v-dkja

[v-dkja]

“A Day Off (with him).”

Alhaitham x fem!reader. Only fluff, no angst/hurt, no plot, soft alhaitham (only for u), and kinda comfort?

How Alhaitham spent his day? Reading a book and a cup of tea, with you of course! And listening to you talking about your day is his favorite things in the world. (AO3)

© V-DKJA / TOFUDOM. PLEASE DON’T REPOST OR COPY WITHOUT PERMISSION. ^^

#genshin x female reader #genshin scenarios #genshin fluff #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x you #al haitam x reader #al haitham x reader #al haitham scenarios #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x female reader #alhaitham x y/n #fluff headcanons

[v-dkja]

take a chance with me

“Oh, why can't we for once, say what we want, say what we feel?” kamisato ayato x gn!reader. slight angst, arranged marriage, hurt/comfort, arguing, mentions of death, open ending.

Those vague memories flashed through your head; young Ayato who smiled at you. A smile that makes you willing to die for him. he flashed a sweet smile, while his hand gave you a flower he had just picked. You remember that moment well, reluctant to ever forget it.

You also remembered young Ayato's face when he found out that the two of you were engaged— and would be getting married someday in the future. You don't know whether it's a good thing or not. Actually, at that moment you felt happy, because you had kept your feelings for him, without thinking about Ayato's true feelings for you.

And here you are, waiting for Ayato— who has now become your husband, to come home. You haven't seen his beautiful face that looks like a painting by a famous and skilled painter, and you should be used to it. You wait for him with sadness, knowing that when he comes home, he won't hug you and say, "I'm home” like he used to do.

And here you were, looking at Ayato who had just arrived; his face showed clearly that he was exhausted, and needed rest. This can be seen from the start of the appearance of eye bags. You've always refrained from telling him all your thoughts all this time, but seeing him always come home like that, your heart couldn't bear it and decided to hold it for another day.

“Welcome home, Dear.” to which he only responded with a ‘hm’.

He then walked past you without saying anything. Leaving you alone, again.

Feelings of anger suddenly appeared suddenly. You didn't really want to feel that feeling right now, not with Ayato's current condition.

The mouth that had opened unconsciously now closed again, giving up the intention of saying a word. Maybe another day, you thought.

And here you were, lying on the bed facing Ayato's back. His breathing started to become regular, indicating that he was asleep. Doesn't he intend to sleep facing you and hold your hand just once?

Your eyes start to feel heavy, not because of sleepiness but because you are holding back the tears that want to come out. You don't want to look pathetic now.

Your hands want to hug him from behind and whisper ‘i miss you’ just once. But you don't want your ego to win this time.

Your tears just came out without your permission. That fragile body that was originally standing upright is now starting to shake from crying, your breathing is starting to become irregular and even your mouth is almost making a sound, but luckily you can hold it in.

Your hand moved of its own to wipe the tears that had come out, but a strong hand that was bigger than yours prevented you from wiping them. You vaguely see the figure of the man who has made you happy all this time, also suffering at the same time. Ah, it turns out he's still awake.

“Why’re you crying?” The audacity to ask like that after his attitude all this time.

“It’s nothing..”

“Don’t lie,” His voice was commanding. How much you hate that voice, but that voice was once your savior.

“I said— it’s nothing!” Your voice rises, your hands trying to free Ayato's grip.

“Then why’re you crying?!” Ayato's voice also rises. It was clear he was also angry.

You remain silent. Your voice wanted to come out to explain but it could only be replaced by sobs. “T- tell me..”

“Do you… actually l- love me? Do I have to die first so you can pay attention to me? Tell me.. Ayato.”

Ayato looked confused in response to your question. "What do you mean?”

“I'm sorry for feeling neglected all this time. I'm sorry... Please, forget about this.” And i thought love will always feel beautiful.

“I can't just forget this! My wife is crying,” Ayato shouted. “Look, i’m sorry for making you feel like that, okay?”

“I…” Ayato's voice trailed off. For some reason not a single word could come out of his mouth, as if he had been bewitched. “I love you. I always love you. Please forgive me. I don't know what happened to me that time. I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe because I was tired, I became like that. I never meant it like that. I just want you to know that you’re appreciated, okay?” Ayato's hand wiped away the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

#genshin x female reader #genshin scenarios #kamisato ayato x reader

[v-dkja]

take a chance with me

“Oh, why can't we for once, say what we want, say what we feel?” kamisato ayato x gn!reader. slight angst, arranged marriage, hurt/comfort, arguing, mentions of death, open ending.

Those vague memories flashed through your head; young Ayato who smiled at you. A smile that makes you willing to die for him. he flashed a sweet smile, while his hand gave you a flower he had just picked. You remember that moment well, reluctant to ever forget it.

You also remembered young Ayato's face when he found out that the two of you were engaged— and would be getting married someday in the future. You don't know whether it's a good thing or not. Actually, at that moment you felt happy, because you had kept your feelings for him, without thinking about Ayato's true feelings for you.

And here you are, waiting for Ayato— who has now become your husband, to come home. You haven't seen his beautiful face that looks like a painting by a famous and skilled painter, and you should be used to it. You wait for him with sadness, knowing that when he comes home, he won't hug you and say, "I'm home” like he used to do.

And here you were, looking at Ayato who had just arrived; his face showed clearly that he was exhausted, and needed rest. This can be seen from the start of the appearance of eye bags. You've always refrained from telling him all your thoughts all this time, but seeing him always come home like that, your heart couldn't bear it and decided to hold it for another day.

“Welcome home, Dear.” to which he only responded with a ‘hm’.

He then walked past you without saying anything. Leaving you alone, again.

Feelings of anger suddenly appeared suddenly. You didn't really want to feel that feeling right now, not with Ayato's current condition.

The mouth that had opened unconsciously now closed again, giving up the intention of saying a word. Maybe another day, you thought.

And here you were, lying on the bed facing Ayato's back. His breathing started to become regular, indicating that he was asleep. Doesn't he intend to sleep facing you and hold your hand just once?

Your eyes start to feel heavy, not because of sleepiness but because you are holding back the tears that want to come out. You don't want to look pathetic now.

Your hands want to hug him from behind and whisper ‘i miss you’ just once. But you don't want your ego to win this time.

Your tears just came out without your permission. That fragile body that was originally standing upright is now starting to shake from crying, your breathing is starting to become irregular and even your mouth is almost making a sound, but luckily you can hold it in.

Your hand moved of its own to wipe the tears that had come out, but a strong hand that was bigger than yours prevented you from wiping them. You vaguely see the figure of the man who has made you happy all this time, also suffering at the same time. Ah, it turns out he's still awake.

“Why’re you crying?” The audacity to ask like that after his attitude all this time.

“It’s nothing..”

“Don’t lie,” His voice was commanding. How much you hate that voice, but that voice was once your savior.

“I said— it’s nothing!” Your voice rises, your hands trying to free Ayato's grip.

“Then why’re you crying?!” Ayato's voice also rises. It was clear he was also angry.

You remain silent. Your voice wanted to come out to explain but it could only be replaced by sobs. “T- tell me..”

“Do you… actually l- love me? Do I have to die first so you can pay attention to me? Tell me.. Ayato.”

Ayato looked confused in response to your question. "What do you mean?”

“I'm sorry for feeling neglected all this time. I'm sorry... Please, forget about this.” And i thought love will always feel beautiful.

“I can't just forget this! My wife is crying,” Ayato shouted. “Look, i’m sorry for making you feel like that, okay?”

“I…” Ayato's voice trailed off. For some reason not a single word could come out of his mouth, as if he had been bewitched. “I love you. I always love you. Please forgive me. I don't know what happened to me that time. I’m sorry, love. I’m sorry.”

“Maybe because I was tired, I became like that. I never meant it like that. I just want you to know that you’re appreciated, okay?” Ayato's hand wiped away the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

#genshin x female reader #genshin scenarios #genshin x you #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #kamisato ayato #ayato x reader #ayato angst #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x you #genshin ayato #genshin x gn reader

[v-dkja]

about you 1975 (zhongli)

There was something 'bout you that now I can't remember

You were sure, and very sure that it was the first time you two had met. In Liyue Harbor, which is busy as usual, you walk around just to enjoy the view. And that's where you met him.

He sat elegantly with a glass of tea in his hand. Sometimes he focuses on listening to iron tongue tian—which for you is very boring. His eyes seemed to be able to trap anyone who saw them because of its beauty. And to you, he is the definition of beauty (or maybe more than it). But most importantly, being around him makes you feel familiar. It's as if you knew him deeply and were always with him.

"Looks like something has caught your attention." The man said after taking a sip of his tea. You immediately feel embarrassed after being caught admiring him. "Ah, sorry for making you uncomfortable."

The man chuckled. "That's okay."

"I'm sorry but, have we met before?" Your curiosity can't stop you from asking. And you end up regretting asking because he'll definitely think you're really weird.

The man stared at the tea remaining in his glass, his eyes showing as if he was remembering a memory full of sadness. It took him some time to answer, "You can say that."

Obviously that makes you even more curious. "Huh?"

"You haven't changed." Now he looks at you with a smile. Not the smile he usually gives (how do you know this?), but a smile of relief as if he had been waiting for a long time.

"I... I don't understand."

"Sorry for confusing you. Come and take a seat. My name is Zhongli. And may i ask what's your name?"

"Y/n. It's nice to meet you, Zhongli."

"Nice to meet you too. That's a beautiful name." And once again, you feel deja vu.

Do you think I have forgotten? Do you think I have forgotten? Do you think I have forgotten About you?

The highest peak that is like a country above the clouds is where two people who occupy the highest position among humans meet. One, is famous for its cruelty and firmness in leading. One, is known for its curiosity and courage.

"Well, what do we have here? A visitor?" His voice was booming even though it didn't feel like it was in a closed room. Anyone who hears it will feel frightened in an instant. His figure sat in a chair around a table, with a cup of tea in his hand.

"This place is very beautiful. I've always been curious about what it would feel like to be above the clouds. Turns out this is what it feels like." The happy smile was clearly visible, and somehow he felt calm seeing it.

"You have great curiosity like people say."

"And you are as intimidating as people say." They both laughed.

"Well, come and take a seat. Even though I know that we know each other's names, what's wrong with introducing ourselves? My name is Morax. And may i ask your name?"

You smiled a little. "My name is y/n. It is an honor for me to meet you, Morax."

"It is an honor for me to meet you too, y/n. That's a beautiful name."

And when they met, people believed that they would be opposites and trigger another war. And in the end, even though their personalities are different, they are always together until the end.

I think about you (so don't let go) About you (so don't let go)

Thousands or even millions of spears decorated the dark sky which filled the fear of those who saw them.

He is angry. Morax was angry, that was all anyone knew. And everyone knows that anyone who makes him angry deserves to be punished by him.

And here he is, punishing someone with his spear. While he was hugging the body of someone who was almost helpless in his arms, he shed tears. For the first time, after going through thousands of battles, he shed tears just because he lost someone he loved.

And before the fragments of that person finally disappeared and left only dust and memories for those who knew, Morax made a promise;

"I will meet you again, even in a different body and in a different place. I will always find you. And when that happens, I will always protect you."

[v-dkja]

kiss of death : eren yeager

ೃ⁀ letting someone go is always hard, and here you are, saying goodbye to the person you love so much. (AO3)

“did you know?” one of eren's hands rose to caress your cheek, admiring every curve, while his eyes admired the beauty of your face. where the sunlight hits your face perfectly, adding to its beauty.

you only give him a ‘hm’ in response to his call. you easily find comfort in his touch.

“baby, you’re so fucking perfect. i love you.” his raspy voice saying that made him even hotter. you were sure, by now he could see you blushing from your cheeks to your ears.

your desire to cover up your embarrassed face is in vain, considering the difference in strength between you is so great. “stop saying bullshit, will you?”

“i never lied about that.”

the seriousness that was clearly visible on his face made you realize one thing; he never pretended to love you. so far, people have been sure of one thing, namely that he is only pretending in his love game for you. isn't eren always like that? pretending about something and leaving it. and then he will be indifferent to the thing he has started?

“eren..” your voice calls out his name desperately. your eyes held back the tears that wanted to just come out, your body was trying to stop his touch. but your heart always says no. either he is very good at playing with other people's feelings, or maybe because you are such a fool to let him into your life.

“yes, baby?”

“i don’t wanna go.” the tears finally fell at the same time as the sound of people screaming. screams full of fear, accompanied by the groans of the titans who were ready to defeat anyone who wanted to stop them.

“i don’t want you to go,” your hand squeezed his hand tightly, trying your best to prevent him from leaving. “you promised you would come back once this was all over. but…”

“it’s dangerous, i know.” you look at him with sadness, it's like you're looking at a painting that has a heartbreaking story, he’s also look like a beautiful, tragic painting. his hair, which was now starting to grow long, almost covered his face. “i will come back.”

in an instant he kissed you, a bitter kiss that felt like goodbye even though he had poured all his feelings there. your hands easily found their way to where they should be– hugging him so that there was no distance between you.

even as the two of you were lost in that brief goodbye kiss, death was rushing towards you from time to time faster than you thought.

#istg if this flop #aot fanfiction #aot x gn!reader #aot x y/n #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader

[v-dkja]

kiss of death : eren yeager

ೃ⁀ letting someone go is always hard, and here you are, saying goodbye to the person you love so much. (AO3)

“did you know?” one of eren's hands rose to caress your cheek, admiring every curve, while his eyes admired the beauty of your face. where the sunlight hits your face perfectly, adding to its beauty.

you only give him a ‘hm’ in response to his call. you easily find comfort in his touch.

