🌅⏳️🪐

flins: he doesn't really mind either way, so even if you'd been holding out on him, hoping he'd cave in and beg you to let him take the condom off, you're the one who has to break first. you're at your wit's end, crying from overstimulation and chasing your fifth orgasm in a row until you feel him pull out of you, leaving your abused pussy so, so empty, and for what? just because he says the condom is stuffed full and he has to put on another one or it'll risk breaking?! you really don't care about your dignity anymore, so you grab the condom box before he can and throw it away from the bed, that'll teach him! you make grabby hands for his hips, and encircle them with your legs as soon as he comes back towards you, grabbing his cock and driving it back inside your pussy. you sigh when it's finally in again, and loop your arms around his neck. you beg him to start again, to cum inside and fill you until you're leaking, and with a patronizing chuckle he fulfills your wishes; he leans down even lower towards you, capturing your lips in a filthy, open mouthed kiss as he pistons his hips flush to yours, his cock twitching inside your wall and squelching loudly with your juices. he finally spills inside, and you're amazed at the sheer volume of cum he releases in you, prompting you to even thank him for stuffing you so good <3

varka: he has you on your hands and knees as he pumps his cock in and out of your pussy with a vigor you'd never seen from him yet. it's probably because you've finally agreed when he asked you if he could cum inside (instead of pulling out at the last moment and rubbing his orgasm against your pussy lips), but you really weren't expecting him to be this excited! he's simply ectastic tho, giving it is all and babbling random stuff in your ear as he keeps pounding into you. your eyes roll back into your head as you feel the tip of his fat cock bullying against your cervix, slipping past it just an instant before he fills your womb with his cum. his cock doesn't even soften at all, and he just keeps fucking each and every load inside you until you feel so bloated you might pass out. he barely stops to lay a hand on your tummy, feeling how heavier it is with all his seed planted in you <3

varka who loves to pick you up bridal-style, swinging you around in his muscular arms. your weight was never a problem for him, not with his immense strength. those long, tiresome training sessions to skillfully master his wolf's gravestone, which weighed heavily on him, paid off for him and his beloved. he would shower you with kisses all over your face, smooching each detail of your features. his lips would occasionally peck on your shoulders as his stubble tickles your skin. "y'er. don't. know. how. much. i. missed. ya. hon." he whispers endearingly between smooches while you giggle under grizzly affection. it didn't matter if he had just gone on the most tiresome expedition, or if he had swung his claymore all day to protect the people of mondstadt from the dangers of lurking monsters—only the image of you cradled in his large arms gave him the determination to pursue each troubling day. "hey, darling." a quiet husky voice lingers behind you. still, you had no time to react as you were scooped up into someone's biceps in one smooth motion. varka's broad chest vibrated against you when he let out a booming laugh that probably echoed all over tevyat. "missed you, sweets, been mhm, thinkin' bout you every second of the day," he growled against your skin, planting more and more kisses as he talked that caused you to feel warmer than usual.

but his unusual strength is not only useful for sweeping you off your feet, but also to conveniently help him lift you effortlessly to help his cock plunge into the deepest parts of your cervix. he absolutely loves to put you in positions where his arms and hands need to raise you so his fat tip can go all the way in. standing lotus, standing cowgirl, standing reverse cowgirl, standing full nelson, against the wall, almost anything that requires for him to carry or stand he is all over for it.

"hmm, that's it. you're taking it, s' good pup.." he groans in your ear, his dick filling your tight hole up. your arms wrapped around his neck while his warm palms held you up by your ass, balancing your weight on his. a whine falls off your lips when you could feel varka fill you to the brim, and his mushroom tip reaching your cervix.

wriosthesley, who always came home with his energy depleted and dark eye bags circling his under eyes, showing the effects of waking up early when the sun barely peeked over the horizon and of slumbering at the depths of midnight. as soon as he got home from the fortress of meropide, he hurriedly took off his heavy boots and jacket putting it beside the front door of your shared house, and throwing other of his miscillaneous accesories off somewhere. wrio heads straight to the bedroom, where you were nestling soundly beside an empty space he owns.

he quietly closes the door behind him, making a soft click once he fully rotates the knob. a soft smile making its way to his lips, as he sighs now that he's finally at ease with no one bothering his ass away. wriothesley lets his body retreat into the comforts of the fluffy sheets. his hand pulls up the covers so he can huddle closer to you. you were then woken up from your slumber when you could feel yourself get pulled into someone's broad frame. "wrio what are yo-", "sorry, give me this moment love.." he says in a low voice before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck while pushing your back flush against his broad frame. you could feel the warmth of his aching body spread to yours, while your hearts beat steadily. he just loves to cuddle with his princess after a tired day.

