Archive of Our Own

Adelinde met Rosaria at the top of the stairway of the manor, her normally bland welcoming expression replaced by a furrow of worry.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, Sister Rosaria,” she said in a low voice. “I am sorry it was on such short notice.”

“That’s the nature of emergencies,” Rosaria dismissed. Besides, she would have done quite a lot to get out of the choir concert, including and not limited to fleeing up to Dragonspine and hiding in the hollow of a tree. Receiving a coded message begging for her help, that Master Diluc Ragnvindr was in a bad way, was therefore beneficial to her.

“What’s wrong with Master Diluc, then?” Rosaria continued, seeing that the normally unflappable Adelinde was dithering. “All the letter said was that he had a run-in with some people attempting to extract energy from pyro whopperflowers.”

“Ah, well, the thing is…” The handkerchief in Adelinde’s hands was wrung to nearly to rags. “We, uh, managed to discover—” With great difficulty, Rosaria read in Adelinde’s expression, “—that it was not a whopperflower, it was more of a newly-adult regisvine, and something in the experiments caused it to…”

Irritation rose in Rosaria as Adelinde continued to dither. She was just about to snap, “Get on with it!” when suddenly resolve steeled in Adelinde’s spine and the head housemaid straightened up.

“To be indelicate about things, Sister Rosaria,” Adeline said, very precisely, “the pyro regisvine was genetically modified to produce pollen that would sexually arouse pyro vision-bearers in specific. Master Diluc received an oversized dose of pollen, not knowing how it would affect him. He collected the research materials left at the base and returned home before succumbing to a fever. We called for you, thinking your cryo powers would be able to soothe him. While you were en route, we read the research materials and found out about the sexual component of the experiment.”

Rosaria stared.

“You’re telling me,” she managed through her disbelief, “that Diluc got sex-pollened?” Were they living in a trashy paperback erotica?!

Adelinde met her eyes and said, very evenly, “Yes.”

Rosaria suddenly became aware of her thundering heartbeat.

“Right,” she said, “right. Right, okay.” Her fingers tightened around her polearm. Deliberately, she loosened her grip and said, “Before anything, can I stow this somewhere?”

“Yes, of course,” Adelinde said, clearly relieved to be dealing with something she could actually fix. She took the polearm and put it in a nearby weapon rack.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” Rosaria asked. Goosebumps rose all over her skin, and she was, for once, grateful she was wearing long sleeves.“I don’t have any healing powers.”

Adelinde failed at masking her misery and embarrassment as she said, “We were hoping that your cryo powers would neutralize the overflowing pyro.”

“That’s it? Simply applying cryo to him will do the trick?”

Adelinde nodded. “According to the notes, it does not largely differ from any other elemental reaction. It’s simply the sexual component that makes things difficult.”

“It’s not going to be like the trashy erotica where only penetrative sex will stop the sex pollen’s effects?”

Adelinde blushed. “Not that the research notes speak of.”

A sob echoed through the second floor hallway, and Adelinde flinched.

Oh, Abyss. That was a sex sound.

That was Diluc’s sex sound.

“As far as we can tell,” Adelinde said, persevering admirably through the awkwardness of hearing her employer masturbate, “left alone, the effects of the sex pollen will dissipate within three days. However, arousal and…activities…for that long is a health hazard. The application of cryo will speed up the neutralization process.”

Part of Rosaria was thinking of increased heart rate, sudden cardiac arrest, all the dangers of ceaseless physical activity. You couldn’t make a man run nonstop for three days and not expect any health hazards. The best you could hope for was that the guy would collapse.

Another part of her was doubled over laughing at the absolute fucking insanity of sex pollen.

…That sex sound sounded more tortured than pleased. Rosaria nodded to herself, decisively. “I understand,” she said. “Let me take care of the dirty work.”

Emotions warred on Adelinde’s face. The poor handkerchief was crumpled into a fist, before she finally said, “Sister Rosaria, wait. Master Diluc would never want you to do anything you don’t consent to, anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“That doesn’t really matter, does it? If he’s in this bad of a situation.”

“Of course it matters,” Adelinde said, a little fiercely. “Your consent matters. If it’s too awkward for you, we’ll find another way. If necessary, we will drop him in an ice bath.”

Rosaria snorted. “You haven’t tried that yet?”

Adelinde flushed. “Mundane ice won’t be as effective as true cryo created by a vision holder. And…he locked his door. Though if you hadn’t been able to respond to the emergency, we would have broken it down.”

“Listen,” Rosaria said. The corner of her mouth quirked up, unbidden. That was what she liked about Diluc and the people that surrounded him: they were principled, and more than that, they stuck to their damn principles. Consent mattered, boundaries mattered, basic human dignity mattered. She didn’t doubt for a second that if she’d said no, the staff would have found another way to reverse-melt Diluc.

But she truly didn’t mind, and she tried to convey that to Adelinde.

“It won’t be ‘too awkward’ for me to save his life. Diluc’s had my back a dozen times and more,” she said. “I can help him with my vision, so I will. If I have to fuck him to help him, I will. Sex is just sex.”

Adelinde bit her lip, but the relief spreading across her face was clear. “I will get you some supplies.”

Rosaria considered quipping, “Well, you’re prepared,” but of course she was prepared. She was Adelinde.

Basket of supplies in hand (lubricant, contraceptive tea in bottles, along with water and foodstuff—Adelinde was incredibly prepared), she went up to the room that she knew was Diluc’s. The cedarwood door was shut tight in her face, of course, but she rapped at it anyway.

“Diluc,” she said, pitching her voice louder, “it’s Rosaria. Open the door.”

“Ro-Rosaria?” she heard Diluc say, brokenly. “You’re here? Really here? No! No.” He cleared his throat. “Pardon me, I’m not in a fit state for visitors.”

“Well, I know that,” she said acerbically. “The staff called me to help.”

“They called you to, to h-help?” he said, stuttering in a way that made heat pool deep in Rosaria’s core. “No, no, they, they shouldn’t have, Rosaria you y-you have to lea-a-ave—” And that was definitely a moan. Rosaria gripped the handle of the wicker basket tighter.

“I won’t,” she said. “Now will you open the door or will I break it down? I’m sure there’s an axe around here.”

“I—” His gasp was audible. “I can’t, I can’t stand up.”

Holy shit what was Diluc getting up to behind that door? Never mind, Rosaria knew perfectly well how to deal with locks. She could only hope he hadn’t latched the deadbolt. Otherwise, she would probably have to climb in his window. She pulled out a hairpin, her veil loosening as she did so, and made quick work of the lock. The veil went into a bag shortly after that.

