“Y-You’re so cute— aah~ right now, Dio…”

“…what the fuck did you just call me?”

Threading his fingers in your hair, Diego roughly yanks your head back as he bites down hard on your shoulder, picking up the pace with the thumb on his other hand crushing your clit. 

“Fucking brat. I’ll show you cute when you’re cumming your stupid brains out on my cock.”

—

An old, abandoned barn is where HOT PANTS blows all of her stress out on you. Folded in half over a pile of hay, your legs in the shape of an ‘M’ as she has you stuck in a deep mating press. Skin red all over from constant chafing against the dry grass, pussy beyond overstimulated from the three orgasms Hot Pants has already put you through with her tongue and fingers, and yet she’s still going strong. The meat spray that nearly ended your life on your first encounter is now used on her lower half to rearrange your guts in an entirely different way, hearing her husky voice in your ear about wanting to kill some male contestant who eyed you down earlier.

Stars explode behind your eyelids with every deep, brutal thrust. Drunk on the ecstasy, you loop your arms around her neck and purr against her lips—

“My Pansy’s so cute when she’s fucking me… ♡”

Hot Pants instantly stills.

Her face flushes a deep pink that matches the shade of her hair under the flickering storm lamp, looking like she’s contemplating whether to be flattered or offended. But the softness doesn’t last long enough for you to get the upper hand; she slams her hips harder as her dick hits home against your cervix, forcing tears from your eyes as the pleasure crests into unbearable height.

“I’m balls-deep in your sloppy cunt in the middle of nowhere and you have the nerve to me cute?”

Whatever cheeky comment you have left is promptly forgotten the second she forces your jaws open and spits down on your outstretched tongue—a thick, warm glob that you eagerly swallow with a whine, your pussy clenching harder around her cock like a vice. 

“Good girl,” Hot Pants imitates your purr, reaching her hand—her dirty, cum-soaked hand—up to ruffle your hair like a dog before she presses you further down onto the hay. 

“Let’s see how much you can take before you break…” 

The room was lit with only a dim and flickering candle. Its light was not enough to illuminate the whole room but it was enough to stir the burning sensation of two bodies earnestly grinding to ease excitement.

"We... We shouldn't do this." Diluc's voice came barely a whisper. His hot breath softly hitting your red-tainted cheeks—dangerously close. His hands, dared to rest at the both sides of your waist. He held you firmly, forcing the growing weak restraint he set to himself from breaking. The dress that clings to your body was the only barrier against the hot flesh fuming and tempted to melt into you.

Diluc's fingers trembles in each passing seconds as if holding you was something he deemed himself unworthy—a sinner for someone so divine.

You gave him a teasing grin as you wrap your hands around his shoulders, locking him in an alarming stance. You watched as he took a mouthful gulp, making his adam's apple move up and down from the action.

"I wonder who told you that, Master Diluc." Your voice came laced with endearing mischief while combing the back of his head. Your fingers twirling the scarlet strands of his hair.

The face of the usually calm and collected Diluc was washed away by swarming blush upon his cheeks—giving a visible pinkish hue despite the dim light. His ears, growing red from the harsh fluster and his half-lidded eyes stared intensely back to yours.

It was a sight to behold indeed.

"What's the matter, Master Diluc? You look rather unwell."

For a moment, he didn't mutter anything, he was silent. His lips parted but only to a simple degree.

"You best not test my self-restraint." He finally spoke; his face flushed with fever.

"Am I... Really testing your restraints?" You grinned then giggled. Your hands moving to caress his right cheek, your thumb soothing his smooth skin.

"Well, tell me about it, Master Diluc. What's the results of my... testing?" You continued.

He leaned against your warm palm and his eyes momentarily closed and relaxed. His gaze then fixated to your eyes... to your lips... then found its way back to your eyes.

"What do you think?"

"I don't happen to be a mind reader, care to tell me?" You endlessly teased.

His patience run thin, looking at you with his flustered face. The fingers that lay on your waist slowly begins to trace it. His eyes growing hazy as though his restraint finally snapped.

"In that case, I happened to be a person who explains well using action." He uttered swiftly as if he's racing against time.

Diluc didn't waste any more of this precious moment, he courageously leaned against your plump lips. His kiss was hungry—famished from the endless fantasies that spirals in his head. His grip on your waist wavers from gentleness and rough hold.

You submitted to his lean—to his fervent passion. Diluc's tounge eagerly tried to pry open your mouth in which you willingly welcomed his entrance.

He was clumsy, from the result of years of unfamiliarity with women, but you can feel the burning desire within him. He clings unto your lips while tracing his hands all over your body; to your waist, back, stomach, and dangerously near your chest.

You can't understand whether he's shy or gentlemanly. Perhaps both.

Your hands grabbed his and guided towards both to your tits. He was reluctant—nervous from the sudden contact. However, as soon as he understood what you want, he kneaded it thoroughly. Determined to give pleasure.

His fingers digged and twisted both of your nipples, earning a soft gasp from you. And from that, it was enough confirmation for him to continue.

He didn't stopped kissing you and you never stopped him. The Diluc who was once inexperienced with kissing is now slowly making the kiss satisfying. His tounge swirling with yours, it was rushed yet it felt tantalising.

You were both under a hazzing atmosphere filled with lust and pleasure. It's not like you couldn't stop, it's because you dont want to stop.

The kiss lasted longer than anyone you have kissed so far. And right now, the only thing keeping you from setting a new record was the need to breathe.

You both parted your wet lips, a string of saliva still wanting to connect the both of you.

"You better not regret this." He said with ragged breaths. Your chest heaving up and down as air seemed to disappear at this very moment.

"You better not regret this too, Master Diluc. Considering that I'm... your first, are you sure you want to continue this?" You laughed. It was naughty and you know it was enough to irk him.

Of course you know the answer but who would pass the opportunity to tease this... inexperienced Diluc Ragnavindr?

Before you could even make another remark, he suddenly wrapped his right arm to your back and his left arm sinking to the back of your knees—carrying you with ease and left you with no more room for words.

He looked like he had enough, snapping the last shred of restraint he meticulously built throughout the years he spent with you.

He stride towards his bedroom bed and carefully lay you down on the comforting mattress. You can smell his faint scent on his pillows which intensifies the growing heat in you—using your thighs to ease the bothersome feeling beneath your panties.

You watched him, excitement tempted to burst from your chest. It is not your first time doing this. But it is surely your first time fucking Diluc. It took years of countless teasing, tempting, and advancement to get him on the bed. And now you can see the fruit of your hard labor.

He then started to unbutton his clothing, throwing it at some corner and revealing his built body. His sweat, dripping from his neck to his chest. His abdomen hard, packed with tough muscles. Your eyes innocently...looked at a big bulging tent in his pants. You sighed as lust intensified.

Diluc maneuvered on top of you and leaned again to your swollen lips. His fingers danced with the locks of your dress, it attemps to undress you as if you were a present he can't wait to open.

The straps on your shoulders slid, revealing the warm skin of your chest. Cold air hit your nipples, you can feel the sudden tingling sensation. Diluc then moved to your lips to the crook of your neck. His mouth devouring and sucking your collarbones—leaving marks that can be obviously seen.