this man's favorite part of the day is coming back from his draining work to his beloved, letting his guard down now that he knows he's safe and sound, even though he's the one wrapping you in his muscular forearms. although sometimes this warm cuddle session turns to something more heated, he pushes his frustration into your lips, his tongue pursuing you aggressively while his toned arms put up one of your legs as he ruts into your heat in a rhythmic pattern. the arousal from your earlier orgasm drips and stains the sheets, but you couldn't care less, not with how good he's fucking you right now.

his hips move like there's no tomorrow, earning shameful moans that spill out of you endlessly. your tongue lolled when his wide shaft hit another sweet spot inside your walls. "shit, you feel so f'ckin' good, and i'm not stopping till the suns up." he growls, battling your tongue whilst he could feel you shake uncontrollably and clamp down on his length. you wanted to argue, knowing that his body clock was a mess, but he shuts up by winning control over your own mouth.

itto who proudly shows his endearment through physical approaches, for example, his favorite by putting you in breath-taking hugs, literally. at some point, you were mad at him for his deathly embraces, but no matter how many reminders you give him, the man just does not seem to know how to control his strength. so you just accept this dangerous trait of his, and every time he skips happily like a little girl towards you, his arms flailing wide open, you take a deep breath as if you were about to take a deep dive, but instead it's a pile of muscles.

"oh my archons, baby! you wouldn't believe—" itto pauses at his rant, before lowering his head to see you choking on his pillowy like pecs, it looked comical in an outside view. he chuckles awkwardly before reducing the pressure of his bear hug. your head cartoonishly pops up out of his large arms, and you wear an annoyed look at your boyfriend. "my skull was about to crack," you note bluntly, eyes staring daggers at him. itto scratches the back of his head. "woopsie.. you're just too cute!" he exclaims as he squishes you into him like a child playing with his squeaky toy. your head returns to dive into his muscles, stunting you from being able to breathe.

one could call this a dream, but to you, it was a suffocating nightmare. but you would not complain if the dream was a wet one. the way he would wrap his vein-filled bicep around your neck, cutting your airways off while he's jerking his hip to push himself further in. your ability to whimper was taken away by his muscles, forcing you to only let out strangled cries out of your throat harshly. his arms strangled you so badly that it left you to beg for him to loosen even just for a second, but oh, did it feel so fucking good didn't dare to fight it.

his arms have you in a headlock, leaving you gasping and wheezing for air. your body stiffens, while he pounds you into mush. itto lets out animalistic grumbles, his arms getting tighter around you by the second. you could feel his length pulse and swell inside your dripping cunt. and with a final strong thrust, his seed spills in you while his arms relax. you loudly gasp, feeling your throat is no free from pressure, but a few seconds pass by, and he has you choking in his arms again and pulling his shaft in and out of you. "c-can't stop it, baby!" he exclaims as he claims your pussy, pushing his cum deeper.

all rights reserved © tsumikou. do not repost, rewrite, or translate.

You hummed softly in response, naked and sweaty beneath him. Your thighs were aching from the past 20 minutes of “foreplay” which he loves so much. Burying his face between your thighs while striking his cock but edging himself so that he could finish inside your warm, sweet hole.

“I’m not letting any of it go to waste, m’kay?” He had told you, before filling you up repeatedly with his sticky white seed.

His hand shifted from your thigh, warmth spreading to your tummy when his large hand pressed down gently. Eliciting a soft moan from you, your hands clawing into the silk sheets, curling your toes and squirming. As if you weren’t already on edge. “Mmm… s-stoppp.. don’t press there,” you whined, left eye closed from the twitching pleasure.

“No?” He raised an eyebrow, smirking, before lifting his hand obediently and staring at your abdomen. “S’hard not to… can see my cock bulging from inside your cute belly,” he hummed lowly, hips slowly pulling back.

It’s almost like you could feel what he was about to do, already watching your back and holding on a breath. His hips slamming forward, knocking the air out of you, a loud moan passing unfiltered through your soft lips. “Fuck… you sound good with me in you, you look incredibly good with me inside you, you smell so good when I’m in you… wanna marry me, doll?” He breathed out, his hand moving from above your abdomen to grab your chin.

“We’re already marriedddd.. stop talking and just fuck me..”

