#Tartaglia x fem!reader

[catscidr]

Could I request head canons with reader who likes to cook and clean and is basically like a house wife. Dottore and Childe please ☺️

(oﾟ◇ﾟ)ﾉ perhaps you can............. i did my best to try to make these not too redundant , so forgive me if they're a little repetitive sometimes. the tldr is just that they love their cute wife (you) shgjngfns ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff! domestic fluff!! talks of food, mentions of having a family, childe's part gets a teensy bit suggestive includes: fem!reader, dottore and his clones, tartaglia wc: 1,2k

-ˋˏ It’s a popular headcanon that Dottore has a sweet tooth and I’m here to contribute to it bc I’m a firm believer in the Man Bad But Secretly Soft trope.......

-ˋˏ You often find yourself baking desserts for him to eat when he gets home from work and, on the rare occasions that he’s home while you’re baking, you make him taste-test the dessert you’re currently making 

-ˋˏ He’s actually decent at baking (it’s just food science and he’s The Science Guy), however he doesn’t particularly enjoy doing it. But you do! You love doing acts of service for him, which is why you got promoted from housewife to personal-pastry-and-dessert-expert housewife (said endearingly) 

-ˋˏ Good ol’ chocolate chip cookies, maple pudding, red velvet cake, lemon meringue pie, tiramisu, mille-feuille; you'd make so many desserts that he had to buy a chef-grade refrigerator on top of your regular fridge to store them. Not that he minded of course, but sometimes he’d lightly scold you for making so many unhealthy foods (all the while being a hypocrite himself because he’s the one enabling you) 

-ˋˏ Has a mini fridge in his office full of desserts (and the occasional homemade sandwich, for variety). He always has to restock it because his segments always get into it and eat his sweets that you made for him 

-ˋˏ When he tells you about it you end up giving him two extra tupperware containers full of sweets that you insist he gives to his segments, especially the younger ones. If he doesn’t, you’ll just show up to his lab and give your freshly baked desserts to them yourself 

-ˋˏ Sometimes Dottore tries to bake with you, but you always get frustrated that he never makes the desserts look nice. He just takes up space in your shared kitchen when he tries to help; which you tell him that by staying out of your way he’s helping 

-ˋˏ You’re also the designated cook since he doesn’t really have any skills in the kitchen outside of knowing the technical stuff. The man is too busy fiddling with machines and organs to know about how to properly sear a steak 

-ˋˏ His favorite meal of yours is a simple steak paired with a good, dry Malbec. You’re always setting up the table when he gets back from work, to which he always hugs you from the back to greet you. One time you didn’t hear him come in and you accidentally dropped the plate you were holding (you made him eat it as punishment. five second rule) 

-ˋˏ On the rare times he works from home you insist that he doesn’t need to help you with chores, no matter how much he offers (which wasn’t that often to begin with, but at least he offered. like..... once). Instead, he’d get settled on the kitchen table while you wash the dishes, vacuum, etc 

-ˋˏ Some days you’d be in comfortable silence, while on other days you’d listen to him ranting about how irritating his coworkers are, or about how much he wants to fire some of his underlings because they’re “so incompetent”. Thankfully you can calm him down before he,, makes an angry phone call 

-ˋˏ You don’t get the chance to visit him at work that often, so you revel in the times where he’s able to work from home. But since you can’t go see him that often, it means you don’t see his clones either 

 -ˋˏ The older segments would refrain from asking about you (because you’re Prime’s wife, not theirs. he’s yelled at them multiple times about it. bro’s possessive) while the younger ones would consistently bother him about your whereabouts. He insists that he hates it when they ask, but inwardly he imagines how you’d take care of them. (is it to heal his inner child or to imagine how good of a mother you could be? maybe both, but he wouldn’t admit to the former) 

✧✧✧ 

-ˋˏ Childe would have been your housewife if he wasn’t a Harbinger. point blank 

-ˋˏ Buuuut, since he isn’t, he makes sure to take care of you. You’re always cleaning after him, cleaning him sometimes, and overall taking up more tasks than he thought you could (should) chew. Of course, you did it all out of love and didn’t expect him to owe you anything, but he’d feel bad if he didn’t help at least a little bit 

-ˋˏ So once or twice a week (depending on when his schedule allows it) you’ll both be cleaning the house and doing chores together 

-ˋˏ You’re both listening to music while sweeping the floor, reorganizing the pantry, wiping down the counters..... getting as much done as you can before Childe decides he’d rather have you sat up on a counter while he nestles himself closer to you 

-ˋˏ He always buys the best appliances for your sake since you’re the one that’s home most of the time. That one really expensive, cordless vacuum cleaner you saw at the store? He bought it. A duster with a retractable handle that can help you reach the top of shelves without you needing to stand on a chair to clean? Childe bought it before you could even ask. That really cute cherry-shaped deep dish with matching baking utensils you saw at the store together? He’s carrying it to your car right now 

-ˋˏ Though while he does buy really useful things, he balances it out by getting you unnecessary items. Like a frilly pink apron with Kiss the cook embroidered in cursive on it, or a soup ladle that looks like the Loch Ness monster but I digress 

-ˋˏ Childe is 100% a family man- so, as a result, he's thought about having his own family with you. After seeing you indulging Teucer and his siblings’ shenanigans, he absolutely wants to have kids with you and have you do things like read books to them, make them lunch to bring to school, etcetc 

-ˋˏ Loves to come back home from work to you, smelling the fresh aroma of dinner wafting in the air 

-ˋˏ He loves your cooking!! Can’t get enough of it, especially when he comes back from training and he’s all spent. Whether it be your homemade soup, a hearty meaty meal, or a pasta dish he’ll always devour whatever you make 

-ˋˏ You make extra portions of chicken, steak, whatever protein-filled meal when he’s bulking so he can bring leftovers to work to eat them after sparring sessions. It makes everyone else jealous (which is partly his intention lol) 

-ˋˏ Boasts about you to his coworkers and agents below him, always saying “my wife” with a lovesick smile on his face 

-ˋˏ Has a whole bunch of photos of you in his office, ranging from cute candid pictures to professional, framed photos on his desk, and a tasteful polaroid of you in his wallet. Adores showing you off to others (except the photo he has in his wallet, of course. that’s for his eyes only), so much so that sometimes his underlings try to come up with excuses to leave because he goes on and on and on........ what can he say, he loves his cute housewife !!

[dreamerinthemoonlight]

Favorite Part of You: Genshin Version Pt. 1 (Zhongli, Tartaglia, Xiao)

Summary: Are they a butt guy, boob guy, or thigh guy?

CW: suggestive, fluff

Xiao x fem!reader, Zhongli x fem!reader, Tartaglia x fem!reader

Xiao

100% a boobs guy

At first he didn’t really have a preference, but once physical contact became more common (he’s surprisingly weak to cuddles when he gets used to it) your boobs became his favorite part

And it’s not even pervy

Boobs are just very comfy and he’s short enough that it’s not overly hard to use them as pillows 

Actually, he might actually get rest when he has his head on your chest

And I should move on before this turns into How to Cuddle an Adeptus: Anti-social Yaksha edition 

Zhongli

I don’t know what it is about refined people and seeming like they’d prefer legs, but I guess they do *shrugs*

Zhongli is very appreciative of your legs

He’s not so crass as to point it out publicly or even make a big deal out of it, but you can see the way his eyes linger when you wear some of the shorter Liyue dresses

When you’re sitting next to each other in private he might lay his hand on your thigh or absent-mindly brush his fingers up and down them

And after a  romp? You’re wearing a long skirt or pants. Zhongli is mindful enough to keep from marking up your neck and shoulders, but he can’t quite help himself when it comes to your legs

Of course, you don’t mind too much. How many girls get to have an Archon leaving love bites on them anywhere

And in the name of PG-13ness, moving on!

Tartaglia

Butts, butts, butts

He has no issues walking behind you to watch the way your butt moves

He also has no issues walking next with he arm around your waist, letting his hand drift as far south as you’ll let him. And he has the gall to look innocent when you move his hand back up to your waist. The look you give him is, in a word, unimpressed

And if you bend over in front of him, he strikes me as someone with good control over his hormones, but insta-boner. Doubly so if you’re in something that doesn’t cover much something you use to tease him all the time

[stragefields]

Genshin impact characters reacting when you tell them you‘re pregnant + how they would be during the pregnancy

characters: ayato,childe

T/W: pregnancy, fluff enjoy!

not proofread!

Ayato

he would await it one day that you‘d come into his office and tell him that you‘re awaiting. it would definitely happen some day sooner or later, i mean this man has clearly no other choice, he is the head of the clan and that requires that he would get an heir some day. of course he is over the moon when you told him. not only because he‘s relieved that it finally happened even with some problems at the way. on the other hand he feels a sort of relieve because he isn‘t the only one without a child on the way anymore.

but of course he is also happy for the both of you to finally get the family you wanted.

to the dismay with many other high society people the baby turns out to be a girl but you two honestly doesn’t care about the gender and nobody says that that would be the last one, aren‘t they?

he would move his whole working space into your private chambers so he can be with you in an emergency. he has experienced the pregnancy of his mother with his younger sister and he wouldn’t forgive himself if he would let you go through this.

if you would fight with nausea he would personally take the best care of you. if he‘d find you bent over the toilet he will gently take your hair back and pat your back until it‘s over. then he would carry you to your marital bed, lay down with you and massage your back until you‘re feeling better and can rest. also he would ask thoma to prepare a stomach-friendly tea and get you anything you want (i mean this man is one of the richest people in teyvat so what would be better to spend the money than his own family?).

Childe

after he came home from a 3-month mission you‘d suprised him with a tiny yellow box with a blue little sweater and a positive pregnancy test in there. he just looks at you completely confused but as he opens the box, revealing a little blue wool pullover and a positive pregnancy test. his eyes turn wide as he looks with a small smile at you.

