Serene Slumbers
Synopsis: Why dream alone when your whole world is beside you? Drabbles on how they sleep! \(^ヮ^)/
Characters: Zhongli, Xiao, Al Haitham and Cyno x Fem! Reader.
Warnings: Cyno’s jokes and Xiao’s past, otherwise just fluff and typical domestic romance with your husband! [I think my layouts look much nicer as of late. Enjoy loves! I’m open to suggestions and other drabbles <3]
[Now Playing: Dark Red- Steve Lacy]
Zhongli
- Of course, being of the seven archons, Zhongli had a rich, informative memory. If you were to play a guessing game on what exactly he didn’t know, you’d be as old as he was. Nobody’s traditional knowledge surpassed his.
- Hence why you were delighted whenever you would cuddle up against your dearest husband, enthusiastically nodding when he offered to tell you a tale of his own. He was just so sweet when he rambled on what he was passionate about.
- The former archon always made sure to have some sort of therapeutic tea and incense to soothe you both asleep afterwards, and don’t even hesitate asking him to play with your hair or massage your neck too.
“So, anything special happen today, dearest?” Zhongli’s question awoke you from your reverie, you currently laid on the opposite side of the bed, legs freely swinging in the air as you admired your lover.
It was moderately late, the chatting of people outside had reduced significantly, whilst the coos of nocturnal birds could be heard faintly. All that remained was the comfortable silence and muffled miscellaneous sounds.
“Not much…Is this your way of drawing my attention back to you?” You quizzed, a grin tugging on the corners of your lips, with Zhongli returning a curt hum of approval. Being truthful, your quietness had surprised him a little. Usually, you’d be talking more.
Novelty cups of brewed drinks set on a tray invited the tea enthusiast to sip some, an action he could perform before he could decide on what to do. You merely looked up at him.
“How does a story sound, my love?” Zhongli offered, placing the fine porcelain onto the vacant plate. He removed his gloves and tailcoat, unbuttoning and rolling the sleeves of his magnolia shirt up, to make himself comfortable.
A common practice of his, soothing you into a deep slumber with his silky, baritone voice. But you seemed to be more focused on something else, or rather something else about him. So distracted you couldn’t seem to register his question.
Those gorgeous golden veins running over his visible chest and biceps, or the geo insignias on his palms and back. The same hue as those aureate irises which would deliver such ardent gazes. To be honest with yourself, the very same thought you entranced yourself with earlier that night.
“Oh, sorry, sure!” You sheepishly replied, averting your glance and moving to sit beside him. Being as observant as he is, Zhongli found your behaviour was unusual. Slender fingers grasped your chin, pulling your face closer to his own as he momentarily observed the pink tint to it.
“Something distracting you, sweetheart?” And then, you could of sworn your cheeks currently resembled the colour of a rose. Just the way he gently swayed you into him more, gripping your waist with the other hand.
“It’s just-” You were interrupted with his lips capturing yours, easily rendering you wordless. Your husband already knew why, no need to explain when you melting against him already spoke louder than your stammering words. He pulled away.
“Does my identity as Morax still captivate you that much, love?”
Xiao
- At first, Xiao was extremely cautious, he was frightened of harming you with his karmic debt if you got too close, for too long. It would begin with a simple hand resting above your head. But after a tedious amount of reassurance, he deemed placing a hand around your abdomen wouldn’t hurt.
- Your husband insisted that sleep wasn’t something he needed, though you caught him dozing off. He just looked so gorgeous when resting with you, those piercing iris reduced to calm, closed eyes.
- Night terrors were not new nor rare to him— frequently he’d wake up, ghosts of tears which were long ago wiped away with your gentle touch. You understood all he’d been through as the last Yaksha, you longed to do nothing but comfort him. Weak was the last thing you saw him as.
Those hideous, sinister memories clouded his mind. His friends— family, being torn and ripped apart, their souls in agony. It felt harder to breathe, Xiao could feel his throat closing up, jolting upright to wake himself from that graphic nightmare. Tears of fury and desolation welled up in his eyes, his ungloved hands coming to tug at his hair. It was all too much.