When the door swung open, she nearly dropped the wicker basket in shock.

Diluc was sprawled out on a massive four-poster bed, completely naked, the late afternoon sunlight streaming through his windows and lighting him gold. One hand was between his legs, shoving a surprisingly realistic flesh-toned dildo up his toned ass, while his hips stuttered into a leaking fleshlight.

His red hair was tangled and sweaty on the pillows. Tears stained his face and streamed from tight-shut eyes, and his defined abdominal muscles were positively covered with come and lubricant.

At the sound of the door closing behind her, teary red eyes opened and caught her in a glassy gaze.

“Rosaria,” he said breathily. “Please leave, I don’t, I don’t want you to see me like this.”

As opposed to seeing you bleeding on Mondstadt’s cobblestones? Rosaria thought but didn’t say. The corners of the bedsheets were kicked out of alignment, the dark gray sheets rumpled around Diluc’s glistening, sweaty body. (Were those scorch marks?!) Even as he spoke to her, he continued to pound the dildo into his asshole while also fucking into the fleshlight, the squelching sounds a backdrop to his breathy moans.

“Shh,” she said, crossing the room to sit on Diluc’s bed. He turned to her, seemingly involuntarily, before burying his sex-flushed face into a nearby pillow. “Shh,” she said again. Hastily she peeled off her gloves and tossed them on the floor. Frost condensed on her hands as she crooned, “I’m here, I’m here,” and stroked the line of his fever-hot neck.

“No,” he moaned, “don’t look at me, leave…”

She swallowed. More frost crawled up her hand, and she turned his cheek so that she could look at him.

“I really will leave if you want me to,” she said, more tenderly than she thought she was even fucking capable of. She cupped his cheek in her cool hand, and thumbed some emerging tears away. “But Diluc, Süßer, I’m here to help. I want to help.”

“You do?” he asked. “I don’t, I don’t want to force you into helping me. We can find another way.”

This man. This staff. The entire manor, honestly. Principled, self-sacrificial, unrelentingly good. The best of Mondstadt, the reason she protected it so fiercely. Rosaria infused the air around him with cryo, but the heat of his body melted the frost within seconds.

“I do,” she said. “Let me help you.”

He breathed out, a shuddering exhale that heated Rosaria’s core. But he nodded into her gentle touch.

“What do you want me to do?” she said, and gave into her own base urges to stroke down his pectorals. Chilled fingers circled around peaked nipples, and he arched into her touch with a cry. “Talk to me,” she commanded.

“I don’t know,” Diluc whispered, fucking into himself with the dildo and pumping into the overfull fleshlight. “I’m so messy right now. I don’t want you to, I don’t want you to see me like this, Rosaria. I am truly disgusting at the moment. I can’t even stop fucking myself to hold a conversation with you, ah, ah, oh, I—”

Rosaria slid her hand down his abs and tossed the fleshlight to the floor. Diluc whined as his messy, sticky cock was exposed to the cool air. Then Rosaria fisted his cock in a loose hold, and his hips jumped into her touch.

“It’s okay,” she hummed, voice dipping deep into contralto. “I don’t mind you being incoherent. Just keep talking.”

Diluc thrashed and moaned, but Rosaria put a freezing hand on his red-furred abdomen, and his voice broke off into an “Ah!”

“Talk,” she reminded him, and after a few false starts and several stuttering moans, he did.

“I’ve been at this for hours, Rosaria, I feel so sweaty and disgusting, there’s fluids everywhere. Every time I think it’s over, that I’m finally going to go soft, that I’m finally out of come, there’s just more and more and more and—”

He fucked into Rosaria’s fist, mouth parted and head tipped back. “I can’t think, I can’t think of anything except wanting to come. I’ve never felt this way before, I’ve never been this, this—this out of my mind with lust. Verdammt. I was so stupid. I should have brought backup with me. I was so, so stupid and now I’m paying the price.” Rosaria called more frost to her hand, and moved it up from his abdomen, to his chest and nipples—he let out a pleased breath at that—to his forehead, to the back of his neck, before finally ending on his flushed cheek. He nuzzled into her touch.

“You should have called me,” Rosaria said.

“I should have—ah! Hngh. I should have called you,” Diluc agreed. “I know today is—today is choir concert…I thought about going, but I knew you wouldn’t ah-ah-ah—attend, and what was the point if you’re not there?”

Rosaria repressed a smile.

“I should have, haaah, given you an excuse to get out of it.”

“Technically, you did,” she said, and twisted her wrist in the way that had one of her flings coming all over himself mere moments into sex. Diluc was no different. His thrusting turned erratic, and come shot into the air in a rather remarkable geyser before raining back down on her fingers and his abdomen.

“Sorry,” he whimpered, “sorry, sorry, m—”

“No, it’s fine,” she said blankly, and gentled her touch on his cock. “That’s what I’m here for.” Her hand was sloppy now, sticky with lube and come. When she opened her fingers, strings of fluid came away.

Diluc’s breath faltered at the sight. His cock didn’t even soften for a moment before he was fucking into her fist again.

“Impressive,” she observed.

“I told you,” he said. “I just, it keeps coming.”

“You keep coming,” she said, just the hint of a tease in her tone. “Exactly how many times have you come today?”

“I—I don’t know, I lost count.”

“Liar,” she said, and started to pump her fist in earnest. Before, she had been letting him do all the work, but if he had the mental control to lie to her while allegedly out of his mind with lust, then she was going to punish him for it. Her fist glided up and down his sloppy cock, and he fell back into the pillows, moaning in staccato.

“At least! At least three times! Rosaria—”

“Sure?”

“At least three times, I lost count after, Rosaria you feel so good—”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” His breath hissed out through his teeth. “I feel like, I feel like—a slave to my base desires, and I hate it, I hate it, Rosaria. I’ve been in control all my life, but sex pollen? Sex pollen?”

The words came out half a laugh, half a sob, and Rosaria couldn’t help the answering wry smile.

“This is a temporary thing, Diluc,” she soothed. “You’re not a slave to anything.” She couldn’t help but smirk at the ridiculousness of the situation. What the fuck were those researchers thinking? “It’s just sex pollen. You’ll be fine.”

“I hope I’ll be, archons I hope I will be,” Diluc moaned.

“Is the cryo helping at all?” she asked, thumbing his nipples with chilled fingers.

“A little!” he yelped, then sucked in a breath to steady himself. “Earlier, even fabric against my skin was painful. Then you, oh, you, ah—cooled me down and now I am less sensitive.”

