Feb 14
✦ After 500 years, you're still his Valentine. Would you accept?
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✦ After 500 years, you're still his Valentine. Would you accept?
A dance— Capitano
Synopsis : your relationship with him grows, and he seems sweeter than ever.
Wc : 3.2k
Warnings : contains NSFW content, fem!reader, reader is mostly called 'wife', he's super sweet, soft sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink kinda, reader wears a dress and heels.
Notes : part 2 is heree! I highly recommend reading part 1 here. And part 3 is out here!
You've tried creating art, you've tried cooking (with the help of your personal maid, Marina), you've even tried planting.
Yeah, you're a plant mom now. Not only that, you're a cat mom too. Saving the poor kitty from the harsh rain one day, you couldn't leave the poor little one outside. It's mother seeming to abandon it.
All because you have become extremely bored on the days where Capitano wouldn't be here, and he forbade you to even clean your shared bedroom because he thinks it's useless when there are servants present to do the job. (He doesn't want to tire you out.)
Come to think of it, the last time you saw him, he kept avoiding you. Whenever you tried striking a conversation during dinner, he would only hum and nod. Or when you suggested to have another picnic, he flatly refused, and it felt like the hardest rejection to your face.
It's like he had his own mood swings that you had to deal with. One day he would indulge you in the activities you wanted to do, then the next he would refuse.
Like last week.
“I used to do this when i was young.” You tell him with the softest smile to yourself, your fingers working carefully with the flower petals and strings. You were determined to make this flower crown, and you were taking your sweet time just to have him by your side.
Capitano silently listened to your words, his gaze fixed on your gentle movements as you delicately fashioned a flower crown. The air between you was calm, "You have a talent for making flower crowns," he eventually responded, his deep voice breaking the tranquil silence.
"Did you learn it from someone?”
“No… just by myself.” He couldn't help but be impressed by your innate ability to create such an intricate accessory without any formal instruction. "Self-taught." He mused, "You have an unusual aptitude for discovering things on your own.”
You hum back while adding the finishing touches, and he watched your proud display of the finished flower crown.
“this is for kitty!” You smile at the thought of the little one purring with a pretty crown on it's head.
Kitty? Capitano is confused once you start talking about the cat, you seem even more excited when you described how you cuddled with it.
"You just happened to come across this crying feline in the rain, and you brought it home with you?”
“yes! Ah, well… i hope you don't mind.”
“i don't.”
And that was the last of your conversation, and it's been a week since you last saw him.
“my lady,” You recognise the voice of Marina as she knocks on the door, and you grant her the permission of her entry.
You set the sleeping kitten on the fluffed up pillow to reach for the letter she hands you.
An invitation to the grand ball… you read the contents of it, scanning every word as you pull the paper down.
“like a party?” you ask, glancing up at her, "Yes, that is correct. A grand ball is taking place tonight. It's a gathering of the higher-ranking Fatui members and a few... select guests.” she trails off, unsure of what else to add on.
“I can see that this invitation is for Capitano, not to me.”
“lord Capitano doesn't normally attend these grand balls. So my lady, you will have to go instead.” Marina explains this and you feel like you're going to have a headache.
All you wanted to do today was sleep in with the kitten. Not to trouble yourself in some party.
But… if it's for the sake of your husband's reputation, then you are willing to do it.
You hope you don't pass away too quick from your social anxiety.
“Marina, does this really suit me?” You stare at your reflection, and Marina looks at you approvingly, her eyes taking in your stunning appearance. "Sì, my lady, it suits you perfectly," she assures you, "The dress brings out your features beautifully and fits your figure perfectly.”
“and the colour?”
"Oh, yes, the color is exquisite. It complements your skin tone perfectly. You look like a princess attending a royal ball.” and you smile shyly as you take your seat, “You flatter me too much, you know?”
Marina chuckles softly, moving behind you to work on your hair with practiced ease. "It's not flattery if it's the truth. You look truly radiant today." She begins to style your hair, weaving intricate braids and pinning them in place with delicate silver pins.
Though you can't even lie to yourself, you looked absolutely gorgeous, even when you felt a little down since you would be going alone, and you barely knew anyone.
Marina pauses in her work for a moment, her expression becoming sympathetic as she sensed your nervousness. “It's natural to feel that way. But I believe you will be fine. You are strong and independent." She resumes styling your hair, her fingers moving nimbly to create elegant curls.
You smile at her, looking at her from the mirror, “thank you.”
"It is my honor to serve you.” As she finishes your hair, she steps back to admire her work, a satisfied expression on her face. "You are ready, my lady.”
You are ready.
You are not ready.
Because why was everyone's eyes piercing bullets through you as you entered the main hall?
The whispers and murmurs start almost immediately, the guests clearly intrigued by your presence. However, you manage to keep your composure, straightening your back and walking forward with confidence, just like how Marina taught you.
Stay calm they won't eat you, you tell yourself, trying to maintain your composure under the weight of their gazes.
You were here to make friends, hopefully.
You scan the room, hoping that someone would approach you to engage in conversation. Yet nobody, not a single soul, seems to have the courage to do so. The guests continue their conversations and dances, seemingly ignoring your presence.
And so, you find yourself standing alone, sipping on a glass of champagne, feeling lost and slightly out of place.
Well this is boring. You could've stayed in with Kitty and Marina, but at least you get free food. They always taste better, right?
Everyone went silent all of a sudden, but you ignored it at first and continue taking sips of your drink.
But the silence becomes uncomfortable, just what happened to the party?
You turn around, your eyes widening immediately in surprise as you see Capitano walking towards you. Your heart seems to skip a beat as you watch him approach, his presence commanding attention and authority in the room. Capitano stops in front of you, you can't make up what his face must be like right now, but you think he has a stoic expression on his face as he takes in your appearance. His eyes roaming up and down your figure, seemingly appreciating the elegance of your dress.
“husband?” You blurt out, setting your glass aside to greet him.
"Wife," he says simply, acknowledging the fact that you have finally addressed him by that term.
The tension breaks when soft, elegant music begins to play, signaling the start of partner dances in the middle of the ballroom.
Capitano seems to realize this as he glances around at the couples already making their way to the dance floor. He then turns back to you, his expression unreadable as he silently contemplates the situation.
He can see the slight tension in your shoulders, the way your hand clutched at your dress.
"I suppose we should dance, wife.”
“you want to dance?”
"Yes," he responds. "It appears it's customary for couples at these events to dance together." He extends his hand in your direction, gesturing for you to take it. You take his hand, wrapping it gently around his gloved one. His fingers close around your hand, his grip gentle yet firm as he leads you towards the dance floor.
You notice the whispers and murmurs among the guests growing louder. But you chose to ignore them.
Capitano guides you to the center of the dance floor and positions himself opposite you, his hand settling onto your waist, and your hands on his shoulders.
"Do you know how to dance?" You whisper to him, making sure no one listens, and your eyes are on him.
"I may not engage in these social events often, but even I understand the basics of dance." His hand on your waist pulls you closer to him, you follow his lead.
Interesting.
He leads the dance with of assurance and grace, his movements fluid and confident. As you follow his lead and swirl together across the dance floor, your eyes meet his, and you find yourself unable to look away. The closeness between you makes it feel as if the rest of the world has faded away, leaving only the two of you dancing together.
You notice how he seems to turn his head slightly to look at others, mimicking their movements swiftly, it makes you smile to yourself.
His hand on your waist feels warm, almost burning even through the fabric of your dress. It's a strange sensation you've never felt when touching him, despite having already kissed (once) before.
”my dress,” you whisper amidst the graceful dance, “what do you think of it?”
You figured you always needed to give him a little push when initiating things.
His attention drift down to take in the sight of your dress once again. His gaze roams over the fabric, lingering on the way it clings to your figure, and how the color contrasts against your skin.
"It's... " he pauses, you're just wearing a dres, but he finds it difficult to describe what he feels, "Very pleasing to the eye.” he manages to continue.
"You look rather well tonight, as well.”
“Thank you, wife.”
The music suddenly shifts to a slower tempo, and Capitano instinctively adjusts his hold on you, pulling you slightly closer as he continues to dance with you.
You totally ignore how your face is almost pressed up against his chest.
As interesting as the party was, the worst part of was walking back to the estate. Why? Because the carriage decided to break down, or maybe the horses were sleepy, you don't know.