„you are? how far are you lovely?“ he asks you. „well yes it happened on our ‚goodbye-fuck‘ and after i felt nauseous and tired i went to the doctor and he only confirmed my suspension.“

after hearing the confirmation he broke down in tears and hugged you. now everything was okay. he was with you in his homeland, you and his family were safe, and now you, you the love of his life, the person he always wanted children with, were pregnant. so this evening, in the small illuminated corridor, he let his guard down.

with your pregnancy he becomes at least 10 times more overprotective than he already is. poor man he just want you and his unborn child be safe, but you still the stubborn woman he fell in love with, you want to continue your work at the adventures guild. after a long and loud discussion with some yelling by you, caused by your pregnancy hormones, he finally obliged to continue your work but still till the 6th month and only paperwork. you were literally so upset with him after his decision so you slept on the couch. in the morning he came to you begging to you that he can‘t sleep another night without you.

he will spend much more time with you, writing the tsaritsa a letter, explaining the situation and he got the half-time of his work off. you will spend this time often with his family sitting in the warm living room playing games and looking at photos when ajax was only a baby (i want to see this pictures so bad) and his mother will knit a sweater for the baby when the name is decided. like the weasley christmas sweater thing (ofc you and the others already have one)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

other charcters will follow soon…

btw my commissions are open so write me :>

[newtabfics]

could i request some childe smut cuz fontaine is fucking me up rn! specifically maybe he's kidnapped her and is making her beg for him to fuck her?

DJFLSDJ NOT THIS FUELING MY FUCKED UP FANTASIES LETS GO

Triggers for kidnapping, restraints, technically manipulation.

The harbinger smirked as he watched her writhe in her restraints "C'mon, Comrade," He cooed, letting a gloved finger dip between her folds hauntingly. "Don't you want it? Don't you want to get fucked in your needy little cunt? Say it. Say how bad you need my cock inside you."

Y/N's cheeks flushed darker as she closed her eyes tight, looking away. Her jaw was gripped painfully as she was forced to look at him. He snarled as he moved closer, lips barely grazing hers.

"I can play nice," He whispered, drawing a whimper from her. "But only if you can too. If you don't act right, I'm gonna just use you like a toy and leave you dripping with my cum until I decide I need to use my little cocksleeve again." He smirked at her darkened eyes. "So beg for it."

[dewlight-dreamer]

I uploaded a new fanfic on AO3 and I wanted to share it. ✨

Relationship: Tartaglia/Childe x F!Reader

All additional tags in the screenshot.

Rated mature, it is a currently at 4 chapters and will continue to be updated. There’s a lot of angst, pain, hurt/comfort, and an already established relationship between a female reader and Tartaglia.

Although this work can be read as a coherent narrative, it is mostly a collection of shorts that represent a non-chronological account of the various stages of grief that Reader is going through after her divorce with Tartaglia. As I said, there’s a lot of pain and angst, so be warned. ^^; But I do promise a happy ending.

Read it HERE ✨

I wrote these over the past couple of years. Recently, while listening to a Benson Boone album, I was finally inspired to re-write, re-edit and put them together. I uploaded the first four “chapters” in one go, and I will be adding to them.

I hope you enjoy reading this work! If you do, please leave kudos or a comment, and share my post on Tumblr if you’d like that! <3

As mentioned, this whole work was inspired by Benson Boone’s album Fireworks & Rollerblades (2024) and the title is inspired by Taylor Swift’s song “Red” (2012).

xoxo

[cloudseeker14]

Frantic Desire (Childe x Fem!Reader)

This art isn't mine, it belongs to mamepokokun who's extremely talented. Please check them out and support them.

Summary : After a one night stand with the woman he can barely tolerate that seems to linger in Childe's memory, what will he do when he sees her again at an official party?

Warning : Making out, some sexual themes, slight swearing

Pairing : Childe x Fem!Reader

Genre : Romance (a bit spicy thought), Enemies to Lovers

a/n : Hello! I've never left notes like this before, but I just wanted to thank you all for the support you've shown for my previous works. Reading some of your comments have truly made my day and I hope this post is able to make yours too.

Childe had never hated anyone as much as the woman he’d caught at corner of his eye.

He’d spotted her across the ballroom, a sickeningly sweet smile plastered across her face. As a harbinger, she seemed to fit perfectly in the background of the ball in the Tsaritsa’s honour.

The party had been a bore, filled with mundane remarks and courtesies. But his eyes hadn’t left her for an instant and he certainly hadn’t failed to see the how she’d spared him a few subtle glances.

The damned woman had been tormenting his mind for countless nights, caressing him softly with phantom touches.

Touches that left him panting for more as he clutched his bed with the moon as his sole witness.

Y/N could feel the eleventh harbinger’s eyes piercing into her back. She almost scoffed at the ludicrous display of hatred, how could a single man be so obvious?

The musicians burst forth with violins and the music began to pick up pace as it blasted through the ballroom. In a sudden spark of courage, Childe began to walk towards her, insults ready at the tip of his tongue.

“Leave me alone, some of us actually are busy and have matters to attend.”

Of course, Y/N, the Tsaritsa’s personal favourite would respond with such coldness. Childe tilted his head, trying to restrain the thoughts that were threatening to spew from his lips.

He wanted to taint her, ruin her and see that facade of indifference burn to ashes.

“Is that so, comrade? I couldn’t help but notice you sulking in the corner for the past while. Perhaps that’s why you seem even more sour than usual, can’t handle not being the Tsaritsa’s lapdog for a single night?”

“Of course not, unlike you, I don’t have to prance around like a jester to retain my position, considering that I have the needed prowess for a harbinger.”

Childe’s jaw clenched and he sucked in a harsh breathe.

“What are you even here for? Came to beg for a dance, have you?”

Childe didn’t know what spurred him, but he couldn’t stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth.

“Would you like it if that was the case?”

He relished the shock that swept through her face.

“Bold of you to assume that I’d accept.” She replied, regaining her wits.

Childe closed the gap between them, shielding the galling Y/N from prying eyes. “Sure weren’t this cocky a few nights ago, were you?”

It was a tangled mess of limbs as Childe felt his shirt being ripped off.

“As eager as always, hm?” Childe said, hissing as Y/N dug her nails into his back.

“Be a darling and shut your mouth for once.”

Childe pushed her off, crossing his arms over his bare chest; a playful glint in his eyes. “One more vile remark and you’re getting nothing.”

She leaned in close, bringing herself close to his ear. “We both know you want this as much as or even more than me.” She whispered, leaving a sultry kiss on his neck, smearing her red lipstick on his skin.

“Then say it.”

“God, do you ever know when to be quiet.”

“Say the truth.”

“And pray tell, what is this truth?” Y/N raised her eyebrows, growing more impatient by the minute.

“That you know tonight is more than some spontaneous decision with no strings attached.”

Y/N grabbed his face and for a fleeting second, she could tell that if she asked him to, he might do anything she’d ask.

“Then beg for it.”

“Last time I checked, I wasn’t the one pleading to be touched.” Y/N chortled.

Childe flushed, embarrassment rising within him. “Why you-''

Before he could complete his words, she grabbed him by his black tie, tugging him closer to her. Childe stared at the emerald necklace that adorned her neck, light reflecting of it in a plethora of colours. He couldn’t help but wonder how his hands would look in its place instead.

“That night was nothing else other than carnal entertainment .” Y/N muttered, glancing around the vicinity. “Though I’m not sure if you’re as confident about that as I am.” “Keep up with haughty attitude and one day, I might just end up putting you in your place.”

“You chose to come up to me right now.” The corners of her lip pulled into a grin. "Seems to me as if you're desperate for my undivided attention."

Childe clenched his teeth in frustration. "I'm a harbinger like you, show me some respect."

"Make me."

Red seared Childe's vision as his breaths came out shallow. His fists shook and his head throbbed with rage.

"Aw, are you getting all angry?" Y/N cooed, placing her hand atop his chest. "Oh my, you seem to be getting all worked up over a few words."

She paused, pushing him aside. "You've grown weak, Childe. How pathetic."

A huge thud echoed through the ballroom as Childe slammed her against the wall, trapping her in between his arms. Whispers ran through the horde of guests as an awed silence fell upon the crowd.

She dug her nails into her palms, embarrassment clouding her head.

Y/N swung his arm away. "I have to apologize for my friend, I think the drinks really got to his head. Please, don't bother yourselves with us and enjoy the night." She chuckled nonchalantly

Childe remained silent as the guests broke out into giggles, the thought of a drunken acquaintance bringing forth a bout of humor.

The party began to pick up its momentum and the people returned back to the food, drinks and entertainment. Y/N whirled around before dragging Childe out of the ballroom, her silk dress trailing behind her.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" She hissed, running her fingers through her hair.

The cold wind whipped against their faces and Y/N involuntarily shuddered. As though it was second nature to him, Childe removed his coat and gently placed it atop her shoulders. The woman's eyes widened and she let out a huff. Nevertheless, she clutched his coat and wrapped it around herself.

Childe didn't know what was wrong with him. Every single rational thought within him was screaming at him to get away, that no good would come from this.

Yet a small part of him wanted to know what it felt like. To know how it would feel to take her right there, clasp her hand in his as he ravaged her. Maybe even adore and cherish her.

"Stop looking at me like that." She mumbled

"Like what?"

"Like you love me."

She was of noble blood, the Tsaritsa's right hand and lowering herself to a man of a lineage as inconsequential as the dust beneath the soles of her shoes would be a disgrace to everything she stood for.

But she couldn't control the way all the values that had been ingrained in her came crashing down or how her self restraint hung from a thread every time she looked into those sky blue eyes.

Childe guffawed and grabbed her hand, bringing it to his lips. "Why would I? After all, it's just 'carnal entertainment', is it not?"

"Then why don't you engage me with it? It's not like the party is very amusing, is it?"

Childe grabbed her by the hips, leaning closer. ""Look who's begging now."

They were in too deep now, lost within the mess they'd made. Regardless of how far they ran, how much they tried to avoid it, some invisible string; perhaps of fanatical lust, fate or even inexplicable love kept tugging them back in.

His lips collided with hers, body relaxing at the familiarity of it all. Her hands clung to his shirt as if reaching out for something to tether herself.

The lines between right and wrong, morality and sin seemed to blur. Anyone could be watching them, feasting their eyes upon such a scandalous sight.

Yet, they didn't care, too far gone in their fervorous longing.

The eleventh harbinger pulled away and his teeth grazed Y/N's neck as the wind ruffled his hair. To her horror, Y/N couldn't stop the whimper that escaped her lips.

"Accept it." Childe groaned, inhaling her perfume, intoxicating his senses.

"Accept what?"

"That you want me."