Rosaria hummed in acknowledgement, condensing a very thin layer of frost on Diluc’s bare, sweaty skin. He arched up into the sensation with an appreciative gasp.

“Come here,” she said, “let’s change your position a little bit.” She settled both of them up against the headboard, him sitting between her legs, his back to her and leaning on her generous tits.

Sitting like that revealed to her that Diluc’s bed faced a large mirror. In the reflection was handsome, naked, come-splattered Diluc, utterly debauched, contrasting her fully clothed self. Diluc, catching her gaze in the mirror, blushed.

“What’s up with the mirror?”

“It came with the room,” he mumbled. She raised an eyebrow, but let it go.

“Have you eaten or hydrated?” she asked, sending little needles of ice prickling at his areolae. He moaned, loud and sharp.

“Not since I returned,” he said. His gaze was fixed on the mirror.

“Eat something, then. Adelinde included food.” She didn’t let him move, instead picking out bits of fruit from the basket and feeding him with the hand not moving on his cock. Dribbles of sunsettia juice ran down his jaw, and she wiped them away with a thumb.

Diluc latched forward and sucked her thumb into his mouth.

“Is that what we’re doing right now?” she murmured. She saw Diluc’s ears redden. She took a valberry and tapped it against his lips. He leaned forward and captured both fruit and fingers with his mouth. The berry's skin burst beneath his teeth, and he sucked her fingers, getting all the juice off them.

Rosaria inhaled sharply.

In the mirror, she watched Diluc suckle on her fingers, cheeks hollowing obscenely around them until he couldn’t possibly taste any more juice, only the salt of her skin. He drew away with a pop that made her stomach do cartwheels.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed the fruit.

“Delicious,” Diluc said huskily. “Thank you…mommy.”

Rosaria’s shocked intake of breath betrayed her. Diluc’s eyes sharpened, and his already deep voice dropped even lower as he repeated, “Thank you, mommy.”

She sagged back into the headboard, wide-eyed.

Diluc chuckled, low, sexy, and somewhat disbelieving. “Is that what we’re doing right now,” he mimicked her.

“Seems like it,” she murmured. Blindly she felt for another fruit, and chilled it with a touch. “Come, Süßer, eat some more. You’ll need your energy.”

He kept his gaze locked on her reflection; she was similarly transfixed. His mouth closed around the valberry, his tongue sliding over the pads of her fingertips. She drew her fingers back with a pop, him leaning forward as if to catch them, before leaning back into her tits and pouting.

Enthralled, she trailed spit-slick fingertips on his cheek. Diluc nuzzled into her palm.

“Thank you, mommy,” he rasped.

Rosaria closed her eyes and felt her cunt throb.

She made him drink an entire bottle of water after that, conscious of how much water he must’ve lost to sweat and semen. It didn’t take long until he was shuddering in her hold again, little beads of sweat forming on his forehead even as she frosted the air.

“I’m sorry, Rosaria, but I need it again,” he said, voice gravelly and rich. Involuntarily, she ground her hips against the mattress. “Earlier, I was almost delirious with it, then you applied cryo and I could think more clearly. But now I can feel it coming again…”

“You coming again, you mean,” she said, wryly. Diluc huffed in his own amusement. There were several cloths in the basket, and she dampened one and wiped down Diluc’s breathtaking abdominals and equally breathtaking cock. Then she drizzled lubricant on her hand and wrapped her fingers around him.

“What do you want, Diluc?” she asked. Like this, she could nuzzle into the back of his ear, so she did. She nibbled at his earlobes as he writhed into her touch. “Do you want to be in control, or shall I?”

“I’m not in control at all,” he said, his breaths coming faster. She recognized the glassy look in his eyes, and started pumping her fist up and down his cock. Apparently, that pace was too slow for Diluc, because he rutted into her fist, head thrown back.

“Talk to me, Süßer,” she ordered.

Diluc fucked into her fist, mouth falling open as he babbled. “I’m not in control at all, and I hate it, I hate it, I don’t like—I don’t like not knowing what’s, what’s going to happen, I don’t like not having a plan—I want to be someone you rely on, someone you respect…I’m supposed to be Diluc Ragnvindr, I’m supposed to be…a tycoon, someone unflappable, untouchable…”

He interrupted himself with a groan as Rosaria tightened her fist around his cock; not enough to be painful, but enough that he whimpered and bucked into the touch, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted it or wanted to get away from it.

“I’m the, ah, oh, Rosaria, Rosaria—I’m the Darknight Hero, what a stupid name—”

“Wow, he admitted it,” she said dryly. He opened his eyes to glare at her reflection, and she twisted her wrist in response. His eyes slammed back shut and he thrust desperately into the circle of her fingers.

“But now I’m a slut like this, and I don’t want to be,” he almost sobbed, bucking madly into her touch. “I’m not supposed to be this stupid, a slave to my own cock, I hate it, I’ve never even—Rosaria, I’d never even used that dildo before today. I was afraid of it, I was so verdammt afraid of it, but then I just, I think I lost my mind. I was, ah, oh fuck, hhhh, three fingers deep before I knew what was happening, and then I—and then I—”

She pushed three chilled fingers into his mouth, and he sucked at them frantically.

“And now I’m just a stupid manwhore slut,” he gasped, her fingers still in his mouth. “I’m a stupid manwhore, I’m a stupid manwhore, I’m just a stupid fucking manwhore, mmm, hhhh—”

Tears dripped from his eyes, and Rosaria realized in horror that there was actual anguish on his face.

“No, no, no, Diluc, no,” she chanted, and twisted so that she was straddling his hips. His eyes flew open as she cradled his jaw with a hand.

“Hey. Hey, Diluc,” she whispered, and leaned her forehead into his. “What the fuck. That’s fucked up. That’s really fucked up.”

He closed his eyes, eyelashes wet.

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting something up your ass,” she said. How and why the fuck is she even having this conversation? Wasn’t she just giving her friend a handjob? “It doesn’t make you stupid or slutty or a manwhore. That’s just the sex pollen talking.” Probably also your fuckton of issues. “It’s fine if degrading yourself is your kink, but you’re crying, so I don’t think it is.”

He shook in her arms, minutely.

“You’re not stupid, you’re not a slut, and you’re not a whore,” she told him. “You’re…” She swallowed. This was getting too real for her. But Diluc needed her, Diluc was crying, and hadn’t she built her identity on being the one who solved problems other people couldn’t handle? “You’re my precious boy, okay? You’re my precious, beautiful boy, who is being so, so good for me.”