His tounge then grazed your neck then to your chest. Sucking on your left tit like a starved toddler. Feeling confident, Diluc slid his hand on your upper thigh—caressing the smooth skin. You gasped and moan from his touch, it was enough to electrify your whole body.

At this point, he's just exploring something he used to wish to conquer. His hands lingers, warm against your flesh.

"Eager are we?" You breathlessly whispered. Diluc didn't bat an eye and continued to kiss your abdomen—growing closer to your clothed pussy.

You can feel your panties growing slick and wet. It was rather uncomfortable.

Sensing your impatience, Diluc stopped kissing you and focused on caressing your thighs. He looked at you intensively before slowly spreading your legs and lifting your dress. You looked at him, both annoyed and aroused.

"...Eager are we?" He grinned. Eyeing the wet pool on your panties as if it is hypnotizing him.

and right there and then, you knew things are about to be incredibly messy.

Diluc’s boots thump through the halls of the Dawn Winery, heavy footsteps that carry not just his aching body. A relieved sigh breaks the deafening silence of the empty house. His fiery red hair is tousled and tangled in knots that interrupt his natural wavy locks, matching the bloodstains that taint his clothes. He’s borne the insignia of Darknight Hero for many moons now, quietly guarding his nation from the infamous Fatui and Abyss Order. Though this title is not new, he still struggles with the weight it bears upon him, keeping up his secret double life as vigilante and wine tycoon. 

But then you came along, brightening his life with every sarcastic remark and wide eyed grin you’d throw his way. After he’d finally mustered up the courage to confess his feelings for you, he’d grant you the honor of knowing his secret identity as the Darknight Hero. You knew it’d come with challenges, including long nights in an empty bed while Diluc slayed mages and compiled intel, but you were willing to tough it out for him. Oddly, Diluc has a harder time coping with that fact than you do. He’d want nothing more than to spend every night performing a regular nightly routine, snuggling next to you until the birds ring in the morning, like normal couples do. But he’s dedicated his life to this mission as the Darknight Hero, avenging his father and preventing others from being hurt like he was. 

Diluc quietly creeps into your shared room, candles alight dimming slowly as their wicks burn to their final embers. Your arms are loosely wrapped around Diluc’s pillow, a comforting anchor pulling you into a deep sleep with hints of his cologne wafting the air around you. A sweet smile creeps upon his lips replacing his focused scowl. He undresses, washing himself of the evidence of his transgressions. Climbing into bed carefully, he tucks your hair so tenderly behind your ears so he can see your beautiful face. 

“I’m so sorry I was gone for so long, my love. I hope you’re having nothing but the sweetest of dreams,” 

He cups your cheek, gingerly placing a kiss upon your forehead. 

“I will always protect you, protect our peace, our nation. I just hate that it means I have to be away from you for so long.”

He pauses. 

“But one day, once I step down, we can finally live the life we’ve always wanted. Three children, a playground just beyond the grape vines, and maybe Uncle Kaeya could babysit every now and again.” 

He smiles, picturing the scene. 

“Until then, I hope you’ll wait for me. I love you more than you can ever know, and I always will. Good night, my love.” 

He blows out the last candle, and pulls the sheets over his bare chest to sink down into rest. 

"Here. Wear this." His words came out more as a demand than a request, forgetting to place the 'you should' in front of the sentence. But in your hand lay a long, golden earring, similar to the one that hung from Eighteen's. Perhaps it was the other piece? Regardless, you clipped it onto your ear, and the Segment crossed his arms in approval. "Good. You should... keep it on."

By now, everyone had understood what was going on when they saw the earring shake with every turn of your head. The necklace was just something sweet and innocent, but Eighteen had fanned the flames of war. Now, it was a matter of who would manage to woo you the most.

Twenty-Five was the next to slip a bracelet onto your arm during your next check-up. For someone who hid his emotions, he seemed quite proud of himself.

"Not only does it fit your aesthetic preferences, but it also serves as a communication device by simply pressing the button." The Segment adjusted his glasses as he eagerly explained. "Impressive, isn't it?"

A brooch of a Sumeru Rose was pinned to your clothes one day by Sixty-Five. He had come up from behind you as you sat at your vanity, getting ready for the day, and hooked it onto your shirt with gentle fingers.

"It looks good on you," the older man complimented you, hands brushing over your chest. "I hope it's to your liking. I've been wanting to gift you something for a while now." Sixty-Five murmurs quietly, less interested in competing with the others, and more so seeking your own happiness.

Forty-Five was casual with his gift, showing you the ear cuff that sported flowers and the like as decoration before tucking it behind your ear. He hummed in approval at his work before kissing the sensitive area.

"There we go. Hm, Eighteen should have found the other piece to his earring if he didn't want to share," Forty-Five traced down the shell of your ear, where the ear cuff hung, wrapping around your ear with small chains hanging down. "Quite lovely, my darling."

Thirty-Five was perfectly calm as he claimed your ring finger for himself, pushing a ring onto it. It was like it belonged to him from the very beginning. The Segment grasps your hand, holding it up for closer inspection, before kissing your hand.

"Naturally, it suits you. I knew it would," Thirty-Five practically purrs as he pulls you closer, his other arm wrapping around your waist. He is possessive and would like you for himself, but this is how he stakes his claim for now. "Oh, but do tell me if you like it. I wouldn't want you to have to stare at something that you aren't fond of."

Lohen stood up and went out, only to find you leaning back on the wall of the building, your eyes closed while holding onto your stomach, trying very hard to hold it in. Your flushed cheeks were noticeable in the moonlight, as well as your dizzy expression. Lohen found it absolutely adorable, especially the way you were so vulnerable at this moment.

Wait, what?

Lohen shook his head before going over to you, leaning beside you as he peeked at your face.

“Caaaap, don’t you look great?” Lohen teased you, making you open your eyes and meet with his. You sighed as you heard his tease, your head going back against the wall.

“Not right now, Lohen…” You mumbled to him, your hand going through your hair to soothe your headache. “Why’d you leave Varka? He’s gonna complain later..”

“Varka’s a grown man, he can handle being by himself for a few minutes. Besides, I think he’d just find another unlucky knight to listen to his stories,” he said, earning a small smile from you. “And I think a little bartender inside is starting to get worried, you know.”

“Master Diluc?” You uttered under your breath, trying to straighten out your thoughts.

“Mmmhm. He looked like he was five seconds away from snatching your wine,” he told you with lilt in his voice, playful in his nature. “You look like you would’ve defended that bottle with your life, given how bored you were. That’s rude, y’know?”

You were startled that he caught on to your boredom– but then again, this was Lohen you were talking about. It was annoying how perceptive he was. You couldn’t get a moment’s peace with him at all.

“I don’t think Varka noticed… Did he?” You doubted yourself, looking at him. Then, you let out a breath that smelled of wine, your hand combing through your hair. “Ugh, I feel sick…” You complained, your eyebrows furrowed.

"Wouldn't you want to sit down if you’re feeling dizzy, Captain? I must say, you have less survival instinct than me, and that’s saying a lot,” Lohen said, going to see if there was an available chair from one of the tables set up outside the tavern.