You're glad your husband is with you, or else you might've been sacrificed to the dogs at night, now even ants will fear this big guy.
But what's worse? Your damn heels are killing you. The sides of your pinky toes are already aching that you are sure it will cause nasty blisters by tomorrow.
"Perhaps next time you should wear more comfortable shoes." He stated bluntly, his deep voice betraying no pity for your situation. “but they look pretty, plus i feel elegant in them.” you stop at your tracks, looking up at him with a defeated expression.
"I'm well aware." he says dryly, "But at what cost? You're practically torturing yourself with those heels.”
He's half right, your point still stands. Beauty is pain. And now you'll have to sacrifice your beauty.
Bye bye heels. You slide them off your feet, bow having your poor feet to walk on these rocky grounds. You do feel a little better after, though.
“stay still.” He utters, and you're confused, until he takes your heels in one hand before you feel a shift of your weight off your feet, finding yourself being carried into his arms.
you wrapped your arms around his neck silently, your eyes glancing up at him as he continues walking like he you weigh nothing.
The air around you is peaceful. You feel safe with him, he's not like the scary man you hear from the others. Maybe to others he was, but to you? He was soft for you.
Your head leans on his chest where his heart rested, the beats of his heart makes you sleepy, but you refuse to sleep just like this, you want to spend every single second savouring this feeling.
Capitano carried you all the way to the estate, and through the dark corridors, making his way to your shared chambers.
The soft moonlight filtering through the windows was the only source of illumination, the atmosphere around you quiet.
He gently deposited you back on your feet, you're back home safely.
“thank you.” You whisper, your hands reaching to take the pins out of your hair to let it breath from the scruffy yet beautiful hairstyle, and Capitano starts taking off the heavy layers off him as well, with the helmet out.
You don't notice how one of your dress straps seem to fall off your shoulders, but he notices, and oh did that make something in him stir.
His steps closer from behind you, his hand reaching to put the strap back in place, but instead, he glances at the other strap.
It looked rather lonely being on your shoulder, his fingers delicately sliding the strap down which makes you ultimately still in your place.
Your entire body trembled slightly as Capitano's hands caressed your skin, tracing gentle paths across your shoulders and back down to the zipper on your side. “May i.. help you out of your dress?” His low, gruff voice, asking for permission to help you out of your dress, made your heart beat faster.
You could only nod in response, your voice silenced by a mixture of anticipation and desire. Capitano's touch was meticulous, his thumb and index delicately moving down the zipper with deliberate slowness, prolonging the tension.
Capitano lets out another low hum as he watches the dress slide down to your ankles, now leaving you only in your undergarments. His hands traced the contour of your body, his touch delicate yet possessive. His own breathing became ragged, the sight of you partially undressed igniting a fire in his eyes.
“Will you allow me to touch you?”
The question makes you turn your head, of course he can.
When you don't stop him from wrapping his arms around you, his chest pressed against your back, he takes it as a green light to continue.
His hand first brushed your hair out of the way, to allow his lips to come in contact with the nape of your neck, “you're so beautiful..." he whispered, his hot breath sending jolts of electricity through your core.
“I don't…” he hesitates, wanting to move his hands away, “i don't want to do anything you don't like.”
And your expression softens at his concern, you turn around to take his face into your hands, your thumbs caressing the apples of his cheeks and he nuzzles into your touch, wrapping a hand around your wrist before pressing a kiss to your palm. You further reassure him by littering his face with your lips, giving every empty space of his skin with at least one kiss.
“Allow me to experience this with you, and i shall take care of you till i take my very last breath.” he hoists you up easily into his arms, rough hand under your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist, he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body covering yours as he looked down at you.
“You occupy my every thought,” he starts, “that it feels sinful to even look at your way.” He leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss as his hand continued its exploration, ripping your bra off to cup your breast, feeling your nipple harden under his touch. He rolled it between his fingers, pinching it gently as he deepened the kiss when you gasp, his tongue delving into your mouth, savouring your taste and angelic sounds.
He leaned down afterwards, his mouth latching onto your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and your hands find his ling strands instantly, tugging on them while being careful not to hurt him.
His fingers traced down to your hip, giving them a firm squeeze before ripping your panties off next, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit, feeling you writhe and tense up under him.
It felt like an unknown territory you've yet to explore.
Upon sensing your discomfort, he presses his lips to your eyelids, then to your neck, taking his time until you relaxed, until you started feeling good based off how you were bucking your hips now.
Oh how he wanted to take his time with you, but he was aching so bad that if he continues touching you he might just burst embarrassingly fast in his pants.
“Let me in, my wife.” He gently starts massaging your thighs as he parts them, making you feel more exposed than ever, but he distracts you by softly kissing you again and again while he's unbuckling his pants and pushing them down, revealing his throbbing thick, hard cock.
“Capitano—!” you try to squirm away when you feel his tip push into your tight hole, your lips parting from the way he stretched you open, but at the same time you felt relaxed with his soft whispers of ‘take your time’ and ‘you’re doing well, my wife.’
Your cunt soon takes in every inch, swallowing him whole until you were a panting mess, and you didn't even start.
Capitano then began to move, his thrusts slow and deep at first, letting you get used to his size, to how you feel, to how he feels as he makes love to you for the first time together.
You feel your heart up to your throat and ears, it felt incredible, something you've never felt before, your soft moans echoing in the air along with a few groans coming from him.
He shivered when he felt your fingertips trace the few scars littering his shoulders and back, his dick twitching almost instantly before his thrusts grew faster, more urgent.
His hand reached down, returning back to draw circles around the bundle of nerves, and he could feel your body tense, your walls clenching around his cock as he continued to rub your clit.
“come for your husband,” he breaths heavily next to your ear, and you come undone, your moans filling the room as he felt you milk his cock. He could feel his own release following after, his balls tightening before he slammed into you one last time, spilling thick ropes into your womb, until you were filled to the brim.
Your legs were shaking slightly around him, yet his warm embrace afterwards made you melt, eyelids heavy with him still being buried inside you.
—
You groggily woke up, still half in a dream-like state, the room bathed in shadows due to the closed curtains blocking out the morning sun.
As your senses slowly returned to reality, you heard a soft meow next to you, and sure enough, your little kitten had made itself comfortable in the middle of the bed. To your surprise, Capitano, who was still asleep beside you, didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the creature's presence.
“pst,” you whisper to your husband who only hummed in acknowledgment of your attention. “Can we go have a picnic this early morning? With our baby kitten of course.”
Tags: @sayastyx, @nastylilcvnt, @bigboygoose,
Things they do that make you question your entire relationship Pt.2
Warnings: Emotional damages, humiliation, belching, intoxication, unfunniness, My glorious king capitano, making out
(a/n: im sorry im unhinged and jobless, and i need to laugh again. Oh probably Ooc and certainly not proofread.)
Charachters: Yanfei, La Signora, Varka, Xiao, Zhongli, Dehya, Cyno, Capitano, Neuvillette, Furina, Kazuha and Wanderer
Yanfei: Wanted to sue you for emotional damages (She didnt like the way you said her name once also did it in public).
La Signora: You upset her so she made you kneel for her and beg for forgiveness while new fatui recruits looked on. (i just know some of you would enjoy this.)
Varka: Once when he was drunk he wanted to laugh at a joke you said but instead belched full in your face.
Xiao: Hissed at you because he is awkward like that.
Zhongli: You once made a sarcastic joke about some historic artifact and he gave you a whole monologue about the importance of said artifact. (He spoke for an hour before he was finished with his monologue and invited you for some tea)
Dehya: Made you do 30 pushups for lunch while she laughed (i swear she cares)
Cyno: After you received an unique TCG-card he became obsessed delirious and foaming at the mouth with said card and demanded you give him the card or else he would have to serve justice. Also makes unfunny jokes about your name all the time and even giggles after said joke, i mean high-pitched chortle.
Capitano: My glorious king would never make you question your relationship, you should be grateful to be in his presence.
Neuvillette: Cried when you mimicked his name in bad french and bit into the side of a baguette. (You thought he would be horrified and were excited to see his face. He stopped crying after half an hour and it was still raining heavily outside.)
Furina: Made you do weird musical dances on stage for her own entertainment. (can't a girl just feel the whimsy?)
Kazuha my love and light: Whenever the two of you are making out he sometimes gets inspiration for a poem and needs to write it down killing the entire mood. (Honestly he is probably giggling and kicking his feet while he is writing it down while you stand there)
Wanderer: You once combed your fingers through his bob and dandruff fell out like snow.