“baby, you’re so fucking perfect. i love you.” his raspy voice saying that made him even hotter. you were sure, by now he could see you blushing from your cheeks to your ears.

your desire to cover up your embarrassed face is in vain, considering the difference in strength between you is so great. “stop saying bullshit, will you?”

“i never lied about that.”

the seriousness that was clearly visible on his face made you realize one thing; he never pretended to love you. so far, people have been sure of one thing, namely that he is only pretending in his love game for you. isn't eren always like that? pretending about something and leaving it. and then he will be indifferent to the thing he has started?

“eren..” your voice calls out his name desperately. your eyes held back the tears that wanted to just come out, your body was trying to stop his touch. but your heart always says no. either he is very good at playing with other people's feelings, or maybe because you are such a fool to let him into your life.

“yes, baby?”

“i don’t wanna go.” the tears finally fell at the same time as the sound of people screaming. screams full of fear, accompanied by the groans of the titans who were ready to defeat anyone who wanted to stop them.

“i don’t want you to go,” your hand squeezed his hand tightly, trying your best to prevent him from leaving. “you promised you would come back once this was all over. but…”

“it’s dangerous, i know.” you look at him with sadness, it's like you're looking at a painting that has a heartbreaking story, he’s also look like a beautiful, tragic painting. his hair, which was now starting to grow long, almost covered his face. “i will come back.”

in an instant he kissed you, a bitter kiss that felt like goodbye even though he had poured all his feelings there. your hands easily found their way to where they should be– hugging him so that there was no distance between you.

even as the two of you were lost in that brief goodbye kiss, death was rushing towards you from time to time faster than you thought.

#eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x you #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager x you #eren yeager x y/n #eren jaeger x reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x y/n #aot x reader #aot x you #aot x y/n #aot x gn!reader #fluff headcanons #aot fluff #aot fanfiction #aot headcanons

[v-dkja]

Xianyun had learned that Rex Lapis was having the time of his life living as a mortal in Liyue Harbor, but couldn't figure out why.

She loved humanity, but upon moving to the harbor to emulate them herself, she quickly realised how wide the gulf was between immortal leisure and mortal struggles. Taxes...mortgages...customs that had been watered down through the centuries, morphing into ideals and practices that Xianyun could barely recognise. And as impressive as the Jade Chamber was (though the crane was too proud too admit it), there seemed to be a dearth of intriguing mechanisms and contraptions that could hope to hold a candle to Xianyun's own wondrous inventions.

And she had to find a job to be able to earn Mora to exchange for goods and services?! Surely even one as patient and accepting as Rex Lapis would find many of these day-to-day human tasks quite tedious, no? So then why...

She's pulled out of her thoughts by the unmistakable sound of Rex Lapis' laughter, ringing like ceremonial bells that could render even the most chaotic of crowds silent in reverence. Intrigued, she follows the sound and finds him sitting on some steps - but he's not alone.

You're sitting beside him, sidled up to him and chatting away animatedly, your words prompting even more pleasant laughter from the old god. He's feeding you little bites of almond jelly from a cup, keenly watching while you relish the taste. He lights up even more (Xianyun didn't think that was possible) when you give him a thumbs-up and lick your lips with a smile.

The emotion swirling in Rex Lapis' amber eyes...there is no doubt about it, it is love. Xianyun then notices the matching rings you and him wear, and suddenly it all falls into place.

It is you who makes even the mundane seem exciting to the god. When you have a beloved companion to brave the challenges of mortal life with, anything seems possible. Evidently Rex Lapis himself understands this, and that's why everyday, he comes home to you as the mortal named Zhongli, happily taking on the role of your husband.

Xianyun turns away from the scene, a newfound understanding dawning upon her. No wonder Rex Lapis always looks positively radiant these days.

#tsno. genshin

[v-dkja]

An Obedient Wife : zhongli

˚ ༘ .˚⏳TW୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ forced marriage, emotional & physical abuse, ooc!zhongli, pet names, trauma, kidnapping, mentions of “guizhong”. (lmk if i missed some and if there’s any grammar mistakes!!)

Zhongli had always been a good husband, at least that was what others thought.

His very handsome face can attract anyone who sees it, his muscular, dashing and ideal body always manages to seduce women.

Whoever managed to get him was the luckiest person, that's what they thought. And you really want to deny it outright.

“Good morning, my love.” A deep voice that echoed in the room greeted you and made you startled. You, who were cooking for yourself and your husband, Zhongli, immediately stopped to give him a hug as a morning greeting. “Good morning, babe.”

Zhongli happily returned your hug. Your hand is now touching his. Cold, that's what you feel. The coldness made you a little surprised and made you have to adjust to the touch of his hand.

His hands were cold, as usual.

He was the one who ended the cold hug. His amber eyes which always watched your movements were now looking at you sharply even though you’re his wife now.

“Wife, i'm going somewhere after this.”

“Huh? What about the breakfast i made?”

He played with strands of your hair, then kissed it. His gaze remained on the strands of your hair that he was holding.

“You have to eat it alone as usual, you don't mind it—” he's looking at you now, and it feels like a threat. “—Right?”

“Yeah… yeah of course.” You looked down to hide your pathetic face. “… as usual.” your murmurs as small as possible.

He lowered his head to whisper in your ear. "Don't try to escape, or i’ll punish you.”

You flinched slightly at that, then tried to adjust your expression. "Of course. Why would I run away?"

Hearing the answer he wanted, he then let go of a strand of your hair and smiled. “Alright.”

You looked at zhongli who turned around and walked away from you. You can only stare at him, without being able to say anything.

“…..” silence fell for a few moments, that’s before you decided to let out your voice, preventing him from going any further. “Actually, zhongli…”

His steps stopped. Without looking at you, he replied, “yes?”

Suddenly your heart beats faster than before .“Um…” you play with your fingers. “Can i… can i see my parents?”

There was no response from him yet making you scared. “Just this once, please.”

“Neverm—“ Before you could process what was happening, zhongli's hand, which had always been worshiped by women, now gripped your hair. Making you unable to do anything other than groan in pain and ask him to let go. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry—" The apology that you have said many times like a mantra has no effect whatsoever like a mantra.

“Don't you have an obligation to do here? Live with me, serve me, and give birth to my children. Is it just a blur in your stupid brain?” His voice rose, a sign he was angry.

“Im sorry, my love. Im so—“ Before you could finish your words, he dragged you by your hair and took you to a room. The room that zhongli called "your room".

“W- Wait, what are you doing, zhongli?! WAIT— no, no, NO!! DON’T, DON’T DO THIS AGAIN, PLEASE. DON’T GO!”

An expression you couldn't read—either because there was no lighting or it’s because you’re too low to be able to see it—was the last thing you saw of him before he locked you in that room.

You banged on the door, hoping he would have a little mercy to open the door. “PLEASE, OPEN IT!” Even your cries weren't enough to make him have compassion. Is it necessary to crawl or bark like a dog? Or kiss his feet to get him to move?

“I– i don't want to do all this. That stupid wedding you've been planning ever since we met. I hate this. I hate you.”

“What's wrong with you? Guizhong always obeys me. Of course, you should be like that too.” Guizhong, again name of the woman that always slipped out of your mouth. ‘Is it always her who comes to your mind when you see me?’

“I’m not guizhong! Stop all of this and wake up! You have to accept the reality!”

“Did you kidnap me at that time in the hope that I would behave like that guizhong, the person you love?” Silence, no answer from him.

“Please… open this door…” your voice that was too weak to scream was now pleading.

The sound of his retreating footsteps indicated that he had left you locked in your room.

In the end you have to accept the fact that as long as it’s thunderstorm tonight, you will always be locked in your dark room. And with windows without curtains that will always show lightning strikes. And that's what guizhong always do, be obedient.

#zhongli x reader #yandere zhongli #zhongli #zhongli x you #zhongli x y/n #yandere genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x female reader #genshin impact zhongli

[v-dkja]

Don't bite.

wrote this on a whim, i need to chew on that man!!

Dry pen scratching against paper and another exasperated sigh from him as your molars imprint their shape onto his fingers once again, most of his hand covered in the marks of your handiwork (mouthwork?) of the past 10 minutes.

He counts 26 minutes and 32 seconds of you happily sitting in his lap and not bothering him. A new record, he's been keeping track in a personal journal meant just for you and your behaviour. Among other things... You had begged and nagged and pouted with that sweet face that he annoyingly seems to be getting weaker to rejecting as of recently, to cuddle. He says he has no time for this, he has better things to spend his time on than to hold you and endure your cooing and poking. More than half the time, you end up partaking in antics like this, drooling all over his hands and making his fingers go half numb.

Your canines drag and poke at his thumb, then to the conjoined skin between his thumb and forefinger, sharp little teeth digging just a bit too hard for his liking. "Quit it." He presses his thumb into your cheek, just where your molars meet between your jaws, a stern warning to quit your childish games and let him work. You stop, for which he merely sighs to as your teeth finally let go of his sore hand.

With his hand finally free from your jaws, he reaches for his desk drawer for more ink, taking an ink cartridge out of a small jar and pushing the drawer closed again. He doesn't miss the way you seem to stare at his hands as he unscrews his pen and pulls out the empty cartridge, putting the new one in place before screwing his pen back up. You always seem to watch his hand movements so intently, he'd find it amusing if not for the fact his palms and fingers are always left wet with drool and teeth indentations. He doesn't like wearing gloves around you, you like the way his hands feel around yours, without the barrier of fabric separating skin from skin. But he might have to consider it again, just to punish you a little for your constant nibbling.

He settles his chewed on hand on your waist once more, where it was originally before you decide to use it as a chew toy. He gets back to writing his experiment notes, deep in thought finally, before his train of thought is once again wrecked as you take his hand into yours. You just can't seem to leave them alone... You press his fingertips to your lips, making his fingers twitch, before you move on to nuzzling against his palm, pushing his fingers into your hair as you practically hug his arm. Are you more in love with his arms and hands than he? So irritating you are... He sets down his pen as you move his fingers to your lips again, this time parting your lips to nibble on his fingertips. He tentatively pushes his fingers just a little into your mouth, the graze of your teeth against his skin again forcing a small shiver up his spine. Before he grows annoyed with all your chewing and nibbling, and forces every inch of two of his fingers into the back of your mouth, making you gag and quickly try to pull his hand away from your lips.

"Told you to quit it, didn't I? You should listen to me more." He turns his head to look down at you sputtering in his lap, a bit of drool escaping your mouth as he pulls his fingers out after feeling around your teeth. The corner of his mouth twitches just a little as he uses his thumb to roughly wipe away the drool from your lips, ignoring your protesting whine and squirming as his "wiping" only smears it over your chin and cheek. "Keep these antics up and I'll be requesting a muzzle to be added to my necessities fund." He flicks your forehead lightly, shifting in his seat and adjusting you in his lap in a way that restrains most of your movement, your arms held together to your chest by his single hand as he takes up his pen again, intent on finishing his work before paying his full attention to you. "Now keep quiet and stop squirming, hm? I'll make sure to find something to occupy your mouth after my work is finished."

[v-dkja]

Look, but don't touch. [ Harbinger Edition ]

— You're the only one who's allowed to touch him. Likewise, he's the only one that's allowed to touch you.

— Childe, Pantalone, Scaramouche, and Dottore

[Masterlist]

Love Language Series | Touch [ Here ] | Actions | Time | Words | Gifts

This is written before the Sumeru quest. Harbingers are their own warning.

This was a fever dream, incredibly self-indulgent, don't talk to me about this ok. Honestly don't even wanna tag people in this (´。＿。｀)

Tartaglia

Childe is friendly but he always keeps himself at arm's distance from anyone who isn't his family. The kind of guy that acts like he loves everyone but he truly doesn't like anyone. Always polite but never kind. He won't be outwardly hostile if one of the cicin mages decides she wants to try her luck and cuddle up to him, he sort of admires her bravery, but the hardened stare and indifferent response are awkward enough for anyone to bail halfway.

So what a surprise to everyone when it's Childe himself that pulls you into him. It's not a friendly hug either, he quite literally drags you into his embrace as soon as he sees you, locks his arms around your waist, and spins you around. Before he catches himself and gently settles you down and pretends as if he didn't boldly announce to everyone that you're special.

He is a harbinger at the end of the day so any intimate relationships he has need to be hidden lest he puts you in danger. That said, he doesn't do a very good job. He gets agitated and fidgety if he can't hold you, longing gazes in your direction even if someone else is speaking to him about something important. Whether it's shooing specks of dust off your shoulder, a tap on the arm, or the brief brush of your fingers against his whenever he hands something to you. He always finds some way to touch you.

It's always the worst and best time to speak with Childe if you happen to be there. On the upside, Childe is more likely to give his approval to whatever his subordinates ask just so they go away and leave you both alone. On the downside, because physical touch somehow makes Childe drowsy and almost drunk, he's useless.

It wasn't always like this. During your first months as something more than friends, not quite lovers, he kept you at an arm's distance just like everyone else. Only the occasional arm over your shoulder or a hand on the small of your back, just enough to show you that you meant something to him. But over time, those touches began to linger until the dynamic shifted and he began to rely on your touches to keep him sated. On particularly stressful days, he'll pull you aside into his office with a rushed excuse to just hold you in his lap. He's recharging, don't make tease him.