“No thanks, I feel better standing…”

“That’s stupid, Cap.”

“Lohen–“ He didn’t listen to you, grabbing your wrist to make you sit on the chair, not noticing how your face grew significantly redder at his boldness.

“Rude…” You said, immediately leaning on the table for support. He sat right beside you, undeniably close, just in case you needed some support. Just in case.

“You’re sooo red,” he said playfully, a smile on his face as he stared at yours, watching your face become flustered. “Are you sure you’re alriiiight?” He knew you were, but he couldn’t help but tease you. It was basically second nature to him.

Although, your reaction was far from his expectations.

In your drunken stupor, you chuckled at his attempt at a joke, leaning back on your chair, a small smile on your face. He watched your expression as you laughed, the same light from the moon that highlighted your flushed face also making you seem so ethereal right now. He couldn’t help but smile too. He didn’t realize his face became red as well.

Your head landed on the corner of his chair, unbearably close to his shoulder. He wondered why you hadn’t just rested your head there. It was much more comfortable, he’d say.

“Should we go back inside?” You said softly, looking up at the sky from your position. “I feel like he’s going to tease us when we go back in, though,” Lohen laughed at your comment, inconspicuously moving closer so your head was on his shoulder.

“Sounds like him. Do you want to go in? I quite like the breeze right now,” he couldn’t be any more obvious that he wanted to stay there, even for a little while longer, with you. He thanked the archons above that you were drunk beyond saving.

“Mmm… No, not yet… I like it here,” you said, slurring your words as you got comfortable on Lohen’s shoulder. If he weren’t flustered already, now he was malfunctioning. Lohen sighed, leaning his head on top of yours with his face buried in your hair, savoring your presence.

“Yeah? You like it riiight here? With me?” He tried to get more out of you, that mischievous smirk back on his face like it was a permanent feature on him.

“Don’t flatter yourself, Lohen,” you said, smacking the back of his head with your free hand, the other resting on the table. He laughed at your action, smoothing over the place where you had hit him.

“Is this how a captain disciplines their officers?” He muttered almost flirtatiously in your hair.

“Don’t phrase it like that!” He laughed at your words, his fingers subconsciously going through your hair. It felt almost relaxing.

“Alright, alright! Calm dooown, won’t you? You’re already drunk out of your mind, do you wanna make it worse?”

“Shut up, Lohen…” Your reprimanding tone earned another chuckle from him, going quiet. He lifted his head from yours, looking down at your face. He didn’t realize he’d been staring for too long, not until you looked up at him and caught his gaze.

“…What?” You asked, confused on why he was staring at you. He looked away just as quickly, his face crimson.

“…Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“I’m serious, cap! Won’t you believe me?”

“Why would I ever?" You both laughed, completely forgetting about the Grand Master inside the tavern, probably chatting up the uninterested bartender. He watched your face, at how you just looked so comfortable with him.

You chatted like that for a while, not noticing the time pass by as the stars in Teyvat’s sky seemed to shine a little bit brighter, your laughter filling up the empty streets as your feeling of sickness started to subside.

He had a feeling then, that he wanted to feel like this every day, and that he wanted to feel it with you.

৻ꪆ – Childe

The Fatui’s gala always included very powerful figures from all over the nation, which would become useful in the Fatui’s future plans.

Childe was dressed to the nines in a suit that was tailored just for this occasion, a charming smile on his face as he entertained the guests on behalf of the Tsaritsa. He was easy to trust. With his charisma, you wouldn’t even guess that he was a harbinger, it didn’t match him at all.

You watched from afar, drinking the champagne that the servers had given you, not wanting to mingle in with the crowd yourself. You merely observed them, seeing façade after façade of the most powerful people of Snezhnaya. It was clear how uninterested you were, almost wanting to sneak out and enjoy your solace instead.

Childe finished his conversation with a duke from another nation, excusing himself as he saw you, looking too good for his own liking. He walked over to where you were, your eyes following his tall figure.

“How are you enjoying this, comrade? Up to your standards?” He asked you, getting a glass of wine from the tray of the server.

“It could be better,” you said, not trying to hide how utterly bored you were. You swirled your champagne around on your glass, looking through the crowd.

“Not liking it much, are you now?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t, but your face tells me all I need to know,” he saw a server holding some pastries he knew you liked, calling them over and getting two. “Eat up, comrade. Or is this not to your liking too?”

You huffed a smile at his words, eating the food in small quantities. “Demanding as always, Childe?” he hummed at your question, eating his own.

“No ‘Ajax’ today? I can never get used to you calling me that, comrade,” he commented on your use of his title, a smile on his face. You set down your glass, looking up at him.

“Official business means official titles. I can’t be caught being unprofessional with the Tsaritsa’s weapon of war now, can I?” You flashed him a smile, mirroring his own.

“You do have a point there, comrade,” he agreed, setting down his food on the plate. He thought for a bit, a hand on his chin. “Then why don’t we get out of here? What do you say?”

You thought about it for a moment, like you were even considering staying here. You nodded after a few seconds, letting Childe drag you into a private part of Zapolyarny palace where guests weren’t allowed. He’d make an exception for you.

The wind from the palace terrace made you feel at ease despite Snezhnaya’s harsh weather, glad to be away from the stifling crowd of masks and elegant gowns and suits. You and Childe leaned against the railing, taking in the scenery from high above.

“So…” Childe started. “Still calling me my title or what?”

You looked at him, his hair blowing in the direction of the wind, messing up its style.

“Do you dislike it that much?”

“Not at all! I’m just not used to hearing it from you, that’s all,” he explained to you, scratching the back of his head. He sighed, admiring the sight of the city… and you. He stared at you for a moment, your outfit perfectly fitting you and matching the theme of the gala. Safe to say, he was absolutely enamored by you.

“Staring is rude, Ajax,” your soft voice snapped him out of his trance, returning to his charming persona. You chuckled at his sudden shift. You said his name with such familiarity and warmth, it made him feel something he shouldn’t. You looked back at the city below.

“Can you blame me when you look radiant this evening, comrade?” Childe had a bad habit of buttering you up every chance he got. Yet, every time, it makes you blush and look away. It was one of the things you could never get used to with him.

“You flatter me.”

“Is it flattery if it’s the truth?” You thought he was joking, almost laughing before you properly looked at him, stopping yourself when you saw how serious he was.

“…Not technically, no,” you said, feeling hot all of the sudden, despite the cold. Since when was he like this?

He noticed your flushed out face, furrowing his eyebrows. “Are you okay? Is it too cold out here?” He asked, pressing the back of his palm to your forehead to check your temperature. You blushed even harder, turning away to avoid his gaze as you nodded.

He shrugged off the coat of his suit, wrapping it around your frame to somehow shield you from the cold.

“Let’s go over there. It’s warmer,” he said, catching your wrist as he pulled you under the shade of the palace. “Better?”

“Yeah, thanks, Ajax,” you said, looking up at him. Only then did he see how his coat fit you and how you looked so comfortable in it. Wow, you looked so…

He didn’t continue his thoughts as he shook his head, watching as you let the coat hang off your shoulders.

“What are you thinking of right now?” You saw how he kept on zoning out when he looked at you, thinking deeply— or maybe not thinking at all.