It didn't matter what she'd been taught. The irrevocable feeling in her heart had grown far too big to be contained.

"You're the only one I could ever want."

Childe smiled, not snarkily like when they fought, but of genuine joy and Y/N could have sworn the stars seemed to dim in comparison to it.

One more night couldn't hurt anyone, right?

[thatonegenshinsimp]

I had a hurt/comfort thought where Tartaglia just snaps and says something hurtful when his s/o tried to help him while he was upset, but rather than leaving immediately she just sits there and listens. Letting him just release it out of his system, sorta. O wO ofc she's deeply hurt by it and says she understands when he starts to apologize about it. But if he was going too far then she would snap back, and leave him be for a bit until things settle down.

I’m Sorry (Tartaglia x fem!reader)

Hello anon! Thank you for the lovely request. I was running on like four hours of sleep when I wrote this so it’s probably not the best, but enjoy~

Warnings: Cursing, fem!reader

Masterlist

You had decided to bring Ajax lunch at the Northland Bank, and lo and behold, Signora had been there not too long before you. Needless to say, he was pissed, because she had taken the Geo Gnosis and tricked him into buying her time to do so. However, that didn’t mean that he should’ve let that anger out on you.

You knocked on his office door, hearing him say a faint “enter” from the other side. His blue eyes flicked up from the document he was reading to see you. You smiled, bringing out a box of warm dumplings. “Hey, I know you said you were working late, and that I shouldn’t bother you, but I brought you dinner.” You said, walking in and setting the box down on an unoccupied part of his desk. You sat in one of the chairs next to his desk, noticing how he fidgeted with his gloves. He looked angry, very angry, and though you knew better than to pry, you still asked what was going on.

Tartaglia looked back down at the document and sighed deeply when you sat down, before feeling your hand against his. He let you hold it, his glare deepening. “Hey, can you look at me for a moment, please?” You asked. He stared over at you with the same look. You knew he was angry, knew he didn’t want to talk, but you persisted nevertheless. “What’s wrong? Why are you so mad right now?” You asked, he slammed his hand on the tabletop. “You wanna know what’s wrong? I’ve been here with you for well over a year, away from my family because of my mission here. My bitch of a coworker just completed it right as I was getting ready to myself. She stole that opportunity the moment I got my chance, and not only that, but she also took the Anemo Archon’s Gnosis, so that’s two right under her belt. I failed my mission, and now I have to sit here dealing with these people for another month as I wait for another mission before I can go home! I’ve been working my ass off for a year, and she took my limelight like it was hers!” He yelled, stalking toward you as he let go of your hand. You took a step back, but then decided to hold firm. “Ajax, please calm down, you’re yelling.” You mumbled, watching as his look grew even angrier. “Are you kidding me? After everything I’ve done for you, your words of comfort are for me to calm down? I can’t calm down when I just failed one of the most important missions of my lifetime! I’ll probably never get another opportunity like this ever again. You know what? Get out.” He demanded, pointing to the door. “Ajax…” things were getting worse. “Get out!” He yelled. Your eyes widened slightly as he raised his voice at you, since arguments between the two of you were so rare. You glared at him, before drawing your hand back and slapping him square across the face. You stormed out, slamming the door behind you. Fine then, he wants to yell at you? So be it, but you won’t be talking to him for a while until he apologizes.

After he calmed down a little more, Ajax realized exactly how bad what he’d just done was. He knew how you felt whenever you were yelled at, and he’d yelled at you because there was no one else to take that frustration in the room. He crossed his arms and banged his head against the desk. “Way to go, Ajax. She’s going to ignore you for the rest of the week.” He mumbled to himself. He didn’t know how to apologize when it came to you, he wasn’t good at it, and he certainly wasn’t good at admitting he was wrong. However, what he did know was that you needed space for a bit so that the two of you could cool down, and he respected that. He just didn’t think you’d find comfort in one of the people that caused his anger in the first place.

You ate dinner alone that night, thinking about what happened earlier. You decided to let things cool down for a few days, to give your lover some space, and went to sleep early that evening. You slept peacefully with a clear vision in your mind of how you were going to handle this argument with him. “Things will get better, I’m sure of it. This is just another hiccup we have to get through.” You told yourself, closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Childe closed the door to his home and locked it behind him, walking to the kitchen. He was about to call for you when he remembered that you weren’t there. “Why did I yell at her? It wasn’t even her fault in the first place.” He mumbled. He shook his head, before grabbing some ingredients and making dinner for himself. “I’ll apologize tomorrow.” He muttered, before getting dressed in his nightclothes. Ajax didn’t sleep well that night, his mind full of nothing other than you.

The next day, you woke up early to take commissions from the Guild, and quickly made your way to Wangshu Inn. Smiley Yanxiao sent in a request earlier, and you were the one who got it. You walked there, taking your time, and quickly got him the crab meat he needed for the kitchen. You then made your way to Mount Tianheng to complete a time trial and then to Cuijue Slope to deal with some Treasure Hoarders that had been causing trouble for the Guild for a while. You took a break to eat lunch, taking out the food you’d made earlier and eating it as you looked around at the beautiful cliffs and mountains.

By the time you got home, you were exhausted. You collapsed on the bed and fell asleep almost immediately. However, when you woke up the next day, you saw a note on the kitchen counter, which was addressed to you from Ajax. The note said: meet me at Liuli Pavilion for lunch, please. I want to talk- Ajax. You decided to take him up on the offer, and got ready to go out.

Ajax nervously fidgeted with his gloves as you walked up, before looking at you. “Hey, I-” “Follow me, I’m not talking to you here in the middle of the harbor.” You interrupted him, taking his hand and leading him to a more secluded spot. He didn’t know what to say, how to apologize, so he took a deep breath before looking at you. “I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you like that, I wasn’t thinking straight yesterday because of Signora’s actions, and-” he stopped when you hugged him, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing him tightly. “I just wanted to help, I’m sorry.” You mumbled, causing him to shake his head. “No, please don’t apologize to me, I’m the one who yelled at you. That was on me, not you. Please don’t try to take the blame for this.” He pleaded, hugging you back. “We can spend the whole day together if you want, just please don’t try blaming yourself for my actions.” He whispered, lifting his hands to cup your face. He pressed his forehead against yours, holding you there. “Can you forgive me for saying those things to you?” He asked, smiling softly as you nodded. When he tried to pull away, you kept him there, before leaning in close to him and stretching on your tiptoes to press your lips against his, kissing him. “The whole day, huh? In that case, how about we just head home? I’m exhausted from commissions yesterday, and I still have injuries. Besides, I’m feeling selfish today, do you mind if I have you all to myself?” You asked, causing him to shake his head. “Home it is.” He replied, sweeping you up into his arms and carrying you to your place. “How about I cook dinner tonight, too? I have a really good recipe for dumplings that Zhongli taught me a few weeks ago.” He suggested, watching as you nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good.” You replied, leaning against him.

The rest of the day, he took care of you, tending to your injuries and cooking for you. By the time the two of you settled down for the night, you had a soft smile on your face. “Thank you, Ajax.” You whispered, laying down against him as you spoke. “I’m sorry we fought, I’ll try not to yell at you again.” He mumbled, resting his head on top of yours. “Thanks for taking care of me today.” You muttered, pressing yourself against him. “It’s no problem, thanks for forgiving me.” He replied, closing his eyes. “I love you.” You whispered, looking up at him. He smiled, pressing his lips against yours. “I love you too.” He said, holding you close to him as the two of you fell asleep.

[pearl-blue-musings]

all the right moves

Summary: You’re a struggling mid to late 20’s MBA student trying to fuel your fire for your family’s struggles. As you work with some friends, you meet a random and charming businessman who tries to sweep you off your feet. However, he’s not all he says he is. Can this spell disaster? And what exactly does he have to do with your past?

Pairing: Childe x fem!afab!reader

Smau and written

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, comfort

Warnings: 18+, modern au, business au, slight ooc, cursing, drinking, smut (will be tagged at the right time)

Start date: late November

Status: indefinite hiatus

Tag list open

Character profiles

Chapters:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

More to be added

Taglist: @zireaels-igni @mrskreideprinz

[pearlywritings]

Sometimes the name doesn't matter

synopsis: sometimes it matters that you are his wife. PART 3

pairings: Childe, Neuvillette, Pantalone, Wriothesley x fem!reader (separately)

tw: fluff, established relationship (married/engaged/mated), secret relationship, immortal reader in Neuvi's part

word count: 6.1k+ words

a/n: part 1 and part 2 can be read here!

Childe

Spurred by the whistles and a whip of a coachman three fine white horses are trotting along the snow-covered road, dragging a big sleigh. Made of the sturdiest wood and painted in red and gold, the construction is effortlessly sliding on ice crust, almost lulling you under all those warm blankets and furs Ajax has thrown over your half-sitting half-lying bodies. You are glad to have this instead of jolting in a carriage (not like it’ll even be able to ride through all this snow), sure to have an aching arse even under the thick sheepskin coat, and instead of whatever machinery your lover could’ve gotten his hands onto due to his position - otherwise it wouldn’t have been so romantic.

Resting your head onto his shoulder you sigh blissfully, puffing out a small cloud of warm air. The fluffy-looking firs, tall pines and naked larches are flashing past in a magical gleam of snow-covered branches; you think you see two grayish squirrels chasing one another on a tree on your left.

“Oh, little minxes. A couple of seconds later and that snow could’ve ended up on our heads.”

You giggle at the young man’s comment, taking your gloved hand out of the sable muff and reaching to adjust the hat with earflaps (which he once again refused to tie under his chin) on his head. Before you can retrieve, a bigger hand clad in mitten wraps around yours and brings it to the chapped pale lips. As if spellbound you watch him press a tender kiss just where your ring finger joins the palm - right where the engagement ring is hidden under the thick material.

Now it’s hard to tell if your cheeks are rosy from cold or the swirling emotions.

“A little bit more and we will be in Morepesok,” he says softly, deep pools of his blue eyes staring back at you adoringly. “I can’t wait to share the news with ma, pa, sisters and brothers…”

You know he’s written them a letter right after you said ‘yes” to him, too excited to wait. So excited in fact, that he couldn’t sit still in expectation for the response, so he solicited an impromptu week-long vacation with the help of Pulcinella, and here you are, on your merry way to his home village.