Diluc let out a little shuddering breath.

“Say it,” she commanded. “Say that you’re my precious, beautiful boy.”

“I—I—”

“Diluc.”

“I—I’m your precious, beautiful boy.”

“And you’re being good for me.”

“I’m being—I’m being good for you,” he whispered.

“There we go,” she said, and pressed her forehead into his. He shook.

Then suddenly, Diluc caught her gaze, eyes sparking with something that made her danger senses flare. He pulled away, beautiful, crimson eyelashes lowered, and said, “Sorry, mommy.”

Rosaria physically felt herself going lightheaded.

“Sorry, mommy,” he repeated, and if Rosaria was standing up, she would have staggered. “I forgot myself. I’ll be good for mommy, I promise.” There was no disguising the smirk on Diluc’s face now.

Fine. You’re laughing at me? You’re laughing at the kink I literally just discovered because you brought it up after getting yourself sex-pollened? Fine.

Rosaria leaned backward and pulled off her overdress.

Diluc choked on his inhale, and his eyes went straight to her tits.

Triumph thrummed through her body as she tossed the overdress to the floor, next to the used fleshlight. Diluc’s gaze didn’t waver from her tits, straining against her thin white shirt.

“You know,” she said neutrally, “the shirt unclasps at the back.”

Diluc’s hands flew to her back, up to the nape of her neck. Red eyes searched hers, and she maintained the neutral expression on her face.

“May I?” he panted, almost begging. “May I? Mommy?”

She closed her eyes. Every time his deep, gorgeous voice said that, it felt like the ground was pulled out from under her feet. Like she was on a thin shelf of ice atop the ocean, and this was the moment it melted into the waves.

“You may,” she said in a voice she barely recognized as her own.

His fingers were trembling as he unclasped the high-necked shirt. Then it fell away, revealing tits caged in her (best, most supportive) brassiere, and her soft, pale stomach.

Diluc groaned in frustration. She smirked and pulled his face down into the valley of her tits. Beneath her, his cock twitched, and she let out a true bark of laughter.

“Fine, Rosaria, you win,” he sulked, breath tickling her chest.

“I don’t know,” she said coyly, catching his hand and bringing it to the front clasp of her brassiere. “I’m pretty sure if you can open this, you’ll be pretty happy.”

His mouth curved against the skin of her tits. He fumbled with the front clasp for a moment, then the brassiere gave away and he dived face-first into the heavy, soft swells.

“You’re right,” he said, muffled. “I’m a happy man.”

Rosaria’s heartbeat stuttered; she prayed he didn’t notice. Rosaria was observant, all right; she knew Diluc had issues upon issues. He wasn’t, in general, a happy man. Him saying he was, even in the context of smothering himself in her tits, meant a hell of a lot.

Her lube-slick hand found its way back to his erection, and Diluc stifled a groan into her tits.

“Do you want it like this?” she asked. She trailed teasing fingers up his cock. “Or do you want to fuck them?” She jiggled her tits for emphasis.

Diluc raised his head, pupils blown wide at the offer. She smirked. Back during her rebellious phase (though the Sisters would say she was still in her rebellious phase), boys had always chosen the visual of their cocks sliding in between her tits.

Which was why she was taken aback when Diluc said, very politely, “No, thank you, mommy.” The word hooked into her core and yanked, going right to her slick and ignored cunt. “Can I suck them, instead?”

Faintly, she said, “You can do whatever you want.”

He didn’t waste a moment, mouth going straight to her nipples and sucking hard. Rosaria’s back arched and she made a frankly embarrassing sound, something that made Diluc smile into her tit. Teeth nibbled at one nub, while the other was pinched mercilessly between thumb and forefinger, nails scraping ever-so-gently against it.

His mouth wandered, leaving trails of saliva on the curves of her tits. A hard, sucking kiss there—that would mark later, which was likely his intention—a soft nibble there. He nosed into the valley of her tits, licking and sucking with a smile she could feel against her skin. Rosaria leaned backward, supporting her weight with a hand as the other pumped his hot, twitching cock.

“That feels…pretty good,” she told him, breath hitching.

“I’m glad,” he said, voice so warm she might lose her head and catch fire.

Then Diluc’s hand left her, only to return and press something hot on her nipple.

“Oh Bartobas what?” She jerked her head forward, and lost her breath at the sight of Diluc’s fucking vision pressed against her tit.

“Close,” Diluc snickered.

“Is that what we’re doing?” she snapped back, and Diluc’s eyes went wide. “Because I can play that game too, Diluc Ragnvindr.” She reached for her vision, and before Diluc can say anything other than “Wait, wait—” the soft swell of her cryo vision was pressed to his nipple too. Diluc cried out, a high-pitched sob, and arched backward, splattering his abdomen and hers with his come.

Diluc slumped into the crook of her neck, cock still twitching in her hand. Wonder of wonders, now he was merely half-hard, not the steel-beneath-velvet that he had been earlier.

“I guess they were right about the pollen incapacitating pyro vision holders, huh?” Rosaria teased. He huffed against her neck, and she threaded her clean hand through his hair. It was hopelessly mussed, but she did her best to finger-comb the tangles out. “If this isn’t incapacitated, I’d hate to see what is.”

“Imagine if you got hit with this in the midst of battle,” he sighed. “One might just die of embarrassment.”

Or cardiac arrest, she thought darkly. She wet the cloth again and wiped them both down. Diluc leaned back into the headboard, breathing still heavy, and she went with him, settling her cheek on a deliciously pillowy pec.

Her tits were fantastic, if she did say so herself, but Diluc’s tits were well worthy of an award themselves. She blew a cryo-infused breath on one brown, pebbled nipple.

“Rosaria,” he said, half-laughing, half-exhausted. “Don’t, or I’ll go insane again.”

“Eat something before that happens,” she told him, and he reached for the basket.

He was the one feeding her this time, sliding apple slices into her mouth and letting her flick her tongue around his fingertips. The water in the bottles had gone lukewarm, but Rosaria quickly fixed that. They sipped water from the same bottle as Diluc rested from his exertions.

“Think it’s over?” she asked him, idly tracing patterns of frost on his abs. The muscles jumped beneath her touch.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “But we have a little time yet.”

“Do you want to try your dildo again?” she asked. Her fingernail dragged across his stomach as she drew a crown, then a rose, then an owl, then swirls that might be a stylized fire.

He went still beneath her.

“Any way you want is fine,” she assured him. “It’s just that your dick might be getting chafed.”

“Maybe so,” he sighed. “Where is it?”