“…That you look beautiful today,” he said suddenly, in such a tender and meek way— unexpected from that of a harbinger— catching the both of you by surprise. His eyes widened as he processed what he just said, smiling to cover up his embarrassment. “Ah, I mean– uhm…” He stumbled on his words, looking away.

“Thank you, Ajax,” You chuckled as he fumbled, seeing him cover his face with his gloved hands. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

“You say that like you’re being forced to,” he said, a small pout forming on his lips.

“I’m serious! You look good tonight,” you reassure him, a lighthearted smile on your face. “Not that you haven’t heard that today, anyway,” you added, adjusting his coat on your shoulders.

“I like hearing it from you better than those people. They just want something, most of the time,” he quietly says. You hummed. Being a powerful figure in Snezhnaya yourself, you understood where he was coming from.

“Some of the maidens inside seemed pretty interested, Ajax. You really don’t want to test your chances?”

“However interested they are, comrade, I’m even less interested. Besides, I’m too busy for that,” Childe clarified, his head leaning back on the wall.

Just then, from inside the palace, the music for the cotillion portion of the dance started.

“Are you sure you’re still not interested?” You asked him teasingly, looking at the window that could overlook the hall of the gala. “They look like they’re looking for you,” you said, seeing several damsels look around the hall for a ginger-haired harbinger.

“…Well, maybe I am a little bit interested in dancing with one person,” Childe mumbled, not looking at the window, but rather at you. You saw in the reflection of his gaze, tearing your eyes away from the gala and looking up at him. A sudden realization dawned upon you, but you didn’t comment on it.

“You should ask them to dance, then, no? It’s a waste of a good night,” You said.

“Hmm, okay…” He turned to you, offering his hand. “May I have this dance, then, comrade?” He asked you, his eyes shining in the night, a smile on his face. He looked relaxed and composed, but if you knew him more than the mask he wears, you’d know how nervous he was right now.

But all his thoughts went away when you smiled at him, putting your hand on top of his. “You’re quite the sweetheart, aren’t you, Ajax?” You said it like you expected him to ask you. How could you be so calm right now?

He pulled you closer into a dance, his hand on your waist, while his other supported yours. He started to sway you around, following the beat of the music that leaked from inside. In that moment, he couldn’t deny how enchanted he was by you.

Thirty minutes passed since you started dancing, your head rested on his chest as your steps began to become more minimal. Childe was basically hugging you at this point, his hand on your waist keeping you close. His chin rested on top of your head, the hands that held each other dropped to your sides, yet still enclosed. It all felt too natural for two people who worked with each other.

“Why not dance with people with actual influence, Ajax? I feel like you’d benefit from that better,” you said quietly.

“Influence on what?”

“Y’know, the Fatui… Connections and stuff like that,” you explained, looking up at him. He looked down to see you. He hummed in thought, his hand on your waist moving to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“…Well, what about the one who has an influence on me?” He questioned softly, spinning you around when the music called for it. Just then, you landed close to his face, and you saw him look at your lips, and back to your eyes. Childe sighed then, pulling you closer to hug you, trapping you in his arms as he hides his face— which was currently blushing profusely— into the crook of your neck.

“What’s wrong, Ajax?” You asked gently, hugging him back in an attempt to comfort him.

I think I love you.

He was so, so tempted to just tell you, to risk your companionship, to risk you.

But, he didn’t. As much as he claimed to love you, he couldn’t, in a thousand years, imagine his life with you if he chose to risk it all.

“…Nothing,” he mumbled into your neck, letting himself savor your presence. Yeah. This was fine. This was enough for him.

᯽ – Wanderer

Nahida had assigned him on an important paired assignment a few months back, with his very willing partner— you.

You and Wanderer were complete opposites. He had a permanent scowl on his face and an aura that could scare away scholars from his mere glance. While you were one of the few people that grew to know how caring he was really like.

Recently though, your research paper with him was going downhill faster than the fall of a certain fatui harbinger, previous scholar! (Not that he cares.)

You were stressed to a tee, and it wasn’t helping that your partner had a habit of cramming like a maniac and getting things done right before the deadline. The results of your research didn’t match your hypothesis at all! Nothing also aligned with the papers you’ve already seen with similar topics. Your professor was really going to fail you now…

You were hunched back on the table, books, quills, and parchment paper placed in an organized mess that covered the entire table. Your hands were dirty with ink and papercuts were a common sight to you now. Meanwhile, a certain puppet calmly wrote on a scratch, looking as composed as ever.

While you… How could he even begin to describe you? You looked like you hadn’t slept in days— in this case, was true— and your hair stuck out from all directions because of how much your hand went through it in habit.

“Calm down, won’t you? Before you get permanent wrinkles on your face. You don’t wanna look worse than you already are, do you?” He said to you arrogantly, putting down his quill and turning his attention to your form.

You sighed, fixing your posture, your head in your hands.

“Just ‘cause you’re a puppet doesn’t mean you can say that about humans, y’know,” you commented halfheartedly, not in the mood to argue with him and his annoyingly pretty face.

“I’m just saying it like it is.”

“Maybe try focusing on the paper more than me, huh?”

“How can’t I focus on you when you look like an absolute mess?” He crossed his hands as he leaned back on the chair.

Maybe it was the late hour getting to you, or maybe it was the fact you were months into this and you were nowhere near finishing it, but you just couldn’t deal with him!

“Look, if you’re just gonna stay and bitch around, just leave. I can do more by myself and with you hanging around and doing nothing,” you couldn’t deny that the stress was definitely affecting your words and actions, but you felt unapologetic then, hyper-focused on the project that was due in a month.

Wanderer sighed. He wasn’t a stranger to the moments when you’d lash out on him, knowing it wasn’t really him you were angry with. He knew there was no use trying to get you to calm down when you were upset.

“Fine. But when I come back, you better have cooled off,” he said, standing up and leaving you in the library. Ugh, how annoying could he get?

You continued to work for a while, still stuck on the same thing.

You didn’t realize how much time had passed until Wanderer came back, this time with a cup of your favorite drink and some food from Puspa Café. He returned to your side, placing the food on the table and the coffee in front of you. You glanced at it, putting your quill down.

You stayed silent, suddenly feeling very bad about what you said to him earlier. He didn’t respond, watching as you drank the coffee, then sighing.

“Next time you do that, I’m dropping you as my partner,” he threatened, grabbing the paper you were working on before he arrived. You didn’t think much of his threat, seeing as he’s said several times before and yet, here you were. Still there.

“Sure…”

“I’m serious.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, leaning back on your chair, sighing deeply.

“Stop that,” he said suddenly, reading through what you wrote. He annotated on it, correcting your mistakes and adding his suggestions.

“Stop what?” You looked at him, now eating the food he’d gotten you. It was only now did you realize that you hadn’t eaten anything that day, and it was already late.

“That sighing. You’re so stressed, it’s getting bothersome.”

“It’s not my fault that this paper just can’t seem to cooperate!” You defended yourself, a frown on your lips.

“You’re not going to be able to control what the outcome of this study is. That’s why it’s research, you study it and see why it’s that way. So stop stressing your pretty little head and calm yourself before you break down,” he said.