“I can’t wait for that too,” you smile, leaning up to peck his nose, eliciting the same smile from him. “But I worry a little - will they be happy for us? I mean, that it’s me who you are going to marry?”

“Absolutely!” He nods enthusiastically and you have to readjust his hat again. “They all love you very much, I promise you. And if I am being completely honest, mom and Tonia did keep asking me when I intended to make you my wife during the last couple of times we visited.”

“Wait, really? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I was already planning a proposal at the time - didn’t want to spoil it by accidentally letting my tongue loose.”

It’s hard to believe that this man is one of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers. Childe is surprisingly good at separating his work and off work behavior, turning into a completely normal, maybe just a tiny bit unhinged, young man as soon as his family is involved. You know he’s built this facade to keep them and you away from harm, but you also know it comes from the heart as well.

“Then I can only hope we can bring the female members of your family to the capital soon - I want them to participate in the wedding dress shopping.”

You are immediately gathered into a tight embrace and your laughter is smothered by the fur on his collar. Yes, he is the Eleventh Harbinger, Tartaglia, Tsaritas’s soldier, Childe… But in moments like this he is just Ajax. Your Ajax.

His parents’ house meets you both with the quiet creak of the gates, the barking of two big fluffy malamutes outside, the clink of the horseshoe against the wood on top of the front door, the warmth of a well-heated inside and a bit taller than the last time you saw him Teucer, who runs full speed at his big brother, practically tackling him.

“Big brother is home, big brother is home!”

Ajax joyously laughs, somehow managing to take off his coat and dropping it to the colorful carpet at the front door before hoisting the exclaiming boy into his arms. Kicking off your felt boots to step from the anteroom, you watch with a smile as he squeals when your lover presses his cold cheek to the warm smaller one, squirming in the strong arms. 

Not a minute later more of his siblings appear, closely followed by their mom - freckled, with her ginger with gray hair tied in a thick braid and an apron thrown over her green dress, the woman smiles brightly and, letting her children surround their brother, walks to you with arms spread, ready to embrace you.

“Mother, my clothes might be cold,” you try to warn her, but she doesn’t listen, hugging you anyway.

“As if it can affect me! Oh, I’m so happy to see you, my dear. How was your trip? Are you tired, hungry? I’m almost done with lunch, and in the meantime I can ask my husband to throw in the firewood and heat the bathhouse for you two.

“It’s very kind of you,” you smile, wrapping your arms to give her a hug in return. “But I think we’ll wash up in the evening - I really doubt Ajax’s sibling will let him go in the following couple of hours.”

Before she can say anything, a tall, wide man appears from the other room. His beard and hair are gingerly brown with gray too, thick brows naturally furrowed. By the rosy cheeks, the remnants of snowflakes melting on his hair and the choice of clothing you guess he’s just returned to the house through the back door - probably after chopping wood.

Upon lowering his gaze to you, his facial features smooth out.

“If it isn’t my son and a dear soon-to-be daughter-in-law!” His gruff voice booms across the house, immediately redirecting everyone’s attention to you and making you blush. “I knew Ajax was too impatient and would rather come to visit and bring his fiance along than wait for a response letter.”

As he moves to greet you properly and help with discarding the outer clothes, you notice your gingerhead whispering something to his siblings, to which they giggle and throw glances at you. Catching the gaze of your lover, you lift an eyebrow, as if asking ‘should I be concerned?’. But he only shakes his head with a smile and ushers everyone to the dining room.

However, the curiosity is getting better of you, as throughout the evening you keep catching the glances, watch Tonia whispering something to her mom, and the woman giving Ajax a ‘really?’ kind of look, but with a fond smile, and then his dad slapping his back with a boisterous laugh, saying something along the lines ‘I was the same way with your mom too’.

So you confront him once you are left alone in the room.

“Hey, foxy, what’s going on?”

“Hm?” He lowers the blanket that he’s just tucked inside the duvet cover and reaches for the sheets. “What do you mean, bunny?”

“Whatever you’ve been doing,” you put one of the pillows down and reach out for the other as well as the pillowcase. 

“And what’s that ‘whatever’ I’ve been doing?” You don’t miss the sly smile finding its way onto his face. You huff.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

The man hums, tucking the edges of the sheet between the mattress and the bed.

“Nothing you should worry about. I just asked them all to practice a little.”

“Practice?” Cocking your head, you throw both pillows onto the bed. “Wait, did you start planning something for the wedding?”

“Not quite. Rather for after it.”

Confused, but intrigued, you step closer when your lover sits down and beckons you, being dragged into his lap a second later. Blue eyes look at you in an unspoken fascination, as he leans forward to place a kiss to the corner of your mouth, prompting you to loosely wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Since we are getting married, I deduced that it would be only right for my family to call you my wife. Thus I asked them to get acquaintanced with the term, so they could start doing it as soon as we are pronounced husband and wife.”

You blink at him once, twice. After the third time you exhale, shaking your head, but the lift of your lips doesn’t go unnoticed by your fiance.

“I should’ve known you’d pull something like this, I am not even surprised, let alone mad. But they could just keep addressing me by my name. Plus your siblings already call me ‘big sister’ and your parents made me an honor of acknowledging me as the ‘daughter’. It won’t change much.”

“But it will!” He pouts and you can’t resist the urge to pinch his cheek. “You will be my wife and I want everyone to help me show it! Does it bother you though?”

Looking into those uncharacteristically begging eyes, you really can’t deny him his little antics. Not like you were going to in the first place.

“No, no, I don’t mind, love. Honestly, it's very sweet how excited you are. Makes me look forward to it.”

“Yeah?” Look at him, smiling like a satisfied cat, who's had too much sour cream for its own good. His embrace tightens on you a little.

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passes as Ajax enjoys the many kisses you pepper to his face, squeezing his eyes shut, grinning, boyishly eager for more.

“Do you think I should ask the whole village to do the same?”

“Ajax, no.”

Nuevillette

“Mother, do you mind helping me a little? I can’t reach over there…

“I’d be delighted, my dear.”

Neuvillette watches with a fond look as you put the tea cup down and stand up to walk closer to Verenata and assist her with whatever the potion maker needs. Your figure is ethereal, clad in the finest fabrics, flowing with every step and gently dropping as you crouch gracefully to hoist the melusine in your arms. From above the rim of his silver goblet the Hydro Dragon can't tear his eyes from the way one of your many “daughters” wraps an arm around your neck and reaches up, while the corner of your lips, which he can see from his position at the table, is turned upwards.

“Mother is so kind and patient,” Laume says just a step away from Neuvillette’s chair. When the man turns his head to look at her, there is Flo standing too.

“Yes, and she is so beautiful,” the other melusine sighs, clasping her hands together. “And she always brings us such nice and comfortable clothes…”

“Monsieur Neuvillette married a wonderful woman,” a couple more melusines nearby agree and there is a warm and fuzzy feeling takes place in the Judex’s chest.

Marriage… Such a beautiful concept humans came up with to validate the union of two. It begins with the wedding - a day full of happy tears and blissful smiles, shared vows to be together in sickness and in health, sweet claims of love and promises of joyful life ahead. Then this very life begins and for beings like you and your husband it’s a long, but welcome trip.

You’ve been claimed by each other for quite some time before the more ‘mortal appropriate’ ritual, and the melusines - the wonderful creatures Neuvillette once took under his wing - were aware and happy for your relationship. And it was actually their idea to hold a wedding too, once Sigewinne naturally asked how the two of you planned to introduce your bond in civil words to humans.

And it was their initiative to start calling you “mother”. With your actions you quickly became one for them anyway, and the girls actively sought your company when it was possible. Thus, such tea parties at the Merusea Village as today are a common occurrence (besides, you always welcome them because it's a great opportunity to dig your husband out of the pile of responsibilities he tends to bury himself under).

However, lately Neuvillette started noticing that when he heard the word leave the girls’ mouths, a strange feeling began rising in his chest. Even though not quite familiar with the concept of jealousy, the Judex was sure it was not the case - he loved when the melusines called you that. So, he could not really put his finger on why the action caused such an indescribable reaction.

He decided to observe. On his walks throughout the city, the man seeked the sights of parents with children to attentively listen and watch while leisurely passing by or stopping at the shopping booths to linger on the scene. He was quick to note that the interactions were hardly different from the ones between you and the girls - kids would call for their mothers in all the same tones: when happy, when asking for help, when seeking comfort and many other typical occurrences he’d seen a handful of times before.

What really caught Neuvillette’s eye was the way the parents behaved. And soon his focus shifted to the married couples instead. As reserved as the nobles seemed to appear, the ones in love still managed to slip a murmured ‘my dear’, or ‘beloved’ or ‘my sweet [Name]’ in their speech. All the things the Hydro Dragon was all too used to call you too, relishing in the image of your loving smile and joyfully crinkling eyes as you responded in kind.

But it is like a waterfall pours on him when a week later, after that tea party where he once again sunk deep in thought, a keen pointy ear makes out a simple word in the crowd.

"Wife"

Male’s heart flutters. The understanding quickly dawns on him, even more so when his eyes find the couple on the other side of the road, - it was no simple term to introduce the partner to the third party. No, the tenderly spoken word was used by that man to address his lover, to softly draw her attention to him, to remind her he is happy she is holding such a position in his life…

At least that’s what kind of puzzle pieces together in Neuvillette’s head. The couple is long gone, yet he is still standing there, hand resting on the handle of his cane and eyes staring into space.

He starts to remember all the sweet names he called you, each and every one stored in his memory with the heart-warming images of your reactions. There are all kinds of those: my love, my pearl, lizzy (affectionate from ‘lizard’; you used to tell him that dragons are just big lizards and it kinda stuck), kisses-stealer, fairy-tail nymph… The man is surprisingly creative with his words when it comes to you.

Sure, he calls you his mate, quite often too, but to his chagrin it has never occurred to him that he could call you ‘his wife’ too! It’s so simple, so absurdly logical, yet it took him weeks to figure out.

Humans are truly fascinating.

When Neuvillette returns to his office in the Palais Mermonia you are already there, lazing on a sofa with a bunch of papers, in which your husband guesses the script of probably another upcoming play of Furina. And judging by the more than a half pages turned you’ve been waiting for him for a while.