He chuckled, moving to push his index and middle finger into your mouth. “Don’t even need to ask twice…” he grinned, eyes half lidded with blissful pleasure. He blinked, watching you instinctively suck on his fingers with muffled soft moans, before he pulled his hand back, pushing your thighs down against your chest again. Lifting his hips, and slamming back into your again.

Plap. Plap. Plap.

Your breathing had quickened, your head lolling to the side, moaning out loud between every thrust. The room was loud and lewd. A fwop here and a shlorp there. “A-ah.. ah… mmh..!” You moaned out for him, mouth agape, eyes squeezed shut. While he was groaning shamelessly and moving his hips with a desperate pace.

“F-fuck yeah… you love this, don’t you?” He chuckled between his own gasps at your mindless nodding, “love being fucked dumb by me,” he punctuated dumb with a sharper thrust, pressing the gummy head of his cock against your cervix. Before focusing on the quicker, more shallow thrusts.

His pace quickened when he felt the tingle at the back of his spine, that euphoric sensation buzzing through him, before he stuttered and slammed against your hips for the last time.

Cum spurted from the tip of his cock, painting your walls in his warm white seed again. Filling you up for the nth time that night. His body blanketing yours in a warm hug, kissing the tension and stress away on your face. “Y-yeah.. just… a little more, angel..” he breathed out, muscles tightened and sweating all over. Nose nudging against your cheek.

“Just… a few more rounds, I need to see your tummy all big, whether that be from our babies… or just that cute bulge from my dick.”

how did you end up here again? you swore on your life not to touch that bottle, but here you were, hands deftly flicking the long emptied glass, and watching as it spun round and round.

you can feel people lean in to watch, can see the anticipation in everyone's eyes. who will it be?

the bottle lands, you raise your eyes, and he's already looking back at you.

varka

you're not sure how your upperclassman got roped into this game in the first place. or how he got into the party. varka tended to show up when he pleased, and didn't bother coughing up an invitation. that did not, however, deter him from looking happy as ever when the bottle spun his way.

he stood, stretching his arms above his head - the muscles in his chest and abdomen flexing in a very distracting manner - before lowering them to offer you a hand.

"shall we?" he says, crooking an expectant eyebrow, "it'd be impolite to keep the crowd waiting."

he pulls you to your feet with ease, then lets go of your hand, striding ahead of you with all the confidence of a man who has done this before.

the closet door clicks shut behind you. the whispers of other partygoers fade to a barely audible murmur.

the closet is significantly smaller than you anticipated. varka is significantly larger. he crowds you against the wall without even trying, hands resting idly at his sides.

he's quiet for a moment, before, "you look nervous." he says. his tone is gentle, but the smile on his face tells you he's teasing.

you mumble something dismissive in response, eyes darting away from him. you try to focus on something other than his proximity. or his smell. or, god, his shoulders ..

but it's hard when he braces a hand next to your head, not necessarily to trap (though it feels like it), but to give him a better angle. you feel his fingers tilt your face up, "c'mon, seven minutes is a long time to sit in silence."

when you don't respond, he retracts, "hey - we don't have to do anything, it's just a stupid game -"

you cut him off, a hand on his wrist, his fingertips still resting on your face. no way in hell were you going to let this chance slip away. "varka," you say, then trail off, unable to find the words.

luckily, that's all he needs, as he presses forward again with renewed confidence, "y'know, i've been looking for an excuse to do this." he says, leaning forward just enough for you to feel his breath, "you gonna keep me waiting?"

you make a frustrated noise, and pull him into a kiss by the collar. varka goes without complaint, letting out a startled laugh against your lips. his hands snake around your waist to tug you closer, fingers sliding under your shirt just enough to make you twitch. he steadies you like that, anchored against him rather than pinned, and keeps it slow, giving you time to breathe.

someone bangs on the door, shouting about time, varka groans as he pulls back, face flushed pink.

"round two later, yeah?" he says, pressing one last kiss to the corner of your mouth before the door opens and light spills in again.

venti

venti, ever theatrical, acts incredibly surprised when the bottle lands on him. "i had a feeling today was going to be a good day," he says, all cheek as he offers you a little bow and pulls you up with a hand - too eager.

he practically drags you into the dark closet, swinging the door shut with a cheerful hum. he is immediately too close. you can smell the wine on his lips, can see the flush of alcohol on his cheeks. he's inebriated, but the way he looks at you seems all-too-clear.