“…You suck at comforting people, Hat Guy,” you mumbled, covering your face with your hands again, before taking a deep breath.

“I’m just telling it like it is. It’s not like you're going to fail because of that. I won’t let it happen,” you hummed at his words, finally looking at him.

“…Thanks.”

“For what? Not letting you fail? We share a grade, you know. If you fail, I fail,” he explained, crossing his arms.

“For dealing with me. I know I can be too much sometimes,” you admitted, your fingers fidgeting on the paper cup of your coffee.

“Sometimes?” He said mockingly, raising his eyebrow.

“Fine, all the time. Stop interrupting me,” you couldn’t hide the exasperation in your voice, your hand going through your hair once more.

“Continue then, Your Majesty,” little shit.

“Never miiind,” you said, taking back your words of appreciation. Your smile still held a certain weight that you tried to hide from him, that his words and actions still weren’t enough to calm the storm.

You both continued to work on it, yet the pressure was getting to you. You couldn’t solve the issues in your study, and when you did, you would find another problem that was hard to figure out. It was exhausting you, both mentally and physically.

Wanderer saw how the stress was building up again, evident in your frown and your overall state. By now, the library was almost empty, save for the few scholars who were also working on their own research papers.

You were so, so close to breaking down, and Wanderer noticed it before you did.

In your stress, you didn’t realize you had started tearing up, the tears dropping onto the parchment you were writing on, smudging the ink of what you wrote.

“Ugh, shit..” you exclaimed quietly, wiping your eyes. It proved to be useless, seeing as your paper quickly became stained with tears.

“Hey, hey, hey, what’s wrong? What’s bringing this on, huh?” Wanderer exclaimed in a surprisingly soft tone, wanting to reach out but not knowing if should. Carefully, he guides you to lean back on your chair, his hand on the back of your chair as he went closer to you, observing the way you avoided his gaze.

“I just… I don’t understand what I’m doing wrong… It’s so annoying…” You said through your tears, desperately trying to cover yourself in embarrassment. Wanderer pulls your hand hide away from your face, wiping your wet cheeks with a spare handkerchief he had.

“It’s okay. Just let it all out,” he says with such an unfamiliar tone, you couldn’t believe you were talking to the same person.

You quickly tried to compose yourself, your deep breaths turning into shaky sighs. Wanderer whispered comforting words to you in the quiet of the night like it was second nature to come to your aid.

“It’ll get better, okay? Don’t let it consume you whole. It’ll be okay, I promise,” he mumbled to you, waiting patiently for you as your tears finally dried, leaving you exhausted.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault,” he said with such kindness. You wouldn’t expect it from the ice-cold scholar from the Vahumana Darshan. No one would.

He talked tender words to you for a few minutes, warmth blossoming in his chest. It was ironic that he could feel that way. But it reminded him of how human it made him.

It surprised himself that he didn’t think twice to comfort you and make you feel better. He knew that he wouldn’t do that for anyone else. No way.

You were the only exception.

As you two spent some minutes in comfortable silence, he realized one thing. He liked making you feel better. He always wanted you to feel good, even at the expense of his own convenience. It wasn’t like him at all.

“Feel better?” He asked you, rubbing your back to sooth you.

You nodded in response, still sniffling. “Yeah, I’m sorry again—“

“Don’t. Don’t say anything. Just feel better,” he realized then, that when the words came out before he could process it, that he felt something different with you.

He wouldn’t feel this warm feeling if comforted anyone else. He was sure of it. He knew he wouldn’t feel the need to ease their worries like he did with you.

He didn’t know what this feeling was. He should consult Nahida with it.

It filled you with pride and joy seeing your little puppy so happy and comfortable around you, remembering the time when you just got him. He was in a terrible shape, not taken care of well by his previous owners and fresh wounds covered his body that was already littered with scars - and yet he was trusting and friendly, cautious of course but he still tried to see the positive things in everything. This trait is probably what made you keep him, the way he was so selfless and really wanted to take care of you without expecting anything in return from you but you gave him an endless amount of love these past few months he has been with you. 

By the time you finished your dinner, you noticed something was off, Choso was whimpering slightly and his ears were laid back against his head. "Hey… are you okay? What's wrong?" You asked concerned, feeling his forehead gently and frowning when he was burning up a little. 

"Let's get you to bed early, should I hold you?" You asked caring but he shook his head, moving away from your touch, which you weren't used to. You just figured that he didn't like to be touched when sick or that he didn't want to risk getting you sick as well, so you let him trail off to bed alone before joining him hours later. 

The entire night you kept your distance instead of cuddling up close for warmth and comfort like you two usually do and the way he even whimpered in his sleep made your heart ache. 

Morning came fast despite the rough night both of you had and Choso found himself glued to your side, legs wrapped around yours and his arms clinging to your torso. 

"Please don't leave… stay home today… I need you," he whined but you only cupped his face, a pout appearing on his handsome face as he leaned into your touch. "I can't, baby… I have that important meeting in the morning but I promise I’ll come home right after." you promised, your heart threatening to burst at the crushed expression he wore now but he understood - you probably didn't know what was going on anyways, never having owned a puppy hybrid before so he couldn't blame you and let you get up, wanting to take care of it himself. 

He watched you leave like he did every morning, trying to behave normal and trying to act like he just felt a little sick over night and needed some extra cuddles that day which you gladly provided, even leaving work early just to take care of your beloved puppy. 

This wasn't exactly the case but he didn't have the heart to tell you that he was in a rut, needing to bury himself inside of you and filling you up repeatedly but he could take care of himself… or at least so he thought. His little ears didn't pick up the sound of your keys turning, neither did he hear your worried calls for him. His whimpers of your name almost drowned out the slick sound of his own cum aiding as lube while stroking his achingly hard cock, overly sensitive from all the times he made himself cum already, a small puddle on the floor and some of it dripping off his torso.

Even if his ears were occupied, he should have at least noticed your smell filling his senses but his nose was buried in a pair of your panties that he stole out of the laundry, the scent of your cunt so intense and addicting to him. 

"Choso?" You asked in a soft voice, unsure if you were concerned or shocked by the scene playing out in front of you. Your little puppy perked his head up, the collar jingling with the sudden movement and his cum shooting all over the floor in front of him. He wished he could disappear in that moment, shying away from you but you were able to stop him before he entirely died from embarrassment.

Your palm on his arm made him shudder, a burning sensation spreading through his entire body and the embarrassment was forgotten, big eyes looked up at you

"help… please," he whimpered, dick twitching again already without ever letting him catch a break. 

The mess he made of the floor and himself let you figure that he's been at this for hours, probably since you left in the morning and you felt so bad for him, giving him a warm smile and kneeling down to him. “Are you in a rut?” You asked bold, making him blush further as he nodded affirmatively. 

"I read about that when I educated myself about owning a puppy hybrid… it's okay baby boy, you're my good boy, aren't you?" You asked with a soft voice as your hand traveled from his strong biceps towards his chest, smearing a few pearls of his cum over his pebbled nipples which made him shudder and goosebumps formed over his entire body. 