Feeble, he thought of himself, unable to accept and move on from the emptiness in his heart, if humans could do it why couldn’t he? Your lover’s breathing became irregular, now entering a state of self-induced hysteria and panic. Now he was definitely crying, that cynical shell torn to shreds.
The sound of sniffling alerted you, immediately looking to your side to see your husband sat up, discreetly suffering again. Your heart clenched at the sound, you longed for him to be free from his undeserved karma. You quickly flicked the bedside lamp on, handing a glass of water to Xiao.
No matter how much he tried to avoid you looking at him, it didn’t work. You lovingly fondled his face, stroking the remnants of his tears away. He simply slouched, fixing his eyes onto the bedsheets he desperately clutched in his hands.
“Dear? Was it the night terrors again?” You sympathetically whispered, pushing back the tresses of turquoise which concealed his face from you. He merely nodded, opting to stay quiet. No matter how long it would take, you would sit beside him until he felt better.
And he loved you for it. You made him feel more safe than he had felt in eons, always there to listen and care for him. You were so unselfish and forgiving, like no other mortal he’d ever met. That’s what made you special, made you his first love.
His breathing eventually stabilised, head no longer pulsating from the migraine, his vision had returned to normal too. Xiao turned to face you, an unreadable expression. His calloused hands tucked you into the covers, placing his hand on your forehead as if you were sick.
It was adorable to say the least, he obviously wanted to reciprocate your gesture. Xiao soon laid down too, a comfortable silence enveloped you both. You hummed to yourself, thinking of something to lull him to sleep.
“How does some almond tofu sound? Not the healthiest, but it’ll help you relax.” You offered, not missing the slight glimmer in his eyes. With no further response, you assumed that was a yes, briefly exiting the room to bring a refrigerated container of the sweet meal.
That night, the fog which was ever-present in Xiao’s mind cleared, forgetting his troubles as you fed him the delicacy and recalled stories and events of that day. Oh, how lucky he was to have you.
“…Thank you, dear.”
Al Haitham
- As expected, a light sleeper. It doesn’t matter how exhausted he gets, even the simplest of sounds will wake him immediately. Not the best when you try arrange some sort of surprise for him.
- Despite this, Al Haitham is by no means a morning person. He despises having to wake up for his duties which were practically forced upon him as the Acting Grand Sage. He’d much rather prefer staying with you.
- He absolutely adores it when you cling onto him, forcing his hesitant self into your warm embrace, tracing lines with your finger over his chiseled abdomen, or the peculiar emerald implanted on his chest.
Distant chirping of coupled birds nesting, or the streams of light peering through the gaps of the curtains, the curt gentle breathing of your beloved beside you— all signs that morning had arrived some time ago. These sounds you often overlooked, too consumed in your own duties to value the nature surrounding you.
Your eyes averted themselves to your waist, restricted in a grasp you struggled to pry yourself from. As comforting as it was, your schedule was quite packed today. No lie-ins you told yourself. But that was difficult to execute.
Al Haitham’s fingers were intertwined with yours, his face nestled into your neck, feeling steady rising of his chest. He just looked so peaceful— without that signature frown and undecipherable look in his eyes, rather with a slight smile. You’d hate to awaken him, maybe you could make breakfast before he wakes up?
Gradually, you shifted his arms onto the blanket you once slept on, wriggling out of his hold. Now sitting upright, you brushed through your hair with your fingers, dissipating whatever knots were there prior. Your attempts to sneakily get away were halted, the quiet, raspy voice of your husband audible.
“Where are you going?” Al Haitham muttered, emerald eyes cracked open obscurely through his lashes. Your breath hitched, looking over at him once more. You caressed his platinum hair, determining whether you should tell him or not.
“Haitham…I was going to make coffee for us, it’s getting late now, we’ve got to head to the Akademiya soon.” You sighed, feeling him deflate slightly at your words. Yes, you’d love to stay in his exclusive company for longer, but there were priorities.