"tell me -" he begins, leaning in just a little closer, toeing the line between friendly and intimate, "do you know just what this game entails?"

it's a murmured couple of words, spoken that way to make you blush. and, damn, if it didn't work. he pulls back after that, giving you an innocent smile, "relax, i'm teasing, we can just talk, if you'd like. i have this great story about an apple farmer and a -"

he pauses for a second, grin flickering for a moment as he takes you in.

"- and a very distracting friend of theirs." he clears his throat, jumping back to a performative tone, "truly riveting. very romantic."

venti lets out a half-laugh, something nervous and breathy and excited all at once. he tilts his head a little, braids swaying slightly. "although," his voice takes on a sing-song tone, "we are on borrowed time. no time like the present, hm? we could make this a little more memorable."

his finger hooks into the sleeve of your shirt, tugging just enough for you to notice, he watches your reaction very closely, "just one kiss. or - i can behave. whatever you want." he adds, smiling gently.

you swallow, when did it get so hot in here? and when did venti get so .. suave? "just one kiss?" you echo, stumbling closer when venti tugs again.

"well, i'm a man of my word, of course!" he grins against your lips as he presses closer.

venti keeps his promise, he brushes his mouth against yours softly, briefly. it's light, curious, like he's testing something out. he smells like dandelions and tastes like alcohol - the combination making you a little woozy.

when he pulls back, a hand having snaked up to cup your face, he grins dreamily, his ears red as the apples he eats. his forehead bumps yours, "i'm very glad that bottle landed on me." he muses, pressing one last lingering kiss to your cheek before the door swings open.

venti saunters out of the closet ahead of you. he glances over his shoulder once, shooting you a wink that promises more to come later.

wriothesley

how were you supposed to survive seven minutes with this man? alone, in a dark closet, with a number of people listening?

when the bottle had landed on him, wriothesley, in all his unbothered glory, had simply quirked a brow and shrugged, like it was all part of his plan. "rules are rules, right?" he said, standing with an easy grace.

there was a faint murmur in the room, half teasing jeers, half nervous laughter, but he ignored it, rolling his shoulders like he was prepping for a boxing match rather than a party game.

when you take his hand to let him pull you up, it's warm, grounding. he's not excitable like venti - he doesn't crowd you as soon as the closet door shuts. instead, he leans back against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, watching you in the dim lighting.

"relax," he murmurs if you look nervous, "i'm not going to make this uncomfortable."

the way he says it isn't teasing or smug, it's factual. a simple truth, a promise. the room feels warmer now, you swallow thickly, eyeing the way his hair falls around his face, the way he kicks one leg up against the wall.

"although," he adds after a second longer, voice taking on a different tone, one you can't quite pinpoint, "i don't mind that it's you."

he pushes off the wall then, taking a small step closer, just enough for you to notice. you can smell something like leather and tea on him. his shoulder brushes yours as he tilts his head down to look at you.

"you know how this game goes," he continues, "people expect something."

his hand comes up then, finally brushing your jaw, applying just enough pressure to make you look up at him, "but i'm not interested in doing anything you don't want."

his thumb lingers. he's waiting, you realize, for your response.

if you tease him? if you step closer, hold his hand to your face, his eyebrows lift, a faint smile quirking at his lips. "oh?" he cocks his head to the side, "careful. don't want to start anything we can't finish in seven minutes."

he uses his hand on your jaw to guide you closer, then, his forehead brushes yours briefly - to test - before he kisses you. he's slow, methodical, his other hand resting at your waist.

it deepens. like he forgot about the timer, the door, the party entirely. one hand tangles in your hair, the other sliding to rest at the small of your back when -

a harsh knock on the door accompanied by someone yelling "time's up!"

wriothesley pulls back, panting softly. he steps away from you, his fingers brushing yours ever-so-slightly. "that was nice." he mutters, like he's forgotten himself - forgotten his cool demeanor.

as the door opens, he leans in just enough to murmur something low in your ear. something about a promise of 'next time'.

kaeya

he, of course, doesn't even flinch when the bottle lands on him. "oh my, what a fortunate turn of events," he says smoothly, the words tumbling out like they're practiced.

you follow after him with a nervous glance at the others in the room, each one whispering something into another's ear, the rumors about you and kaeya spreading before the door even shuts.

kaeya watches you shut the door before speaking, "seven minutes. a rather generous amount of time. i can think of many, many things two people could get done in that kind of time frame."

if you're nervous, maybe you're blushing or stumbling over words, he lets out a scoff, something between fond and exasperated, "oh, relax. i'm not desperate. i won't force you into anything. if you want to stand in silence for seven minutes, then so be it."

he means it, you realize. which somehow makes it worse. you fight between wanting to keep a safe distance and wanting to get much, much closer.

but, if you step closer, reach for his hand or his arm, he pauses. he raises an eyebrow, amused, playful, but not entirely sure of himself anymore, ".. ah."

a gloved hand catches your wrist, not letting you step back, but not pulling you in either, "so that's not it, is it?"

his hand slips lower, fingers brushing yours, smirk slowly falling back into place as he watches you try to gather your courage. cute, cute, cute, he thinks to himself.