But he's not a selfish lover. If you need comfort or just want to be held, he'll gladly throw his plans out the window just to spend time with you. What's wrong? Did someone upset you? Want me to take care of them? He'll offer anything to make you feel better while you're cuddled up to him and it makes his heart flutter when you say you just want to stay beside him. He has a bad habit of resting his entire weight on top of you if you're both ever lying down. All that muscle is heavy but sometimes it's comfortable until his elbow accidentally digs into your side.

Childe can be polite if someone else wants to touch him but he's baring his teeth at anyone that has the audacity to place their hands on you. If someone bumps into you? He's fine, accidents happen. Someone moves you to the side? Whatever he won't throw a fit over that. He believes in the below-the-shoulder, above-the-waist, hands not included, rule. If anyone touches you, it's the only time when Childe will throw his reputation out the window.

Scaramouche likes to compare him to a dog and he'll gladly growl and bark if that's what it takes for people to get the hint and leave you alone. He'll slide his arms around your waist, tilt your chin up, and without any concern about the scene that this will cause, kisses you deeply. All the while sending the nastiest glare to the person that touched you. Look, don't touch. You're his.

Childe likes to believe that he has self-restraint. He's a soldier first and foremost so he has discipline beaten into his bones. But right now he's close to snapping the pen in his hands and hurling it into that bastard's forehead. He can feel Ekaterina's concerned gaze on him, shifting on her feet nervously, as she struggles to push through her explanation of his assignment quickly. Unfortunately, it's all white noise to Childe as all of his attention is on the cicin mage whose being a bit too friendly for his liking.

"Lord Tartaglia?"

Of course, you don't blink twice at it. He's seen how that loud electro pirate dotes on you and is overly physically affectionate herself. Maybe he should also fight her as well after he's done dealing with this cicin mage.

"Childe?" Ekaterina tries one last time, using a more familiar name to see if that would catch her superior's attention but alas, he was too busy glaring daggers into her college. Ekaterina raises a hand to lightly tap on her superior's shoulder to get his attention but just as her fingertips brush against the fabric of his uniform, Childe's death glare is directed at her. She flinches away from the otherwise easy-going Childe, her mask doing little to hide her startled expression.

"Sorry, sorry, not meant for you," Childe blinks away the hate from his ocean eyes, coming to his senses as he runs a hand through his hair, "What were you saying?"

"There is no need to apologize, Lord Tartaglia, I overstepped," Ekaterina, bless her heart, waves off the sudden aggression but takes a step back. Before she can continue, she overhears you saying goodbye to the mage and your footsteps coming closer. A small surprised noise escapes your chest as Childe pulls you into his arms immediately. If she didn't know Childe, she could almost say his expression was a bit cute with how pouty he was being. Although the look in his eyes says otherwise now that she was just on the receiving end. This seems to be a common occurrence because you just giggle and hug him back just as tightly.

"Please don't harm her. She was just being nice," you mumble into his chest.

"I'll think about it," he says, his eyes never leaving the mage.

Pantalone

On the one hand, the banker always carries this prestige that makes most people stay away in awe. No one wants to get on the wrong side of the man who basically funds the country of Snezhnaya. On the other hand, Pantalone has an ethereal beauty that compels people to come closer and touch. To see if the porcelain skin is real, feel if he's muscular or lean under the heavy fabric, or sneak a peek at what colour the banker's eyes are. It makes you kind of giddy knowing that this man belongs to you. That you know the answer to all these speculations.

You aren't sure when it started happening but at some point, he always ends up sort of mindlessly touching him. Placing a hand on his arm or knee, running your fingers through his hair, or gently rubbing away the stress from his shoulders. There wasn't an ulterior motive, Pantalone was just too handsome that you can't help but touch him just to make sure he's real. He thought you were overexaggerating a bit but he seemed deeply pleased at your confession since it was coming from you personally. That egotistical bastard.

But he always reciprocated your touch. Offering an arm for you to hold onto, brushing the hair out of your face, or rubbing small circles into your hand. Small gestures of affection would occasionally lead to more. The fact that Pantalone of all people let you be this close was something you secretly prided in yourself. You couldn't help but rub his newfound privilege in front of anyone that got too close that this elegant man was yours to hold. Look all you want but you're the only one that gets to touch.

You weren't aware of Pantalone's level of aversion to touch until he almost caused a scene at a gathering. It was meant more for looks and reputation, the occasional business talk, but overall a lax evening. One of the ladies thought it would be a good gesture to place her hand against Pantalone's arm. A bit flirty but innocent enough that the sheer disdain that swirled in Pantalone's eyes made her flinch away surprised. He struck her hand away, the sound carrying through the now-silent ballroom as everyone turned to the sound. You were surprised as well that Pantalone of all people, the image of control and ever-smiling, lips turned down into a repulsed scowl. Your feet quickly moved over to him, quietly excusing the woman for her careless act, and ushering her away before anything escalated. No one spoke of that night.

Ever since then you've always kept your hands firmly glued to your sides lest you feel his anger. If you happened to brush against his finger you would splutter out apologies and scamper away. If you felt his hand hover near you, you always assumed you were in the way and quickly moved aside for him. Overall, you acted as if it was you that was uncomfortable with touch. With each passing day that you fled from his hand, the crease in Pantalone's frown grew deeper.

It comes to a head one night when you get to see how Pantalone's aversion to touch applies to you as well. Occasionally some wealthy noble will host a gala and as one of the Tsaritsa Harbingers, Pantalone will be required to be present for at least one of them. Given his status, most of the attendees flock over to him which leaves poor you to meander about and find something to do with the time. Despite being his lover, you're not privy to what goes on with his work and frankly, the business talk and parties bore you. At least these places have food.

He sees you conversing with a man he knows is from Liyue, hoping to find more investors and trade partners here in Snezhnaya. He's already spoken to the man and rejected his offer so that's most likely why he's speaking to you, the banker's partner to garner sympathy. Although from the looks of things, you don't seem that impressed either. You notice his stare, perhaps his expression betrays him because your eyes grow concerned before giving a polite bow and turning to walk away and to him. If that was all then perhaps tonight wouldn't have ended so badly.

The man grabs your arm painfully enough for you to whimper and that's all Pantalone needs. He doesn't even try to hide his expression behind a smile, his lips set into a straight line. He grabs the man's arm tightly, the leather of his gloves crinkling from the force, and he nearly breaks the man's arm. How dare this inferior social climber put his filthy hands on you. You have to plead with him to let the man go, desperately trying to pry his grip away as the businessman begs the Harbinger on his knees that he didn't know.

Pantalone-

Pantalone is pissed.

You've never seen him this angry before. The lady all those nights ago doesn't even compare close to the anger radiating off him. His fingers flex still as he leads you away into an isolated hallway. You're not even sure if he knows where he's going, completely blindsided by rage. So you quickly step closer and throw your arms around him, stopping him in his tracks as you bury your face into the soft fabric of his suit.

"It's okay. I'm okay," you whisper softly into his back. You're not afraid, he won't get angry, not with you. Never with you. But it still pains you to see him this way. You feel more than you hear his deep sigh before slowly turning around and taking you into his arms. "Thank you. I didn't mean to start anything, you just looked displeased and I got worried. Oh, I'm sorry-"

You quickly move to shuffle out of Pantalone's hold but you can barely get two steps back before his touch grows firm and you're trapped. Despite how strong his hold is, he gently tilts your chin up so you can look into his pretty eyes. He really does have a nice eye colour you think in the back of your mind.

"You've been avoiding me. Care to enlighten me as to why that's the case? Did someone feed your mind with little lies?" Pantalone sounds coy but you can hear the undertone of worry. As if he's done something wrong which you quickly shake your head to.

"W-Well, that incident with the lady from a few weeks ago, the one in the red and black dress, you looked really angry when she touched you so..." you trailed off as your eyes look at anywhere that isn't the man in front of you, nervously twisting the cuff of your sleeve. When you actually hear it back it does sound a bit ridiculous to believe that but you just didn't want to make him uncomfortable. Or make him act a certain way just because you liked physical touch or to uphold appearances.

"And you thought you were comparable to people like that? That I would allow special treatment just because you were mine? That I would reciprocate to anyone but you?"

You fumble a bit at how honest his words are, searching for some way to justify yourself but at the end of the day, you'll knock your head against the wall for how stupid your logic is. So you stand on your tip toes and reach hesitantly up towards his face. Pantalone's face reminds neutral but he slowly leans into his touch, his muscles finally relaxing just by your touch.

Scaramouche

How the hell he tolerates you is anyone's guess. How the hell you tolerate him is Celestia's guess. He has the worst attitude, is quick to anger, flaunts his authority wherever he goes, and is overall a terrible person to be around. Yet every time he looks over his shoulder, you're always one step away from kicking at his heels. Which you have accidentally done before and somehow survived so he must like you a smidge. You tell him it's because it's out of spite that you're still here and spite is a powerful feeling. He of all people should know.

Scaramouche despises anyone being within his personal space, which is already a pretty big range, so the idea of someone touching him is repulsive to him. If he somehow was in danger and someone touched him in order to save his life, he would probably throw a fit and shock them. Their only reward is that he doesn't kill them. It's not like he has to worry too much, no one really wants to be in his presence longer than they have to and any admirers are quickly turned off within the first couple of seconds. Which makes it all the more baffling that you still hang around him and test just how far you can poke his limits.

The first time you touched him was by accident. Someone had bumped into you causing you to fall into Scaramouche. Luckily for you, you managed to put your hands out first and brace yourself against the wall but you had successfully caged the Balladeer between your arms. If you weren't currently fearing for your life you might have laughed at the horrified expression on the Harbinger's face. The only reason you survived that day was that Tartaglia chose that exact moment to waltz in and frankly, he was a far bigger headache than you were.

He's not sure how you managed to worm your warm into his cold non-existent heart but at some point, he got used to your presence in his life. A few words to take care of himself, extra paperwork being filled, or shooing away other soldiers so he could have space. All of these acts of kindness were met with half-baked insults and suspicious looks. Every time he asked you why the hell you were acting like he was some helpless doll you always answered the same, you just felt like it and he looked like he kinda needed it. Which was so baffling to him that you managed to walk away with your head intact.

It started off with small things. Like you're both feral cats that are trying to co-exist in the same alleyway. You always announce your presence, give him enough time to leave, and your touch is barely there. You never do anything close to intimate, never hold his hand or hold his face, and he never reciprocates ever. Although it speaks volumes when he doesn't push you away ever. You're always nearby, sitting close, and you both exist contently.

But just like a feral cat, with enough time and love, even they will begin to grow comfortable and domesticated. The look on his subordinate's face was hilarious when little old you waltzed over to the sixth harbinger, plopped down into his personal space, and literally sprawled yourself over his lap to see what he was looking at. Just to one-up the absurdness, Scaramouche didn't seem bothered in the slightest, only calling you an idiot for not being able to read the document that was right in his hands.

Although there are some downsides to being so close to Scaramouche. He's possessive with the power the enforce his pride. You have to constantly scold him that he can't go frying anyone that comes within two feet of you. It's hardly efficient and it's annoying having to scream just to know what time it is.

The you from years ago would have balked at how casual you were speaking with the infamous Balladeer.

"All I'm saying is you sound like a possessive maniac," you huff, your arms crossing over your chest as you frown down at the sitting man. You doubt he's even paying attention to you because if he isn't throwing spite around then he's filtering you out of his mind. Scaramouche barely acknowledges your words, still fiddling around with the Electro Archon's gnosis. It gives off faint sparks of electro every time he rolls it over his fingers but he doesn't give any signs of pain. Maybe because he's an electro-user? Either way, he's obviously not listening to you. You let out a loud sigh before shrugging and turning on your heel to walk back into the camp. Suddenly, his hand shoots out and latches onto your wrist and he's yanking you down. The you from years ago would have fainted seeing you sprawled over your superior's lap. As your vision tilts to the sky you can't help but think that for such a small body, he sure has a lot of strength. He wears a bored expression, his other hand is cradling his head while his elbow is on his knee, before a nasty smirk makes its way over his face.

"Yeah? So what?" Scaramouch says, his hand stopping to firmly hold the gnosis, though now one of his hands is now settled on your hip. You blink. Huh, you...weren't exactly expecting the ever-prideful Balladeer to blatantly admit that.

"Well, the "what" is that it makes it incredibly inconvenient to talk to anyone. Everyone avoids me like the plague because their scared you're doing to kick down their door and attack them," you pout, grumpily adjusting your head to lay on his knee, "Also you need to eat more. You make a horrible headrest."

"That's fine. You won't need anyone else," he says dismissively.

You open your mouth to say something but the look in his eyes makes you falter. He's serious. A mixture of a past memory, the present moment of you both together, and a far-off dream all dance in his eyes. It's a look you've never seen before on Scaramouche's face despite how long you've worked under him and you can't help but be mesmerized by it. It's likely the first and last time you'll ever see him be honest. But it's quickly over as his eyes morph into snarky glee, his lips pulling into a mean grin.

"You look stupid."

Il Dottore

People are downright terrified to even be in the same room as the infamous doctor. There's never a safe moment and anyone could be the next test subject depending on his mood. It doesn't matter who it is, even his own segments, if someone touches him that means they've just volunteered to be his next experiment. It's suffocating when Dottore is out and not locked in his lab because everyone need's to be hyperaware of where the doctor is located in the room. So to say that Dottore tolerates you is a massive understatement.