The dildo was located somewhere in the sheets, cleaned up, then set aside for when, as he said, “went insane again.”

“Since we still have a little time, where’s your hairbrush?” she asked. “Diluc, your hair is a mess. You’ll give Adelinde a heart attack.”

The hairbrush was produced from a vanity (wasn’t that amusing—Diluc had a vanity) and she batted his hands away from it when he reached for it. Instead, she drew him into the vee of her legs as she tried to untangle what she could with her fingers, before she started brushing from the ends and working her way up to the scalp.

Very soon, he was sighing and melting into her hands, the bristles of the brush dragging across his scalp.

“Is this turning you on?” she said, amused.

“No—well—not quite,” he answered. “Just—it feels good. In a vaguely sexual way, but that’s just because...”

“Sex pollen,” she supplied.

“Sex pollen,” he agreed.

Rosaria braided his hair in a medium-tight plait, not enough to pull and cause pain but secure enough that it wouldn’t fall apart with the first onslaught of tossing and writhing. When she tied off the plait, she couldn't help but raise the end of his hair and kiss it, with just the barest brush of her lips.

This was dangerous. This was…this was almost tender, almost domestic. Discomfort prickled her skin.

Then Diluc turned to her, softer than she had ever seen him, and pressed a kiss to her wrist. “Thank you, mommy,” he said, voice dancing with mischief but red eyes truly grateful, and all of Rosaria shivered.

She directed her gaze to his dick, which was beginning to take an interest in the proceedings again. “Time?”

“Time,” he sighed. “I really do apologize, Rosaria. If you want to go, you’re more than welcome to. You’ve already helped so much. Maybe if you chill some bathwater, that will take care of the rest…”

She shimmied her way down to the space between his legs, and parted his thighs with a touch. His asshole winked at her, still loose and wet from earlier. She touched it, and the rim gave way to her fingers easily, like Diluc’s body was begging for her.

“Really?” she said, and looked up at Diluc. His mouth had dropped open at the sight of her stomach-down, tits squished up as she observed his ass. “But what if I want to take care of you like this? What then?”

His entire body relaxed into the bed. She hadn’t even realized he had tensed up.

“Then by all means,” he said, voice cracking, “I am at your service.”

She reached for the dildo and teased his rim, dipping it in just the slightest bit. Diluc thrust into it, but she pulled it back.

“Come on, Rosaria,” he whined.

“Mm.” It was fascinating how his asshole winked without his input. She dipped just the tip in again, and the hole fluttered around it, desperately. She sank the dildo in, just an inch or so, before pulling it back.

She could see, could hear, how Diluc’s walls clung to it. Nearly overcome, she pressed a kiss to his pelvis, the sparse red hair tickling her mouth.

In again, testing how open his asshole was. He took two inches without strain, three with a gasp, four with shifting hips and furrowed brow. By the fifth he was squirming and panting.

“Rosa-ri-a,” he whimpered. “Do you want me to beg? I will. Or—” He paused, a pause Rosaria was beginning to recognize. His voice pitched up, and he whined, “Please, mommy! Put it in, put it all the way in, please.”

Her breath escaped her in a punched-out gasp. Will you fucking quit that, Rosaria wanted to shout, but not really, because the way he said it, the surrender and the sweetness and this stupid newly-discovered kink, made her mildly insane as well. Diluc’s low chuckle reverberated in her ears.

“I love how you sound when I say that,” he confessed, in a gravelly voice that made Rosaria just as insane as his whining boy voice.

“Yeah?”

“Ye—ah!” Rosaria shoved the dildo in all the way without warning, giving him exactly what he wanted. His asshole made a truly depraved sound, and Diluc arched off the headboard with a choked cry. Rosaria grabbed a pillow and slotted it between her legs, so she could have something to grind against.

“Good?” she asked, triumph threaded into her voice.

“You know-oh-oh it is,” Diluc said shakily, hips jumping to meet her full strokes. The dildo had literal balls that served as a base, and she hung onto those as she fucked into him with delicious slippery sounds.

“Tell me anyway,” she said. “Talk to me.”

“Oh-oh-ah hngh that’s a kink of yours, isn’t it? Making—making your partners—talk nnnh while you’re fucking, you’re fucking making them lose—Rosaria oh Rosaria—their mind?”

“And if it is?” she said, dropping into the contralto the other Sisters always mourned the loss of, in choir. “Are you going to indulge my kink…” She swallowed. “My precious boy? My good boy?”

Diluc’s hips jerked even higher, and his untouched cock dribbled on his stomach.

“Yes, mommy,” he whispered, “I’ll—I’ll do anything you say.”

She sucked in a breath and squeezed the pillow between her thighs tight.

“Tell me how it feels, my beautiful boy,” she commanded. She was dimly proud of herself for managing to say that without her voice cracking.

“Feels good, mommy,” he responded immediately. “When, when it was me fucking myself, I always knew what was coming, I had control, and that was—that was, Rosaria, mommy, oh, fuck—that was good, but with you, I don’t know if you’re going to slooow—no don’t, don’t slow down, come on!—or speed up. I don’t know what you’re going to do next, if you’re going to be merciless—I want you to be merciless, mommy! I want you to use me, I want to, I want you to make me come all over myself, make me a mess. I hated it earlier when I made a mess of myself but I think, I think, I know I don’t mind if it’s you. If it’s you taking me apart.”

Where did serious, buttoned-up Diluc Ragnvindr learn to dirty-talk like this?! Rosaria crossed her legs and ground into the pillow. She could feel herself soaking through her panties, her labia squishing and clit twitching. She leaned her hot forehead into his thick, gorgeously muscled thigh and prayed for relief.

“It’s so delicious when you touch me, mommy. Rosaria. Oh, by all the fucking gods. It’s so different when someone else is fucking me, it’s so different when someone else is fucking my ass. It’s different when, oh, when it’s you. Make me a mess, Rosaria, make me a mess, make me dirty again, it’s so good, it wasn’t like this earlier, it’s never been like this before…”

“Yeah?”

“Ye-e-es. When you weren’t here, when I was touching myself, it didn’t feel half as good as you now, nothing compares to this, to you, not even the time you—”

He broke off, cheeks flushing even more scarlet.

“Oh?” Rosaria said, interested. Diluc turned his face into a pillow, but she drew the dildo out, torturously slow, and he sobbed at the sensation. “Diluc. I won’t put it back in until you answer. Not even when I what?”

“Mommy! Please!”