"is there, perhaps, something you want to ask me?"

he gives you an innocent look, the implication clear. he wants you to say it.

you mutter a few choice words under your breath, heat rushing to your face, before, "kiss me, kaeya."

kaeya blinks, he wasn't expecting you to come out and say it so readily, but he recovers fast; "oh, well, if you insist."

it doesn't take much more convincing before kaeya is on you, hands resting at your hips to guide you closer, mouth moving against yours with practiced ease.

your fingers curl into the front of his shirt, he hums against your mouth - a low, pleased sound.

when the timer runs out and the door bursts open, he steps back smoothly. his smirk remains, but the way he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear is different now. softer.

"until next time." he murmurs, voice thick with promise.

diluc

much unlike his brother, diluc does flinch when the bottle lands on him. his shoulders stiffen. he blinks slowly like this is somehow a betrayal and it's entirely your fault.

there is a heavy beat of silence.

then someone - probably kaeya - snickers - "rules are rules, diluc. get in there."

you expect him to argue, to brush the game off as juvenile. instead, he exhales slowly, like he's forcing himself to relax, "very well." his voice is purposefully flat, but you catch the tension underneath.

he barely looks at you, just a brief glance in your direction before he clears his throat and gestures toward the closet.

ever the gentleman, diluc holds the door open for you. and, ever the gentleman, diluc plants himself as far away as physically possible once the door shuts.

his posture is straight, his eyes flit about the dark room, trying to find something to focus on, before they hesitantly settle on you. "you, er, you needn't feel pressured. we can wait it out."

it's not at all surprising. of course he'd give you an out - in fact, you assume it's as much of an out for him as it is for you.

but the thing is -

he hasn't stopped looking at you. he may think he's subtle, but when it's just the two of you, it's easy to catch the way his eyes dart to your lips and then back up, the way he shifts his weight awkwardly like he's restraining himself.

you tilt your head. he notices. you take a step closer. he definitely notices, "is that really what you want to do?" you ask, voice carefully even, as to not scare him away.

".. [name]. what are you doing?" he asks, arms slowly uncrossing as your fingers find the front of his coat.

his breath hitches when he realizes. he looks at your hand, then slowly lifts his eyes back to you, his own fingers twitching like they're unsure where to go.

"are you certain?" he murmurs, voice rougher now, "i am not fond of games."

you let out a gentle laugh, nodding your head, "diluc. just kiss me."

he doesn't surge forward like kaeya or varka. instead, diluc swallows, blinking slowly.

when his hands find your waist, it's a light, barely there touch. he pulls you just a little closer, more determined now, like once he starts, he's not stopping.

his kiss is intense. controlled heat and restraint, the kind that comes from holding back far too long. you feel his thumb press into your side, rumpling your shirt as he angles his head.

when a knock echoes through the closet, diluc all but stumbles back. his breath is heavier, his eyes darkened. the door opens in front of you. and diluc, briefly, gently, smooths down your shirt again, something like a smile pulling at his lips, "apologies." he mumbles.

the way his fingers linger against your waist suggests he is not sorry at all.

venti pours his all into your relationship. he's so used to playful banter and light conversations that real intimacy is almost frightening to him. for you, though, it's worth it.

he'd confess to you drunkenly. he'd cling to you as you drag him out of the tavern, mumbling incoherently, arms snaked tightly around your torso, and, just as you set him down on a mattress, he'd reach out, caress your cheek with his hand. "[name]," he'd hiccup, giggling about who knows what, "you're so beautiful."

doesn't bother denying it the next morning, instead, he offers you a dandelion, and murmurs, "you know what they say about drunken words."

from then on, he's practically glued to your side.

chaste touches are his favorite. a kiss on your cheek or forehead, leaning his head on your shoulder or vice versa, dancing together. his favorite, however, is laying by your side in the glassy plains. he'd prop himself up on an elbow, pluck daisies from your hair, or hum a quiet song to help you sleep, whichever you prefer.

wants to show you the world. he'll use the wind to take you all throughout mondstadt, smiling ear to ear when your breath is stolen by the views. scared of heights? don't worry, he'll gladly hold your hand.

adores the rain. he'll drag you out even if it's pouring, encourage you to jump in puddles and pepper kisses all over your face. he'll wrap you up in a blanket afterwards and warm you up, he just wants to savor every moment with you while he can.

would dedicate all his songs and poems to you from then out, he's not exactly shy about your relationship.