"But you've been such a naughty boy, stealing my underwear… Do you think I should punish you for that?" You asked, a smirk growing on your lips when he pouted but he nodded, knowing he's not allowed to steal your panties. A little yelp escaped his pouting lips when you pinched his sensitive nipples before tugging his face close to the floor by the collar he wore - something he wanted to do, proud of being your good boy. 

"Clean up the mess you just made," you ordered, trying to sound stern when all you wanted was to help him feel better but he wanted to be punished first, letting him lap at the spurts of cum on the floor while you fondled his tight balls, so pretty on display with his ass in the air like that. 

Once he was done you gave a small slap to each of his butt cheeks and allowed him to sit up again. "Look at you, my good boy," you cooed as you reached for his aching length, making him cry out in pleasure from how sensitive he was after all these orgasms.

"P-please… I need you," he begged, gently fucking your hand and you allowed him, pumping his shaft and wrapping your lips around the tip to reward him for good behavior.

The cum he used as lube tasted bitter on your tongue but it didn't taste bad, craving to taste some more of him as your tongue teased the little slit on top of his tip and Choso didn't mean to but he pushed your head down on his length, no longer gently fucking your hands, now pumping himself into your warm mouth but you didn't protest. 

You knew how much he needed this and he waited the entire day for you without a single complaint so you let him fuck your mouth with utmost care, his sweet moans and whimpers rising in pitch the closer he got. To say it was sloppy was an understatement, your saliva dribbling down his balls and your nose nestled into the small bush at the base. What finally sent him over the edge was your hands fondling his balls, smearing them with your spit and gently squeezing them just the way he liked it.

Your name echoed off the walls in a lewd scream, his cum shooting down your throat before he pulled himself out of your mouth, kissing you hungry. Little thank you’s were whispered between kisses and tears threatening to spill from his eyes letting you know that this meant more to him than just getting off - it was personal - it was a need for you and your love.

The smell of your arousal filled his nostrils, not having noticed how you tugged your pants down just enough to reveal your glistening slit while he kissed you. 

"Can I? You mean it?" He asked excited yet flustered, finally able to make you his forever. All you could do was nod and get on all fours for him, your cunt dripping with arousal. 

Finding him desperately fucking his hand while sniffing your underwear turned you on more than you thought it would and the way he was so desperate for you only made it worse. His tail was wagging fast when he licked a long stripe all the way from your clit to your puckered hole before stuffing his eager tongue into your pussy, dying to taste your juices.

All you could do was moan helplessly, not expecting him to eat you out like a man starved but he didn't want to stop this. Slender fingers rubbed and gently pinched your puffy clit while his tongue was lapping all over your folds or fucking your tight entrance until the knot in your stomach exploded, your arousal coating his tongue and resulting him to cum untouched while he whined and whimpered into your folds. 

You almost had to pry him away after your third orgasm, dying to feel his dick inside of you and who was he to deny you that? With shaking hands he lined his bulbous tip up with your slick core which caused a loud moan to erupt from both of you - he fit so perfectly inside of you and hit all the right spots so that neither of you lasted long. 

Choso felt your walls clamp down and the moment you screamed his name in ecstasy it was over for him, panting hard and he really wanted to pull out but your cunt sucked him in so good that he just couldn't stop himself. 

"Fuck- fuck I'm so sorry," he whined loudly and for a second you didn't know what he's apologizing for until your eyes went wide, feeling the giant knot stretching you further than you've ever been stretched. His hot cum was spurting against your insides, your name falling from his lips in cries of pure pleasure and the knot keeping it all inside of your pussy. 

"I’m so sorry," he mumbled as he rested his forehead between your shoulder blades but you whimpered, the stretch borderline painful but the way you felt so connected to him now made it into something pleasurable.

"Feels good… can we stay like this?" You asked breathlessly, not wanting this moment between the two of you to end and Choso only humped his hips against yours in a silent agreement and to let you feel that he was far from being done - cock still hard. His shallow thrusts right against your sweet spot made you moan again, only waiting until the knot swells off so he can fuck you properly again only to knot you to him again and again. 

Shoto sat on the bed with his back leaning against the headboard, shirt unbuttoned and hanging open. His pants were shoved down just far enough to free his cock, flushed and slick in his fist. His head was tipped back with half-lidded eyes, lips barely parted as shaky breaths escaped his chest as his hand worked over his shaft. The fingers of his left hand were curled loosely around the base while his right hand stroked over his shaft with slow drags, occasionally brushing over the tip after every few upstrokes.

He looked utterly beautiful like that—cheeks flushed, hair slightly messy, and the muscles in his stomach twitching with each movement of his right hand. A soft, broken sound left his throat as his hips rolled involuntarily into his hand.

As if he could feel your gaze burning on him, his eyes snapped open and stared right back at you.

Shoto felt a tingle travel up his spine as he tensed up, his hand stopping mid-stroke but staying wrapped around his cock while a deep flush exploded across his face and down his neck. For a moment all he could do was stare, frozen, mismatched eyes wide with mortification.

"Shit..." he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He let go of himself as if he suddenly got burned and scrambled to pull his pants back up to restore a scrap of dignity. "I thought you weren't coming over until later."

You felt rooted to the floor where you stood, heat crawling up your own face now too. "I... had the file. I thought you'd still be at the agency." you mumbled, unsure where to look at this point.

Shoto dragged a hand over the blanket, the tips of his ears matching the color of the red half of his hair. His cock was still visibly hard and straining against the fabric he tried to tuck it into, and the sight only seemed to fluster him even more. Carefully, he moved on the bed, trying to angle himself away from your view, causing his dick to bob against his pants from the sudden lack of stimulation.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled quietly, feeling bad that you caught him like this. "This is... embarrassing. I didn't hear you come in." He swallowed, and his Adam's apple bobbed visibly in his throat. "I was just— trying to relax after patrol. I didn't expect..."

He trailed off, clearly at a loss of explanations or reasons. One of his hands hovered awkwardly near his lap like he wasn't sure wether to hide further or just accept that you'd already seen everything. His breathing was still a little uneven, chest rising and falling beneath the unbuttoned shirt. The rosy color on his cheeks hadn't gone anywhere, if anything, it turned into a deeper crimson when he finally looked at you again.

"I can go?" you offered, although your voice sounded much thinner than intended.

Shoto shook his head once, still visibly flustered. "No, it's... it's fine. I just wasn't prepared for you to see me like that." He let out a short, self-deprecating breath and ran his fingers through his hair. "Not exactly how I wanted you to find out I think about you when I'm alone."

The admission slipped out before he could stop it. The second these words left his mouth, his eyes widened, and he looked away again, jaw tight. "I mean—forget I said that. I'm sorry. This is—"

He cut himself off, clearly overwhelmed. His hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt as he tried to pull it closed, even though the damage was already done. The room felt too warm, and the tension was thick enough to cut it with a knife at that point. Shoto's usual calm composure had cracked entirely and left him looking younger and much more vulnerable than you'd ever seen him.

"...This isn't how I pictured my evening going," he admitted quietly and still avoided your gaze.

You hesitated in the doorway for one more second before stepping inside his bedroom and let the door fall shut behind you. Shoto's head lifted at that sound, and his eyes widened as you crossed the room only to stop at the edge of his bed. When your hand reached out to gently brush his hands aside, it was like all air got knocked out of his lungs.

