“In sickness, and in health.” - A Diluc X reader fluff oneshot
Apriluc day 1: caretaker (except you’re his stubborn spouse..)
Reminder: I won’t be doing every single day of apriluc, but I will try my best to do as many as I can 🥹
Word count: 1,196
CW: vomiting, illness, food poisoning
Warning: This may not be your cup of tea! If you don't like it, then don't read it (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ‹𝟹 I apologize for any mischaracterization as well as any grammer or spelling errors. Thank you for reading 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩
You and your husband Diluc had been married for a little over half a year. At this point in the marriage, congratulations had simmered and the term ‘newly-weds’ was packed away.
Months had passed, and his vows were burned into your memory, replayed when you needed a reminder of his love the most. Yet one section stuck out most at the moment.
“For eternity, I will love you. In sickness, and in health.”
And now, it was time to put that to the test.
You were sat in front of the toilet, hands braced on either side of the seat while your stomach emptied whatever contents it held from last night. Diluc held your hair up in a makeshift ponytail with one hand, while holding a small glass of cold water with the other.
“My love, you cannot go to work in these circumstances. I won’t allow it.” Diluc argued, though his voice contained more concern than demand.
You ran a hand through your already tousled hair, “I can’t—cough—I already took Friday off.”
“That means nothing. You will take the day off. I’ll even call your boss myself if you need me to.” Diluc retaliated.
You rolled your eyes, yet kept silent till the nausea resided. Before you could even stand, Diluc had pulled you up and into his arms.
“Diluc—! I can stand perfectly fine!” You exclaimed.
“Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. Your body is in critical condition, and you are in no shape to put any strain on your muscles.” He explained, tightening his hold on you, “You’ve cared for me plenty of times, why must you be so stubborn once the tables are turned?”
You let out an irritated huff of air, even while your body betrayed you by relaxing in his hold.
He carried you to your shared bedroom, laying you down on the plush comforter as if you were made out of spun glass.
“I’ll be back. Don’t move an inch.” Diluc sighed, giving you a look as if to say, ‘I know you won’t do what I ask, but it would be greatly appreciated if you listened just this once.’
He patted the comforter before walking back to the bathroom. The quiet sounds of the faucet turning on for a few seconds, then off echoed. Diluc soon came back with a freshly damp washcloth in hand.
“Diluc, I don’t need all this...” you protested, running a hand down your face.
“You’re right, you don’t need it. But I’m giving it to you because it will help.” Diluc insisted.
Despite his stern tone, he laid the cool cloth across your forehead with the gentleness he’d always longed to show. “See? Doesn’t that feel better?”
You stayed silent for a moment, crossing your arms and turning your head away in a weak attempt at defiance. “This is ridiculous.”
Diluc scoffed, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, well, I guess you just married a ridiculous man.”
He reached out, thumb brushing your feverish cheeks. “Whine all you want, I’m not going anywhere.”
You let out another huff, turning your face to the other side as if the left side was more convincing than the right. The movement made your stomach lurch violently, a small whimper escaping before you could stop it, your body finally relaxing in surrender.
“There. That’s what I thought. Now, drink. Small sips will suffice.” Diluc urged, holding the cold glass of water from earlier to your dry lips.
You drank grudgingly, glaring at him over the rim of the glass.
Silence settled over the room as he made phone calls quietly. One being a trusted nearby doctor's office, making an appointment for tomorrow morning. While the other was a phone call to your boss excusing your absence. His voice stayed calm yet stoic. A tone that silenced objections and kept voices from being raised.
You had tried to get up twice. Once to “check emails,” and another claiming that you felt better. Both times Diluc guided you back into bed, tucking you in with that caring firmness that made you both furious and warm inside.
Once evening had hit, you had puked a total of eight times. Or at least tried to puke eight times. At this point, you were pretty much just puking up hopes and dreams.
The sun set over Mondstadt, and the warm, comforting air of summer daylight turned into the brisk, cool breeze of summer nightlight.
Diluc had been attempting to feed you at least something so you weren’t empty, yet it seemed every time you digested something it came right back up.
“My love, you have to try at least one more time. It’s not toast this time, it’s saltines. Maybe these will stay down.” Diluc pleaded.
You exhaled shakily, too exhausted to show any other form of defiance. You opened your mouth anyway, letting him slide half a saltine onto your tongue.
Diluc settled a pyro-warmed hand over your cramping stomach, “If this doesn’t stay down, then we’ll go on a liquid diet till tomorrow morning. Then we’ll see what the doctor says.”
Diluc fed you a few more crackers, then leaned back to attentively watch how your body reacted.
Thirty minutes passed, the longest your body had allowed food to stay in your system without vomiting it all up.
“I’m glad to see that you can hold something down. I’ve been worried that you’d only get sicker due to lack of nutrition.” Diluc murmured, his hand rubbing circles into your abdomen.
Something that Diluc should have just kept internal, because before either of you knew it you were leaning over the edge of the bed, yet again hurling into the trashcan.
“Hm...” Diluc hummed under his breath, “Shouldn’t have spoken so soon, I suppose.”
His hand rubbed your back as he moved to sit right beside your convulsing form. “Let it out, dear. I’m right here.”
Once the worst of it had passed, you flopped back against the pillows, earning a soft “careful” for your husband.
“I hate being like this. All useless and revoltingly sick.” You grumbled.
Diluc climbed back into the bed after taking care of the vomit-filled trash can, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against him.
“You’re not useless. You could never be useless.” Diluc whispered against your temple, “You’re sick. There’s a large difference. And I’m gonna take care of you. Everything will be okay, I swear it.”
You melted a fraction, leaning into the warmth of his touch. “I could’ve powered through this, y’know? Now my team will think I’m unreliable.”
“They’ll think you’re human.” Diluc countered softly, “And if they don’t, then they will eventually. I’ll make sure of that. Now, rest, my love. I’m right here.”
That being said, exhaustion eventually caught up with you. Your eyelids drooped, and eventually closed. And your breathing slowed to a calm, steady pace.
Diluc didn’t sleep. He couldn’t knowing that his beloved spouse was in a state of weakness. He didn’t mind it though.
You were his priority. And you always would be. In sickness and in health.