"you know, [name], i'm glad we found each other. where would i be without you?"

albedo is more subtle, but no less romantic. he doesn't understand the significance of bold gestures, he prefers quiet, more intimate things. whispered words, stolen kisses, simply sitting near each other, even in silence, he loves it all.

you would have to really work to get him to confess first. he's worried about harming you, after all, worried about letting you get too close.

but, when you stay, even after hearing his origin, after knowing what he's capable of, he finds himself unable to deny it any longer.

he'd confess late at night, when the two of you are bundled in coats and huddled close to the fire to ward off the cold of dragonspine. he'd sit just a little too close, his hand brushing yours ever so often.

"what i feel for you," he'd begin, voice so soft it's nearly lost in the wind, "is .. complicated. but, i know this much - you are more than just a friend to me."

he wouldn't look at you, not til you take his hand in yours and reciprocate his feelings. only then would he turn his head, cheeks tinted pink from something other than the cold, and smile, "you're lovely. may i?"

he kisses you that night, and every night after that.

calls you 'my love', 'sweetheart', or 'dear' occasionally, but prefers your name, it's more intimate that way.

his sketchbook is full of small doodles of you. he won't even realize he's drawing you, not until it happens again and again. fortunately, he's not one to get embarrassed. he'll happily let you look through his sketches, and even offer to paint you.

you distract him from his work. sucrose has to pester him to get him to focus, because he's so often simply staring at you, lost in a daydream.

"i don't often like to take risks. but, for you, i'm willing to lose it all."

people think diluc is cold and distant, but once he realizes he's crushing on you, he's the exact opposite. he fumbles with his words when you're talking to him, spills wine on the counter when you walk into the tavern. it's humiliating, what you've done to him.

you're going to have to make the first move. he's unfamiliar with affection, and he thinks you're way out of his league, he'll let hell freeze over before he confesses to you.

when you do tell him, it's quiet. the tavern had emptied, diluc let you stay, he always does, while he cleans the counter for closing. "you know, diluc," you say, "this is almost like a date."

he nearly cracks the glass in his hands, swallows to hide his surprise, and glances to you from beneath his eyelashes, "is .. is it?" he asks, before adding, softer this time, "is that a problem?"

you assure him it isn't, and, he smiles, silently relieved. he's not as shy after that, he'll place a hand on your back in crowds, glower at people flirting with you at the bar, offer you his arm when you two walk together. with diluc, it's been domestic from the start.

on the off occasion that he uses pet names, he calls you 'beautiful', because that's what you are to him.

he doesn't tell you he loves you for a long time. he shows his affection through gestures and layered words. he'll cup your face, rest his forehead against yours in the quiet of the night, "you're wonderful." he'd murmur each time, and that was as close to an 'i love you' that you needed.

he's deeply afraid of losing you. when he's acting as the darknight hero, he takes special care in looking out for you. if you were ever in danger, he'd drop it all to get to you. he wouldn't ever hesitate to take a hit for you.

takes his hair down near you because he loves when you comb your fingers through it. he'd melt against you, weary from a long day, and let you play with his long locks for hours if he could.

warns kaeya to stay away from you.

"thank you for staying by me, [name]. i understand it isn't easy."

xiao is confused. why are you constantly on his mind? why can't he look away from you? zhongli tells him he's infatuated, and his confusion turns to denial. he's an adepti, riddled with karmic energy, he doesn't deserve you.

even so, he finds himself collecting little things for you. flowers, crystal flies, a pebble you looked at for a lingering moment. sometimes, he hands them to you as a gift, "take it," he'd say, stubbornly staring off in the other direction.

like diluc, you'd have to confess to xiao. when you kiss him for the first time, he's frozen. he stares at you, mouth half open, for so long you start doubting yourself, convinced he's upset.

he stops you when you apologize, "do it again," he says instead, hooking a finger through your belt loop to pull you closer and kiss you over and over..

very awkward, stumbles through compliments, "you - ahem - look nice today." or "you are .. a strong fighter." he thinks it's embarrassing, you find it endlessly endearing.

plagued by nightmares. you had to ask over and over to get him to sleep beside you, each time he denied fervently, he worries about hurting you somehow.

when you finally do get him to lay down, he's stiff. laying on his back, staring at the ceiling, eyes wide open, he's not even trying to look comfortable, not even pretending to sleep. it's not until you reach over, thread your fingers through his, that he finally relaxes. adepti don't need to sleep, but he lets himself rest beside you, bones weary from decades of fighting.

he wakes long before you do, but never leaves without kissing your forehead and pulling the blankets up to your chin. "i'll be back soon," he whispers each morning.

would not call you by any pet names. sorry, but it's true.