When the door closes and the cane disappears in the myriad of sparkling bubbles, you lift your gaze, and a smile immediately lights up your lovely features.

”Neuvi,” You speak softly, getting on your feet and leaving the script behind, “I hoped we’d depart on the afternoon stroll together. So imagine my disappointment when Sedene told me you had left just ten minutes ago! Oh, I knew I’d be late if Lady Furina had kept me for another minute, yet I still hoped I’d be on time…”

As you are approaching him, the Judex remembers the melusine’s words upon arrival: “Mother waits inside”. This makes all his previous thoughts resurface, and when he meets you half-way and reaches for both your hands to place a kiss to the back of each, Neuvillette has half a mind to try out his new discovery.

“Our Archon enjoys your company a lot, and, knowing you, you are not really mad,” you roll your eyes playfully, tiptoeing to peck the tip of his nose, murmuring a quiet ‘hush, let me be a tiny bit indignant’. “And I’d be honored to keep you company for the evening stroll,” and then, after a little pause of hesitation, he adds, “wife.”

He watches as the previously present smile on your face grows even bigger, but after a couple of seconds starts to fade slowly, eyes squinting a little bit to stare at him in hardly-concealed curiosity.

“What was that?”

“What was what, dear wife?”

“This!” As if to emphasize your words you point your finger to his mouth, and it’s Neuvillette’s lips’ turn to curl in a small smile.

“It’s something I hoped to discuss with you,” his gloved fingertips soothingly brush over your knuckles and soon your hand is clasped into his, as the man leads you both back to the sofa. “You see,” he starts when you sit down, “I am fascinated with the notion hidden behind the word ‘mother’ the melusines like to call you. That’s who you are for them both in reality and in terms. I’ve made some observations, and figured that sometimes humans in marriage also use the…familial terms to address one another. It seemed lovely to me and I wanted to try it out with you. What do you think?”

You hum in thought, replaying in your head the way Neuvillette spoke to you twice. It is hard to explain, but you somehow immediately see the appeal and understand why your lover got hooked on it. Seems lovely indeed. You wonder, what if you…

“Will you tell me more about those observations on our evening stroll, husband? Ooh, it does sound wonderful!”

Mark him stunned, but for a moment Judex grows speechless. The violet depths of his eyes swirl with adoration as you clap your hands gleefully, and he knows, that from now on your everyday routine will never be the same

“With pleasure, wife.”

Pantalone

Dancing snowflakes are slowly descending in their tender waltz and are gleaming like the tiniest of gems in the streetlights’, enveloping the already magical winter capital of the Cryo region in a solemn atmosphere. The white cover of the ground is crunching with every step of a passerby and every wheel rotation of the fancy-looking carriages, while the street is a jumble of fur coats and heavy military overcoats, finally breathing life into the afternoon-quiet city.

It’s a wonderful evening, too marvelous to spend it at home, too enchanting to miss the new ballet at the Bolshoy Theater, the true accumulation of the Tsaritsa’ nation’s nobility and intelligentsia. The wonder of Snezhnayan architecture is both the place to rest and enjoy the purest form of art and home to many gossip circulating in society. Some fresh and just hours old, some ancient and undying, like the topic of the Ninth Harbinger’s lovers.

Lord Pantalone is well-known and often-praised for his contribution to the Snezhnaya’s economy, along with extending the Fatui influence all across the Teyvat. But also he is quite famous for the women he appears in public with. It’s always someone new, it’s never the same one as before. Different shapes, different hair, different style - it is impossible to guess the raven-haired man’s tastes. However everybody knew - the Harbinger never entertained the company of the ladies who made attempts to catch his attention. Those ladies themselves say as much.

The Regrator’s companions never open their mouths, never utter a word - at least not when there are people around. There has never been a single name, never a remembered face - all women wear the mask covering the upper half of it, concealing the identity of yet another lucky choice of the rich man. 

Never the same woman - always the same mask.

This evening does not disappoint the gathered crowd - lifting their gazes, directing attention to the Harbinger’s personal box, they once again see the notorious mask. The long fringe of wine-red hair is coquettishly framing the ever-lasting piece of leather, similarly flaming lips are tugged in a haughty smile - as if the young lady doesn’t realize that once the night is over, she’s going to be discarded like many others before her. The dress according to the latest fashion trends and the beautiful garnet necklace do not surprise the audience anymore - even known for his love for replacements, Lord Pantalone dresses his partners royally.

The man himself has chosen yet another black costume, with a dark burgundy shirt hidden underneath and bird-shaped garnet brooch on the left side of his chest. Multiple beautiful rings catch the light when he lifts his gloved hand to adjust diamond-shaped glasses, before turning his head and addressing something to his tonight’s escort. She boisterously laughs, saying something in response, but even if attendants tried to strain their ears, they wouldn’t hear anything so far away. Even harder it gets when the third ring of the bell echoes across the theater chamber and both the Harbinger and the woman are forgotten, until the performance is over.

So no one sees when the ring-decorated hand reaches for a smaller female one, fingers sliding under the chintz-covered palm, thumb immediately reaching to tug on the hem of the glove, so the thin cool lips could press against the small patch of bared skin. A glimpse of a smile is what Pantalone gets when you glance at him with amusement playing on your lips.

Always the same mask, never the same woman, huh? 

Pride has long slithered into your heart, yet it still lifts its snake-like head every time your act of decisiveness succeeds, happily hissing. Every time it’s a test of your skills, a gamble with the eyes of ones around you, and every time you hit the jackpot, leaving the people guessing, staying the only one in possession of the banker despite the speculations.

As long as Her Majesty Tsaritsa is aware of your existence and the place you occupy next to Pantalone, you are free to do anything you want with his reputation relationship-wise. And he allows it, because should you desire the whole world - he’ll throw it to your feet like the cheapest trinket. One would say it’s because he is prideful too - he knows it’s because he loves his wife.

Loves to the point of entertaining the masquerades she stages whenever the two of you need to appear in public. It plays wonderfully into his possessive nature and desire to keep his precious beautiful wife to himself and helps with the enemies - “changing the ladies” minimizes the chances of putting at risk his one and only. Not like many know of you in the first place.

It’s a win-win arrangement for you as well - there is still an opportunity to cling to his arm, to use his expensive cologne, to play with the rings on his fingers and sneakily make out in a dark corner where no one can see. To be tugged into his lap in the carriage on the way back to his mansion, to have his long fingers undo the strings of the mask, and once the piece of leather falls onto the floor, have the palms slide down the sides of your neck, swiftly fiddling with the heavy necklace, only to let it be, the caress the shoulders, pushing the sleeves down… 

…to leave them at the elbows and grab your arms to push your back into his chest as the warm lips press to the juncture between the neck and the shoulder.

And what if you’ve lost your name in the process of this disguising? Having been an actress a long time ago made you used to it. But isn’t it fun to come up with the new ideas for your next performance? Your husband gifts you way too many dresses and jewelry sets - you must find use to all of them! He now has to simply spend a bit more on the wigs and makeup to fit each combination of fabric and gems.

“Did my wife have a pleasant evening?” The velvet voice of the man behind you caresses the ear and you meet his gaze in the full-size mirror in front of you. Amethyst eyes sparkle in the bedroom light and you smile coquettishly, red lips stretching seductively.

“Did she? How could I know?” You tease, reaching to your back to undo the corset, just to be stopped by his hands, fingers digging into the dozens of strings. “And don’t you know, Mr Harbinger, that it’s very offending for the woman, when the man speaks about another lady in her presence?”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware,” he muses, tugging a bit harsher on the ties and making you gasp, “that my dear wife can be jealous of herself.”

“When you know her poorly. Tsk-tsk, what a bad husband you are.”

Pantalone laughs behind you, shaking his head at your untrue words, and you reach to your head to remove the fiery wig. By the time Pantalone is done with your corset, you are done letting your naturally beautiful locks down, sighing in relief from both the released ribcage and hair roots.

The dress, having lost its vital support on your body, falls to the ground next to the wig and quickly becomes forgotten as you two step away from the mirror.

Your husband is still mostly clothed, having only eased out of his coat and unbuttoned the jacket, so you busy your hands with tugging the black article off and then reaching for the gleaming tiny buttons on the shirt. Your figures bask in the warm light of the room as you continue undressing the man - your eyes concentrated on the expensive fabrics, his - on the lovely expression of your face.

“But if you must know,” Pantalone raises his brow, when you look up at him, a much sincere and tender smile lighting up your visage, “your wife loved the evening very much.”

And that’s everything he’s ever wanted to hear. Fingers tangle in your hair, you harshly inhale, and his lips are on yours. Lipstick is smudging, your fingers accidentally catch the silver chain, and his glasses get slightly askew, but it doesn’t matter. His wife loved another thing he’s done for her. The banker’s day has ended in a great profit.

Wriothesley

Fortress of Meropide is a huge metal labyrinth of floors and corridors, where noise is never-ending even in the late hours of the night. The metal box which is the Duke’s office however, is constructed to mute the annoying sounds or else the one inside would have a very hard time concentrating.

Usually, even the ruckus happening outside and the clanking of the heavy machines underneath can’t sway Wriothesley’s attention if he has his mind set on doing the paperwork, even something as boring as bills. Today, however, the man has caught himself multiple times glancing at the clock he’s hung up a couple of years ago - there is no way to tell the time all the way down underwater, true, but it serves him a greater purpose. It helps him count hours and minutes before you arrive.

Tuesdays and Thursdays are the days when you take a half of the day off to come down to the Fortress to meet up with your husband. You both quickly realized that traveling back and forth together in either of the directions (fortress or home in the city) would be way too inconvenient. So, you improvise by visiting him throughout the week a couple of times and then he comes home to properly spend the weekend, having learnt to delegate his responsibilities to the most trustworthy guards. So far you’ve been extremely pleased with the arrangement, and the Fortress’s crew have learnt your face by heart to not cause you any obstacles in reaching your beloved’s office.

Today, nevertheless, something must’ve gone wrong. Pale blue eyes are practically drilling the minute hand of the previously mentioned clock, watching it moving further and further from the tiny 10-minute bar, which should’ve marked your appearance at the top of his stairs. And he gets it, everything could’ve happened, something as trivial as the queue at the pastry shop that might’ve gotten longer today, but when the delay surpasses the half-hour mark, the warden puts his fountain pen down and follows it by the creak of the chair legs on the metal floor.

