i have diluc brainworms where he likes to finger you - it's like a drug for him to see your expressions and hear the wet squelches of your hole and feel the twitching of your muscles. his fingers are long and THICK and fuckkkkk i imagine him pumping them inside you, rubbing on the sensitive walls and that spongy spot that makes you see white. him being drunk on the way you squirm and writhe and drool from the overwhelming pleasure. bonus if he uses his pyro vision to heat up his fingers that then toy with your nipples and clit,,, hhghhg sorry i'm so not normal about this man

please i do not mind at all have a little brainrot because ahagahagah diluc

not sfw/minors dni. cw: reader is afab, no gendered terms used. fingering.

Diluc's fingers always hover, at first; as if he cannot quite believe that he's going to be able to touch you. They brush your bare skin, fingertips warm, his breath catching in his throat as you sigh and rest your head against his breastbone, as you urge softly in a voice so needy that it makes Diluc want to pleasure you forever and ever so he can make sure you are never wanting;

"Please touch me more," it gives him some confidence. One hand fastens about your thigh, pulls your legs further apart so that you're laid out bare beneath him completely, spread out like a blooming flower. He breathes out heavy and hot, steaming in the air, as he looks down at you - as his hand drags up that soft skin, before he sinks one finger inside of you long and thick and still not enough. You whine, canting your hips upwards, begging him to fuck you with them instead of just leaving you wanting - but his eyes have gone hazy.

"You feel so good," he murmurs, as if he can't believe it himself. "So hot. So wet. So tight--" He pumps the finger in, out, in - your lashes fluttering at the sensation, little noises escaping your parted lips. You try and make yourself say his name, a prayer for him to treat you rougher; but as you manage a syllable, suddenly two thick fingers are inside of you and he's crooking them, brushing the textured spot inside of your walls that makes you whine aloud.

Diluc doesn't drink; but he seems intoxicated nonetheless by your reactions, the way your body trembles beneath him, the whimpers of his name and the feel of you squeezing him like a vice. He slants his mouth down hungrily over yours, lit by new fire - and, desperately, you kiss him wet and messy back. His two fingers continue to abuse the new spot inside of you as he trails hungry kisses over your cheeks, your jawline, your neck and your collarbone. In between the wet kisses, he murmurs;

"So good," he says, a man in awe. "So right. So pretty. So beautiful. So perfect--"

Rough thumb pressing against your clit even as the two fingers inside of you curl and brush and thrust. You feel a heat not merely from your own sweat-slicked skin, the lightest touch of Pyro at the pad of said thumb, and without his mouth to bury the sound into you wail aloud into the ceiling. The maids will hear; the butler, any other house staff who may be milling around waiting to attend to their master's orders - but with Diluc's fingers inside of you, with you squirming and shaking and all over hot with pleasure and need, you cannot bring yourself to care.

And, as Diluc urges you further and further, as he stares down at you like a man witnessing the divine descending from Celestia itself - you don't think he does either.