"you have to be more careful. i can't lose you, too."

childe lights up when you enter a room. he's not shy and he's not subtle, not at all. he flirts with you - an arm around your shoulder, a casual compliment - but you never take any of it seriously because, well, it's childe. he's the type of guy to flirt with everybody.

what you don't realize, however, is that he stopped so much as looking at anybody else when you came into his life. he has eyes for you, and it's so much more than just casual to him.

"come on, one date," he'd scramble after you through the streets of liyue, ducking to meet your gaze, "dinner? drinks? my treat, of course."

elated when you agree, even more elated when you let him hold your hand and kiss you that night. yeah, he's very proud to have you as a partner.

loves when you wear his clothes, especially his scarf. his favorite thing to do is catch the ends of it, pulling you close so he can kiss you til you shove him away, laughing.

he's playful, but he's also extremely loyal to you. he gets serious sometimes, there will be nights when he's not smirking, when he isn't laughing. instead, he traces any scars on your skin with reverence, leaning down to kiss each one, "i won't let anyone hurt you. my life is yours," he'd promise lowly, resting his forehead on your shoulder.

teaches you how to wield a bow so he can stand behind you with his hands over yours, whispering instructions in your ear just to laugh when you shiver.

is the most annoying person to share a bed with. he sleeps like a starfish and he just can't stand to be even an inch away from you. it's an arm around your waist, or a hand tugging your head to rest on his chest, or his leg hooked over yours. i hope you don't value your personal space too much, because he'll get very pouty and upset if you push him away.

when you two reunite after being separated, he picks you up easily and spins you around, laughing softly. he kisses your cheek, your temple, your nose, anywhere he can reach, "i missed you," he'd mumble into your skin, breathing you in.

"you're the best, babe. how'd i get so lucky, huh?"

kazuha loves like a gentle breeze. he never pushes, never pries, and always puts you first.

he wasn't nervous when he confessed to you, you two had been dancing around your feelings long enough for him to know you felt the same.

the deck was empty that night, the rest of beidou's crew off drinking, though something told you they left you and kazuha alone on purpose.

"[name]," he said, breaking the long silence, "you know i think you're beautiful, right?"

he's quietly flirtatious like that, sneaking compliments into sentences like it's nothing. it never fails to make you blush.

when he kissed you for the first time, it was as soft as his voice, a gentle press of his lips to yours. his hands cupped your face, one sliding through your hair. when he pulled back, panting softly, he pressed his forehead to yours, "you taste sweet," he murmured, "and you smell good," he added, before leaning in to catch your lips again.

he likes when you rest your head in his lap or curl up against him. he'll comb his fingers through your hair and hum softly til you fall asleep. he's content to sit there for hours.

he worries for you when he's traveling or you two are apart. he's still haunted by tomo, and he couldn't bear to see you go, too.

he'd write you letters, signing each one with - "take care, my love" - and anxiously awaiting your response.

when you reunite, he greets you with a lingering kiss. he always tastes like salt and smells like the ocean.

"you never fail to amaze me, [name]. i'm grateful to have you by my side."

scaramouche, wanderer, kunikuzushi , whatever you want to call him by, he'll answer, just for you. you've always been that person for him, the one he'll let himself relax for, smile near, the one he can be human with.

he pushed you away at first with biting comments and near-threats. you stubbornly stuck around. when he realized he liked that, he knew he was doomed.