As he descends down the stairs - each clunking under the heavy soles of his boots - a fleeting thought of you stopping by at the medical bay first is immediately brushed aside - his office is right on the path of entering the Fortress’s main body, and you love your husband too much to let him sulk in his longing. 

When he pushes the colossal doors open, eyes instantly start searching the area ahead of him. However, nothing unusual is spotted - two guards are standing at the front of his abode, not even flinching at the unpleasant scraping noise the metal makes; a couple of inmates are walking past them, bowing their heads right as they see the appearing the figure of their warden - Wriothesley simply nods and sends them off with a flicker of his hand; then there is Monglane’s desk with its irreplaceable owner. And no trace of his beloved wife.

Closing the doors behind him, Wriothesley comes up to the guards, inquiring if they’ve happened to see you. Getting a negative response, he hums and starts walking forward, to the corridor leading to the elevator, not bothering with asking the very same questions to Monglane.

With every passing minute, especially while waiting for the elevator, the man starts realizing how impatient he is growing, if the tapping of his foot and crossed arms are not an indicator enough. Even with just one day apart, he’s missed you so awfully much, your adoring smile, your soft voice and cute little giggles, that he feels rightfully robbed since you are not yet in his embrace, showering his face with kisses and then whining pretentiously because he’s forgotten to shave once again. Sometimes you swear he is not a big bad wolf, but a mean huge hedgehog.

He almost stomps inside the cabin the second its doors slide open and pushes the button to the reddening of his fingertip. It is a long trip up to the next level, and he admits he’s tugged on his leather straps wrapped around his arms a couple of times, but Archons, how little it all matters, when, exiting the elevator, he finally hears such a familiar voice. Your voice.

Your husband’s legs carry him like they obtained a mind of their own, following the full of amusement lilt he knows can belong only to you, just to come to a halt next to the wooden boxes piled up on the side of the path. 

He can see you, quite clearly, adorned in a cute pair of pants and a shirt, shoulders covered in a crocheted shawl - always ready for the cool air of the Fortress, yet looking so comfy, that Wriothesley can't help but desire to tackle you to the sofa in his office and cuddle this instant. And he would've done just that, if the conversation you've been having didn't catch his attention.

“No, it's wrong again. It's not Britney, it's Brytnneigh.

“But you are saying the same thing!"

"No, it is not B-r-i-t-n-e-y. It's B-r-y-t-n-n-e-i-g-h."

"Slower, please."

In the second voice the warden easily guesses a new guard that has just been employed a couple of days ago. He remembers signing the papers his weekend substitute brought him on Monday. Wriothesley also remembers how the man swore that he’d passed on to the newbie all the information and training he needed to know. But, it appears, he forgot to mention the most important thing…

“Did you make sure to write my name with two N’s?” Your voice is laced with hardly concealed mirth, and, though he can’t see the face of the guard talking to you, your husband is sure the poor young man looks quite miserable.

“Yes, mademoiselle, I did.”

“Wonderful, but it’s ‘madame’, I am a married woman after all. But no worries, I am flattered you think I look so young,” Wriothesley shakes his head with a silent chuckle. He adores you so much, but maybe it really is time to stop your little play of a new inmate, or else he’ll surely have to call for Sigewinne to check on the poor guard.

“And your last name, madame?”

“I am Brytnneigh Deirdrophnea de Troistêtesloup. Do you want me to spell it for you, dear?”

Yes, he really should stop you.

Before you can open your mouth again, you see in your peripheral vision a figure moving. Upon turning your head slightly, you are graced with the sight of your beloved husband, walking towards you with a quirked thick brow, and crossed arms. All you can do is sheepishly smile, waving at him.

“O-oh! Duke Wriothesley, Sir!” The guard behind the registration desk immediately jumps to his feet, squaring his shoulders and saluting at the arrival of his superior.

“At ease, young man,” Wriothesley nods, stepping even closer, practically invading your personal space, icy blue eyes looking at you unblinkingly. “What is going on here?”

“Nothing much, Mr Warden,” your eyes crinkle in the corners, a sight so infectious, that the man’s lips turn into a small smile. “Just a cute old me, ending up in the Fortress for Archon knows what time.”

“M-madame!” The guard exclaims rather loudly, that even your husband turns to look at him. “Even if it's not your first stay here, you shouldn’t be taking liberties with the Duke!”

“No, no, it’s alright,” Wriothesley raises his hand. “She is no longer your headache-”

“Hey!” You elbow his side to the bewilderment of the guard. In his shock he doesn’t even reach for his weapon.

“-I will personally escort this troublemaker inside. And cross out that abominable name out, would you? It’s not her name.”

“It’s not..?” Now Wriothesley really sympathizes with the guy, he looks utterly lost.

“It’s not. But,” a big scarred hand gently cups you under the chin and turns your head more properly towards the guard, “be sure to remember this adorable face very well for the next time. You’ll need that to let her in and out.”

“...out?”

“Yes, indeed. This woman is my wife.”

As the elevator doors slide close and the cabin starts moving down, you turn to Wriothesley and throw your arms around his wide frame, face burying into his chest.

“Are you proud of me for coming up with such a long and difficult name in a single thought?”

“Oh, for sure,” strong arms circle your waist and chapped lips press to the top of your head, “I bet you would be hard-to-catch if you were a criminal. But why did you decide to play such a prank on a poor man?”

“Well… I just wanted to see his face when he found out that I am the wife of the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide himself. Another reason is that there was no guard who knew my face and I doubt he would’ve believed my word. I just got creative with the way of making him summon someone else. You simply got here before anything could happen. Plus, it’s good to keep them on their toes with a job like that. Besides, I did apologize and praise him for his patience.”

At that Wriothesley just sighs and then chuckles, raising one of his hands and threading his fingers through your hair, pressing your head even closer to his chest. He is not even feeling iffy about the lost half an hour of your time together anymore. Because you gave him an opportunity to introduce you as his wife once again.

[catscidr]

hi helloooo hope ure doing great !! could i pls req childe who constantly flirts with a shy reader who gets super duper flustered by it ???? childe + opposites attract + mutual pining lives rent free in my head >3>

ur in luck bc i AM indeed doing great!! mostly bc i wrote this. like oh GOD i love him he's so boyfriend agshnfga writing this made me giggle and kick my legs. was actually tweaking. im so weak for him sometimes DAMMIT ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, modern/college au, idiot in love x idiot in love, crack if you squint? childe and reader r just silly. only slightly proofread because i was too excited (sue me) includes: fem!reader, childe wc: 1k

It’s not like you didn’t want to be here, stuck between two very rowdy students cheering for their friends, because you were in the bleachers for the same reason anyways; to cheer on your own friend! But you’d prefer doing it without the constant shouts coming from the other students. 

Previously, Tartaglia had insisted (read: begged) that you come watch his soccer matches, even if some were just for practice. I play better when I know you’re in the stands, he said earlier before he left you to your own thoughts, walking away to change into his uniform. It had been maybe half an hour since then and yet you couldn’t shake the conversation from your head, not when he kept meeting your gaze from the soccer field, flashing you a bright smile as he ran for the ball.

Your relationship with the redhead was a confusing one. As one of the popular students, Tartaglia naturally always had his own group of (equally popular) friends around him but, recently, he’s been hanging out with you more often. Saying something along the lines of him needing to take after you to mellow out his loud personality in comparison to your introverted one. You’d argue that it wasn’t necessary, that his energy was one of the things that drew you to him ; and as much as he likes to come up with excuses to hang out with you without you bolting in the opposite direction, you know you’ll always fall for his boyish charm, no matter how shitty his excuse is. 

The sudden sound of shouts pulls you from your thoughts, a surprised yelp leaving your lips. Focusing your attention back on the field you watch as your friend gets engulfed by a group hug, the team cheering loudly- seems like in your daydream he managed to score a goal. The two guys next to you were standing up, cheering for them enthusiastically. 

Overwhelmed by the sheer energy radiating from them, you focus your attention back on Tartaglia. He meets your eyes, his smile widening even further if it were possible, and waves at you energetically. You wave back sheepishly, cheeks flushed. 

✧✧✧ 

“I told you I play better when you’re watching!” Tartaglia says with a teasing grin, lightly pushing your shoulder. You make a noise of surprise, covering it up with a cough as you raise your fist up to your mouth to hide your bashful expression. Whether he noticed the way you stiffened at his touch or not, he does a good job not showing it. “Did a whole hat trick thanks to you. Well, the soccer equivalent of it at least...” he continues sheepishly, mindlessly fiddling with the strap of his bag slung over his shoulder. 

“How does that even work, anyways? Usually, people feel more pressure when there’s a crowd watching them...” you argue quietly, matching his long strides as you walked together along campus to go back to the gym changing rooms. Most people that came to watch the match had already left, however you and Tartaglia had been stuck behind due to him getting stopped by friends and acquaintances. Which worked in your favor since you disliked dealing with large crowds. 

“Eh, I don’t care about other people. All I care about is having your pretty eyes on me,” he says with a wink. 

Your legs stop abruptly, a flush decorating your cheeks, gaze never leaving the floor as you try to get your heart to calm down. How can he say something like that so casually? Is he messing with you because he has ulterior motives or is he- 

“Heyheyhey, you doing alright over there? I didn’t break you, did I?” You hear Tartaglia calling your name, waving his hand in front of your face with a lighthearted chuckle. Pulling yourself out of your frozen state, you look up at the playful expression your friend wore, cheeks puffing out as you find yourself lacking a comeback. He notices your sullen frown and places a hand on your head, ruffling your hair playfully. 

“Oh come on, don’t sulk now!” the redhead whines, “that was tame. You and I both know I’m capable of saying much worse than that,” he declares confidently, deep blue eyes looking down at you with a playful grin. A grin that seemed to never leave his face, much to your displeasure- how were you supposed to pull yourself together when he looked like the human incarnation of the sun? 

“Don’t,” you mumble quietly, picking up the pace with your head hanging low, physically unable to face him anymore. Sure, you didn’t have the biggest group of friends and went out less than most people, but you were convinced he was shamelessly flirting with you. Why else would he be so close to you, relentlessly teasing you like this? Oh god, what if he’s like this with everyone? Maybe this is how he jokes around with his friends... Wait, speaking of Tartaglia, where did he- 

You bump into a hard surface. Opening your eyes, you’re met with a damp soccer tee, glistening muscles and freckled skin. Tilting your head up slowly, you’re met with your crush-friend-classmate-guy looking at you with raised brows and quirked up lips. He places one hand on his hip, observing your beet red face with glee. 