† a seat : the fatui.
❥ scenario: their s/o decides to take up residence on their lap --- during a meeting. ❥ no triggers ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ requested.
❥ la signora.
she wouldn't give much of a reaction, her eyebrow raising and a barely noticeable hint of amusement to her gaze. open affection isn't something she's keen to show, especially in a professional setting but she wouldn't make you move. if anything, she would just shift in her spot and adjust her posture to make sure you were comfortable, though her movements wouldn't be big enough to draw attention. she would enjoy your closeness but would remain as cold and composed as always. after the meeting is a different story. while she may not show too much emotion, she wouldn't try to hide the smirk as she approached you. 'you certainly know how to make a statement, don't you, darling?' she asked, reaching out to gently tip your chin up with her pointer finger, 'don't think you can distract me so easily.. you'll have to do better than that.' there was a clear affection and appreciation in her gaze, despite the words, honestly enjoying your boldness.
❥ scaramouche.
at first, he genuinely wouldn't even know how to respond, frozen for a split second before brushing it off, not wanting anyone to notice. he'd look at you, eyes flickering as if looking for an answer to your sudden actions. scara isn't one for such open displays of affection, or any at all, especially in such a formal setting - he would fight between irritation and silent, frustrated acceptance; he didn't want to cause a scene. 'what do you think you're doing?' he would hiss under his breath, leaning close to your ear, enough though he wasn't actually trying to remove you. he would be annoyed for the duration of the meeting, though just accepting your bold statement that he, quite honestly, didn't understand. oh boy, he'd be so fast to corner you, arms crossed and staring you down. 'what was that all about?' he demanded, though something was off - his tone didn't hold the same hate soaked bite it usually did; even his s/o had to deal with that. you could see the ghost of a blush on his features but you knew he'd never admit to being embarrassed. 'you're lucky no one said anything,' he muttered, the tiniest hint of softness forming in his gaze. he wasn't as upset as he wanted to seem.
❥ childe.
it shouldn't come as a surprise that he would be the most openly and unashamedly amused, of course, having no complaints. as soon as you took your place, a grin would form and he'd offer your head a soft nudge with his nose. 'comfortable?' he'd ask in a whisper, teasing as always but still loving. his arms found their own place around you, keeping you close. to childe, holding onto you came easy, automatically knowing how to shift so you were comfortable. he wouldn't be concerned a single bit about the others, the glances only making him grin further. he enjoyed showing off the relationship you had. he'd be pretty excited once the meeting ended, the grin never leaving his features, though softening into a smile once he approached you. 'you made it pretty hard for me to concentrate in there.. that was an important meeting,' he teased, arms wrapping around you once more to pull you closer; if you were honest, neither of you had heard a single word that was said. 'i'm not complaining, though,' he'd chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. he was just happy to have someone who was so open to show him affection.
❥ dottore.
as annoyed as he'd be, he'd also be curious. were you testing him? were you crazy? had you.. taken something? he'd really be at a loss, especially as someone who wasn't exactly one for public displays of affection - meeting or otherwise. he would view your actions as a distraction and wonder just what kind of statement you were trying to make. 'this better be worth the interruption,' he muttered, adjusting his posture to accommodate you, shifting his focus back to the meeting. he would occasionally glance to you, jaw clenching as he tried figuring you out. once the meeting was over and you dismissed yourself, only to be closely followed by him. 'what exactly were you trying to achieve?' he asked, hand taking hold of your jaw to lift your head, though his touch wasn't as rough as you expected it to be. you only blinked and shook your head. there was a shift to his usual demeanor, something a little softer, letting you know he wasn't as displeased as you thought. 'you should know better than to disrupt my focus,' he added, leaning closer to you, eyes searching your own, 'you truly are a strange little creature..'
❥ arlecchino.
she would spare you a glance, expression unreadable as it always was. you taking a place on her lap wouldn't cause even the slightest of budge to her composed nature - you would have to do a lot more for that to happen. she does, however, rest a possessive hand on your hip, making sure to keep you close. there would be no open acknowledgement of your actions but she would make sure you were comfortable, attention never leaving the meeting. all you really needed though were her actions; the quiet protectiveness, even in such a formal place. once the meeting ended, you wouldn't be leaving your spot, held steady by her. she would wait for everyone to leave before speaking, 'that was quite bold,' she spoke quietly, a hint of approval to her tone, 'but you should know others may not be so understanding.' as she spoke, she got closer to your ear, offering your hip a gentle squeeze. arle knew very well how to stake her claim and the last thing she needed was for someone to misunderstand your easy show of affection.
❥ columbina.
like childe, she would have no issues with your gesture, even allowed a soft smile to grace her features. the two of you were known to play your little games and would see this as a simple, easy thing on your part. there would be no words but a soft hum of acknowledgement in the back of her throat. columbina would have no concerns when it came to the others, her attention easily balanced between the meeting and your presence. as she listened, she may let her arms loosely rest around you, head resting on your shoulder. once the meeting ended, she'd just tilt her head to nose gently at your shoulder. 'could you not have waited until after the meeting?' she mused, tone light. she wasn't one to make a big deal of anything, being considerably nonchalant about most things, brushing them off. 'next time, let's save the affection for when we're alone, yes?' she wasn't upset or bothered at all, she enjoyed the question affection, but she preferred keeping gentle, intimate moments to be in the privacy of your rooms.
❥ pantalone.
being the master of maintaining appearances, it came as no surprise that panta would remain composed, his expression calm and pleasant. not many things managed to crack his image, even you and your risky gestures. he continued to participate in the meeting with ease, a hand sliding to settle at your lower back, pulling you closer. 'how reckless of you,' he whispered, the brief show of a smirk evident against the shell of your ear, tone amused. he would enjoy the moment, all while keeping up his perfect little facade. there would be an amused glint to his eyes as he approached you after saying his farewell to the others. 'you realize the kind of attention such actions might draw, don't you?' he questioned, his tone giving no indication of being upset or annoyed with you. 'not that i mind, of course.. it certainly keeps things interesting.' panta was aways aware of appearances and his surroundings, as well as those around him. he would never openly express displeasure with your affection to him, but he'd make sure you understood. 'just be careful, my love.. not everyone will be as forgiving.'
❥ il capitano.
words are not something capitano needs to use often, his imposing presence often speaking for him. even with a mask on, his expression wouldn't change as you silently settled onto his lap - he also knew no one else would make the mistake of saying something to him about it. he wouldn't push you away or show signs of disapproval, he would actually rest a hand on your side, adjusting to accommodate you. he isn't one for grand gestures or openly displaying affection and his hold on you simply sat as a protective claim, however, him allowing you to keep your place during such a time would speak volumes of the trust he shares with you. he would continue as if you'd always been there, his grip on you tightening and loosening upon the subject shifts of the meeting. you didn't bother to move when the meeting ended, knowing he wouldn't let you slip away so easily. once everyone was gone, he spoke, tone low and calm. 'what was all this for?' he asked, though no annoyance or accusation to his words. he was genuinely asking. you knew a head shake wasn't exactly an answer but he accepted it, watching you closely. 'just be mindful of the setting next time,' he commented, this time soft yet firm, letting you knew the actions weren't unwanted but the timing wasn't proper. he was considerably reserved in nature but he appreciated your little moments of affection.
the captain is not one for frivolous sentimentality. he is a battle-hardened soldier, one of the strongest warriors in the tsaritsa’s army, a force to be reckoned with. he is a busy man, and he does not have the time for attachment and affection.
still, he finds himself participating in this ridiculous ritual almost every time he is about to travel with his troops.
his knee pads dig into his skin, though he pays it no mind. you cannot see it, but his eyes follow your every movement, from the anxious wringing of your hands to the way you worry your bottom lip with your teeth. he wants to smoothen the furrow in your brows, but his gloves are rough and hard; the leather would likely only chafe against your skin.
kneeling like this, on the mahogany wood of your bedroom floor, you are a head taller than him. the captain wishes he could lift the visor of his helmet—take off his breastplate and heavy cloak and boots, too—but he is still a soldier, and his duty to his fallen comrades comes first.
but there is no harm in this: the tender way you look at him when you finally cease worrying enough to place both your hands on either side of his face. the metal must be cold against your fingers, but your smile is warm. the captain will cherish it. he will keep it close and gaurded in his cavernous hole of a heart, and when he feels cold and burdened though the weather may be hot, he will close his eyes let the image spark fire within him, warming him up from the inside.
