Ratio, Anaxa, and aventurine (I'd add harumasa here too if u did write fr him but oh well X3c) x spouse who got sick and is hiding it from them.
It's like they think they did a good job hiding their sore throat, coughing and sniffing, maybe even hiding how tired their body feels
And then the boys humour them fr a while, watch a movie/documentary, or paint/art or play board games (chess plzzz I'm so bad at it but I'd love to play chess with them, maybe have them teach me~), and then they stop humoring them when it's bed time, letting them know the cats been out of the bag for a while now
And then fluff! Body massages, medicine, cuddles or yapping anything before both gets knocked out like a light (more focus on the fluff than the hiding part, unless it's the chess scene, that u can extend XD)
-🍮
Checkmate and Sweet Dreams
Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Harumasa x Reader, Fluff, Sick Reader, Established Relationship, Comfort & Care, Gentle Teasing, Cuddling & Body Warmth, Chess Shenanigans, Soft Partners, Affectionate Banter, Massages & Pampering, Reader Being Stubborn, Boys Seeing Through Reader's Act Immediately, Sleepy Goodnight Conversations.
Warnings: Mild Illness, Slight Angst If You Squint (mostly from the reader trying to hide it), Aventurine Being a Tease, Harumasa Calling You Out Casually, Ratio Being Smug Yet Affectionate, Soft Touches & Lots of Warmth, Use of Pet Names, Slightly Sleep-Deprived Reader, Overprotective but Loving Behavior.
A/N: uhhh I tried writing for him? I hope I did him well 😭🙏 (probably not)
Aventurine had known from the moment you greeted him that something was off. Your voice was just a touch raspier, your usual warmth slightly dimmed, and despite your best efforts, you couldn't quite hide the sluggishness in your movements.
But Aventurine? Oh, he was amused.
So, instead of calling you out immediately, he played along.
"Chess, darling?" he suggested with a charming smirk, setting up the board on the velvet-clad table in your shared suite. His magenta and cyan eyes gleamed with mischief. "Unless, of course, you're afraid I'll completely outmaneuver you again."
You scoffed, masking a sniffle behind a hand. "As if. This time, I'm winning."
Aventurine leaned forward, propping his chin on his palm. "Big words for someone who lost in ten moves last time. But by all means—let's make this interesting."
You rolled your eyes and made the first move. Pawn to e4. Classic. Aventurine countered smoothly, watching you carefully as you played.
You were good. Not brilliant, but good enough to make him take his time, even if he didn't need to. Yet, as the game progressed, he noted how you rubbed your temples when you thought too hard, how your fingers trembled just a bit when you moved a piece, and how your breaths came shallower with each passing turn.
Still, you fought—both in the game and against the exhaustion weighing down on you.
At some point, Aventurine decided to drag things out, throwing in unnecessary gambits just to watch your brows furrow in concentration. It was adorable, really.
Finally, you slumped back with a groan. "You win," you admitted, rubbing your eyes. "Again."
Aventurine leaned forward, flicking your forehead gently. "Not surprising, but that’s not the point. The point is—" He suddenly scooped you up, ignoring your squeak of protest as he carried you bridal-style toward the plush bed.
"Aventurine—!"
"You thought you could fool me?" His grin was all smug amusement, but there was a softness beneath it. "Darling, I read people for a living. You didn’t stand a chance."
He placed you onto the bed with an exaggerated flourish, tucking you in before pressing the cool back of his hand against your forehead. "Mmm. I’d say you're about two moves away from collapsing entirely."
You pouted. "I wanted to spend time with you."
Aventurine chuckled, his gloved fingers brushing against your cheek. "And you will. In my arms, while you rest." He slipped beside you, his warmth enveloping you as he massaged slow, soothing circles into your aching shoulders.
"Sleep, love," he murmured against your temple. "I’ll be right here when you wake up. And don’t worry—next time, I’ll let you win."
"You never let me win," you mumbled sleepily.