“I didn’t even do anything this time, princess. Everything okay?” the redhead asks with an airy chuckle. Oh god, you thought. Wish I walked into a wall instead. 

“Y-Yeah. Uh huh. Everything’s just peachy,” you respond with a thumbs up, the corners of your lips curling up into what you thought was a reassuring smile but seemed more like a nervous grimace to the soccer player. He didn’t buy your excuse. Instead of leaving it as it is, Tartaglia brings a hand up to his chin and looks up, dramatically faking a thought process. 

“Hmm... I wonder what you could have been so distracted by? Was it my arms? My charms? Or was it-” 

“Your body odor. You reek of sweat, go shower,” you squeak out, face burning as you scurry away from the source of your (delicious) torment, your heart running a marathon beneath your ribcage all the while Tartaglia laughs loudly in the hallway, speedwalking to catch up to you.

[ghostarii]

childe is a dirty bastard with a nasty obsession for you. he finds you so beautiful, so gorgeous and filled to the brim with visual blessings. he can’t help how his cock grows and hardens at the sight of your filled out frame and he can’t leave himself that way . . . so he jerks off. wraps his calloused hand around his thick cock and drags it up and down with shut eyes and a gaped mouth, imagining it was your soft hands making him feel good. he did this often, hiding in bathrooms or waiting until he gets home and releasing all over his sheets. but at some point, it’s not enough.

so, if you ever get a text from your good friend childe, reading “attachment: 1 video”, don’t be surprised when you see his cock sliding in and out of a fuck doll. the sound is lewd and nasty—squelching and wet slapping that rings off in unison with his grunts and pretty moans. he moans your name, groping the fake tits of the doll, “so fucking pretty for me . . . ngh, fuck—“ he had to let you know how he felt. what you do to him. so he raises the angle of his phone, showing the tablet that displays a selfie of you—one you sent to him when asking him which lipstick shade looked better on you. he groans louder, pounding the doll even furiously, “you’re gonna make me fuckin’ cum . . .”

he said he wanted to breed that tight cunt and make you his. you hadn’t even realized the video was three minutes long and you were nearing the end. he whimpers as he pounds tougher, snapping his hips against the doll with sniffles of your name and begs for his release. and then he cums. spills his seed deep in the doll with a guttural moan and fucked up camera angle as he doubles over. there’s a shuffling sound and then you can see clearly: see the load of cum spilling out of the doll, and he fingers the spill back in, moaning at the sight. “‘ts gonna be you next . . .” he murmurs, and the video ends.

you never saw him that way. he was your friend. but that promise he made at the end had your cunt throbbing, waiting for that treatment.

[stragefields]

Don‘t wanna lose you pt.1

POV: You‘re an adventurer at the adventures guild in Liyue so you have to leave for an mission while Childe was also on a mission in Fontaine but unknowing to you he was also in Fontaine to buy you a proposal ring. But at the day he finally got home he can‘t find you…

TW!!

angst but comfort at the end, hurt, mention of death, mention of blood, mention of wounds, violence, mentions of Dottore LMAO

Finally Childe would be home with the love of his life after so tiring and demanding weeks again and after such a long time he just want you un his arms while he shows how much he missed you. But the fatehas other plans for him.

As he got home at a rainy afternoon you not came to him as usual to greet him on the door. There wasn‘t any sign of you in the house. Childe became an anxious feeling. What if after such a long time living with you peaceful his background is stretching his claws to the person the loves the most to really hurt him. Scratches and even the worst wounds couldn‘t hurt him that much like somebody hurts his family. But maybe you weren‘t in danger you could just be at friends…but everytime you leave him a message on the kitchen table even if he wasn’t at home.

So he ran off to Katheryne to ask her where you where your latest mission was and what it was. As he heard that you just should observe the Fatui base in Avidya Forest his blood begun to freeze. He knows you. He knows that you wouldn‘t only observe. You are a warrior like him you take every opportunity to fight. Of course you‘re strong, you could already beat him in his Foul Legacy form when he was barely holding back. But this was different now. You were in a foreign terrain and at the main base in Sumeru are people who Childe wouldn‘t even trust on a easy task not to speak from the Ruin Guards and Hunters who are manufactured there.

After hours of concern and unknown he finally got to the base.

As he entered the Domain where many Fatui Soldiers are stationed and Dottore has his place to work and experiment, the soldiers bowed from the harbinger. „Where I can find the doctor“ Childe asked emotionless. „ I-in the labor Sir Tartaglia“ a young soldier said. Right after hearing a weak whimper from the labor Childe accelerated his already fast steps and right after he opened the door he saw you.

𝖸𝗈𝗎. It was really you. His girl. The person who was a important part of his family. The Person he can laugh, cry and make love with. The person he want to be with forever is lying on a examination table unable to move, screaming in pain and eyes wide in horror. And Dottore 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗍 is just standing there and watching you with a small grin what his injection does with your body.

In the next moment Childe doesn‘t even know what he does. He kicks Dottore to the side and as he lays on the ground he straddles him and punches him in the face. Some Fatui soldiers were alerted by the sounds of breaking bones so they stormed in only to be confronted by a panting and blooding Dottore with no sign of other persons…

Childe was running

He was running for his life. No, he was running for your life because he knew that every minute can decide between life and death and he won‘t allow himself to loose you. He won‘t it allow that 𝗀𝗈𝖽𝗌 that they destroy what you two have build up over these years.

__________________________________________

now this was the first part of the series which will probably have 2 parts + an epilogue but please accept that i need to write some other ideas because for this series i have lack of inspiration.

so if you have any ideas for this series or for upcoming series let me know in the asking box!

now i will plan an orientation post with masterlist and a list of upcoming projects.

bye and have a great time

[newtabfics]

Could you maybe do Childe but like taunting and rough and being an absolute menace for the fun of it? Nsfw, if that's alright.

I'm in the process of planning out a fic revolving around this sorta thing and UGH YES. GIVE. ME. THAT. HARBINGER.

He smirked as he held her down, watching her eyes roll back in pleasure. "You wanted this, didn't you?" He cooed before thrusting hard enough to make her choke. "You know you love it!" He snarled.

"Fuck," Y/N whined, nails digging into his back. "Ch-Childe, fuck," She moaned as she tensed again.

"Already. What's that? Fourth one? At this rate, we'll definitely hit the double digits." He pressed deep, grinding down into her as his teeth caught her ear. "I wonder if we can hit triple," He cooed, making her shudder and flush. "You're mine, comrade," He hummed before thrusting rapidly again.

[hitomisuzuya]

Foul Legacy (Tartaglia) x fem!reader. Smut. Misuse of Hydro Vision/Hydro tentacles. Size kink. Breeding kink. Creampie. Two brief mentions of anal play.

I know this is different then what I normally write, but I wanted to get this out of my system. If Childe can make whole ass weapons from Hydro, then he can manifest tentacles 😤

It took you months, many months to convince Tartaglia to fuck you in his Foul Legacy form. He was pretty firm on the answer being no. When you asked him why, he said he might accidentally lose control, and break you in half. His size was also a factor.

Too bad for Tartaglia that his reasons send a jolt of curious arousal through you.

You even went as far as saying, "Just treat it like you would combat."

Tartaglia has a tried and true method that always works when you brought it this up. One that he thought worked well enough until now: fuck you until you were senseless and drooling, even babbling about how you wanted him to fuck a baby inside of you.

However, you started pouting your lower lip out when you asked in a way that made him weak. He finally relented, coming up a method that would help you prove you could take his size.

Never for one second did you think it would be anything like this.

A Hydro tentacle was secured around your wrists, dangling you in front of Tartaglia, now transformed into Foul Legacy. Two tentacles circled and teased around your nipples, with one more pumping in and out of your sopping pussy.

He has a unique form of sensation from the tentacles, all of it transferring straight to his cock. He could your walls clenching around the tentacle like his cock was inside you. You were defenseless dangling in front of Foul Legacy, forced to look at his thick, leaking cock getting harder the more he abused your hole as shameless moans spilled from your throat.

An embarrassed blush dusted your cheeks. "Aww, what's the look for? You weren't all shy proudly boasting you could take my cock like this," Tartaglia cooed, cocking another tentacle up to agonizingly circle your swollen clit before curling around to circle your other hole teasingly.

You jolted in the tentacles grasp, your moans becoming tinged with whimpers. He laughed at the your reaction. "I don't know why I didn't do this sooner," He is absolutely trembling. Not from exertion, but from euphoria.

The same euphoria he got when he felt blood lust in the heat of battle. You are his prey, and his prize for catching you would doing whatever he pleased. Groaning, he rutted into the hand stroking his cock as he watched you struggle to grind and squirm on the tentacle.

You opened your mouth in an attempt to form words, but what came out were moans that sounded twice as shameless trying to convey you were going to cum. Tartaglia somehow understood what you trying to say.

"Going to cum from a little foreplay?" He teased, prodding the tip of the tentacle around your other hole for a moment just to see you shake more. "How cute. You sure aren't disappointing me," The pace of the tentacle increased, and you could feel his predatory gaze cutting right to the bone behind his mask.

He was assaulting sensitive places on your body all at once, your body quaking from the slippery stimulation of the tentacles on your nipples sending extra jolts of pleasure to your clit. "You are practically drooling," A tentacle came up to poke at your lips.

Your tongue lewdly swept out to curl around the tentacle, your moans turning muffled as he pushed into your mouth. He could feel the greedy sucking of your mouth on the tentacle on his pulsing cock.

Tartaglia was enjoying the utter sadism of it all. Your pussy was stretching apart so well around the tentacle, your shaking little body struggling to keep up with the onslaught of pleasure snowballing all your senses. The tentacle was only about half the size of his massive cock.

You let out a muffled moan of protest as he took the tentacles off of your nipples, and out of your pussy and mouth. Leaving the tentacle wrapped around your wrists, he brought you to dangle over his cock. Your pussy in anticipation as you looked down at it.