He actually quite likes to parade you around, almost like you're his newest addition to his collection. Touch isn't a problem for him if he's the one initiating it given how often he's dragging you around like you're some pet. He's not gentle in the slightest, nearly pulling your arm out in his crazed rush to show you his newest creation. You would joke and say that in moments like these, he's the one that acts like the pet. Too excited to show its owner its newest achievements. But you have a sliver of sanity in your mind so you keep your mouth shut.

Every moment with Dottore is a warped sense of time. You've been with the Doctor for a long time, before he became a Harbinger, and you don't know how your relationship progressed to this stage. You're walking on a tightrope of old colleges that are too intertwined with history to be separated or co-dependent individuals that need death to finally leave each other. So when he touches you softly, affectionally, you stumble and fall off your rope. The mad doctor laughing from above, arms still outstretched from where he's pushed you.

Half of it is madness, and half of it is out of genuine love. Although, to Dottore, madness and love are the same things. His acts of affection are spontaneous and equally as fleeting. One second he's rattling off medical terms and theories, pauses in his rant just to give you a deep kiss no matter who's around you to witness the act, and proceeds as if nothing happens. That's not to say you don't enjoy it when he decides to reward you, you just wished it wasn't in front of so many people. You suspect he does it on purpose.

There's no softness or quiet time aside from the very very few and far between moments Dottore decides to indulge you. He's a busy man, his mind only built for progress, and he has better things to do than to play pretend. But for you, the one who forcibly carved space into his heart, he can make arrangements. Only for a short while. Some days he may hold you as if you'll shatter if he squeezes any harder, other days he'll push your hair away from your eyes quietly, and one day he kisses you as if you're something more.

Unlike Dottore, you don't have an intimidating reputation. People can touch you if they want to. It makes you a bit happy when Childe will pat you on the back or ruffle your hair cheekily. He's also one of the few who can get away with it as well since Dottore can't physically harm him for touching you since he's a fellow Harbinger. Besides, people speak with their eyes more. Since that doesn't qualify as anyone touching you, Dottore won't do anything. So they stare.

They stare at how the Harbinger holds you in a special place. You aren't remarkable, you're the same as the rest of them. Yet you're untouchable and invincible from the man who can change their entire lives. Mistakes occur frequently when Dottore is in the room, the slip of a finger because everyone is too focused on staying out of the Doctor's way. You get to stand beside someone like that.

It's been a hard day. A very hard day. You're absolutely exhausted and ready to curl up into a ball as soon as you get to your room. You aren't even sure what exactly happened. One second you were doing your job and the next your head was on the ground with a pulsing pain on your right cheek. It's not unusual for patients to lash out but under those circumstances, they don't have anything to do with you intimately. You know what people think about your relationship with Dottore. What people who only glimpse into the relationship you have with him think. Usually, they stay silent, only judging you with their eyes but always silent. That is until nearly 10 minutes ago.

"You're late."

You barely react when you hear his voice. Of course, it's him. God, what bad timing. He's the last person you want to see right now, especially in this state. You only give him a nod and mumbled out apologies, stumbling over your feet like a newborn lamb when his hand latches onto your wrist to drag you off again. You think you might have his fingerprints as bruises now. Another thing people can mistakenly think about your relationship. You only know you're crying when you hear the splatter of your tears against the tiled floors and Dottore's footsteps come to a halt. His grip on you has gotten tighter.

You're startled out of your wallowing when warm hands cup your face, brushing your tears away. His gloves are off. When did he take them off? Dottore simply looks at you as you silently cry. You're too tired to apologize, too tired to break down in sobs. Your arms hang uselessly at your sides but you close your eyes and lean into his touch.

"Give me their name."

He whispers it softly. You think back at the girl that struck you. You think she's new, she has to be. You know that if you say her name, you won't see her tomorrow. But you're too tired right now. So with no hesitation, you volunteer her to become the next test subject.

[v-dkja]

⌗︙・yuuta is a whiner ⸜⸜・

yuuta is a whiner and he whines whenever he can't fit his cock into something. he doesn't like saying that he's big but he says it in form of his whines.

"these boxers are too small." he whines. you turn around to meet with his tip keeping out of his boxers, making him look so cute. he stands with his hands on his hips, just begging for you to say "that's because you are so big, yuuta."

or whenever you are buying condoms. he whines next to you as you look for different condoms, and every time you find some, he whines the same old song "that's too small for me." he's loud with it, he wants everyone to know that he's able to satisfy you with his girth.

the only difference is when he fucks you.

"it's too big. slow down." you moan as he fucks his big cock into your pussy. he doesn't slow down, in fact he goes even harder and faster.

"too big? that's a shame. you will take it."

he always cums inside of you because all of those condoms were too small for him, of course. (and they would tear anyway because of how much he cums)

[v-dkja]

CURSED SPIRIT — y.o

⛤ curse!yuuta okkotsu x fem!reader

yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!

wc: 1.2k

a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)

Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as he’s whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. “Not now…” you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuuta’s hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. “need you ‘s bad” he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.

Curse!yuuta who doesn’t mind your sorcerer friends as long as they don’t get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you can’t help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. “Please yuuta..” you whisper to him “Come on you can cum on my fingers..” his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.

Curse!yuuta who watches an “old friend” hug you, his hands in places that shouldn’t be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning “Next time I’ll break his arm” “You can’t be serious” you sigh, you always knew he was.

Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he can’t be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuuta’s anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. “I-i have a boyfriend-“ praying yuuta doesn’t get violent “I don’t see him?” His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now he’s on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didn’t see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? “Pathetic” Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasn’t the first time.

Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he can’t exist without you, he’s nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that he’ll be all alone. He didn’t care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. He’ll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. “We can talk about this tomorrow” his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldn’t stand the feeling.

Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you don’t leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he can’t wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. “Please don’t hate me” “i love you so much” as he’s softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. He’s kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. “Yuuta” you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. he’s burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you won’t be mad at him and you can forgive him.

Curse!yuuta who can’t wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but he’s rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. “Yu..?” You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. “I don’t want you to hate me” “forgive me please” as he’s thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. “Yuuta!” You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didn’t hurt him because you could never hurt him he didn’t mind it.

Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, he’ll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. You’ll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldn’t cum anymore but you did as he’s plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room “Need you-need you tell me you love me…please f-forgive me..ah!” Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. “I-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at you” Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.

Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance you’ll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though he’s nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse it’s just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesn’t know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just can’t help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.

Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. “Just a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! I’m just displaying my love for you—“ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You don’t think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.

[v-dkja]

─ ✰ LOVER’S CURRENCY!

✧˚ · . ITOSHI SAE’S sneaky way he shows he cares!

— warnings: fluff, crackfic, whipped sae, maybe ooc?

— author’s note: guys this is my first bllk work please spare me, comments and tags are very much appreciated!

“itoshi sae.”

you cross your arms with a pout, hovering over him intimidatingly as he peels one eye open, lazily draped over the couch.

“hm?” he cocks his head slightly, a ghost of a smirk tracing over his lips. sighing in exasperation, you attempt to reassert your point by rather agressively squishing his cheek with your finger.

“you did it again.”

“did what?”

it’s infuriating. he’s feigning ignorance, choosing to act clueless when you know he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

the edges of his lips are the slightest bit upturned, a faint twinkle of mischief in his eyes, subtle details easily missed by the casual onlooker. but with you, he’s an exposed canvas, an open diary— you can read him like a book.

“don’t play dumb, sae, it’s not funny!” you whine, digging in your purse pocket, and grabbing your wallet to pull out a shiny, black credit card— his. you hand him the card, wordlessly demanding him to take it back. but of course, itoshi sae wouldn’t be itoshi sae without the theatrics— eyeing the card smugly as he gives it a once-over.

“that doesn’t look like mine.” you roll your eyes, done with his shenanigans as you huff in mild annoyance. seriously, he acts like such a child sometimes.

“how many times have i told you i can pay for things myself? and i want my card back too.”

this time, he’s the one to pout.

“don’t wanna.”

you’re about to retort something back when he pulls you closer by your waist, earning a yelp from you as you crash on top of him, letting out a small ‘oof’, his long limbs trapping you in place.

“what the— sae!” you grumble, and although it’s half-assed, you choose to squirm in his arms, still rather annoyed at his (endearing) habit of deceiving you into spending his money. still, he snuggles into you, letting out a small sigh of discontent as you keep wriggling around.

“would you stop that?” he scowls slightly, although he’s not really mad. “‘m trying to get comfortable.”

begrudgingly, you surrender to the warmth of his embrace, relenting to the pull of his affectionate cuddles, but not without flicking his forehead childishly first. he huffs brattily, but all complaints disappear as he feels your arms slinking around his neck, nuzzling into his chest.

“i hope you know i’m e-transferring you your money back.” you mumble under your breath as he delicately traces shapes on your skin. he abruptly stops, prompting you to look up at him in confusion.

you don’t expect him to suddenly jab at your sides sides, playfully assaulting your stomach as he continues his onslaught, generating a shriek of giggles and pleas to stop from you. you kick and squeal, but his grip is like iron, targeting all your ticklish spots.

“s-sae, please, i didn’t mean, i-it, i swear—”

you manage to gasp out, completely pooped out from laughing so hard, and after five, long, painful minutes, he finally relents, allowing you to catch your breath as you glare at him, face flushed, panting heavily as you attempt recover from his utterly ruthless attack.

“i swear, if you weren’t so pretty-” you start, but you’re cut off by a rare laugh. small, yet entrancing all the same. his eyes crinkle, letting out a tiny chuckle as he gazes at you with pure adoration in his crystalline teal eyes. your heart races in response, the sheer sweetness of the moment causes you to liquify into a puddle.

…you suppose it wouldn’t be the end of the world if you let him get away with it just this once.

©kaeffeinee 2023. do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works on any platform.

[v-dkja]

𝗳𝗼𝗼𝗹'𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 - 𝗽𝘁. 𝗶𝗶

That virgin albedo and reader smut was fucking perfect, it was fucking beautiful, it was realistically awkward, I fucking loved everything in it. Now I wanna know if they manage to create a baby? I've heard some couples say they had to do 'it' multiple just to be sure. Just imagine Albedo noticing and acknowledging the almost visible baby bump every time reader visits him (Idk if it's safe for her to visit dragonspine with her condition)

Etsu, my dear, you really got in my head with this ask. I know it was like, three months ago that I promised this part two! But!! It's finally here!!!

For anyone who hasn't yet read the previous part, here! ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰

warnings → 18+ (minors & blank blogs dni), no explicit scenes but there’s a lot of suggestion; use of medical & anatomical terminologies; description of vomiting & nausea, & a couple of near-death experiences through cause of embarrassment; not beta'ed (i'm 'eepy (_ _  ) . . z Z).

character mentions → jean, sucrose, kaeya, aether & paimon, bennett

word count → 9.8k

Lately, you’ve dreaded mornings. Today is no different.

It hadn’t been so long ago that the sun peaking through your curtains meant just another day of peace for you and the people of Mondstadt. Gone were the days of cowering beneath the belly of a corrupted dragon and within your homes to avoid being swept away by its fierce winds— it’d been so long where you were even able to enjoy having your lunches atop the Knight’s headquarters rather than in your office; you had been grateful.

Glaring over at your window, you find yourself wishing the sun would fizzle out of existence. You’d wished your curtains could be as black as the depths of the Abyss, and that the nest of chirping birds sat outside of your window would finally “fly the coop”.

Every little sensation seems to exist solely to set you off and create a mood you’d been stuck in until late in the evenings, and every little movement had only made the strange nausea you’d been experiencing even worse than normal. It’d been for the latter reason why you’d begun to keep a large pot at your bedside, as for whatever unfair reason, you’d been struck with a case of morning sickness so debilitating that after your first attempt of crawling to the toilet bowl before last night’s midnight snack could be expelled and was expelled, you’d learned your lesson.

Still half-tucked in the sheets of your bed, you shift in discomfort, a strange burning sensation ripples beneath your tongue. In your haste to sit up, you become tangled on your way to reaching for the pot, yanking it unceremoniously from your bedside table and into your awaiting lap— and, just in time.

Eyes squeezed shut, you start heaving over the rim, chin hanging inside the bowl of the pot, and with a trembling left hand, you keep your face clear of obstacles and—

Gross, gross, gross, gross… the colour, the smell, the sound it makes from all the water you’d consumed since before falling asleep— you vomit once more from the sensory overload. Heartburn would follow indubitably afterwards; a side effect to a side effect, and no amount of medicine would subdue it.

At the very least, there has always been the calm before the storm continued, a lull in which you could get out of bed and tend to yourself before the rest of the symptoms could appear. And so, you finally rise, having swung your shaky legs over the edge of your mattress and dragging the sloshing pot along with you to dispose of its contents. You hold your breath and squint, eyes open only wide enough for you to ensure your vomit spills safely into the toilet bowl.

“Gross,” you repeat, voice rasping.

It’s been almost two weeks of this… With a face cloth you’d used from last night, you run it beneath cool water and practically slap it against your face, unflinching from the amount of water dripping from it and onto yourself. Just how much longer can it possibly continue for?

Somehow, it didn’t even occur to you the reason why you’d gotten sick so suddenly. The sudden exhaustion, the sudden aching in your chest, the sudden morning nausea— because of it, you’d been late to work almost every day since. The acting Grand Master had been sympathetic; as things have been surprisingly quiet in regards to the records department, Jean encouraged you to take your time and to rest well before attempting to work.