“must you travel every single month?” you murmur, rubbing circles over the metal where his skin should be.
“it’s my duty,” the captain answers faithfully. “i must fulfill it.”
“well, yes, i know that,” you say. “but i think you deserve more rest in between all these expeditions of yours.”
“are you sure this is not just a ploy to get me to stay with you for longer?”
your answering laugh makes him smile, though you cannot see it.
“you’ve caught me,” you say cheekily. “and here i thought i’d gotten better at being more subtle.”
“subtlety has never been one of your stronger suits. i’m used to it.”
“i’m sure by the time you get back i’ll have learned a trick or two.”
“i look forward to it,” the captain says.
your eyes twinkle, and though you are most certainly saddened by his upcoming departure, the captain respects your determination to hide it from him. you don’t sound the least bit anxious, despite all your fretting earlier. you lean forward and gently press your lips to the top of his helmet. the captain’s eyes close, almost unconsciously. he imagines what it would feel like if your lips were pressed against his forehead instead, a delicate token left branded on his skin instead of metal.
“come back home safely, thrain,” you whisper.
for you, he will.
capitano x a forehead kiss with his helmet still on for @chocalycake. send in a request here!
Night Time Routines
How the harbingers and their darlings ready for bed
Yan! Harbingers x reader (separate)
Feat: Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone and Scaramouche
Word Count: 3.4K
A/N: “honk shoooo honk shoooo” - capitano, “zzzzz zzzz” - Pantalone, “honk mi mi mi” - Scaramouche, dottore’s doesn’t snore but he does speak in fluent sentences in his sleep and it’s terrifying. thank you for coming to my ted talk. also yes i made scaras pretty purple eyes light up like ei’s when she’s using her skill, the more raiden parallels the better in my opinion
Warnings: 5.3 archon quest spoilers, Yandere behaviours, i have likely not proof read this as well as i should have so i apologise for any mistakes, dark themes, some mentions of NSFW themes but no actual smut, being robbed of making choices, they all have serious control issues
Capitano:
Capitano has struggled with sleep for centuries now, he hopes you take no offence when he doesn’t join you at night however he would never wish to make you feel neglected. The primary reason he stole you away was to could ensure that you are treated with the dignity and adoration that befits someone of your character.
If your hair is long enough then he takes great care in braiding it every night. You’re surprised that a man of his stature is able to manoeuvre his fingers so nimbly through your hair. If braids aren’t your style or they simply wouldn’t work with your hair then he patiently awaits your instruction. Whether you want a bun, a ponytail or simply for your hair to flow freely he will diligently do as you command.
Although some aspects of your night routine may resemble that of Pantalone’s darling, Capitano doesn’t force you to abide by any particular routines. As long as you get enough rest he doesn’t mind if you spend every evening huddled in the library, just please allow him to sit with you as you read, nothing would bring him greater pleasure.
Despite the first harbinger being unable to sleep due to the constant burden of the tormented souls upon him, he does find comfort in the domesticity partaking in your nightly routines affords him. Watching your eyes flutter shut, hearing the words that slip out of your mouth leaving him to guess what you could possibly be dreaming about, watching over you when you are at your most defenceless.
He finds it utterly endearing to see you in this state. His heart feels much lighter the first night you fall asleep in his presence. He understands you may hold some resentment towards him for stealing you away from your home and the life you knew yet he is able to find hope in the vulnerability your behaviour shows. Being in your most docile and helpless form around him must surely mean you hold some form of trust for him. Trust is something he can work with, he’s certain now that he can cultivate this small piece of trust that you’ve extended to him from a sapling into a flourishing bloom and in time, perhaps you’ll forgive him for the selfish decision he made. He was utterly mindless and inconsiderate when he took you with him, against your will. Every day he lives with the shame of stealing you and yet... watching over you as you lay in his sheets, he cannot bring himself to regret it.
He shuts his eyes and listens to the rhythm of your breaths, a symphony that brings him nothing but relief. The knowledge that you were resting peacefully by his side invigorates him far more than slumber ever could.
After some time passes and he truly believes you are warming up to him in spite of everything, he might slip into your bed (with your permission of course). He’s unsure what to do at first, so overwhelmed with your closeness and warmth but as you begin to drift into a dreamscape, he allows his hands to wander slightly (but never anywhere inappropriate, despite how desperately he might crave your body he would never force you to do anything that might dishonour you). The body heat that emanates from you brings him immeasurable comfort as he forgets about the pain of the abyssal rot ravaging his body, instead focusing on the softness of your skin on his.
To feel you against him, your body tucked against his, it brings comfort that settles deep in his bones, not even the heavenly principles nor the curse that eats away at his flesh could strip it from him. For the first time in 500 years he remembers what its like to have a home.
Dottore:
You have the misfortune of having spent more time alone with Dottore than anyone else in Teyvat. In spite of his near constant presence, you had never once see him or any of his clones go to sleep. Once every few months you’ll catch him with his eyes shut and hunched over his desk, you assume he has finally drifted off but then mere seconds later his eyes will shoot open and his hands resume tinkering with whatever (or whoever) has had the misfortune of piquing his interest.
Prior to eliminating his clones he often used them as lab assistants, citing that the only person who he could trust to fulfil his work to the measure of perfection he demanded was himself. As the sun began to set whichever of his clones had the least to do would be charged with escorting you from his laboratory in the cellars of Zapolyarny palace to your shared estate. Much to Dottore’s annoyance, he swears that as the moon begins to rise, the segments begins to rush to finish their tasks in hopes of being the one to escort you home.
From early morning to night time you are forced to remain wherever Dottore is however he understands you are only human (for the time being, however he has plans to change that) and you require rest so he allows you to go home and sleep with the caveat that a segment remains by your side as he repeats a similar sentiment as he did earlier, that being the only man he would ever trust with your safety is himself.
Upon prime having to destroy the clones he is visibly on edge despite his dismissals when you try to enquire about it. It’s evident to you that without having the security of his segments watching over you he is tense. He now forbids you from going home, even with a platoon of Fatui guarding you, he has made far too many enemies to count over the years, he isn’t foolish enough to entrust your safety to some lackeys that even the eleventh could carve through with ease.
Much to your dismay he also states that he cannot take so much time away from his experiments to tend to your slumber and that from now on you will be sleeping in the laboratory.
It doesn’t take much exertion for his brilliant mind for him to deduce that you are not thrilled at this development.
After a few days of complaining he finally cracks. You seem to find a fault with every aspect of his laboratory.
”I’m uncomfortable”
”My back hurts”
”It’s too loud”
”It’s too bright”
”It’s too hot”
“It’s too cold”
”This pillow is lumpy”
”I can feel you staring at me”
It drives him mad. His next experiment will be on your voice, he has to test his hypothesis that there is something particular about your voice, perhaps it’s the tone or the pitch but whenever you speak he can’t help but grant you his full attention.
He prides himself on his resilience but for you he has always been quick to crack. Seeing you in such a bad mood puts him in a bad mood. Suddenly his patience has been shortened exponentially, the screams of his patients grind on his nerves far too quickly, leading to many experiments being cut short.
The following morning you will see two anemo skirmishers setting down a large object covered in a dust sheet in the far corner of the laboratory. You raise your question to Dottore, asking what it is. Only then does he set down his tools, a tiny smirk blooms across his face as he takes your hand in his and leads you across the room before lifting the sheet off the object and looking at you expectantly.
It was a single bed with plain white sheets and a single pillow. It was hardly exuberant but for Dottore to even show any form of regard for the discomfort of any living being was nothing short of a miracle.
If you ask him what prompted this his voice will grow venomous as he bites out that your endless complaints were a hindrance to his experiments but you see the self-satisfied sneer on his face as he soaks in your gratitude.
Admittedly you do still have to endure the screams of those unfortunate enough to end up strapped to the operating table as he refuses to allow you any form of noise cancellation lest he needs you for something (he never has but you’re sure he just doesn’t want to give you any avenues for ignoring him), at least you can keep your head staunchly under your pillow for whatever small form of muting the cries that it's able to provide.
Pantalone:
In spite of your resentment for Pantalone you could not deny the morbid interest you had in watching him go about his day. As an outsider you couldn’t shrug the pervasive feeling that had settled in your mind that his whole day seemed to be more of an elaborate routine rather than a man naturally progressing through the day.