"Let me help," you said softly, waiting for any sort of consent before you even considered touching anything other than his hands.

Shoto's lips parted, but no words came out, so he simply nodded as his pupils blew wide with need. He stayed perfectly still when your fingers wrapped around his cock, warm and slick from his earlier strokes. A shaky exhale left him the moment your hand started to move over his shaft for the first time, his head immediately falling back against the headboard. His toned thighs tensed up beneath you, and his cheeks burned in numerous shades of red, but this time it wasn't only from embarrassment.

"...Please," he whispered almost helplessly when his eyes looked back at you, half hooded and so full of hunger. The image before you was a sinful one, and you knew that he was like putty in your hands now.

The cold had settled long before the night even arrived, slowly creeping through every seam of your clothes until it made its way under your skin and swirled around your bones. By the time you started to freeze, the knights had returned to their tents, just like you had two hours ago, yet you were still wide awake, simply staring up at the dim outline of the canvas ceiling and trying—unsuccessfully—to ignore just how badly you were shivering.

You tossed and turned again, trying to tuck the blanket tighter around yourself so no gap could let in even more of the cold wind that was howling just outside your tent. The bedroll had lost its warmth to the frozen ground beneath a long time ago, and every breath you exhaled clouded up before succumbing to the cold as well.

After a while you gave up pretending that you could tough it out—you simply weren't built for the harsh temperatures, just like Varka warned you... But when did you ever truly listen to him?

Sitting up with an exhausted sigh, you rubbed your arms briskly, hesitating for a second before ridding yourself of the blanket and pushing yourself to your feet. There was a certain level of pride you were abandoning alongside your bedroll, and you were all too aware of it—although freezing all night sounded much worse.

The Grandmaster's tent stood out clearly among the others, slightly larger and better secured against the wind. Just outside of it, you paused, suddenly aware of how this might look, but another sharp gust of wind made the decision for you.

"Varka... are you awake?" you called out quietly, your voice so gentle that it was barely enough to reach him without drawing attention from anyone else.

"Always, if it's you, come in." There was a brief rustle from inside, and his voice sounded much more awake than you thought, easing your nerves since you hadn't actually disturbed him as much as you feared. He sounded mildly amused, already having a feeling about why you were there.

You didn't need to be told twice, slipping swiftly into Varka's tent, immediately greeted by a noticeable difference in temperature. It wasn't warm, but compared to outside, it felt like stepping into shelter properly for the first time that night. He was sitting at the small desk, one arm casually resting on the wooden surface, and his eyes moved over you in a quick, assessing way before his expression shifted to a frown that looked slightly mocking.

"You look like you've been losing a fight with the weather," he pointed out and leaned back slightly as if he already knew the answer to end your suffering, which he did, of course.

"I have been," you admitted before hugging your arms around yourself again in an effort to preserve warmth, suddenly hyper aware of how ridiculous you must look. "I tried to sleep, but it's just... not happening. I don't even know why I came I—" you stammered a little, unsure if you should just go back to your tent and try to tough it out again.

"Don't be like that now; you came to the right tent." Varka already pushed himself to stand, his imposing height filling the tent easily as he took a step closer.

Before you could question what he meant, he nudged his bedroll with his foot and gestured towards it like this was the most obvious solution. "Get in there before you freeze to the ground," he added with his authoritative Grandmaster voice, leaving very little room to argue.

You stared at him for a moment, feeling like you already were frozen to the spot. "That's yours, though." You pointed out that this was his bedroll since it felt like a very important detail he was ignoring.

"And now it's yours for the night," he answered without missing a beat. This was already settled for him—of course he would put your comfort over his own; that's just how Varka was.

"...What about you?" You asked and narrowed your eyes slightly because there was no way he assumed to share that singular bedroll with you without as much as asking first, right?

"I've slept on the ground more times than I could count. This is nothing new." Varka only shrugged unconcerned and reached for a spare blanket before tossing it beside the bedroll, leaving a respectful distance between the two sleeping spots. "You, on the other hand, are about five minutes away from turning into an ice block."

You opened your mouth to argue again but closed it upon seeing how he crossed his arms, ready to counter any argument that might come from you.

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" you muttered under your breath as you walked towards his bedroll.

The second you slipped underneath the covers, you understood why he insisted—warmth immediately hugged your body and began to fight the coldness that nestled inside your bones. The tension fell from your shoulders as you sank into the comfort with a quiet exhale—his earthy scent surrounding your senses once you pulled the blanket all the way up to your nose to keep warm.

"Better?" he asked as he looked down at you nestled up in his thick blanket, his voice softer now that you actually listened to him.

"Mh...yeah. A lot better," you admitted and adjusted slightly to get even more comfortable.

Varka smiled softly, happy with how comfortable you allowed yourself to be around him as he settled down on the ground beside his bedroll, his broad back turned towards you. You simply watched him for a moment, how he got himself comfortable on the hard ground as if it didn't bother him at all—giving up his bedroll was nothing if it meant he got to make you feel safe. It made something in your chest feel more complicated than it should be.

"And you really don't mind?" Your voice was barely above a whisper now, fearing that you'd alert the whole camp and everyone could see you getting close to their grandmaster if you spoke any louder now.

You heard a soft chuckle before he spoke. "If I minded, you'd be back in your tent freezing; now go to sleep," he pointed out and shifted his arm to be his makeshift pillow. It made you wonder just how soft and warm his biceps would feel beneath your head—just how soft and warm his embrace would be... and you felt your mind drift further away until the thought of him became something hazy and sleep slowly pulled you into its embrace.

At some point during the night, the cold crept back into your bones—not nearly as bad as before, but enough to make you shiver in your sleep, your body curling in itself to preserve its warmth without waking you. Your sleeping form frowned as it tossed and turned, trying to find warmth as your hands curled into your blanket like that would somehow fix it—it didn't.

But the arm that slowly slid around your torso and the warmth that enveloped you from behind fixed it. Your constant tossing and turning woke up Varka, ever the light sleeper when he had to watch over someone until he couldn't take it anymore. Of course he only held you close to provide warmth, not once sighing softly at the scent of your hair when he pulled you close to his chest—the grin on his lips was just a grimace to fight off the cold, too.

The difference was immediate as his warmth surrounded you, and without thinking much about it, you leaned into it. Your body relaxed completely the moment your back pressed up against his broad chest. A quiet sigh escaped your lips as well the moment your hand came up to hold onto his arm as if all of this were the most natural thing to happen, and neither of you woke up fully from it—just two bodies gravitating towards one another like two magnets.

The sunrise was inevitable, and the morning slowly rolled over the camp and into Varka's tent through every seam and gap, soft light filtering through the fabric in uneven streaks of gold, soft enough that it didn't immediately rip either of you out of your dreamy haze and kept you from registering just how tangled your limbs have gotten. Everything in this tent remained untouched by time and reality for just a moment longer.

Varka woke up first, his mind slowly drifting back to awareness, slowly realizing that this was one of the most restful slumbers that he had in a long time—thanks to you tucked away in his arms. He lay there completely still at first, not because he was too cautious about the situation but simply to enjoy the moment a little longer while his mind drifted off to a half slumber once again.