Aventurine smirked. "Exactly."
"You’re awful at chess."
Ratio’s voice was calm, neutral, but the amused glint in his eyes gave him away.
You huffed, sitting cross-legged across from him on the floor of your shared study. "I’m learning."
"Learning implies progress," he replied smoothly, moving his knight with an air of practiced ease. "And yet, your moves remain just as questionable as they were fifteen minutes ago."
You narrowed your eyes at him. Bishop to d3.
He didn’t respond right away, instead observing you carefully. You were too still, save for the occasional sniffle. Your hands, usually steady, trembled slightly each time you reached for a piece.
Ratio knew. He had known from the moment you insisted on playing chess tonight, despite the slight rasp in your voice and the subtle exhaustion in your eyes.
But he humored you.
For now.
"I'll give you one last chance to rethink your strategy," he said, voice light but firm.
You scoffed. "What, you’re coaching me now?"
His lips curled into the faintest smile. "I would, but you look about five minutes away from falling over."
You froze.
Ratio sighed, reaching forward and flicking your forehead. "The cat’s been out of the bag for a while now. You honestly thought you could hide it from me?"
"...Yes?"
Ratio gave you a look before standing and effortlessly lifting you into his arms. You yelped, instinctively clinging to him as he carried you toward the couch.
"This is humiliating," you muttered.
"This is necessary," he corrected, placing you down with meticulous care. "Your body needs rest. Even the brightest minds require maintenance."
You pouted. "But—"
"No buts." He draped a blanket over you, then sat beside you, pulling you into his arms. One hand gently massaged the tense muscles in your back while the other threaded through your hair, fingertips cool against your fevered skin.
Ratio sighed as he adjusted you into a more comfortable position. "Next time, try not to challenge me while hiding an illness. Your loss is inevitable either way."
You let out a small, tired laugh. "You’re so arrogant."
"And you’re a terrible liar," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Now rest."
Harumasa leaned back against the couch, arms lazily draped over the backrest. He watched as you agonized over your next move, your brows furrowed in deep concentration.
"You’re stalling," he drawled, lips twitching in amusement.
"I’m thinking," you shot back, voice slightly hoarse.
He hummed. "I dunno. Thinking usually involves some kind of logic."
You glared at him. Harumasa merely smirked, fingers tapping idly against his knee.
He had known you were sick the moment you refused to nap after dinner. You were sluggish, blinking more than necessary, and every few minutes, you subtly wiped your nose when you thought he wasn’t looking.
Still, he let you play. Because you looked happy.
Eventually, though, your exhaustion won. You moved your queen right into danger.
Harumasa immediately took it.
"Checkmate." He grinned. "Easiest win of my life."
You groaned, dropping your head onto the table. "I hate you."
"Lies," he teased, ruffling your hair. "C’mon, game’s over. Time for bed."
You started to protest, but Harumasa had already gathered you into his arms, carrying you to bed with ease.
"Cheater," you mumbled against his shoulder.
He huffed a laugh. "Pretty sure you were the one cheating—y'know, trying to act fine when you’re clearly running on fumes."
Harumasa set you down, pulling the blankets over you before crawling in beside you. Without hesitation, he tucked you against his chest, warm and solid and safe.
"Sleep," he murmured, rubbing slow, soothing circles into your back. "I’ll be here when you wake up."
You sighed, sinking into his warmth. "...Fine."
Harumasa smirked, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple. "That’s my win."
Reader mentioned that they liked playing chess a long time ago and Caelus accidentally overheard that. So like, a date idea popped into his head. Chess in a park (like how older people play them). Problem being that Caelus has never touched a chess board in his life (was hoping that reader could teach him) and reader didn't touch one since childhood (hence the "long time ago"). So it leads to chaos, them trying to play but completely screwing up how each figure moves, the Fischer clock completely forgotten and so many weird glances from others at the park. I think it'd be a fun idea.