“We may not say it enough, but we really do rely on you, and appreciate what you do for us, ______. Please, rest well.e”

Of course, you knew that they did. Some of the knights certainly might not be as vocal as others, but the sheepish smiles of apology they wear when they hand you a new pile of field reports or copies of finance charts proved enough. Even when Grand Master Varka was still around, he’d throw “thank you’s” at you like candy, too the point where it got so sickeningly sweet that you had to beg him to stop.

But Jean’s reminder of all of this, when the knights are so overextended and too tired to muster even a fake smile, is also enough. That’s why you’ve been resting as much as possible, returning immediately home when the clock tolled for the seventeenth hour, doing minimal chores around your abode in an attempt to surplus your energy and resting in bed immediately after that, so you could return to them healthy.

But is this what death feels like? Has some strange illness crept into Mondstadt? Was that sweet honey chicken from Good Hunter you ate last night not cooked thoroughly enough? Or…

Your thoughts stutter when your eyes move from your mirror to out you door, and land on a wooden board hung up above your night stand. Memories, as many as you could nail to it, resided there. Receipts from your favourite lunch dates with your friends and coworkers; a ticket from a popular opera performance you attended, put on by the famous Yun Jin; and, photos taken with the new Kamera model, gifted to you on your last birthday. Vividly, you could remember the events of each day that the pictures took place in.

The one of you and the other department heads, captains, and Grand Masters, was one you struggled to take, in the sense of timing; everyone had been everywhere, yet you managed to find a split second for them to come together for this single memory. And so you’d set the timer, ten seconds for everyone to get into position, and in the last two seconds, poor Mika had just managed to sidle into frame next to you wearing a tired, photo-ready smile.

Another photo had been Kaeya’s attempt to take a front-facing picture of himself with you, asleep at your desk, your cheek resting on the ink stamp pad— a second image had also been taken, of you waking up and taking in the situation, followed by a third of you attempting to catch Kaeya as he ran away and back to his own office (lunch was purchased as an apology, and you had made a copy of the photos for him), all strung together in chronological order.

There are several miscellaneous photos about, too, such as of you and some of the cats at the Cat’s Tail Tavern and some scenery shots from all over Mondstadt. But the one that catches your attention and instantly has your tired, thoughtless brain piecing together your symptoms is the one you’d taken on a timer of you and Albedo out front the doors of his lab, you, with your arms crossed and smiling, and he with his arms down at his sides, unsmiling, but his expression kept a warmth to it as in the picture, he’d been looking at you.

Even the thought of being the object of his affection brought heat to your cheeks. Somehow, during your illness, you managed to forget what the reason behind yours’ and Albedo’s curiosity had been — is he capable of reproducing? — and by extension, the list of symptoms you knew you had to watch out for. Considering they began almost two weeks ago now, and all you’ve done thus far is let it cripple you for half of your mornings, rather than make a visit to an apothecary or report your symptoms to either Albedo or Sucrose (who’d been brought up to speed on what the experiment entailed, and, despite her explicit embarrassment, had been asked to be available for result submissions while he remains out of the city for the next three weeks).

Maybe she’d been why you hadn’t bothered reporting anything to her— in trying to save face and spare the both of you from an awkward conversation, you’d kept your less than mild symptoms a secret from even the Acting Grand Master to make sure it didn’t get around that you were a sickly mess. Yet somehow, you’d forgotten along the way that morning sickness, of all things, is a clear sign of pregnancy. How you managed to let yourself stay ignorant these past couple of weeks frustrates you; to spare yourself even further, you easily deign to blame it on the confusion brought forth from your constant nausea. It’s been almost seven weeks since then, ______, you tell yourself. Otherwise, you’ve finally reached a point of clarity, enough to remind you of your responsibilities and how you’ve neglected them.

Even your reflection looks peeved. Or maybe it’s the lingering nausea.

You spit your soured saliva into the sink, drawing your gaze away from the mirror discouraging reflection of you and toward focusing on brushing the taste of bile and yesterday’s dinner off your tongue. Upon reentering your room once you’d finished the rest of your morning hygiene routine, you dare to gander at the small clock resting atop your windowsill, and sigh.

“Ten after eleven,” you mutter, yanking your pyjamas down your trembling legs. “A new record of tardiness.” Nude, you cross to your armoire and pull together a simple, comfortable outfit. So far, half of your wardrobe had managed to offend you by being too rough on your skin— it made you feel claustrophobic, oversensitive, and you’d wanted nothing more than to see them burnt to ashes—

A rhythmic knock on the wood of your door startles you from your flame-fueled daydream. Carefully shoving your arms through the sleeves of your shirt so as not to over-exert yourself, you make your way down the steps from the second floor, holding onto the banister to stay balanced. You end up pulling the door open halfway through the same pattern of knocking, revealing a familiar tanned face.

“Well, good morning.”

You can’t help the frown that settles deeper into your face at the rehearsed smile Kaeya wears— rehearsed for your sake, because the last time he showed up here out of the blue to check on you, you looked to be near death, and he certainly didn’t bother to hide its obviousness.

“… I think I’d rather you be grimacing at me like before,” you admit, shaking your head and stepping aside to allow him in. “You know, potentially holding back your own vomit, perhaps? Somehow, I think I’d be less offended...”

A dry, hesitant laugh escapes him as he shuts the door behind him, and almost nervously, he glances around your foyer, eyes flitting past the wooden arches and into the small kitchen, toward the mess of used dishes and pots by your sink and the numerous wrapping articles stemming from your lack of energy toward cooking— in recent times, you’d been the Good Hunter’s most loyal customer.

“Still ill, I see,” he notes quietly awhile following you back up to the second floor. Though, in your small apartment, it’s easily heard. “It hasn’t gotten any better?”

“Nope,” you mumble. A strange smell suddenly punches the air ahead of you, one that you cautiously sniff at and almost immediately, you recognize it. Having sat down on your bed again, boots in hand, you pull them on and pull up on the zippers, one by one; “I don’t know how much more I can take resting like I’ve been. I’m tired of being tired.”

“Then why not visit a doctor?”

“Because I don’t need to visit one…” Because it’s not a doctor I need to see first, you think. “Honestly… I probably know what it is, but…”

“Oh? A stomach bug, perhaps?”

You’ve never had to summon so much willpower to not laugh before as you do now.

“Yes… m-most likely.” From his place, leaning against your front door, arms crossed, and only one visible eye lidded in scrutiny at you, of which you take notice of from the corner of your own eye, you can only assume the experience hardened Cavalry Captain knows you’re hiding something before it finally clicks. “Kaeya—”

“Yes?” You scowl at his instantaneous reply.

“I should’ve asked this sooner, but I’ve been seeing you quite often at my front door lately. Just why do you keep coming over?” This time, he doesn’t immediately answer.

“… to check up on a subordinate, of course,” he finally says.

“I’m not your subordinate.”

“A subordinate.”

“I don’t belong under your regiment, nor any regiment, for that matter— I run my own department.”

“We still work quite closely together, though, wouldn’t you say? And, we’re friends.”

“Then why wasn’t that your first answer, over “subordinate”?”

“I—” he stops himself from speaking any further, lips painting a thin line across the lower half of his face.

“The truth would probably be easier,” you point out. “It’s funny, though, because you’re usually so careful about these types of things…”

“Sorry?” You hold back an annoyed breath.

“You smell like broth.” At the confused look on his face, you quickly add, “Not food broth. It’s a chemical used in laboratories. Like, Sucrose’s, for example.” And you raise an eyebrow at him. “Kaeya.”

His sigh is long and drawn out, and rather absentmindedly, he begins playing with the feathers of his cape.

“Fine. You caught me.” You scoff at his sudden petulance. “I overheard a conversation between Sucrose and Albedo from a few weeks ago… about an experiment the two of you had been involved in together.”

“A-And what about it?” you inquire hotly— Just what did he overhear?!

“I was right to assume that you wouldn’t say a word if there’d been anything to report about it— not to Sucrose, at least. Albedo, however… Well, I’m sure I’m not the only one to have noticed, but the two of you have been thicker than a pair of thieves lately, even more so than usual. I don’t think I’ve seen him so reluctant to have to return to Dragonspine before.”

While you wish you could argue each and every one of his observations — damn that Kaeya and his stupidly keen eye! — even you had to admit that the chief alchemist had been acting increasingly out of character. From his task to Sucrose, to short handwritten letters delivered to you every other day meant to ask for any news, and even the small argument the two of you had gotten into over him remaining in Mondstadt to watch over you, instead— Kaeya insinuating your sudden closeness to him isn’t far off at all, which is exactly the opposite of what you’d hoped would happen.

“… obviously you visited Sucrose for a reason,” you say after a minute of silent deliberation, “and clearly it’d been for a long enough time that you now smell like a portable laboratory. How much did you overhear that day? Because for you to go to her out of curiosity, it must’ve been because you heard enough.”

Kaeya clears his throat lightly, and to your horror, his own brand of blush rises atop his sharp cheeks. “That… indeed, is the case.” Lips parted to speak, you struggle to even find the proper words to say, but only the most uncouth sputtering is conjured. Not knowing what your reaction will be, Kaeya steps forward, hands raised in defence of himself, “Don’t be embarrassed—”

“”Don’t be embarrassed”?!” you exclaim back at him— you instantly reel, your head spinning from having suddenly raised your voice. “… t… there’s nothing more embarrassing than this.”

“Just… stay calm, ______…” Kaeya shakes his head, an awkward chuckle tearing itself from its throat. “I… For once, I’m at a loss for words…”

“You say this like it’s a bad thing,” you mutter.

“I suppose it’s not… but… I’m simply… surprised. Can I ask why?”

“You just said you were at a loss for words!” you grumble. Pushing yourself off your bed, you snatch up your satchel from the end corner bedpost and your cloak from the standing coat rack, and move Kaeya and yourself in the direction of the downstairs exit.

“But why all of a sudden like that? Really, I could say it isn’t like you, but it’s truly not like Albedo at all—””We got curious,” you hiss, interrupting his speculation.

“Of what?”

“None of your business, that’s what.”

“Of what having sex feels like?” You nearly drop your house key, your hands trembling. “After all, you did once tell me that you were still a—”

“Sure, Kaeya, that’s exactly what the curiosity was all about! Not that I couldn’t have gone and experimented with anybody else or anything like that.” Hoping that by his silence, your answer has placated him, you take the time in the quiet to finally, successfully, lock your apartment. You’re quick to travel down the staircase, each step creaking loudly beneath you as you move, and stirring Kaeya from his thoughts.

“No, that wouldn’t make sense for the good alchemist to do,” he mumbles behind you, “so then it must have something to do with his research? Oh. You did just say “experiment”, didn’t you? Hm… an aphrodisiac, perhaps?”

“Archons alive…”

“Yes, yes— did he make you drink anything? Eat anything? A potion to improve one’s libido— now that would be a fascinating experiment.”

“That sounds like a terrible thing to make,” you shoot back, shaking your head at him. “You want a stronger libido?”

Kaeya chuckles at you, and you immediately realize you’ve spoken incorrectly.

“Are you implying that yours is strong enough? Or, his? How did he perform, anyhow? I can’t imagine he’s had much practice.”

“Oh, not quite so unlike yourself, right?” Kaeya chokes out a cough at your knowing glance. “”Mondstadt’s number one bachelor”— do they know you’ve yet to even enter a relationship? Talking about a stronger libido… Perhaps you should use the one you have now and go from there? Or, attempt courting someone first— Barbatos knows you already have a plethora of fans waiting for an opportunity to jump your bo—!”

Rather harshly, he’d reached next to him to clasp a hand over your mouth and behind your head, an attempted non-nervous laugh fleeing past gritted teeth and a fake smile— the fellow knight that passes the two of you by whilst on his morning patrol raises an eyebrow and shakes his head, secretly curious, but not enough so for him to desire receiving any similar strange behaviours from the Ordo Favonius’ Cavalry Captain as you, their records keeper, just had.

“Suppose it’s a bit too early for that kind of talk, hm?” Beneath a clammy palm, you can’t help but snicker at him. Hypocrite.

“Maybe,” and you drag his hand away. “I know you’re a busy man and all, Kaeya, but there’s no harm in pursuing a relationship, or even something more casual if that’s your fancy.”

The two of you manage to sigh in unison in time with beginning your ascent to headquarters, yours sounding more relaxed now that you’d managed to subdue Kaeya’s curiosity. But it’s not like you couldn’t understand it— if you were in his position, you’d likely be nosey about it, too.

“There’s just… no one available for my interest, is all,” Kaeya relents. “And besides, who has time for new relationships, with all the work to do in fixing up Mondstadt?”

“Hm, not even with that Traveler? It seemed like you two hit it off as friends fairly easily. I don’t see why—”

“-_____!”

In your attempt to begin matchmaking your friend, and your remaining sickly stupor that had you leaning into him, you don’t immediately register that it’d been your name to be called until it’s shouted once more. You flinch, head snapping up to the top step in front of headquarters where an… unfortunately familiar face stands.

“S-Sucrose,” you end up stammering, and your entire body jerks to a stop. “W-What are you—? I-I’m… surprised to see you outside the laboratory…”

Quickly, you hustle up the rest of the steps, and though it leaves you winded, you’re at least energized enough by the embarrassed heat that flooded you from Kaeya’s own knowing look as he followed the two of you down the cobbled street.