“I’m not going to give in just because you called me that,” Rosaria said, lying outrageously. She teased the realistic tip of the dildo at the rim of Diluc’s asshole. Just to torture him some more, she dribbled lube onto his cock, letting it drip down to his balls, then to his asshole. “Tell me.”

“Last summer! Last summer, you, you wore that outfit, the one with the fishnets and the sleeveless white shirt, and we, we got caught in a storm…Do you remember, that was the day we busted a drug ring—Yes! Thank you Rosaria, thank you mommy thank you mommy.” Rosaria glanced up, and saw that Diluc had his arm over his eyes, writhing as she slammed the dildo back into him.

“Keep talking, beautiful,” she said.

He obeyed, probably terrified she’d stop fucking him. The obscene sound of fake balls slapping Diluc’s skin filled the room. “Your shirt got drenched, Rosaria. Mommy. I could see everything. Your every curve, the dip of your hips…Your bra was white that day, do you remember?” He twisted wildly into the sheets, panting. “I could see your nipples, I wanted to—I wanted to—I wanted to suck them so much. I touched myself that night, just to the thought of that. Of touching you, of serving you…”

Rosaria didn’t think she was prone to blushing, but the image of Diluc writhing on his bed, thinking of her, made her cheeks hot.

Would he have looked like he did earlier, when she first came into his room? Would he have keened desperately into empty nothingness, crying out Rosaria, Rosaria, please?

“I thought that was the best orgasm ever. I could never replicate it,” he said, little-boy whine completely gone, leaving only the serious young man in its place. “I had no idea.” Rosaria’s hips shifted against the pillow. “I had no idea what it would be like to have you fuck me.”

“Yeah?” she whispered, heart in her throat. “Are you telling me you’ve wanted this for a while?”

“For a very long time,” Diluc said. “I’m so grateful you let me touch your breasts earlier. I’m so, so grateful.” He didn’t pitch his voice back up, voice still in its regular register as he said, “Thank you, mommy.”

Rosaria’s entire body convulsed.

Diluc’s eyes widened. “Rosaria, did you—?”

“No,” she panted, “not quite.” It wasn’t an orgasm, but it was pretty fucking close, and all because of Diluc fucking talking to her.

“Are you wet, mommy?” he asked, and Rosaria let out a slightly mad laugh because obviously, fuck? You’re figuratively and possibly literally the hottest man in all of Mondstadt and you’ve been orgasming in front of me for—she glanced at the window—at least two hours. Who wouldn’t get wet? But Diluc was still babbling, and the hazy look in his eyes told Rosaria he was deep in sex pollen subspace again. “Did I make you wet? I can make you do that? What a fucking honor. You have no verdammt idea. I didn’t want to ask, I—I know you’re only doing this because of the fucking sex pollen. But if you’re wet, it’s okay, right? Do you want me, Rosaria? Or do you at least want to come? I can do that for you, Rosaria, mommy, I can be good for you, I can be your good boy.” His head was thrown so far back that his neck was lifted off the pillow. Spit pooled in his open mouth, and his next words came out half-cough, half-moan.

“Won’t you let me be your good boy, mommy?”

“Oh Diluc what the fuck,” Rosaria nearly shouted, and shoved the dildo deep into his ass, as far as it could go. Diluc howled, spurts of cloudy fluid shooting up and out his cock, then pooling on his abdomen. Rosaria ignored him, nearly frantic as she stripped off her shirt and shorts. Diluc gasped, lurching forward to help her get her tights off, both of them nearly ripping the fabric in their shared desperation to get them off.

“Rosaria, Rosaria, archons,” he groaned. His gaze raked over her body, now clad only in panties, with a gaze that managed to be both devouring and reverent. “Can I touch you?”

She forced herself not to tremble as she guided his hands to her hips. His hands slid up, attempting to span her waist with his fingers. Her body overflowed between his fingers, and he squeezed, groaning at the feel of her. Somehow they ended up with her straddling him again, and she clung to his neck as his hands roamed her body.

He traced the silvery lines of her stretch marks with wonder, and Rosaria swalllowed the lump in her throat.

“Rosaria,” he whispered into her neck, “this is sacrilegious but you are a goddess.”

Her unpracticed answering smile was shaky. “Don’t let the other Sisters hear you say that.”

“You’re the only one I care about, anyway,” he told her. His lips brushed the hollow of her ear, and she shivered at the sensation of his breath fluttering on her skin.

She leaned her forehead against him and belatedly remembered she was there to cool him down. But her control wavered, and instead of a thin, measured layer of frost, she ended up condensing the ambient water vapor into snowfall.

Diluc tilted his head up, and she watched snowflakes settle on his eyelashes, on his cheeks, on his broad and biteable shoulders.

Rosaria didn’t realize she was whispering until she heard herself say, “My beautiful, beautiful Diluc.”

His eyes went to her, and in a breath the space between them closed and he was kissing her.

Rosaria’s mouth opened in surprise, and Diluc took advantage, the tip of his tongue caressing her bottom lip. She trembled and kissed him back, brushing her tongue against his as his hands went into her hair and cradled the back of her head.

Their first kiss ended with a soft sound. Diluc was so near Rosaria could share his air. This close to him, this intimate with him, Rosaria felt her mind haze over with unwanted, unnecessary feelings that she had determinedly shoved away.

“This is okay, right?” he said softly, their lips barely brushing against each other. “I’m allowed this? M—”

“You’re allowed,” she interrupted.

Diluc broke into a smile that would have melted a lesser woman (and would definitely slay the flower shop assistant), and kissed Rosaria again. His dick twitched in between their stomachs, but both of them ignored it in favor of their second, third, fourth kiss. She lost count after the fifth, when she pressed him down into the mattress and stretched out on top of him. She licked into his mouth like she owned him, and he let her.

“What do you want?” he asked her, turning her question against her. “What can I do for you?”

She closed her eyes, and brought his fingers to her pelvis, slipping them past the band of her panties and down to her cunt. His pupils blew wide and he bit his bottom lip as he delved past the covering of hair, through the slick lips and into her hole.

She bucked into him, involuntarily, when he accidentally grazed her clit.

“Fuck me, Diluc?” she requested.

His breath hitched, and he kissed her again, deep, devouring. She sucked at the lip he’d bitten, soothing the indent with her tongue.

“Yes, Rosaria,” he said, “of course, of course.” He broke away to draw her panties down her hips, and groaned to see that the gusset was dark with her want.

“Can I eat you out?” he asked. She shivered and said, “Maybe later.”