Caught in an L-Shaped Love
Summary: Caelus overhears you mention your childhood love for chess and decides to plan a surprise park date around it—despite never having played himself. What follows is a hilarious, heartwarming mess of forgotten rules, wandering bishops, and made-up chess lore, all under the watchful disapproval of nearby park regulars. Amidst the chaos, laughter, and a few blushes, the two of you discover that sometimes the best dates are the ones that go gloriously off-script.
Tags: Caelus x Reader, Fluff, Humor, Park Date, Chess Shenanigans, Mutual Pining, Soft Moments, Slice of Life, Slow Burn Vibes, Light Banter, Cute Chaos.
Warnings: Just secondhand embarrassment from poor chess etiquette.
The sun was kind today. It filtered softly through the trees, dappling the stone chess tables in the little corner of the park where time seemed to slow down. Birds chirped lazily. Somewhere nearby, an old man sipped tea and shook his head disapprovingly.
Caelus sat across from you, one leg crossed over the other, brow furrowed like he was trying to decode an alien dialect.
“Okay,” he said slowly, squinting at the board. “So this little horse guy… he moves in an L-shape?”
“That’s what I think,” you replied, chewing your bottom lip in uncertainty. “It’s been… like, ten years since I played?”
“Good,” Caelus said with a sudden grin. “Then we’re on equal footing. I’ve never even seen a chess board before today.”
You snorted. “Wait—you invited me to a chess date knowing neither of us remembers how to play?”
“I thought you could teach me!” he defended, eyes wide with mock betrayal. “You said you used to like it. I thought it'd be nostalgic!”
It was nostalgic—just not in the way either of you expected.
The chessboard in front of you was neatly set up—at least, you hoped it was set up correctly. You were both fairly certain you put the king and queen on the wrong squares. The Fischer clock Caelus had borrowed from somewhere sat to the side, ignored and ticking away like it had long since given up on the idea of structure.
Caelus reached for a bishop and moved it diagonally—four squares—and then a sharp right turn into enemy territory.
“...I don’t think they’re allowed to turn,” you said, frowning.
“They’re not?” Caelus looked genuinely confused. “But it’s called a bishop. Doesn’t that sound like it should be able to pivot in moral and spatial directions?”
You stared at him.
“What?”
You cracked up laughing, nearly knocking over a pawn in the process. “That is not how chess works, Caelus!”
“Debatable,” he said, straightening up with a proud smile. “There’s no referee. I think I’m winning.”
“No, I think we’re both losing,” you chuckled. “Especially in the eyes of that man over there.” You tilted your head toward a grey-haired gentleman glaring at your board like it was a crime scene.
Caelus gave him a sheepish little wave. The man turned away in visible anguish.
You both burst out laughing again.
“You know,” Caelus said as your giggles subsided, “this might be the most fun I’ve ever had not playing a game correctly.”
You looked at him, the sunlight catching on the silver strands of his hair, the slight crinkle at the edge of his eyes from smiling.
“Same,” you said softly.
The moment hung between you—quiet, warm, unhurried.
“I’m really glad you invited me,” you added. “Even if we’ve disgraced the noble art of chess.”
“I’ll take all the scornful glares in the galaxy if it means making you smile like that again,” Caelus replied without missing a beat.
You blinked, caught off guard, heart skipping like a pawn trying to leap over two squares illegally.
“…You’re cheesy.”
“And you love it.”
Unfortunately, true.
You leaned forward and picked up a rook, tapping it against the table thoughtfully. “Okay, new rule. Every time we move a piece the wrong way, we have to make up a story for why it’s allowed.”
Caelus’s eyes lit up. “Deal. So when I move this pawn backward, it’s actually retreating to warn the king of an imminent dragon attack.”
You gasped. “Not the pawn rebellion arc!”
The old man nearby groaned.
You and Caelus cackled like children in detention.
And in that chaotic little park corner, surrounded by badly played chess, misused pieces, and judgmental stares, the universe felt just a little bit brighter.