"you're an idiot," he said one day, hands wrapping gauze around a wound on your arm, "but you're my idiot."

it was so quiet you almost missed it. he refused to repeat it and wouldn't look you in the eye for a week after that. but you didn't miss the way he saved you your favorite food, or bought you something you glanced twice at.

your first kiss wasn't gentle. he never is, he never learned how to be. his lips against yours are rough in a way that doesn't feel personal. his hands tremble slightly where they rest on your waist. he sighs whenever you touch him - a hand on his face, his shoulders, it makes him melt.

he puts up a convincing front by bottling up his feelings - all the sadness and the resentment - he never lets it show. but sometimes, only around you, he'd let himself break. you hold him each time, his head buried against your shoulder, hands clutching the back of your shirt, tears dampening the fabric.

he's not typically romantic, but he is a tease. he'll lean in close, like he's going to kiss you, and instead thumb at the corner of your mouth, pulling back with a smirk, "you had a little something." he'd say, proud of himself.

sometimes, though, if he's feeling generous, you'll get his hands on your face, guiding you closer. his voice is low as he murmurs, "open your mouth," before he kisses you so deeply it makes your knees feel weak.

he doesn't really use pet names. it's 'idiot' or your name. maybe a mocking 'sweetheart' if he's feeling playful.

"you must be stupid, sticking around me. i'm .. glad, though."

itto loves exactly how he acts - loudly. he's your boyfriend and he wants everyone to know. "yup, that person right there? that's my partner. that's right, my partner. hey, babe! it's me, i love you!"

the arataki gang is sick of it. but they like you, so they let it slide.

he makes you go hunting for beetles together. if you're squeamish around bugs, he'd loudly proclaim, "i'll save you!" and carry every beetle out of your sight until you're comfortable. you're his top priority, after all.

every time he sees you, he wraps you a bone-crushing bear hug, squeezing tightly. whether its been 20 minutes or 20 days, he's still equally as excited to see you.

when he comes home after a long day, he'd collapse against the bed, sprawled like a starfish. "man, what a long day," he'd exclaim, giving you a pleading look, "the only thing that could make me feel better is a kiss from my beautiful partner." when you glare or look exasperated, he adds, "please?" and you melt every time.

when you kiss him for the first time, on a rooftop under the stars, he stiffens. he tries to play it off, but he's clearly inexperienced - all teeth and clumsy hands.

you pull away, and he's bright red, hand rubbing at the back of his neck, "oh, wow, um, that was .. wow! we should, um, do that again. if you want to?"

he doesn't have to ask twice.

he's proud of everything you do. tell him about an accomplishment and he'll grin ear to ear and ruffle your hair, "i knew you could do it!"

he likes to intertwine your fingers and swing your hands up and down while you two walk together.

"i love you, gorgeous. you know that, right?"

But before long, your manner changed. You began to smile, to laugh, to move with a lightness that bewitched even the most stone-hearted of men. Lord Sukuna became ensnared by your charm.

The other concubines burned with envy. When one was heard speaking ill of you, Sukuna ordered her to be removed, her name thereafter unspoken within the women’s hall.

Soon, he called for you not only to his bedchamber, but also to share tea in the garden, to dine beside him, to speak with him under the moonlight. The smallest tremor of your lip, the glisten in your eyes — these things could bend the will of the strongest sorcerer.

One morning, you complained softly to Uraume that you were forbidden to leave the estate. When she answered that it was the Lord’s command, you settled on bringing it before him.

That night, after passion’s heat had cooled, you lay beside him, tracing light patterns along his back with your painted nails, humming a gentle tune.

“Beloved lord,” you murmured, “I long to walk in the town, to see the markets.”

He turned his gaze upon you. “You know I cannot allow it. It is not permitted for those of the inner chambers.”

You turned from him with a dramatic sigh. “Then your rules are cruel indeed.”

He shifted nearer, his tone softening. “If I grant it to you, I must grant it to all. You would bring me turmoil, little one.”

You said nothing, the silence between you deepening like the night itself. He couldn’t stand it, therefore he relented. “Very well. I shall have one of the inner attendants escort you tomorrow.”

You smiled, bright. “You are too kind, my lord.” You pressed yourself to him once again, your joy radiant.

Yet soon you grew rigid against him.

“What is it now, troublesome one?” he questioned.

You whispered in his ear seductively, “I would rather it be you who comes with me.”

He gave a low laugh. “And how would that appear?”

“Would you rather another man stand beside me, choosing my garments? Would you have his eyes upon me?” You said dramatically.

You rose, clutching the bedding around you, the silk clinging to your skin like a dress. “Would you wish another to see me like so?”

He struck the mattress with his hand, his voice thunderous. “Enough! I shall summon the merchants here. You shall have your market within these walls.”

Then, more softly: “I alone will choose what best adorns you. Now, come back to bed.”

You obeyed, curling once more at his side. “Truly, my lord you are the most generous of all men,” you whispered.

A faint smile touched his lips as he smoothed your hair. “Rest now, troublesome one,” he said.

You closed your eyes, content in the knowledge that you held the strongest man in the realm of your palm.