Every paper, painting and plate had a specific place in his life and that was how Pantalone preferred it. One night at dinner you had made note of it and he had let out a rare chuckle as he gazed at you from across the grand mahogany dinner table. He put down his utensils before taking a moment to stare down at his hands, twisting the rings back into place so that the gemstones on them rested perfectly on his fingers, glimmering just right in the light before he acknowledged that perhaps some people might agree that he can be a little particular.
From the moment he had taken you into his home, he made sure that you too fit into his routine as flawlessly as everything else. He had expectations that you would meet if you knew what was good for you. Throughout the day his routine never once relaxed and as such, neither did yours. From the moment dinner ends he has you on a schedule that he had devoted hours to ensure it would allow you to fit into his schedule as perfectly as he wants you to. Like a ballerina wound up in a jewellery box, you would pirouette seamlessly to whichever melody he desired and you only move when he winds your cogs, never before.
Once you rise from the dinner table and he returns to his study, you are taken directly to your shared chambers with Pantalone by your ladies maids. In the porcelain tub within the en-suite sits a pool of hot water, still steaming with heat. Standing there awkwardly with only a silk robe wrapped around you as maids flutter in and out of the room. You stay rocking on the balls of your feet until at last the head maid returns, with her she carries a silver tray upon which rests several different bottles of fragrant oils and soaps to add to your bath.
Perhaps if you had been a little less perceptive you would believe this to be one of the areas in your life in which he allows some leniency but that is not the case. You are certain beyond all measure that each and every scent has gotten his approval before being presented to you. Maybe you should be thankful for this small illusion of choice but it only makes the reality of you situation sting in your tear ducts.
As you smell each one the head maid takes great enthusiasm in telling you the elaborate backstory for each and every bottle. Although its her voice speaking, you can hear his words.
The violet grass scent that had been acquired from the very highest point of Liyue’s immense mountain scape lending to it’s powdery floral notes being far more potent that before.
The sakura bloom oil had been extracted from a handful of petals that had been struck by the Shogun’s own divine lightning lending to it’s typical sweet smell having a bright undertone. You couldn’t stand that oil, you swore every time you applied it, it tingled.
The glaze Lilly that this oil had been diffused from had allegedly only bloomed when an adeptus descended from her abode in Jueyun Karst to serenade the flower and coaxing it into opening its petals. Supposedly its scent was so delicate and intoxicating that everyone who smelt it wept tears of joy. You didn’t think it smelt much different than any other glaze Lilly.
After a dozen more being presented to you, each with its own elaborate origins you simply grabbed the bottle closest to you on the tray, not caring which. They all smelt far too similar to care.
Since the day you were taken he had insisted that there was no price too high for his beloved. Perhaps he thinks you find his gifts romantic, instead you can’t help but laugh bitterly at the irony of your bathing products being better travelled than you are.
After nearly an hour of several maids scrubbing you from head to toe (when you had originally arrived you had refused their help however once Pantalone caught wind of this he had punished the maids for it. You had pleaded with him that it was your own fault for refusing their help and to please not punish them for your actions. He smiled gently, thanking you for your honesty before pressing a gently kiss to your forehead yet he said nothing about pardoning the maids, dismissing you at every mention of it. You had an entirely different group of maids tending to you the following morning and every subsequent morning after that).
After leaving the bath and drying off, you were dressed in a night gown. They were undoubtedly the worst part of the night, although they were beautiful they were also covered in itchy lace with necklines too deep and hems too short for the Snezhnayan winter.
After being dressed you would sit down at your vanity and methodically brush your hair with the gifts he had gotten you from Mondstadt: a boar bristle brush with a silver handle (he claimed the bristles were from a mighty bore sovereign native to Dragonspine) and a Dragon bone comb (he also had this made in Dragonspine, the bone acquired from the skeleton of Durin, the comb was a sturdy bone that no matter what always stayed warm).
Finally you would lie in bed and wait for your husband. If he decides to join you then you can slip gently into your dreams, the one place where you can forget about the heavy arm latched around your waist and the fingers tangled in your hair. On more unfortunate nights, he would not join you in your shared chambers, instead he would expect you to come to him. Shuffling sleepily through dark corridors until you finally reached the tall doors of his study. Your knuckle barely grazes the wood before the door swings open and he offers you a gentle smile before wrapping his arm around your waist and coaxing you in.
If you were lucky a few well-placed tender kisses to his neck would persuade him to abandon his work and join you in bed however some nights he would have you sat on his lap until the sun rose. Those nights you rarely slept well as you had to deal with his mutterings, the candle light illuminating the room and the way he adjusted you on his lap. If you were lucky you could shut your eyes and feign sleep when you felt something hard growing beneath you, other nights he was insistent on your participation.
Scaramouche:
Throughout the countless waking hours you’ve spent in unwilling solitude with the sixth harbinger you were hardly surprised at the revelation that his sour attitude persists far past the sunset and well into the moonlit hours. If anything his annoyance only grew the closer you crept to retiring for the night.
Having no knowledge of his marionette body’s ability to endure without sleep, you couldn’t disguise your discomfort the first night you shared his bed and his lilac eyes stayed glued to you all night, their vibrant hue glowing in the dark of your chambers. You could see the dim purple light in the room, even through your eyelids. His illuminated eyes wouldn’t move from your face as you rested. It doesn’t matter how often you late in the night you might wake up or how often you squint through your half-closed eyes at him, Scaramouche’s gaze stays fixed intently on you from the moment you pull the blankets over your shoulders.
Should you somehow develop a fondness for your captor you will quickly learn that in spite of his feelings for you, he is not an attentive or affectionate man. Scaramouche scoffs at the proposal of ‘cuddling’. He spits out that he will not entertain such pathetic displays of fondness, not even for you. The firm tenor in his voice makes you believe that there is no room for negotiation on the matter, however from that night onwards, his hand remains fixed tightly around your wrist the moment you retire under the covers with him.
One particularly irritating trait about Scaramouche is his insistence that you never turn away from him, many times your awoken by a set of firm hands clamped down on your shoulders as they turn you around in the bed, back to facing him. While you are both waking and sleeping he refuses to allow you to turn your back to him, you’re unsure as to why and frankly you’re not certain you wish to know. There are aspects of your captor's past that you're undoubtedly influence his current actions yet you do not wish to learn such things, not yet.
On exceptionally rare occasions, oftentimes after an intimate night of gently unwinding with him, removing his clothing with all the attentiveness he has expected to be synonymous with being the wife of the sixth harbinger. Brush your lips gently over his skin with a tenderness in your touch he hasn’t felt since… he can’t recall. After several hours in each others passionate embrace, Scaramouche may fall into a restless slumber. You may initially find this rare period of sleep from him to be enjoyable however it opens the gateway to a version of Scaramouche you may find yourself unfamiliar with.
The first night Scaramouche falls asleep in your presence, you soon understand his disdain for sleep. The whimpers and cries that escape the balladeer are completely uncharacteristic for him. You had never heard his voice assume any tone beyond a haughty drawl or an intimidating bark, you almost didn’t recognise it was Scaramouche speaking until a familiar word escaped his throat.
”Y/N...”
It was undoubtedly the balladeer speaking however his voice had been fragile and light as he spoke your name, as though saying it too harshly would cause it to shatter.
”Y/N… come back, please…”
“please...” he had whispered out and the word sounded almost foreign on his tongue. Until now you had assumed the word didn’t even exist in the harbingers vocabulary. His sleep only seemed to worsen. You sat up, unsure whether you should wake him or not. His gentle murmurs were slowly growing louder and more desperate. You watched as his sleeping form writhed across the bed, his arms fully extended as his fingers clenched and unclenched, grasping and pawing at the bedsheets.
You slowly nudged yourself closer to him, preparing to wake him from whatever nightmares was plaguing him until his hand brushed against your night clothes. Suddenly his fist clenched tightly around your waist as he yanked your body impossibly closer, curling around you.
The following morning he untangled his limbs from yours before quickly scurrying out of the room. His gaze never met yours but from the chaste kiss and the way his eyes refused to look up from the ground… you swore he almost seemed embarrassed, his demeanour suiting that of a pouting child rather than an agent of destruction.