“I visited your office to find you, but one of the guards said you hadn’t arrived yet today. I got worried, a-and came to find you, but it seems Captain Kaeya found you first. But you look terrible, ______— I-I mean! I-I didn’t mean to say it like that, I—”

“No, no, you’re right; I do look terrible,” you murmur. “I… It’s something I’d actually like to speak to you about, Sucrose…”

“Oh? If it’s a cold, I do have a special recipe I once created, though it will take a few hours to brew, and I believe I am out of Slime Concentrate…”

“W-What a shame it is, then, that you’re out of Slime Concentrate…” You hold back the gag you’d almost released upon recalling the experiment you and Albedo performed after the experiment— What a texture… “But no, it’s not… a cold. It’s actually about what you and Albedo spoke of a couple of weeks ago.”

“A couple of weeks ago…” Sucrose pauses at the bottom of the stairs to headquarters, a hand on her chin, and while still lost in her memory recall, her skin tone begins to clash with her mint green hair. “Oh!! About… the experiment you and… Albedo… c-conducted, right?” You nod, albeit hesitantly. Kaeya hides his chuckling with another cough. “Then, we probably should head back inside to the laboratory… Though, I would’ve asked you to come with me there, anyway.”

“Hm? What for?”

“Well… because Albedo is here in Mondstadt today.”

You could have fainted. You should have fainted— it might’ve gotten you out of having to face not only Sucrose, but the man you both dreaded having to see, and desired to see almost painfully so.

The time the two of you spent in his mountainside laboratory had been lengthened by how severe the squall raging outside it had become. You’d thought yourself clever for having thought to pack so aggressively, being warned of Dragonspine’s unpredictability by one of your coworkers upon mentioning your intent to visit Albedo there. And so, half a day became half a week, the two of you surviving off of the squishy treats you’d brought along as a gift, hearty stew made from what ingredients Albedo had left near the entrance to his laboratory, and an assortment of dried fruits you’d prepared the week prior in preparation for your journey.

The events of what had transpired over the course of those three days and nights, varied. That non-freezing adventurer’s water you had theorized over, and that Albedo had concocted a solution and balanced a formula for, had been completed faster than you had expected. With his next planned experiment put on hold until visibility improved, he thought to fill his time with you.

“There isn’t a guarantee that doing this once is enough for the sperm and the egg to take,” he’d explained. “I once read that persistent copulation is sometimes necessary in receiving positive results… If you feel you’re well-rested enough, shall we go again?”

… and again, and again, and again…

So deeply lost in your own thoughts, your mind’s eyes replay those shared moments, recalling just how unexpectedly lascivious Albedo had grown since having his first taste of sexual intimacy with you— no, that’s incorrect. The sudden change in his expressions, from the usual cat-like curiousness you’d been accustomed to seeing in him, to the purest form of lust and desire upon receiving your affection, true affection, and not emotions forced by the parameters of an experiment— the change in the Chalk Prince had been instantaneous, and it had been something you could never deny. You, nor anyone else who has crossed paths with the alchemist, has ever witnessed anything so lewd and wanton from him.

And you, alone, had been the honoured one in his reciprocation.

It doesn’t even register that you’d entered the Knights of Favonius’s headquarters until you bump into a soft object. Blinking quickly, you realize you’d run into Kaeya from behind, simultaneously taking in the familiar chess flooring pooled around your feet. In its recent cleaning, you spot a bit of your reflection through a black tile and quickly recognize the expression you wear to be of a flustered nature.

“Hm?” Kaeya glances behind him and at you in time to catch you rubbing at your cheeks. “You alright, ______?”

“Yep, and I don’t want to talk about it,” you’re quick to respond. Eyes flit across your face and with a shake of his head, Kaeya snickers. “Sucrose, is Albedo in the lab with you today?”

“When I left him to find you, he had still been in his office,” she explains from ahead, “waiting for… you.”

“Oh,” is all that you manage to say.

“B-But, I figure that I should ask for a blood sample from you today, since it’s been a little over two weeks… Albedo wasn’t… happy, that you haven’t been reporting in anything, j-just to warn you…”

“Well!” You jump at the abruptness of your male companion, hand over your chest to comfort your startled heart. “I suppose I should be saying reporting to our Acting Grand Master for late duty,” Kaeya says. Your scowl, it being your first instinct to send one his way, quickly morphs into an expression of surprise.

“What? This wasn’t your break? Don’t tell me you just skipped out on working, Kaeya? Wait, no— you used me as an excuse to skip out on working, didn’t you? Wait, even worse! You’ve done this eight times in two weeks! Kaeya!”

He peers down at you, and in his failure to mask his amusement, “I was simply performing a good deed on a quiet day, where my talents would have been wasted sitting behind a desk to write a non-existent report. And look at that! I saved you the trouble of having to file it!”

“Quiet days, you mean? And, it’s my job to file reports,” you grumble at him, sighing. “If not for your actual talents as a knight, I would never understand how you became a captain…” With a sigh, you finally relent. “… I should check in with Jean, too, before I go with you, Sucrose.”

“Sure.” She nods. “I’ll meet you in there.”

Eyes stuck on her retreating form, Kaeya has to nudge you back into focus.

“Now who’s using who as an excuse?”

With your left hand’s knuckles stinging from where it connected with Kaeya’s clothed bicep, and Kaeya aggressively rubbing at the very same spot, the two of you enter the Grand Master’s office a moment later after receiving permission to enter from the female voice inside.

“______,” Jean greets you, rising from her seat and rounding her desk to meet you and Kaeya. “I’m glad to see you’re looking a little better than how I’d left you yesterday. Are you feeling any better?”

Your chuckle is dry. “I wish I could report that this was the case, ma’am, but seeing as I’m this late today, well…”

“That’s… a fair point. The good news is, things have been rather quiet here in terms of any reports, so please don’t work yourself ragged trying to get them all done in one day?”

“I—” your sentence catches in your throat, and instead, you laugh again, knowing full well of your intentions to completely them before you had to return home again. “Yes, ma’am; I’ll take my time.”

“Good. Then, you are dismissed; I also hear Albedo is looking for you?” You nod. Jean smiles warmly at you one last time and nods before directing her attention onto your blue-haired escort. “As for you, Kaeya…”

The man gives you a fleeting look of desperation, not having expected Jean to actually start chastising him. You offer a slight shrug and a short wave of your hand before fleeing the office in search of Sucrose.

Once or twice, I could understand, but almost ten and without telling our Acting Grand Master? Out loud and away from your thoughts, you click your tongue mock-disapprovingly, but in fact, you were utterly touched that Kaeya would risk reprimand just to check on you. You hadn’t asked him to, after all, and yes, he’d just been a good friend for doing so, but his choice, his punishment. I hope he doesn’t actually get in trouble, though… not for me. Well, maybe I’ll treat him to something nice later as thanks.

You’re quick to climb the grand staircase within headquarters, taking a sharp right up the stairs to the second floor to the alchemy wing. There, and two floors above your records office, one would find both the laboratory and Albedo’s office, and thankfully, for safety reasons, there’d been nearly a whole half building of difference between even those two rooms. Any accident within the laboratory would give time to spare any materials and or documents within Albedo’s office with a simple defence rune activated by a danger trigger, courtesy of the Knights of Favonius’ Magical Inquiry Division Captain.

The laboratory would be the first room one would encounter on their venture into the west wing, the door adorned with a simple sign of caution to those wanting to enter it. Not that many did besides the two people under Albedo’s apprenticeship; Kaeya, apparently, whenever he feels nosey enough; Grand Master Varka, when he’d still been in Mondstadt, but more likely for his own personal curiosities of alchemy; Jean, as the Acting Grand Master, and actually for the purpose of her duties; and, you, whenever you’d been in search of Albedo, also for your own personal reasons.

Quite suddenly, your chest decides to squeeze when you’d reached for the handle. Wasn’t it just anxiety? You’re only visiting Sucrose; you won’t be seeing Albedo until after your testing gets done. So then, a premonition?

Having dawdled enough, you twist the knob and shove the door forward. Heavy, it creeks upon its hinges to announce your arrival. Not bothering to open it all the way, you slip in through the few feet wide space and shut the door behind you with a bang. You spin on your heel, an apology hanging off your tongue for Sucrose for the loud interruption, when the air in your chest catches in your throat— at least this time, it isn’t due to the scent of broth.

“Oh, ______. There you are.”

You startle easy, greeted not by the green-haired alchemist you’d been entrusted to, but by the man who entrusted you to her, and swallow harshly, the flesh of your cheeks quick to bloom with warmth.

“A-Albedo,” you stammer, hand pressed against your chest when you exhale. “Hi.”

“Hello. I was about to come looking for you; Sucrose mentioned that you arrived and met with Jean. I was just about to come and find you.”

“O-Oh, I…” You mentally curse at your unintelligibility, but his appearance had caught you just that off-guard. “Sorry, I— I was expecting Sucrose.”

“I had a task I needed to delegate that she has assisted me with before, and she offered to assist me again. So instead, I’ll be overseeing this… belated check-up.”

Your lips instantly drop into a tight-lipped frown. He’s upset, you realize, tiptoeing further into the laboratory. Ugh, I should’ve just come sooner. He can probably already tell something’s wrong—

“Come in; take a seat here, please.” You do, having just passed him as he sets up multiple objects on a metal tray, shuffling back on your behind until you hit the backrest. Albedo spins, clutching the tray tight to transfer it to the table closer to you, and his eyes flit upwards to examine your pallor. “______, you look pale.”

“Oh, I’ve been a bit under the weather lately,” you tell him. Spotting a stethoscope on the tray, you begin willing your heart to calm down. It doesn’t.

“For how long? Sucrose didn’t mention anything in her report,” Albedo hums, glancing to a clipboard. “It only mentioned that you had taken time off.”

“Only Jean and Kaeya knew about this, and Kaeya had only found out due to his own curiosities… And, um, for about… two weeks now...”

There is a brief pause from the man that has you correcting your already-stiff posture, your spine hitting the wooden backrest hard enough to have you jolt even straighter— “I’m sorry. I’m… I’m sorry I lied in those letters to you. Honestly, I… I don’t know why I decided to do that. I didn’t want you to worry about me, o-or something like that… I’m just… I’m sorry.”

Albedo finally looks to you, his eyes having been pointed down at his clipboard for so long that you began to fear something potentially greater than disappointment from him. What’s worse than disappointment from Albedo, though? a part of you wonders woefully, and it had been right. Because his promise to you that he would not leave you on your own through any of this venture was made with a conviction that blazed brighter than the fire burning in his caveside laboratory the night your fools’ experiment took place.

And once more, like when you’d assumed wrongly of him that same night, you’d managed to slight him again by denying him your candor.

A comforting hand extends toward you all the same, to rest itself on one of your shoulders.

“If, subconsciously, you’re thinking yourself to be some kind of burden to me by reporting every little change in your health, or if I’ve burdened you by tasking you with reporting to me, then… I apologize.”

Your shoulders sag at the realization, and you raise a hand to hold his.

“Albedo, n-no, it’s nothing like that at all— I promise. I just… really didn’t want you to worry about me when you’re so busy, especially as something as small as this. I was going to tell Sucrose today about everything, so she could justify me bothering you with a detailed report.”

“I like hearing from you,” he says, and squeezes your hand in return. “No matter how small… I like being able to stay in touch when I’m so far away from Mondstadt. Even hearing about the most mundane things of your day, I find joy in. But hearing that you’ve been ill and on your own in taking care of yourself… I would’ve come back sooner.”

“But that’s what I mean. What if it’s just a cold? Then it’s nothing I haven’t already handled before, and I would have just inconvenienced you.”

“And what if it’s not?” he counters— you knew he would, the second you stopped speaking. “Symptoms of influenza or symptoms of pregnancy— should it matter?”

“I… no… but also, yes— I-I get where you’re coming from here, Albedo, but the second I would find out the results, you know I would’ve contacted you immediately.”

Albedo shakes his head. “Your well-being has always been important to me— now, even more so, and for obvious reasons. It doesn’t matter what it might be. If you’re feeling unwell, please tell me.”

“I…” You weren’t going to argue, even before you’d been on the receiving end from his stern expression, but you go tight-lipped, only spewing the answer you know he wants to hear. Because he’d been right, after all. There hasn’t been a time where he hadn’t shown concern for you— not before that day, not when you’d been scaling Dragonspine and braving both the cold and one of its resident Frostarm Lawachurls, and not when in the throes. And you couldn’t bring yourself to deny him that. In fact, finally accepting the truth of it, yourself, “Okay.”

Partial frustration transforms into a look of relief on Albedo, and in response, you exhale, experiencing the same sense.

“I’m going to take a listen to your heart, now.” Albedo pulls his hands from yours to grab the stethoscope from his tray, your own curling into your lap in wait for him to begin examining you. Earpieces fitted gently into the curve of his ears, “Could you lift your shirt for me?”

“Y-Yes…” You pull at the material of your blouse until it untucks from the waistband of your slacks, holding it high above your navel and sitting a little more upright when he presses the larger of the two circles beneath your left breast.

His fingertips, neutral in temperature like the rest of him, brush across your abdomen in absentminded wait— you’re not sure if he realizes he’s doing it or not, but you don’t ask, already still so nerve-wracked at seeing him sooner than you’d planned. It hadn’t only been out of the guilt from not keeping him apprised on you that you weren’t ready to see him— no, it had been the fact that throughout your illness, and despite the effects your symptoms had on you, you just couldn’t stop replaying your time with him behind your eyes.