“Doesn’t matter, just don’t go…please.” Your husband whispered, the plead quieter than the rest of his sentence. Your mind was a mess, how could you deny such a heartfelt request? Persuade him more perhaps?
“I’d love to, but you’re forgetting who you are, Mr. Grand Sage.” You replied, resting your head on the oak bed frame. This time, he grumbled a bit, glancing up at you tiredly.
“Acting, I’m not taking up something i didn’t sign up for, darling.” Al Haitham corrected, watching you slump further into the bedsheets beside him. It was quite easy for him to get you to listen to him— you loved him too much, just as he adores you.
“You’re so-” You tried to fire back, but you were too late, he reached up to kiss you gently on the cheek, pulling your waist towards him to coerce you beside him. You were in the same position as you were just ten minutes ago.
“Insufferable? Yeah, I know, just come here.”
Cyno
- Contrary to popular belief, the alert general is actually quite a deep sleeper, whether that’s a good thing or not, it depends. Sure, you were able to get ready before him, but it was almost impossible to wake him up verbally.
- Cyno, much to your annoyance, snores a lot. Though that was better than if he was to sleep talk. You could already imagine the migraine you would of had from his tragic puns.
- Your otherwise stoic husband prefers to sleep with you in his arms, safe and protected with him. It didn’t matter much if you were snuggled up against him, head on his toned chest, or if you were simply facing his direction, a hand lazily slung over your waist.
- He doesn’t like to sleep when wearing tight clothing, for he finds it constricting and rather irritating. Cyno would often have some loose shirt on, other times nothing on at all— of course he wears underwear. Can’t have you thirsting over him when he’s trying to sleep.
The miniature clock on the wall of your bedroom— a keepsake from your own home, currently displayed five in the morning. So close to your alarm going off, but you haven’t even had a full half-hour of sleep. All because of your noisy lover’s snoring.
It was difficult to tell if you were even conscious from the deprivation of precious rest. Cyno laid on his back, his angelic, ivory hair strewn across his forehead severely contrasted the demonic snorts he emitted. The urge to grab his shoulders and shake him awake was overwhelming.
“Cyno.” You meekly uttered, prodding his cheek lightly. He didn’t retaliate, simply unreactive from the deep slumber. Archons, another issue to deal with. You frowned, glancing yet again at him as you waited for what seemed like an eternity— no longer than a minute really.
“Love!” You audibly exclaimed this time, efforts in vain as he just turned over to his side, swatting away the idea of letting you sleep peacefully. You groaned, massaging your temples in frustration. Guess there’s only one last resort now. With the best tone you could muster, you imitated a masculine voice.
“General Mahamatra!” You bellowed, pinching his arm as he almost fell off the bed, yelping in surprise. It took your husband a while to realise what was happening, groaning when he looked at your irritated face. He let out a displeased grumble, blankly waiting for what you had to say to him, but it never came.
“Yes dear, what’s the issue?” Cyno groggily huffed, although the glower on your face was quite adorable, despite how you tried to seem angry with him. You crossed your arms over your chest, an exasperated sigh left your lips.
“Please! I can’t sleep with your snoring, It’s almost as bad as your jokes!” You implored, hugging the plushie he had gifted you prior, which now lived full-time on your bed. At that, he snickered, stomach rising and falling in laughter to mask that prodding offence at your comment.
“You could say i’m snore-ing you to sleep.” Cyno cackled, usually your heart would start fluttering at the sound of his amusement, but now you felt your eyes twitch. “You know, boring…snoring—” He cleared his throat, as if you’d want to hear any more.
“Cyno! No more!” You shrieked, moving to sit on top of him as you repeatedly hit him with the pillow, his uncharacteristic giggles sounding through the room. His protests fell on deaf ears, all thanks to the quite aggressive action of yours. Luckily, that little flush on his face wasn’t visible in the night.
You soon collapsed onto him, face buried into the crook of his neck. Cyno felt a little apologetic, smoothing his hands over your messy hair. Finally, peace at last.
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