They broke off for a moment to drink the contraceptive teas Adelinde had provided (“I’m going to give her a raise.” “She deserves it, you wouldn’t be able to manage half the shit you get up to without her.”). Then they were kissing again, the taste of tea shared between them until it faded into soft whimpers and slippery sounds.

“You’ve done all the work so far,” Diluc said softly, “let me be on top for now?” Rosaria nodded, and he turned them gently, cradling her in his arms like she was a fucking treasure, like a beloved fucking maiden instead of the blood-soaked assassin he knew she was. He laid her down amongst soft pillows, kissing her through the entire process, like he couldn’t bear to let go of her even for a second.

She reached for him, and it was her hands that guided his cock into her. When he entered where he was welcomed, their twin moans mingled in the air.

“Wet,” he said, awed, and she snickered.

“Wasn’t that what you were so happy about, earlier?”

“Yes, but…” He kissed her. “I wasn’t entirely sure it was real.” He started moving, and Rosaria had expected he would just start hammering away, like all the boys she’d had before, but he went slow, making her feel every inch of him. She wasn’t certain she could actually feel the individual veins in his cock, but he was surely making an effort at it. His hot, hard, twitching length seemed to be trying to imprint on her walls.

“Rosaria,” he said, “do you think that the gods really do look at us through our visions?”

“What?”

“Do you think the gods really look at us through our visions,” he repeated.

“I—I don’t know,” she said, her answer coming in staccato bursts as he continued his rhythm in and out of her. “Some people think it’s a proof of strength, or a medal for having survived... who knows? I—” she moaned, as Diluc ground into a spot that made her see sparks. “I don’t limit my vision with ceremonies and definitions. It witnesses me, and I witness it, that's all.”

“I see,” he said, and there was a thread of wickedness in the tone that made Rosaria sit up and say, “What are you—ah!”

Diluc gently pressed his vision, which was just on the edge of too hot for comfort, to the swollen curve of her clit.

Rosaria’s head thudded back onto the pillow as she gasped, “Diluc Ragnvindr!”

She was going for indignant, but the way her pussy spasmed around his dick may have tipped him off that she wasn’t at all.

“My vision must really like what it’s witnessing,” he mused. She cracked open an eye to glare at him.

“Don’t try me,” she threatened, and he had the gall to laugh as he pressed back into her. She moaned nigh-soundlessly, and he took advantage by licking into her mouth and mercilessly taking the very air from her lungs. That sort of thievery got people strung up by the feet and tied to the Anemo Archon’s statue, didn’t he know!

“You’re not vocal in bed,” he observed, voice trickling through her like honey. “Is that part of why you have a voice kink?”

“Is that what it’s called,” she breathed more than asked. He shrugged, and the sudden movement made her clench reflexively around him.

“I don’t know. I don’t mind it, though, because you’re so…” He cupped her breasts in his hands, thumbing the prominent nipples, and she jerked up into him. “You’re responsive. You keep twitching and shuddering, Rosaria. Even though you don’t say anything, I can feel you. It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”

She spasmed again, and he smiled at her, almost boyishly pleased. An uncontrollable blush rose to her face, and he leaned down to kiss her.

His vision still rested on her clit, just enough pressure to make her feel it, just enough heat to have her hips stuttering, unsure if she wanted it or wanted it away. Her orgasm swirled low and dangerous in her belly, her spine tingling with the telltale sign that this was going to be a Big One, the kind that she only ever got when she was ridiculously worked up, alone in her room and high on post-battle adrenaline, on the sight of a sweaty Diluc silhouetted in flames, cutting down enemies then quirking his lips at her like they were friends—

Diluc’s muscles strained, and she slid her hands up to his shoulders. “You want to go faster?” she asked him, pulling him down into her. He leaned back a little, his wet dick slipping against her clit and making her gasp.

“It’s fine,” she reassured him, wriggling slightly to get his dick back into her. “I won’t break.”

“I’m not afraid of that,” he said immediately. “I know you’re strong.”

Barsibato, Morax, Baal, Buer. Who the fuck made him, how the fuck did he end up like this, with me? In me?

“It’s only that I want this to last,” he said quietly.

“You’re sex pollened,” she said. “You’ll be fine.”

He shook his head, strands working loose from the plait and framing his face. “I can feel it dissipating now. You’ll be done with me soon.”

I don’t know if I can ever be done with you.

“Mm,” she hummed, rather than say that. She opened her legs wider, pulled her thighs higher, trusting in her flexibility. He gasped at the sight of her, thrusting into her once, fast, deep, and uncontrolled, before he visibly forced himself to slow down once again.

“While I have you,” she said faltering, then cleared her throat. “While I have you—” this time with more strength, “—fuck me like you don’t have to last, because you can have me again and again.”

“Rosaria, fuck,” he near-whimpered, before he started slamming into her. She cried out, once, surprised by the force, before bracing herself to receive all that he could give. The slap of his skin on her skin resounded through the bedroom, and Rosaria grew even slicker at the sound.

“Talk to me?” Her voice came out begging.

“Fuck, Rosaria, this will be embarrassing,” he said, closing his eyes and pounding into her cunt.

“More embarrassing than getting sex pollened?”

“It just might be,” he muttered darkly.

“Come on, Diluc,” she said, in the low, sinful voice she knew was her sexiest. “Your voice gets me off. Your words get me off. Won’t you do this for me?”

Judging by how Diluc’s eyes flew open and how he ravaged her mouth, she was pretty damn sure she nailed the register.

“By the gods, Rosaria, okay, fine—earlier, before you arrived, before you were real, I had so many—fuck, Rosaria—I had so many fantasies that they were just flickering in my head, I couldn’t focus on a single thing. I was so turned on I could barely string together any coherent thoughts. But there was one memory, one memory—this was a few months ago, you didn’t see me. Or maybe you were ignoring me. It was daytime, you weren’t on duty so maybe you were pretending I was just a bartender you barely knew. You walked past, ah, ah, shit, don’t clench so hard, I really will come too fast—you walked past the Angel’s Share, and there was a dog. There was a dog, and you leaned down and I heard you, so clearly. I heard you say, ‘Who’s a good boy? You’re a good boy.’

“I was fucking that fleshlight so hard, and I kept thinking, and this was so stupidly slutty of me—” Rosaria growled in warning, and Diluc cut himself off.