As you opened the bedroom doors not long after his departure, the stench of sizzled flesh wafted through the corridors. Some poor Fatuus were now paying the price in blood for Scaramouche’s humiliation as they were demoted from subordinates to the punching bags for him to unleash his rage on. The part of himself that he had buried so deeply, shrouded in layer and layer of bitterness and rage, had exposed itself to your discerning gaze and his mortification was suffocating him.
If he were a weaker man perhaps the humiliation would have brought tears to his eyes but he was stronger than the mewling little wretch he used to be. Like forging a sword, he had beaten the impurities out one by one in the heat of his own hatred and the boiling of his blood until only the perfect blade remained. cold. lethal. merciless. He is no quivering weakling that can simply be thrown away. Not anymore. Never again. In spite of his pathetic display last night he would make certain you and everyone else remembers it.
Headcanon: The Harbingers With an Naive S/O
Pierro
As the leader of the Harbingers, Pierro takes his role seriously, and when he realizes how naive you are, his protective instincts kick in. He often shields you from the darker side of Fatui affairs, keeping you in the dark about the more ruthless aspects of their operations. He wants to preserve your innocence as much as possible, which is a rare sentiment from someone as cold and calculated as Pierro.
While Pierro is usually stern and emotionless, your purity softens him. He finds solace in your presence and enjoys your simple outlook on life. It reminds him of a time before he became the harbinger of destruction and chaos.
Pierro knows that you're easy to mislead, so he's always careful with his words. He makes sure to explain things in a way that won’t overwhelm you, but also so you don’t ask too many dangerous questions. You remain blissfully unaware of just how much blood is on his hands, and Pierro likes it that way.
Pierro would never admit it, but he goes out of his way to ensure you’re kept far from harm, even if you’re unaware of it. He’s constantly working behind the scenes to remove threats before they even come close to you. His protectiveness is subtle, often disguised as him merely sending you off on errands or encouraging you to remain in safer areas.
Your innocence reminds Pierro of a time long ago when he might have been less cynical, less ruthless. Though he’s a deeply strategic man, your presence softens his edges, even if only in private moments. Your belief in the good of the world makes him occasionally question if he could have chosen a different path.
Capitano
Capitano, a figure known for his strength and valor, finds your innocence strangely calming. His life is filled with battle and bloodshed, so your pure and untainted perspective offers him a rare moment of tranquility. When he’s with you, he can leave behind his role as a warrior and simply enjoy a more peaceful existence.
Capitano doesn’t need to say much to keep you safe. His mere presence is enough to intimidate anyone who might seek to harm or take advantage of you. He’s always watching over you, even when you think you’re alone. You might not understand why people give you a wide berth when Capitano is around, but that’s exactly how he prefers it.
Despite his intimidating appearance and harsh exterior, Capitano is surprisingly gentle with you. He’ll place a hand on your shoulder or give you a small nod of approval, small gestures that show he cares without overwhelming you. He knows you’re fragile in comparison to the life he leads, so he treats you like something precious and irreplaceable.
Capitano sees you as something pure that he must protect at all costs. Though he’s known for his unwavering dedication to his duties, your presence gives him a deeper sense of purpose. He fights not just for the Fatui but to create a world where someone like you can remain safe and untouched by cruelty.
Anyone who dares try to manipulate or harm you faces Capitano’s full wrath. He is known for his brutal efficiency in battle, but when it comes to you, that intensity amplifies tenfold. He won’t let anyone or anything threaten your safety or corrupt your innocence. You’re like a rare treasure in his life, one he will guard until his last breath.
Dottore
Dottore is utterly fascinated by your innocence, finding it almost incomprehensible. He often prods you with curious questions, eager to see how your mind works compared to his twisted genius. To him, you’re an anomaly—someone who hasn’t yet been tainted by the world.
Though Dottore cares for you in his own twisted way, he can’t help but toy with your naivety. He might tell you wild, untrue stories just to see your reactions, reveling in how easily you believe him. Despite this, he’s careful not to push you too far; he enjoys having you around too much to truly break your spirit.
While Dottore is amused by your innocence, he’s also fiercely possessive. He doesn’t want anyone else corrupting you, so he’ll make sure you’re always by his side or at least under his watchful eye. If another Harbinger tries to take advantage of your naivety, Dottore’s wrath is swift and brutal.
Dottore, being a man of science and curiosity, is constantly intrigued by your innocence. He wonders how someone like you could exist in such a ruthless world, and sometimes he treats your naivety like an experiment—observing how you react to various stimuli and situations. Though his fascination might be clinical, there’s an underlying protectiveness as well.
Despite his twisted nature, Dottore secretly cares about you. He might create devices or gadgets designed to keep you safe or unaware of the more gruesome aspects of his work. You might think his inventions are just fun toys or tools to make your life easier, but in reality, they’re carefully crafted to protect you from the darker side of his experiments.
Scaramouche
Scaramouche is initially confused by your innocence. Part of him finds it frustrating—he’s used to manipulation and cruelty, so your pure-hearted nature baffles him. However, over time, he begins to appreciate it. You represent something he can never have: a sense of untainted goodness.
Scaramouche, who is typically sharp-tongued and cynical, finds your naivety both amusing and endearing. He’s quick to mock you playfully, throwing sarcastic remarks your way when you fail to notice something obvious or overlook the harshness of reality. Yet, despite his teasing, he never crosses a line. There’s a strange softness in the way he treats you compared to others, even if he tries to hide it.
Despite his cruel nature, Scaramouche becomes fiercely protective of your innocence. He views it as something precious—something no one has the right to taint. While he may mock your naivety, he won’t let anyone else take advantage of it. If someone attempts to manipulate or hurt you, Scaramouche’s wrath is quick and brutal, leaving no doubt that you are under his protection.
Your innocence frustrates Scaramouche at times because it represents everything he’s lost—trust, hope, and belief in others. Yet, that same purity draws him in, creating a tension within himself. He doesn’t want you to lose your naive worldview, but at the same time, he’s terrified that one day, the cruel world will break you as it did him.
Scaramouche isn’t someone who shows open affection, especially not in front of others. However, when you’re alone, he’ll allow himself small gestures—a hand placed gently on your head or a brief moment where he’ll sit close to you in silence. It’s his way of saying that he cares, even if he’ll never say it outright.
Pantalone
Pantalone adores your naive nature, finding it endearing in a world where everyone else is driven by greed and ambition. He uses his vast wealth to spoil you, gifting you extravagant things just to see the look of pure joy on your face. He never lets you worry about the cost or where the money comes from—it’s all part of his plan to keep you blissfully unaware.
While Pantalone manipulates nearly everyone around him, he goes out of his way to shield you from the corruption that runs deep in the Fatui. He sees you as something too delicate for the brutal world he operates in and prefers to keep you in a bubble of luxury and comfort, far from the cutthroat politics of the Harbingers.
Pantalone ensures that no harm comes to you by leveraging his financial influence. If anyone dares to target you or tries to take advantage of your innocence, they quickly find themselves on the wrong side of his wealth and power. He’ll ruin them financially and ensure that their downfall is swift and complete.
Pantalone is a master manipulator, but when it comes to you, he keeps his darker dealings carefully hidden. He never wants you to see the ruthless side of his business, believing you’re better off living in blissful ignorance. He’ll go to great lengths to ensure you remain unaware of the moral gray areas he operates in.
Pantalone takes great joy in watching you light up when he surprises you with something extravagant, whether it’s a beautiful piece of jewelry or a rare collectible. He views your happiness as a reflection of his success, and he goes out of his way to provide for you in every possible way. Your innocent joy is one of the few things that can genuinely warm his cold heart.
Childe
Childe finds your naivety absolutely adorable. He loves to tease you, often making exaggerated claims or telling you about his exploits in a way that makes you blush or gasp in surprise. However, underneath all that playfulness, Childe is fiercely protective of you. He won’t let anyone else toy with your innocence.
Childe thrives on showing off in front of you, especially when he knows you’re easily impressed. Whether it’s through his combat prowess or his adventurous stories, he loves the way your eyes widen in awe. Your naive admiration boosts his ego, and he’s more than happy to be your hero.
Despite his love for battle, Childe would never want to expose you to the darker aspects of his life. He’ll always keep you far from the frontlines, ensuring you only see the more exciting, less dangerous parts of his adventures. In his eyes, you’re someone worth protecting at all costs, and he won’t let anything or anyone change that.