Albedo’s hand shifts the diaphragm along your skin to rest against the sideward swell of your right breast.

“Your heart rate just increased,” he notes aloud. You swallow harshly, and avert your eyes when he tries raising his gaze to yours. “______?”

“… it’s not because of my symptoms,” you murmur, and busy yourself in watching the gentle simmering of some green liquid over on the furthest table.

“… would you indulge my curiosity if I were to ask, then, what it’s from?”

Your lower lip quivers as hot anxiety courses beneath your flesh, and you pin the trembling thing down between chittering teeth.

Wordlessly, Albedo continues, a haggard silence having come down on you and your forced patience. He listens to your uncooperative heart from three more points before he shifts behind you, only to pause.

“You can lower your shirt on your end, ______,” he says. You nod, releasing the material and letting it fall back into place. “I’m going to listen to your breathing now.”

What awful timing, you irritably muse, as when he lifts your shirt up without proper warning, your breathing hitches. And instead of pressing the stethoscope against you again, you feel the cool relief of his palm on your ribcage; a gesture meant to comfort.

“You’re extremely warm… ______, are you in any pain?”

It does anything but.

“Your breathing is a bit shallow, too— have you been experiencing any shortness of breath?”

Because I’m ill? “No,” you answer. Because of you? “Yes.”

When Albedo hums in contemplation — a habit long since formed — you immediately note his confusion, and sigh at him.

“I’m tired,” you inform him. His hand draws away from you, a slow drag across flaming hot skin. “Constantly. I don’t normally sleep in because of work, but I’ve been unable to wake up unless I get a minimum of ten hours of rest. I have migraines so often that I just sleep even more. I ordered traditional Liyuen medicine to be delivered last week and it’s been my saving grace. My lower back… is always so sore, and I’ve used the bathroom more in the past two weeks than I might have in an entire month. And if I even smell Fisherman’s Toast again, I will vomit. Oh, I’ve been doing a lot of that, too,” you add. “Like clockwork, every day at eleven in the morning.

“But my shallow breathing, fast-beating heart have nothing to do with those.”

You heave one last heavy breath before slumping back against your chair, but instead of solely meeting the backrest, you hit the plush of Albedo’s chest. There’s a tickle against your cheek when he leans forward over your shoulder, his bangs dangling to invade your space, a gesture you return when you lean further into him; you reach up for him, targeting his closest ear, and pulling the stethoscope’s earpiece from it.

“It’s you,” you whisper. “I’m hot and bothered because of what you did to me… and I can’t get it out of my mind.”

The stethoscope comes untethered from his opposite ear, clattering to the floor; you hear the glass shatter. You’re more surprised that with his expert reflexes, Albedo didn’t bother to catch it— but you can understand why, since you’d just unbuttoned and slipped off your blouse with your lips pressed to his jaw.

“______,” Albedo calls to you— shaky hands find their way to your shoulders, your biceps; they anchor to you so strongly that you can’t tell if he’s trying to encourage you or stop you. “______…”

“What, ‘bedo?” You pull your shirt away, dropping it to the side. “You don’t want to?”

“I… We… We should… take blood samples first…”

“First?” you echo, leaning forward out of his grasp and glancing back to see his eyes blown wide and his pale cheeks flushed like the reddest rose. “I don’t think an hour difference will make the probability of me being pregnant by you any higher or lower…”

You turn back around, and rise out of the seat to instead straddle the stool. Draping your arms over his shoulders, you pull him close, and smile.

“Help me out with that belt again, would you?”

Pure silence coats the entirety of the laboratory now, a stark, black and white contrast to what made up that same hour spent filling it with such lascivious noise— even making the comparison after noting the difference has pink crawling across Albedo’s cheeks again. It’s quiet again, after all. And in waiting for the results of the test done to your blood, there hadn’t been much else he could distract himself with.

You made it difficult, after all. Not in an aimless sense, of course— sure, the very first time the two of you engaged in an act of coitus, your inexperience shined, one guiding the other and vice-versa into the throes of pleasure and painless copulation. There were several times post-”loss-of-virginity” that you ended up taking the lead, and not for the fault of either of you, but there’d been something about you taking charge that had Albedo’s head swimming with thoughts of you while he’d been on his lonesome in Dragonspine, waiting for a proper reason to return to Mondstadt without being questioned— he would return for you, after all. In a heartbeat.

In his attempt to shake off any further inappropriate thoughts, his head tossing left to right, he catches your attention with a raise of your brow.

“Something on your mind?” you muse at him, unable to hold back a chuckle at his deadpan stare your way. His pursed lips and rouged fleshed are a dead giveaway.

“Nothing worth mentioning,” he’s quick to reply, voice cracking partway through. You laugh again, a little more heartily, when he moves away from you and toward the desk. “… the solution should be ready to use now.”

“Okay.”

According to Albedo, blood testing for the purpose of pregnancy discovery isn’t particularly common— in fact, it’s an entirely new concept that not many have adopted. It would certainly change how the medical practices across Teyvat would treat similar cases, but according to him, it would be a while until it could be universally adopted. The more data recorded using it, the sooner it would.

Two experiments in one, you think as you watch Albedo use a dropper to collect the liquid to drop into the vial of your blood. He sets it aside, grabbing for a thin glass stir stick of sorts to combine the two.

You find yourself watching him, for his reactions, rather than for whatever reaction the solution would cause. The flutter of eyelashes as he blinks in incredulity; every small twitch in the muscles around his jaw as his lips part dubiously; how his shining turquoise eyes have somehow managed to grow a little brighter, a little wider, a little more… more…?

“______… look.” He gestures down at the table with a nod of his head, but and you have to tear your own eyes off of him. Within the vial, it is no longer the dark red you remember it had been only seconds ago— considering the solution had been clear, the sudden change in hue made zero sense.

“What… am I supposed to be seeing?” you ask, eyes narrowed at the vial. “Why is it blue?”

“The colour change,” he explains, breathless. “It wouldn’t have changed if… you weren’t pregnant.”

“I…” You look back to Albedo, eyebrows teetering the border of your forehead in disbelief. His head whips your way, his own eyelids blown as physically far apart as possible. “It… worked…?”

“It… did.”

You reach up for him, a single hand rising from your side to hold onto his shoulder. Too many emotions have made themselves known to you, all too quickly to register without dizzying you; Albedo holds your hand in its place before it can slip away, his eyes never leaving yours.

He can tell how deeply you’re allowing yourself to process the news. Maybe, he figures, you thought it wouldn’t work at all. To not believe in the possibility after not only the time spent together up in Dragonspine, but all of the time shared with one another before then and in the past three years— maybe, you were still concerned that he might not live up to the promise made to be at your side through not only the experiment, and not only through the pregnancy, itself, but for the years after.

You never questioned anything past said promise. You never assumed he’d go and break it on you, either. If anything, him being busy with his assigned duties, personal research, and Klee (of course) hadn’t been something you would hold against him, and quite comparatively, you already had much more time on your hands thanks to your early morning to late afternoon position. And being that you are the lead of your own department, it would be so simple to bring your child into work with you. You’d have your office in the records department set up to your convenience. And, if you ever needed a moment to yourself, you’re quite sure your fellow Knights would have no problem doting over your child in your place. And with any luck, the child would be mild-mannered like its father, and as it grew older, it would be inquisitive, insatiably curious, and indubitably kind.

No, you could only be so honoured in having a child by this wonderful man.

“I-I…” It should go without saying, considering how ecstatic you’d been to hear Albedo reciprocate your affection, albeit in the chalk prince’s typical brand, how happy you are to learn that the experiment is to bear such sweet fruit. But it startles him to see a tear slipping down each of your cheeks.

“______?” Without hesitating, as he might have done two months ago, the alchemist reaches for your face, brushes them away, and holds it in the palms of his gloves. You sniffle, a small, choked noise quick to follow, before you laugh. “… ______?”

“These… These are happy tears, I swear,” you say, your grin between his hands only a little compromised by how intensely he holds you. “I-I’m so happy right now that… I don’t know how to properly express it with words. Hehe…” You raise your hands from your lap to cradle his cheeks. “It worked. You can procreate! Haha!”

Albedo’s gaze averts from yours, and beneath your bare hands, you feel his skin grow warm before you see it tint pink. Still giggling, you lean forward, fitting your lips between his smiling, parted ones, before they travel along and up to his forehead. Hands dropping to loop around your waist, your own shift when you wrap your arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

“We’re going to have a baby,” you whisper. A knock on the door of the laboratory stirs the two of you, both pulling away to find the other grinning.

“Yes. We are.”

“I told him that it wasn’t necessary to go out of his way and commission the Guild for this— please; I’ll pay you three for your troubles, but this really isn’t necessary!”

“What do you mean it “isn’t necessary”?!” You sigh, the naturally high voice of the Traveler’s floating companion somehow a little louder to you than usual. “Walking around like this even outside of the city walls is dangerous for you!”

“Paimon, dear, I think you’ve seen me sitting behind a desk for far too long, since you’ve forgotten that I am a qualified Knight!”

“But it’s a little different now, isn’t it?” Bennett offers— you turn your head to the boy so fast that he winces. “I-I mean, you’ve got two people to protect, r-right?”

“I just went up Dragonspine last month; that’s not that long ago,” you try to reason, but even Aether puts his foot down, hands on his hips and golden eyes lidded by, what? Annoyance? Disapproval? Your own frustration blinds you to be able to tell the difference.

“You weren’t so obviously big last month, and even that was a risk you shouldn’t have taken,” he says. “Albedo wasn’t happy about it.”

“Yeah! He’s right!” You huff at her. “Albedo’s just trying to take care of you when he’s not here to do it himself!”

“And isn’t this a good way to do it, too?” Bennett says, grinning. “We protect you, you stay safe, we get paid, and Albedo gets to eat those delicious-looking sweets you made him! It’s a total win-win situation!”

“If I make you some, will you let me go alone?”

“No,” both Aether and Paimon chorus. You click your tongue at them, your frustration thickening.

“Don’t be selfish like this, ______,” Aether adds, and just as you’re about to chastise him— “Do you really think Albedo’s the only one worried about you?”

“If it helps in any way,” Katheryne calls from across the street. You all turn toward her, you folding your arms and resting them across your swollen gut. “This commission is backed by the entire Knights of Favonius— the Acting Grand Master signed it, herself.”

“What?! That Jean, I swear— what a worrywart!” You groan, loudly, startling unsuspecting passerby’s and a hopeful Bennett. “Fine! Fine. I’ll let you join me. The… company might be nice, anyway.”

“Glad you see it our way,” Aether says, nodding. He gestures away from himself, a slight bowing to his posture when he bends, and Paimon copying him with a giggle. “After you.”

“You all are… too much.” Clutching your cloth lunch bag just a little tighter, you stalk past the three of them, shaking your head and managing a thin smile when you hear their soft chuckling.

“Hey, ______?” You glance back at Bennett, who grins guiltily and sheepishly at you. “Would you still make some more desserts for us after…?”

“Mm… no.”

“Aw, man…”

You hadn’t been wrong; the company was nice. Compared to the usual time taken, thanks to a couple of element users being able to traverse through the various Waypoints of Mondstadt, the time taken was cut significantly short.

Typically, your journey through Windrise and up past the Adventure’s Guild’s checkpoint is a comfortably solemn one. Being able to reflect on oneself and enjoying the fresh air, warm sun, and calm winds that the autumn months bring along is always so refreshing. Indeed, it beats being cooped up in the records room where only artificial light existed.

This excursion was something you’d been looking forward to since two weeks ago, when you’d first planned it. Another recipe crossed your path thanks to a convenient mention of it within a Knight’s report— and their verbal gushing over it. In you receiving one-and-a-half days off each week, you often spend the “half” bit catching up on chores and errands, while the full day is spent doing whatever you needed to reset your mind after such a long week.

Lately, if not preoccupied with other plans, you’d been bringing Albedo new dishes to try. This had been your usual routine, normally using him as a test subject of sorts whenever he’d been visiting Mondstadt, with the occasional trek into Dragonspine if you got too restless. This normalcy had gone on for a while, with no question of it by Albedo. Of course, this had only been because you’d managed to hide the fact that your stomach could no longer fit within the parameters of either your blouses or your turtlenecks.

The fascination had been instant— as was the scolding. Albedo didn’t hold back, either. The only reason he stopped was due to Klee’s unexpected arrival.

Don’t think this conversation is over, ______. You endangering yourself to deliver me food is worth getting upset about, under normal circumstances and especially in your current condition.”

In hindsight, contrary to your point in that argument, it was slightly silly. He would’ve returned to Mondstadt eventually and you could have given it to him then. Was it the hormones affecting your ability to think straight? While Albedo and one of the church’s sisters did mention it could be a possibility, you clearly weren’t heeding the warning of watching for any impulsivity from you. Traveling somewhere so dangerous? Alone? With no Vision? If that didn’t scream “impulsive”…

Despite the sheer cold of the place, you took great joy and pleasure of visiting it if it meant being able to see Albedo. And as you turned the corner from the Waypoint closest to his cliffside laboratory to see Albedo’s back turned to the cave’s mouth, once more sketching away on a new canvas of his, your grin is uncontainable. You turn, gesturing at Paimon and the two boys tasked with delivering you to Albedo to hold back for “just a moment” so you could attempt to surprise him, but to your surprise, and you yelp when you realize it— he’s already looking out of the cave mouth and at you, hand raised in a gentle wave.