The way you were curled up against him, pressed up to his body so not even a singular leaf would fit between you two, made his thoughts stall for another heartbeat. You were sleeping so content while being held by him; not even the rapidly approaching morning seemed to stir you awake, only driving you further into the comfort his warmth provided—one thick arm underneath your head to serve as a pillow while cutting off the blood flow to his hand—but he would never complain about it.

When his eyes closed again to squeeze just a few minutes of slumber in, his hand moved unconsciously to pull you closer to him as if you were a big plushie. It wasn't something he thought about in the moment, but his hand ended up where it most definitely wasn't supposed to rest—a sleepy grin spreading on his face at the plush warmth in his palm when he squeezed ever so softly.

Just a split second after relishing in the feeling of the weight in his palm, a shiver ran down his spine, and he was wide awake as he stared at the back of your head with wide eyes. The realization that he just groped your chest hit him violently and caused him to be wide awake within a heartbeat. Outwardly he stayed calm, hoping that you were still asleep as the panic surged on the inside—his brain was racing with thoughts on how to fix this without making it a big deal.

Moving now would be a terrible choice; risking waking you up seemed much worse, so he swallowed his chivalry and decided to keep his hand right where it was as he closed his eyes... Feigning sleep seemed like the easiest choice—you couldn't blame a man for moving in his sleep, could you? On top of that, he could selfishly keep you close like this before never getting the chance again if you wake up with his hand cradling your breast the way it did.

A few seconds passed that felt like an eternity until you moved in his grasp as your body slowly woke up and became aware of the sensations around you. The warmth was something that you noticed first; the hard planes of Varka's torso against your back made your cheeks heat up, but when you felt his arm snug around you and his hand gently cradling your chest, a shiver made its way through your body as well now. You froze immediately, just as he did moments before, the realization of the position hitting you just as bluntly—and neither of you dared to move, thinking the other was still deep in their slumber. After all, Varka would never make a move on you, especially not when you're most vulnerable.

The silence that followed was anything but peaceful and rather charged while the both of you lay there unmoving except for the occasional stirring against your lower back, followed by a silent shiver from you. After minutes that started to feel like an eternal choice both of you shared unwillingly, Varka moved and stretched his arms and legs as if he just woke up from the deepest sleep. His hand was casually moved away as he stretched his free arm; the one you were using as a pillow remained still.

"Morning," he mumbled with his raspy voice that was still filled with sleep—and if you weren't already melted against him, hearing it would have absolutely made you melt into him. With a careful movement, he moved to lie on his back, giving you some space, except for the arm that was still occupied by your head.

You followed his lead immediately, forcing yourself to blink awake with the same level of normalcy, even though your thoughts were still stuck on how good his hand felt on you and how he undoubtedly felt the stiffness of your nipple against his palm when he woke up.

"Mmh, morning," you mumbled with just enough steadiness that it could pass as genuine, and just like that, neither acknowledged the situation of moments before, letting it disappear entirely into silence as if it had never happened. Neither of you addressed the fact of being all cuddled up either, simply deciding that it was for the sake of keeping you from freezing to death—nothing more, nothing less.

However, it didn't really disappear since Varka avoided you all day long in a way that became increasingly impossible to ignore as the day went on. It started so subtle that you didn't even notice it or thought you were imagining it and making it weird for yourself; he was a busy man after all, but it quickly turned into something much more obvious with the way he created distance the moment he did as much as set his eyes on you, cutting conversations short and actively fleeing the scene to not be in your immediate vicinity.

By the time the sun set, it was no longer subtle at all, which was how you eventually found him half hidden behind a supply barrel, a tuft of blonde hair sticking out alongside a pair of shoulders on each side of the barrel.

"You cannot be serious right now," you cursed under your breath as you stopped right in front of the barrel, folding your arms and staring at him with sheer disbelief at just how obvious this situation had become.

As if struck by lightning, Varka stood up and straightened immediately at your voice, looking like a dog getting caught eating table scraps. It was enough to let you know that he was avoiding you on purpose—the least he owed you now was an apology, not only for running off like a fool but also for very clearly using your vulnerable state to feel you up. Not that you minded the latter; you've done it yourself multiple times, imagining it would be his hands on your skin instead of your own, but he wouldn't need to know that—ever.

"...I wasn't hiding," his defense shot out immediately, too fast to be the slightest bit convincing, and you didn't even need to point it out to let him know that this wasn't going to work; your face said enough.

After a short pause where he seemed to reconsider the state of his dignity, he let out a slow breath and rubbed the back of his neck in a rather sheepish way as he avoided your eyes at all cost.

"Alright, maybe I was hiding just a little," he mumbled, which was rather uncommon for his usual boisterous voice, always loud and proud.

When he eventually looked back at your face, there was a slight hesitation on his face that you'd never seen there before, but he still gestured for you to walk with him, which you did, mostly because you wanted an actual explanation instead of whatever this was turning into.

The two of you ended up sitting off to the side with two drinks between you, the noise of the other knights fading just enough that the outskirts of the camp felt rather private. Neither of you spoke at first, both of you waiting for the other to start and see just how much either of you knew before making fools of yourselves by admitting too much.

Varka eventually leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees as he stared at the patchy grass below before he allowed himself to speak. His voice was more serious than you've ever heard it before as he explained that he owes you an apology—particularly for what happened in the morning—for holding you close and shielding you from the cold, which he wouldn't apologize for since it did start as a means to an end. Regardless of the context, what had happened in the morning was nothing he wanted to let sit unaddressed for his own comfort.

He explained it carefully, admitting that he hadn't been fully awake while making sure that it still wasn't an excuse to let his hand linger and that he didn't want you to ever think he would take advantage of you or your trust in a situation like that since you came to him for shelter and allowed yourself to be vulnerable.

When he finished speaking, there was enough time to let the weight of it settle, and instead of letting the tension slowly suffocate the both of you, you gathered all the courage you could muster and raised one brow.

"So what, am I not attractive enough for the Grandmaster?" you asked teasingly just to see his reaction.

Varka took a step back as if you had just insulted his entire bloodline, clearly not prepared for how you handled the situation when he took it this seriously—or were you just joking?

"That's not—" he started but stopped mid-sentence as he dragged a hand through his blonde hair while recalibrating his brain and thinking about what exactly he could say to not offend you any further.

"You are. That's not the issue at all... That's kinda exactly the problem." His words came out much more honest than he intended, wanting to be nonchalant about it.

You only hummed at that, letting it stand in the room just like that, but Varka saw his chance right at that moment—strong hands reaching for your waist and pulling you closer to his body without much force to close the distance between the two of you until you were standing right in front of him, only the grip on your waist holding you from falling backwards.

When you didn't protest, Varka leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath on your skin as he explained just how serious he took the situation—he would never dare to ruin the reputation of a young lady. But if that certain lady wasn't just teasing him, then he would surely allow himself to indulge. There was no rush in his words or actions, just a clear pause as he waited for you to make up your mind if you wanted to lean in now or rather run.

The decision was made for you when the calls for Varka grew louder, stepping away to let him tend to his duties... he would surely wait for your answer, right?