Childe finds it endlessly amusing when you ask innocent, naive questions about his work or the Fatui’s operations. He’ll often give you simplified answers, sometimes throwing in a bit of embellishment to make himself seem even more impressive. Your wide-eyed belief in his stories makes him feel like the most important person in the world.
While Childe’s real work is far too dangerous for you, he often takes you on smaller, safer "adventures." These outings are carefully curated so you never see the true violence of his life, but they’re thrilling enough to keep you entertained. Whether it’s exploring a quiet forest or pretending to train with him, Childe enjoys showing off his skills in a way that keeps you feeling safe and awed by him.
.
.
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Masterlist
ੈ✩‧₊˚ MEMORIES OF THIS LIFE - Il Capitano
.ೃ࿐𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : ̗̀➛ 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈
༉‧₊˚.summary → Thrain's love for you is pure and filled with a depth he cannot explain. Simply bask in his love before he has to go off to work, or so it seems he would be. The truth is far more devastating.
༉‧₊˚.pairing → Il Capitano x fem! reader
༉‧₊˚.status → married
༉‧₊˚.situation → angst, deep aching love, sex, creampie, romantic, tender, wholesome, longing, fingering, Thrain is utterly besotted with you
a/n: not edited, might contain some spelling mistakes etc. But I absolutely love Il Capitano and decided to finally write something for this beautiful man. I hope you enjoy it! Reblogs and likes would also mean the world to me!
3.5k words
The cries and sobs of the souls that parted from his heart could be heard echoing in his ears as he leaned back against the stone of the old throne. His thoughts, though were quieting, were whispering a name he hasn't spoken in centuries. A name he feared could break him should he try to remember. But her face...your face, was nothing but a distortion lost through time, leaving an ache that never dulled to only grow through his entire being.
You.
Though he could never be granted the full satisfaction of death, this was enough. This was enough to hopefully reach you, to hopefully remember your smile. To hopefully feel the warmth of your living fingers against his cheeks and your lips against his forehead. To live in the memories of you, of home, was enough for him. He just wants to be that man again, a soldier, not even a commander yet. But a soldier who married the woman of his heart, who slept beside her and woke up tangled together every morning. To allow the dreams of children flood through both of you as laughs and warmth spread through both your entire beings.
To feel your love manifesting throughout his body.
His breathing deepened upon the throne, the blue of his eyes obscured through the blackened must shrouding his corrupted features. His fingers stilled upon the hilt of Antumbra, the ice of his blade frozen and misting yet neither melted or moved. Even though the mask hid his once love-filled face, it was easy to tell his eyes were closed and a blissful look gracing his disfigured face.
Comfort, was all one could see, unbeknownst to the tears that slid down the grime of his face, unbeknownst to how he called out your name in this new dream of his.
'Y/n'.
Blackness was all he could see, the armour he wore was not his usual one he has grown to know over the centuries working for the Tsarista. No, this was his armour he used to wear as a soldier before he ascended to the role of Commander. And his breath could only hitch as a pale, glowing figure stood in the distance of his blackened world.
His lips parted, his hands falling limp beside him as tears spilled down his beautiful, blue hues, "Y/n....? Is it you?" His voice cracked, disbelief in his eyes as he tried to squint them to see the woman of his heart.
"Thrain..."
That was all he needed to get his legs working, his body running to your own, blurred one. Desperation, longing and love filling his entire being as he ran to you. And when your features became as clear as the morning sun, his arms enveloped you. Sobs wracked his entire frame, arms lifting you up and spinning you around as his nose buried itself into your locks, "I missed you, I missed you so much. I missed you." Tears fell, streaming down his pale, beautiful face as clawed gauntlets dug into your attire, holding you close as your own hands slipped into his dark locks. "I love you, I love you, I never stopped loving you, Y/n, please believe that", his shoulders trembled while he lowered you to your feet, hands coming to cup your cheeks. His eyes desperately glanced over your features, his breath slipping from his parted lips.
In a flash, his gauntlets were removed, the warmth of his palms tracing your face, fingertips sliding down the ridge of your nose, your lips, your cheeks. "How could I have ever forgotten your face?", relief flooded him as he felt your own tears upon his skin. "Your memory of me may have faded, but heart always remembered", you whispered as your hands moved to his wrists. Your thumbs stroked along his pulse, feeling the rapid beating of his heart as he lowered his head to rest his forehead against his own. The blackness around him forgotten from the overwhelming love he has for you.
"Thrain, let's go home", you whispered, your nose nudging against his own as your hands perched themselves upon his salt-stained skin. He nodded, afraid that if he closed his eyes, he'd lose you again, "Yes. Let's go home, together." Memories blurred, and light poured in through the darkness before he felt warmth flood through him, leaving only the past to welcome him again.
Memories of the present, fell forgotten. He was lost in the memories of you. Of home.
Orange rays streaked across the awakening sky, twinkling stars slowly faded by the grace of light as the songs of birds echoed through the slow, awakening nation. The ruffling of sheets could be heard while eyelids slowly parted to reveal the deep hues that glimmered through the disappearing darkness. Thrain's lips parted before he turned his gaze to you. You who was sleeping unaware of anything around you. You who was deeply buried within the duvet and lips parted with the sound of sleep escaping you. And you...his wife and heart. His soul and love.
An exhale left through his nose, his dark locks spilled around his head before he moved and pressed his lips against your forehead. He breathed you in, allowing the scent of you to fill his senses as his hand moved to slide into your hair. His fingers slide through your strands, admiring the way they tangled around his touch. His feartures could only soften and a smile to spread across his face despite knowing he'll have to leave the warmth of your home for his duties. His goal is to be the commander, it was his dream besides you.
For now though, he was just a soldier doing rounds, ensuring everyone was safe and sound. But deep down, he knows he can do better. Deep down he knows he can strive to be the best he can be. And that position would grant him that status, and also a way to better protect you - and any future children you shall grace him with.
He felt you stir against him. Your hands moving to wrap around his neck as a lazy, half-asleep smiled spread across your face, "Morning." He pressed his nose against your own, softly smiling at how adorable you looked, how unaware of your surroundings you looked. It was sweet. "Morning, my love", his deep voice vibrated in his chest as his finger moved from your hair to trace patterns upon your cheek, "You should go back to sleep. It's still early."
You hummed in response before gazing into his eyes, shaking your head, "If you're awake, then I'm awake." He cocked a brow, a chuckle escaping him despite himself, "And we both know you'll only end up fast asleep again in three minutes." "No, that's not true", you challenged, still awakening from the sleep you had, "why would I when I have you in my arms?" Thrain could not help but cock a brow at your words, his hand moving from your cheek to your hips, "Oh? Do tell me more, my love."
He hummed in thought before slowly sliding his nose from your own, sliding it across your cheek until it eventually found perch in the crook of your neck. Both his arms enveloped you, your nightie hugging your curves as his hands fisted into the material, pulling you impossibly closer. You couldn't help but feel giddy, biting your lip and closing your eyes at the sensation of his lips pressing a gentle kiss upon your pulse. "Mhm, my handsome knight", you sighed in bliss. "I'm not a knight yet", he murmured against your skin, pulling you flush against him as his hand moved to grasp your thigh, pulling it over his hip. "You'll always be my knight, my hero", you whispered, your own hands pressing themselves against his bare chest, splaying your fingers upon the heat of his skin.
He couldn't help but chuckle into your neck, shaking his head in amusement. He kissed your pulse one last time before moving his head back to allow his eyes to stare into your own, "Does that mean you'll help me strap on my armour this morning? It's befitting for a Knight's wife after all." "That thing has far too many straps for me", your hands moved to his neck. Your thumbs brushed along his skin, grasping onto his nape as you couldn't help but sight at the soft look he gave you, "...maybe." You surrendered to the loving gaze across his face. He merely hummed in response, his eyes memorising your features, lost in the overwhelming love he has for you. "I love you", his words, though now gentle, held the weight of his entire heart. His longing and soul. You smiled, your eyes having that glimmer in them that made his heart swell in emotion, that glimmer that truly shone whenever he spoke those three words. It humbled him, warmed him and melted him into a puddle of nothing but an aching love.
You couldn't help but bite your lip from the intensity of his emotions, your cheeks flushing as he moved himself between your legs. A sound of giddiness escaping you, "And I love you..." He hummed in delight, both his hands grasping your thighs and spreading them open to accomodate him. He pressed a small, little kiss on your nose, "That means more to me than you could never know." But just as you were about to respond, his lips captured your own.