“I thought, I want to be her good boy. I want to be your good boy, Rosaria, I want to be yours—I kept thinking, does Rosaria have a puppy kink? Is Rosaria into pet play? Because—verdammt, Rosaria, please—I can do that, I can be her puppy, I can be her messy puppy—” His voice dropped an octave. “If she wants a dog I can bark. I’m already a dog in fucking heat anyway, the sex pollen made me like that, I’m her dog in heat, just her dog in fucking heat, woof woof woof—”

“DILUC BY THE GODS,” Rosaria screamed, and then her entire world splintered and she was coming, coming harder than she’d ever come before in her entire life, just absolutely gushing with it, soaking herself and Diluc and the sheets. Everything blacked out before her, her scream ringing out into the air and taking all the air in her lungs.

Vaguely she felt Diluc grabbing her hips and rutting into her, ferocious and all-consuming. She clenched down on him as hard as she could, even as she just kept coming and coming and coming, until she felt him ram into her as deeply as he could and howl his own climax.

She might have passed out.

When she came back to herself, Diluc was pressing worshipful kisses to the column of her neck, her clavicles, her cleavage, her stretch marks, the curve of her stomach that even the most vigorous exercise refused to dissolve.

Rosaria sagged into the pillows, weak as water, and tugged him to her. She was too wiped to kiss coherently, but she tried anyway. From the way Diluc sighed into her mouth and sucked her bottom lip, he was well content with the effort.

“What the fuck, Diluc,” she murmured, eyes still closed. She felt him smile against her.

“I did tell you it was embarrassing.”

“For the record, I’m not into pet play.”

“Noted,” he said, and made to pull out. She wrapped shaking legs around him, locking him into place, and he huffed a laugh and lay down next to her, turning so that they were face to face.

“Not into pet play, but came mind-meltingly hard to the thought of me being her dog.”

“Who said it was mind-melting?” she said, but the way she was still heaving may have given her away. Diluc kissed just beneath her eyelids and didn’t answer.

“I don’t have a pet kink,” she insisted. I have a you kink. “You’re just sexy.”

“Yeah?” he murmured, and pulled her closer. “Mommy thinks I’m handsome?”

She truly could not help the muscle spasm. He laughed into her tits.

“Quit it,” she said. “I’m exhausted.”

“You’re exhausted?” he said, incredulous. “I’ve been fucking for five hours!”

“You’re at risk of cardiac arrest,” she mumbled. “Get some rest. Get some food in you.”

“You’re cock-warming, mommy,” he pointed out. She opened an eye to glare at him.

“Will you give me five minutes to enjoy the afterglow,” she said. He laughed at her again. Fuck. Diluc was laughing so much today. It was such a pretty fucking laugh. She’d never heard him laugh so much as he did today. Maybe those gross sayings were right and people did need to get well laid to truly relax.

He gave her fifteen minutes, nosing into her neck and sucking hickeys into the delicate skin. She let him. She wore a turtleneck anyway. His cock was soft between them, finally, but she reached out with her power to make it snow anyway, just to be safe.

She pretended he knew that the snowflakes falling on his skin were her answering kisses.

Eventually, she let him pull out of her, hissing at the sensation. He kissed her soothingly, and then went for the (blessed) basket for more cloth, water, and food.

“Bath later,” he told her, as he wiped up their combined fluids from between her legs. “My knees are jelly at the moment. If I tried to make my way to the bathroom, I might fall.”

She hummed in acknowledgement, pressing a sunsettia slice to his mouth. Obediently, he took it in, swirling his tongue around her fingers just because he could.

They settled against the headboard, trading bites of fruit and sips of water from the same bottle. He ate valberries from her hand (“Like a dog,” he teased, and she dug her fingernails into his thigh) then kissed his way up from her palm, to her wrist, her forearms, her biceps, her neck, before finally reaching her mouth. It was so fucking affectionate, almost fucking reverent, that it should have made Rosaria jump out the window. But she was too blissed out to care.

A little later, as moonlight slanted through Diluc’s window, he said, “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”

She raised an eyebrow expressively, and directed her gaze at his extremely satisfied dick. He blushed.

“I’m not sorry we had sex,” he clarified. “In fact, I am grateful beyond words. But to you, I—I wished to be someone you can rely on, someone worthy of your respect. Not uncontrolled like that.”

“You are someone I can rely on,” she told him. A strand of scarlet hair had fallen out of the plait, and she pushed it behind his ear. “And I do respect you. I’ll still respect you in the morning, even.”

She paused for a long moment. He had been vulnerable with her (embarrassingly vulnerable, even, given the nakedness and horniness and sex fucking pollen); she could be vulnerable with him.

“I like to think we’re friends, Diluc,” Rosaria said. The sincerity almost made her skin crawl. “I don’t have many of those.”

He took her hand and looked into her eyes. She’d fucked him and he’d fucked her but nothing felt as intimate as him just looking at her and touching her. “Nor I,” he said, “and you’re one of the closest friends I have.”

“I’ve had sex with people I didn’t care about, whose names I don’t even remember now,” Rosaria said quietly. “All of it was meaningless. With you, that's not the case. I’m glad we had sex.”

He pressed his forehead to hers, not kissing her, just sharing air. His fingers fit into the spaces between hers, and she should be running, should be leaping out the window, he was Diluc Ragnvindr with his mission of justice and she was just an orphaned bandit who clung to whatever scraps of goodness there was in the world and pretended she could protect it. (Mondstadt. She clung to Mondstadt.)

“I’m glad too,” he told her. “Of everyone, I’m glad it was you.”

“Take backup next time, though.”

“I will. I’ll even time it for choir practice.”

She smiled.

“Dinner?” he asked. “Adelinde will have left some in the oven.”

Rosaria snorted. “You owe that woman your life.”

“You’re not wrong,” he said, then saw the messy pile her clothes had made on the floor. “Don’t pick that up, I have—” He rummaged in his closet and held out a nightshirt, long enough that she wouldn’t need panties to preserve her modesty, not that she had much of that left. She was rather sure the whole estate had heard them fucking. Diluc himself slipped into loose pants, forgoing the shirt and allowing her to feast her eyes on his muscles and broad shoulders.

“Are you going to treat me to wine too?” she said, as they walked down the staircase to the private dining room, not the grand hall.

“Wine and dinner after making love,” he mused, and Rosaria’s heart stuttered in her chest. “We’ve gone about this backwards. But yes, I think the master of the Dawn Winery can spare a bottle of wine or two.”

“Extravagant,” she said. “For such blessings, I give him my thanks.”

“He’ll even throw in breakfast tomorrow morning,” he said. He didn’t look at her, but in the lamplight she could see his ears were burning red.

“Will he now,” she said softly. “Well, who am I to refuse?”

Diluc smiled at her, bright as dawn, and Rosaria surrendered.