Defeated once more, just like you’d been that day, you trudge forward after giving your farewells to the trio when they announce that their “work is done”, and greet Albedo where he stands, waiting for you with open arms.

“That was very sly of you, you know,” you start, “submitting that commission to the Guild without me knowing.” Gratefully, you fall into his chest, wrapping your arms around him tightly with him doing the same in return. “Imagine my confusion when those three showed up at my doorstep, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

“I knew they would be the best to get the job done,” Albedo says, releasing you to encourage you over to the bed. “There are few I trust as much as the Traveler to protect you. And that Bennett, I’d heard, works well with him.”

“I’d have to agree with you there— I’d never seen two people so enthusiastic about taking down a Hydro slime, and so quickly, too.”

Albedo smiles, and the two of you sit on the edge of his bed.

“I see you’ve brought along some more food for me,” he says, glancing at the bag still slung over your arm with slight disdain.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d ever had this before, but one of the Knights’ reports mentioned it to be extremely popular over in Sumeru.”

“______, I didn’t say that out of curiosity. I’m still upset about your choice to journey here the last time; we never had a proper chance to discuss things.”

“Let me save you the trouble of worrying, then,” you say, patting his knee. “I don’t think it will be safe for me and the baby to come up here from this point on.”

“And what brought you to that conclusion?” Albedo inquires. Grabbing for the zipper of your coat, you pull it down, revealing to him the swell hidden beneath your thick turtleneck. “My… It’s bigger than the last time you were here…”

“It’s been almost a month since we’ve seen each other, so, naturally. But no... Coming here with Aether, Paimon, and Bennett worrying about me with every other step I'd take was a bit of an eye-opener. I'm not just responsible for myself, now. I have another life within me to take care of. In a few months' time, it will be no different to have them in my arms rather than in my body."

Maybe it’s because your adrenaline is finally plateauing, and your heart rate is dropping on account of you finally resting, but it seems like the baby realizes it, too, and it begins to move within you.

“Ohh…” You jerk forward, hands spastically reaching for Albedo’s to steady yourself— his eyes fly wide open, holding on tightly to you in return.

“______? Are you alright? Do you need to lie down?”

You shake your head, wearing a thin smile that confuses Albedo.

“I nearly forgot you haven’t felt it yet, since you’d been stuck up here for a while. Here,” you say, taking one of his hands, flipping it, and in pulling up your turtleneck, you reveal your bare stomach to him, swollen and… twitching?

“This far along, a baby will start to move, and it’ll even start kicking. Put your hand here, and wait. I think it has a favourite spot to kick, too.”

“Is it painful?” he’s quick to ask, not missing a beat when, as you predicted, the baby kicks you, only inches below your ribs.

“Just a little uncomfortable. It actually feels nicer having your hand on me than just my own.”

Wordlessly, Albedo adds his other hand to the surface of your belly; a content hum escapes you.

“It’s still quite… surreal to me,” he mumbles, his thumbs rolling over where one of the baby’s appendages extend outward. “That this is something that’s truly happening.”

“I never expected to be having a baby this way… or at all, any time soon, really, but… now that it is happening, I…” You chuckle, unable to find a proper word. “It is happening, Albedo. Our baby will be born soon.”

“Once this solution cures, I’ll be able to leave it in Sucrose’s care while I take my leave.”

“Your leave?” you repeat. He nods.

“I’ll be in Mondstadt for at least the remainder of your pregnancy,” he explains, tone cheery. “Any work that needs to be done will be done in our home laboratory, though it should be relatively quiet on that aspect of things. I’ll be able to focus on taking care of you and the baby, myself.”

“That… would be nice.” You’re still smiling at him when he looks up from your belly. “Albedo?” you gently call, raising a hand to caress his one cheek. “Are you alright?”

Albedo nods, holding your cool hand still against his fast-warming cheeks.

“Yes. I’m just…” He chuckles at you. “I’m a happy fool.”

Tumblr asks: kiddo extras! ✰ ✰

𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

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#tsno. genshin #this is so cute #albedo x reader

[v-dkja]

“should i order something for dinner?”

sae glances up at you before looking back at his phone, frowning. “no sé.”

you bite back an aggravated sigh, brows knitting in annoyance at his response.

recently, sae has developed the habit of speaking in spanish when he’s mad at you.

(he used to give you the cold shoulder, but he realized it started to backfire when you ignored him in return, so he settled for making sure you had a hard time understanding what he was saying instead.)

you lean against the couch, “how do you feel about getting some pizza?”

he doesn’t look at you, “no quiero.”

you make a face, “stop being so difficult.”

he turns to look at you sticking his tongue out, his brows knit in anger.

a frustrated sigh leaves your lips, your head dropping against the couch cushions. “you can’t stay mad at me forever!”

“sí puedo.” your eyes close in annoyance when you feel him glaring at you.

you lift your head up to look at him, glaring back. “i already apologized!”

“it wasn’t sincere!” he huffs, angrily turning away from you and crossing his arms.

a triumphant hum leaves your lips, a satisfied grin settling on your lips. sae turns to look at you with thinly-veiled curiosity.

a mocking huff of laughter slips past your lips and you stick your tongue out at him in satisfaction, “you stopped speaking in spanish.”

his face flushes, his eyes widening in realization before he glares at you again. “no i didn’t!”

“you did it again!” you hide your mouth behind your hands in a feeble attempt to hide your laughter.

a pout grows on his lips, the tips of his ears flushing, “…mentira.”

you slump against the couch, “what are you even mad for anyway?”

sae makes a face, looking away from you. his brows furrow even further as you stare at his cheek.

“…no sé.” his voice is laced with embarrassment, the tips of his ears a bright red as his cheeks slowly flush.

(you don’t need to know what he’s saying to conclude he doesn’t even know why he’s mad. it’s somehow even more annoying.)

confused frustration writes itself in your face, “why are you still being so petty, then?”

“i’m mad at you over something!” he groans, running a hand down his face.

“you wanna know what i think?” you smile.

“no.” you think it’s funny how he still says it in spanish.

you lean closer to him, “i think you should stop being mad at me.”

he gives you a look. “no thanks.”

“sae,” you lean even closer, pouting, “i’m sorry.”

he turns to you, raising a brow, “sorry for what?”

there’s a best of silence.

“you don’t even know what you’re sorry for!” sae glares.

you glare back, “you don’t either!”

his face flushes a deep red. he looks away from you, pausing for a second before glancing at you shyly, “te odio.”

you roll your eyes. “whatever.”

(you also don’t need to tell him you’ve started picking up on what his words mean. or that you’ve started to secret my learn a few of them.

it’d be a shame if he learned yet another language just to be petty.)

“you don’t know what you did?” he looks at you, pouting.

“not really.” you blink, crossing your arms, “do you?”

his lips curl into a fine line, his face flushing before he clears his throat in embarrassment. “not really.” (you think it’s cute how he repeats your words.)

you playfully poke his cheek. “how about we forget what you were mad at me about and order food already?”

he cracks a small smile, “depends on what we’re getting.”

“whatever you want.” you cheekily smile at him.

(you both know he’ll end up choosing whatever you’re craving.)

a sigh leaves your lips when you stretch your arms out, reaching for your phone. “you’re cute when you’re speaking spanish.”

“oh yeah?” he sounds smug. it makes you almost want to forgive him for being petty. (but you won’t.)

a smile blooms on your lips your eyes sparkling with mischief as the words slip out of your mouth, “totalmente.”

(you wish you’d taken a picture of his shocked face.)

#tsno. bllk

[v-dkja]

Sometimes the name doesn’t matter

synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife.

pairings: Alhaitham, Ayato, Diluc, Kaeya x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship, a little bit of bullying, a bit of unwelcome drunk flirting, characters sre whipped for their wives

word count: 5.4k+ words

a/n: btw there is currently voting to pick the characters for part 2

Alhaitham 

Your husband is… Truly something. Honestly, that’s the best way to describe this epitome of nonchalance, smugness and sarcasm, sprinkled with sharp glares and served with a smartass sauce. No one would be able to swallow such a nasty pill, yet you somehow managed. But that’s what doctors say, right? The medicine might be bitter, but it’ll get better. And it did.

Hard to believe, but the Akademiya’s Scribe is enamored by you - it took time to realize, many interactions for him to see that you do not rise annoyance in him, multiple times sharing the eye contact and hundreds of hours being your interlocutor to cognize the beauty of you, but when he fell - he fell hard, and the realization didn’t make him feel repulsed. On the contrary, it brought him inexplicable peace, and, being an efficient and straightforward man he is, Alhaitham faced you the very next day and asked out on a date.

The rest is history. You dated, you moved in, you got married - the sequence your husband perfected in its briefness to be over with quickly anytime his colleagues or anyone asked about you and your relationship. You, of course, would give a more detailed summary to your friends, speaking of him so tenderly, always witnessing the same reaction - disbelief. And you get it where they come from - after all, your partner is known to not be the most cordial person. He prefers it that way though - he is bothered much less and can dedicate that free time to his lovely wife.

He makes it a point to not leave the house unnecessarily early, just exactly enough to get to his office on time, and same with finishing his work, bluntly rejecting anyone who tries to approach him with stuff. This way he doesn’t waste a second with you, quite on contrary, sometimes a couple of hours can be added, if you visit him during the afternoon to go grab lunch together, or enjoy the one you brought with you, and then rest somewhere in a private spot with your head on his shoulder, holding a bigger hand that is resting on your thigh, while his other one is occupied with a book. This is enough to power you both up to push through the rest of the day, and Alhaitham really appreciates it, never failing to give you a kiss on the lips and murmuring the soft words of reassurance, before parting your ways till the evening.

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[v-dkja]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐅𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 — 𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔

“this seat taken?”

you look up from the screen of your laptop, fingers still tapping away at the keyboard. a man with blonde hair and golden eyes stands before you. he looks a little unkempt and his face is flushed as though he had arrived here in a rush. glancing to the empty seat beside you, you shake your head. “it’s all yours.”

he mumbles out a quick thank you before setting his bags on the floor and plopping down into the seat. you listen to idle chatter and the clicking of your keys until the man’s voice cuts through the background noise.

“business or pleasure?”

“i’m sorry?”

“why are you traveling?” he clarifies.

you point to your laptop. “work. you?”

“same here.”

you didn’t intend on holding a conversation while you waited for the boarding call of your flight, but the man seems like he could use someone to talk to. luckily, the report you're working on isn't expected from you for another couple of days, so you can spare the man a few words.

“what do you do?” you ask him, skimming over the last sentence you typed.

“volleyball. i play for the black jackals.”

“oh, really?” you turn to face him. sure enough, the black jacket he's sporting has a gold jackal logo printed on the left breast. your eyes wander up to his face once more. now that you've gotten a closer look at him, you're confident that you’d seen him on television and in magazines. “i thought i recognized you. miya-san, right?”

“atsumu, yes.”

you nod. it isn't every day that you meet someone famous. though, you couldn’t really call yourself a fan of volleyball; you rarely watched any of the broadcasted games. the only reason atsumu was familiar to you was because his face was plastered just about everywhere.

“going somewhere without your team?”

he smiles, running a hand through his hair. “well, i was actually supposed to be here a couple hours ago but my alarm didn’t go off and the ride i scheduled cancelled on me. so my team is already on the way and i have to wait for the next flight.”

you bite the inside of your cheek to hold back a laugh. that definitely explains why he's so disheveled. you couldn’t imagine being so late that you risked missing your plane—or having to be part of his team wondering whether or not he’d make it on time (which he obviously did not).

“sounds like you’ve had an eventful morning.”

“more like disastrous.” he sighs, tossing his head back. he stares at the ceiling with his next words. “my coach and manager are going to kick my ass when i land. i can practically hear them berating me now.”

you have to giggle at that one. by the sounds of it, finding himself in trouble like this isn't uncommon for atsumu.

he turns to you with his mouth slightly agape. he doesn't look nearly as mad as you expect. instead, there's shock written over his face.

“i’m sorry,” you wave your hands, “i didn’t mean to laugh at your expense.”

“no, it’s okay,” he reassures you. “you have a nice laugh.”

you smile at his compliment. “is there anything this stranger can do to help you feel better?”

atsumu hums, thoughtfully tapping his chin. he wasn’t expecting to find someone so generous at the airport. there are only a couple things he could think to ask of you that weren’t too outrageous; you had only just become acquainted after all. “if you aren’t too busy, you could watch my game. i promise i’m not entirely incompetent.”

it's cute that all he wants is the chance to prove himself to you. the business you had to take care of away from home only consists of one meeting and you doubt it'll end up conflicting with his game.

“sure, i’ll watch your match.”

“can i be greedy and ask for another thing?” he scratches his neck sheepishly.

this is a different miya atsumu than the one you caught glimpses of in interviews and tabloids. that one was wildly confident, always wearing a bold smirk. the one before you is bashful, his cheeks tinted with pink as he waits to see if you'll accept his request.

“ask away.”

“could i possibly get your number? i’d love to hear you laugh again.”

a smile tugs at your lips. you never could have imagines that you’d run into a famous athlete while waiting for your flight. it's even more astonishing that he seems to have taken an interest in you—enough so that he wants a means to contact you in the future. it's difficult to picture a life where you're involved with a man of his caliber, but that's something you're better off worrying about later. right now, all you can think about is hearing from him again.

“yeah, you can have my number.”

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