You instantly melted when his warmth seeped through your nightie, a gasp escaping you as you felt his tongue slide across the seam of your lips, quietly begging for entery. To which you gladly granted. And his tongue instantly met your own. His right hand slid under your knee, hooking it under his fingers as his other slipped under your nightie and moving until his fingertips skimmed over your ribs and under your left breast. "I've got to get ready soon, my heart", he murmured against your lips. His left hand gently massaged your breast, his thumb skimming over your nipple in a tender manner. "I know you, honey", you whispered back, only to capture his lips again in a sweet kiss.
He melted into it, his tongue sensually brushing against your own as his forefinger and thumb pinched at your nipple. A soft sound escaped your lips from the pleasure, and he swallowed every bit of it. Your hands slid into his hair, digging into the dark locks with a need that bordered on desperation. "Just a few more minutes, please?", you begged between kisses, tugging his strands of hair. He pulled his lips away, his blue eyes meeting your own as an exhale left his lips. Contemplation swirled within those pupils, a look you've grown to understand. You cheekily bit your lip, your cheeks flushed as you placed your hands against his chest now. Your index finger traced up and down his middle path, "Is that a yes?" His lips twitched, and with another pinch to your nipple, he sighed, "Fine. Just a few more minutes." Amusement flickered in his gaze before he captured that cheeky smile of yours with his mouth. A groan rumbled from his chest as his right hand tightened its hold beneath your knee. You could feel a bulge growing against his briefs despite trying to use all his willpower to not let himself be swayed by your warmth, your touch and love. But he could never resist.
Not that he would truly want to.
But he has to time this properly if he doesn't want to be late for his morning patrol around the streets. If he wants to be commander, he'll have to work his way up, and he will not miss a day - not even for being sick.
His mouth attached itself to your neck, kissing and sucking as gently as he could while his left hand removed itself from your tit, only to stroke along your side in feathery touches. An exhale left him as he felt you arch into his touch, his hand beneath your knee sliding down to your thigh - only to spread your leg wider and trailer those fingers along your inner thigh. A shiver ran through you, your clit suddenly throbbing and swelling from the pleasure only he could give. God it was dawn and you're already started to grow absolutely wet. "I love you", he kissed at your collarbone, his fingers itching closer to the smoldering heat of your core. Your vulnerability. And it was one he could feast on until you're spent and dripping from his pure love.
He knows he'll have to make it quick, even though he knows how much you dislike it when he rushes. Even when you do not admit it yourself. But even then, even if it's for a little while, you want to feel his love manifest into the action of love making. And he'll grant it to you every time, even if it's in a manner of quickness. You may dislike the hurry acts, but at the same time, it makes you giddy and flustered in a way that has your toes curling. And did he make them curl all right.
"Thrain...", your voice cracked when you felt his thumb dip into your folds, gently spreading them with his fingers as his other attached to your nipple again. The dual sensation send tiny sparks to ripple through you. You have a love-hate relationship with how fast he makes you orgasm. And holy was it delicious. A sound escaped you when his thumb pressed against your bundle of nerves, causing your muscles to tense and his other hand to swirl your nipple as his mouth caught your own again. He devoured every bit of moan, every whimper and every choked gasp while his thumb circled your clit in quick, tiny strokes. But your eyes could only roll back when his middle finger and fourth finger slid into your wet heat. Those fingers of his instantly sought out the spot that made you see stars and curled them against that sponge wall. Your body spasmed at the sensation. His cock already staining his underwear as it throbbed in time with your own pulse. Your nightie began to stick to your skin as your body began to produce a little sweat.
Your mouth parted, his fingers sliding in and out but only for them to hit that spot every time and curl them inwards. Your toes bent. His thumb hastened the circular movement on your clit. He loved to swallow that sound you made whenever you shatter. It made him feel closer to you, it made feel with one with you - even without his cock inside you. It made him feel...whole and loved. He never wants that feeling to fade with you. Though, it also brought immense pride to his heart that he could bring you to such a state every time.
And with that, your stomach tightened and your muscles spasmed. Your back arched as a flood of pleasure rippled through your being. His thumb never stopped circling, even after the loud moan you made, even after your muscles slowed their twitch. He wanted to prolonge your orgasm and edge you closer to your next before he would remove his fingers. Even though you were his first, even though he never had experience before you, he sure does now from the years you've been married. And god does it make you even wetter and his penis throb.
"I love you so much", he whispered against your lips, feeling your nails in his back as his hands left you, causing a whimper to leave you. His thumbs hooked themselves on his waistband, pulling off his stained briefs to release his throbbing ache. Precum already was smeared across the pink tip, and he used it to lubricate his shaft. His hand sliding the foreskin up and down, staining it in his pleasure. His eyes met your own, seeking permission. And when you gave it, he cupped your cheek with his left hand and guided his shaft into your wet warmth with his right.
A grunt escaped him. His forehead came to rest up your own as he sunk himself into you balls deep. God he loved making love to you, he loved making you feel good. He loved the way your face morphed and his name fell from your lips with such love and need. Your legs quickly wrapped around his waist, his thrusts deep and quick yet were as gentle as he could be as he knew he had to begin work soon. But hell did he need you. He always did. His hands rested beside your head on the pillow, his eyes closing and concentrating on hitting that spongy spot inside you. It made your legs tremble and struggle to hold onto I'm as your nails raked down his chest.
His right hand moved down to your folds, his thumb attaching to your clit while his other hand moved to pull down the collar of your nightie, dragging it down until your breast was exposed to his gaze. And before you could even blink, his mouth was on your nipple, sucking and twirling the bud around in quick strokes to match his thumb on your clit. It made your mind blank out and for his balls to ache. He would never leave your warmth without making you cum at least twice. Never. That is a rule he would never break. He may be a man of honour and a workaholic, but his love for you is his driving force. His goal being to provide for you.
His balls tightened and his breaths came out in pants, "You're doing so well, my love. I'm close, are you?" He kissed your nipple, his muscles flexing and his pupils dilated to the point where the blue of irises were barley visible. You could hardly speak, drool was down your lips as your body tightened. You have a nod, or tried to. Your hands moved to the sheets, gripping them tightly as the sun's rays had already spread across the sky. And with a cry, you shattered on his cock.
Warmth flooded you as he clenched his jaw. His teeth grinded against one another while his muscles flexed. Thrain's own orgasm exploded deep inside you. A part of him hoped it'll bare fruit to young ones. A family. He could only pray. But for now, he was content with you. He would always be content with just you. "Y/n...", he softly moaned before collapsing beside you, panting as your combined juices dribbled down your pussy. A groan escaped him as he knew he'll have to clean you both up quickly and strap on his armour. But he couldn't help but stare at your fucked out expression, your eyes in a daze as you glanced up at the ceiling. "You're amazing, my heart", he pressed a kiss to your cheek before reluctantly getting up on shaky legs.
But the truth of this reality was...far darker than he could imagine. Than he could remember.
"Thrain, do you have to go?", you panted out, cheeks flushed and your pupils blown wide. He glanced at you from over his shoulder, a small smile on his lips, "You know I have to, I'll be back before you know it, sweetheart. I promise I won't overwork today." You sighed and nodded, that adorable pout on your lips made his knees weaken even further, but he has to stand his ground. For your future and his. A future that shall never bare fruit beyond this moment. For his body remains still upon a throne of stone - save for the deep, hollow breaths that escape him. His eyes closed yet his mind with you. In a past he swore he won't forget.
......But in the end, he'll have to return to the living, he'll have to fulfil his duty once more to a future he has forgotten. A present he has forgotten in the face of your love. In the end he'll have to wake up, and when he does, he'll live through your loss again as though you had just died for the first time. To know you're nothing more than a whisper of a past, a whisper of a life he once knew. To know you're now nothing but a memory that will eventually fade into nothing.
A forgotten face among a thousand of other blurred faces. But even when he forgets, his heart will always long for a love he once felt. The love for someone he no longer knows. A love he questions how he got to know.
This is the true curse of immortality. The poison that spreads as time devours his memories. It will happen, and when it does...Your name will be gone. Forever. And it will never come back.
Unless the tides of fate, changes it course.
But for now, he was content in the reality he perceived as true. The one with your smile and love and his promise of not overworking again. A future of children and smiles, a future one could only call a dream.
Memories of This Life.
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