His cock was bigger than you originally anticipated, and you more than felt that as he grinded his cockhead against your pussy. "We will see how long you last," He sounded utterly gleeful as his hands found your hips.

Your shivered as his talons pressed against your flesh as he lowered you onto his cock. Your body tensed in pain, your back arching as you felt every pulse and drag of his cock stretching you apart. It shocked you into momentary silence.

You felt a tentacle slither across your clit, immediately drawing moans from you again. He struggled to be as gentle as he could. At first. Your pussy just felt too good tightening and struggling to accommodate him. "So..so..big," You finally managed to moan your only coherent words since this all started.

Tartaglia growled in approval. Holding you in place, he bottomed out with a short, fluid stroke of his hips. Blood beaded underneath his claws as he brought down further on his cock, a near scream of pleasure tearing from you the pain suddenly shattered into euphoria.

When you didn't think you could stretch apart any more, you swiftly proven wrong as his cock bullied relentlessly into your sweet spot. You were fast falling apart as he practically rearranged your guts he was that deep.

Tartaglia guided you up and down on his cock, the Hydro tentacles curling up around your nipples again. You mewled in pleasure, your walls squeezing around his cock. He left the tentacle secured around your wrists so he could have both his hands fucking you onto his cock, he knew he was too big for you to ride it without his help.

"That's right, keep moaning just like while I fuck you full," Tartaglia groaned, hissing as he felt your walls tightening on the verge of being shoved over the edge. He increased his pace, eager you feel you shatter while you creamed on his cock.

This was the most intensely intimate experience of your life. Your body felt limp in grips of overwhelming pleasure, your eyes half lidded and hazy as you as your body jolted in pleasure. His cock kissing into your sweet spot as the tentacle assaulted your clit and nipples ultimately made you come apart.

"Fuck, you are cumming hard," Tartaglia moaned as your pussy spasmed on his cock. His claws skimmed soothingly as on your hips as you shook from your orgasm. The sensation made cum ribbon inside of you.

He grit his teeth, fucking you down onto his cock as he fierce need to breed you thoroughly consumed him. His cum was bound to come seeping out of you when he pulled out. He was determined to fuck as much of it inside of you as he could.

[dobbie-doo]

˗ˏˋ ꒰ VOICE LINES..ABOUT Y/N꒱ ˎˊ˗ wanderer, ayato, tartaglia, albedo,dain

Do you want to know what the characters think about you ?

✧ status — has a liking for you.. enjoy reading !!

✧ Wanderer

— "Why did you suddenly decide to stick your nose in, and with such questions? Hm, I owed her a favor, so… She’s extremely annoying, and sometimes I think I’ll really go live as a hermit in the Avidya forest or somewhere where her presence won’t be a burden.. Hm? Why are you looking at me like that?"

✧ Ayato Kamisato

— "How is that traveler who was with you last time? I hope I didn’t scare her too much back then, since she decided not to honor me with her presence this time. Funny, don’t you think?"

✧ Tartaglia

— "Have you seen her? Where? Lately, it’s like she’s been avoiding me… Especially after our skirmish, when Y/N dared to attack my subordinates… Do you think that’s the case? Come on, I figured it out a long time ago, but you know, this game of cat and mouse adds more excitement! Teucer misses his dear sister Y/N.."

✧ Albedo

— "At first, I tried to make her my test subject, within reasonable limits, of course. However, she never let me do it. Do I really look that scary? Maybe I should be more friendly with Y/N? I like studying her, but human relationships are so tiring and complicated. Although, we always meet her, even when the chance is extremely small. Who is this mysterious person?"

✧ Dainsleif

— "Me and that girl became close? Ahem, I don’t understand what you mean, Traveler. Love affairs have long ceased to mean anything to me - it’s a waste of time, even when it is eternal. Did you see us together in the Luhua Lake?.. I’m sure you got it wrong."

[floylia]

— your highness, my princess

The thrill of danger lingers in Childe’s veins more often than not. Bloodshed does not scare him. His blades have known him for almost a lifetime as he holds them dear day and night. He had once sworn to be used as a machine in battle, and he intends to keep it.

At the moment his blades swing against a wooden dummy as it holds on for dear life. From anyone watching his aggression is not something to be taken lightly. There’s blaze in his eyes, replaced by the lack of sparks. Sweat drips down from every direction of his body. But his stamina doesn’t break. He doesn’t stop. Because once he does, he’ll be back to reality.

A reality where he’s born to protect the crown and its heir.

To protect and serve someone that’s far from his grasp: you.

It haunts him, how his loyalty will forever be yours, but he can’t say the same for you. One day you’ll take up the crown, marry someone of the same status and have children of your own—all while he watches, so close yet so far.

So he swings. For every battle in the field. For every battle against himself to stop his heart from beating for you. For every time he forgets his place. For every time he lets go as only Ajax in your presence. For every time he wishes to be just a boy helplessly drowning in feelings he doesn’t deserve to have.

And for every time you visit him practicing privately in the early mornings.

“How long are you going to keep staring, your highness?” He was trained for this. He would know someone else’s presence, especially yours. It’s always you.

“How long are you going to keep practicing?” You cross your arms, borrowing his smile.

He can’t tell if his heart is beating rapidly from adrenaline or from the sweet smile of your face, “All day if that means I get to have your attention.”

“I didn’t see you this morning.”

“You’re incredibly needy, my princess”

“You’re aware of that.”

It’s bittersweet. How you can talk to each other acting like there’s no consequences. As if you’re walking in a limbo not caring if you fall. If only it was that easy. To cross the line. To push you off the edge so he can catch you and hold you in his arms like he does in his dreams.

He’d stay there for an eternity if he could have you.

“What’s wrong?” You tilt your head and reach up to his head with a cloth, swiping the drops of sweat from his forehead.

He closes his eyes and leans into the touch, “Did my princess miss me that much that she’d take her time to visit me in my quarters?”

“Aren’t you over-doing it?” You ask and he sees the evident concern form in your eyes.

He loves it. He loves your attention.

“You sound concerned, your highness. Do I take it you’re doubting my abilities?”

You shake your head, “It’s hard to find you around the palace. It’s as if you’re deliberately ignoring me.”

“Who would ever ignore the princess?” It almost sounds sarcastic, because maybe it is.

He has been avoiding you, rather he’s been ignoring his feelings and thoughts enveloping only you as he wakes. It’s hard to hold back when every silhouette he sees reminds him of you.

Then he sees a frown on your face. He hates that—that he’s the reason for your pain.

He clears his throat, “Would you like to go anywhere today, your highness?”

“I hate when you call me that.”

“It’s your title.”

“I’m your princess.”

“What difference would it make, your highness?” He’s riling you up the way you do to him as he inches closer to your face, until he can see the blush on your face down to your neck.

You stay there for a minute before you move away from him, “There’s a ball this evening.”

“Yes, I’ve heard. Anything you’d wish for me to do?”

“Don’t attend.”

He laughs but it’s an empty one, “One minute you’re looking for my attention and the next you’re pushing me away.”

“He’s going to be there.”

He flinches. He—the one you’re set to marry. At least that’s everyone’s expcrations, whether you pull through with it or not, only time will tell. He swears there’s an invisible knife twisting itself in his chest, agonizingly slow to make it more painful than it has to be.

“Why does that matter?” He asks and his eyes are burning brighter than before. He leans towards you once again, but this time it’s with purpose. Almost predatory. He’s backing you up in a corner until his arm stretches to the wall, trapping you in, “Why should I care about him?”

“Ajax.” You whisper, staring into his eyes as if you’re not fazed by his sudden action. Perhaps you’ve wanted this, and that thought excites him.

He tilts your neck upwards and his fingers rest there, tracing your jaw, “Why can’t I be there?”

He leaves his hand on your jaw and focuses on removing the strands of hair covering your neck line to get a better view—a part of him wants to dig into it, to claim it and tell the whole world that you’re reserved for him, “Are you afraid, your highness?”

He traces your body—his touch is hot and desperate as he snakes his hands along your waist and on your back, playing with the short ribbon holding your dress together as he loosens it slightly, “Will you let him touch you like this?”

You lean into him, hoping to feel his lips, but his only hovers above yours, “What would you do if I did?”

He chuckles, dangerously low. His hands lowered down your body, passing your dress, now caressing your legs in ways you enjoy—in ways he’s memorized before, “I’d kill him.”

You put your hands against his cheeks, “You’re killing me too.”

“Is that true, your highness?” His hands rest at the back of your thigh, lifting one leg up as he leans in, nipping at your ear. You gasp at his hot breath.

“Will you let him get this close too?” His attention moves to your neck. You tilt your head so he can have access to it, as he trails wet kisses along the side.

You wrap your arms around his neck as your fingers weave through his soft hair.

“You’re not giving me an answer,” His voice is hoarse.

“You’re not giving me a chance to answer.”

“If I didn’t, my lips would be on yours the whole time.”

“Why isn’t it?”

“Impatient and needy. What would the people say if they found out the princess acts like this in private?”

You intertwine your hand with his and places it on top of your chest, so he can feel the rapid pace of your heart rising up and down, “You won’t let them see.”

“Don’t be so confident,” He moves up to your jaw.

“I didn’t take you to be someone who shared.”

His lips continued to hover yours. For a minute it feels like time surrendered their hands for the two of you, lending you a moment of peace in each other’s arms where birth given titles are replaced with vows of love.

This, out of all the life-threatening battles he has experienced has to be the most difficult fight he doesn’t think he can survive. But if it’s you holding the blade, if it’s you twisting the knife, then he’ll die happily.

If it means he can hold you like this. Touch you in ways another cannot.

“You’re right, I’m not.” He replies after the prolonged silence.

Then his lips are on yours, finally giving in to his urges. It starts off slow and patient, opposite of what he is. Then he wills your mouth open. He holds onto the back of your neck like a lifeline, pulling you closer each time you gasp for breath. It feels like hours passed, before you broke off the kiss, and he appears as if he’s desperate for more.

“You’re killing me, my princess.”

“Guess we’re even. Shall we continue in my chambers?” You say accompanied by a sweet smile and an innocent flutter of your eyes as you pull him closer, arms around his neck.

And who is he to refuse.

After all, you’re his princess, and he’s your knight—lawfully and willfully worshipping the cathedral of your chest, treasuring the heart that also keeps his beating.