#genshin drabble

[sixosix]

wanderer can fly; you cannot. he makes it his problem.

“What? Giving up already?”

“Shut—” heaving, you barely have the energy to flip him off, “shut the fuck up. Fuck off.”

Wanderer chuckles, all low and mean, as if his entire purpose in life is to ridicule you. He continues ascending overhead, moving and looking like an angel, but the words that come out of his mouth are far from angelic. “Careful, now. I know you overestimate yourself, but I won’t save you if you continue to scale a mountain with one hand.”

“Stop agitating me on purpose then!” You nearly slip from the intensity of your yell, but thankfully, it isn’t your time yet.

“How can I? You’re cute when you’re mad.”

Grumbling, you focus back on the mountain. Cute when mad. He must think he’s goddamn adorable, then.

You’re starting to lose sight of dents or protruding surfaces to get a hold of, and the mountain is getting steeper. You curse under your breath. If only you had Geo or Dendro—that’d help a lot much more. Maybe even Anemo, but that would be admitting defeat to the man who’s currently watching you intently.

Wanderer scoffs when your breath hitches, the surface you’re holding onto crumbling. He descends until you’re eye level. “Idiot, I told you that it’d be safer if we didn’t climb this all the way.”

“I know my limit.” Maybe. You may or may not have gotten a little over-competitive and jumped a few times, but that shouldn’t be a problem.

“Not more than I do,” he says.

“Don’t say it like that, weirdo.” You appraise the mountain overhead and, with a sunken stomach, realize that he’s right. There’s still a long way to go, and it’s a long fall back.

“Damn,” you say. You turn to Wanderer and blink up at him with wide eyes, hoping he would take the hint without having to say it outright.

Wanderer sighs, holding out his arms. “Jump.”

“Are you serious?”

“I won’t let you fall—of course I’m fucking serious.”

You grit your teeth, wondering if it’s easier to humiliate yourself and jump into his arms or to let gravity do its work.

“Hey,” Wanderer says, gliding closer and hovering an arm behind your waist. “No stupid ideas. Just jump and hold onto me.”

It’s always unsettling when Wanderer is not acting all bratty, like you’re not quite sure if you should goad him back to being mean or watch him bristle when you point it out. It’s been happening too often recently. That must be saying something about him if his soft moments are scarier than his jabs.

Wordlessly, you reach out for his shoulder with one hand and hold back a yelp when the lack of balance causes you to slip. You hold on tight around his neck, eyes wide and heart jittery. Wanderer secures his arms, moving in one swift motion. Before you even know it, he has one arm on your back and the other under your knees.

“How convenient it must be to have a ride as your companion,” Wanderer mutters in amusement at your relieved face.

“Yeah. That’s why I keep you around,” you say as he glides upward, barely straining from your weight. He looks as unaffected as ever.

He looks as infuriatingly and devastatingly beautiful as ever.

“Ha,” his smile is all sharp, “and not because you have a little crush on me?”

“You follow me around because you do. Don’t get it twisted.”

He snorts, tipping on something a little more genuine. You wisely decide to stop ogling at his face and enjoy the view of the sky instead. The blue of his clothes and the shade of his eyes are much prettier, but you’d rather lose that than start squirming in his arms. Not when he’s carrying you bridal style and all.

Finally, he descends, hardly disturbing the grass with his grace. He sets you down, arms crossed, as you pat yourself off from dirt and stuff.

“Well?”

You eye him warily. “What do you want?”

“Some semblance of manners will do,” he says, then leans close as if he’s baring his face for you. He’s been less and less subtle recently, too.

Nonetheless, you find yourself smiling. The things he’d do just to get a kiss—it nearly makes you laugh out loud. But then he’d start getting all irritated like a cat, and you much prefer when he’s sweet like this. Sweet in his very Wanderer way, you mean.

You kiss him on the cheek. He puffs up like some proud peacock. He calls you adorable all the time, but he’s the one who’s acting like this. It’s no wonder you keep him around.

[lunaa-runee]

Imagine being Neuvillette's human mate. Originally, Neuvillette did everything to stay away from you, but every cell in his body craved you. Eventually, he gave in to his instincts. And he loved you with every fiber of his being. But the fact remained, you were human, and humans had such short lives. And even as you aged, and he did not, his love for you never changed. Even after you're long gone.

"I miss you, my love," the hydro sovereign whispered to the grave before him as the rain fell around him.

[vultursvolans]

— ☆ 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐋𝐘

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: when you fall ill, alhaitham takes care of you for the first time and you enjoy the way he shows his love when he thinks you aren’t watching

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: alhaitham x gn!reader. sfw. fluff. sick reader (nothing serious). established relationship. i get a bit yappy about him, sorry! 1k wc. masterlist

this piece is a submission for a flufftober event by spookuna ♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You lay on your side, feeling the warmth of Sumeru’s balmy sun kissing your skin as it cascaded through the windows.

The faint ticking of a clock on the wall filled the quiet room while soft footsteps moved around you. 

Alhaitham. 

You could have sworn he told you he was going to leave once he readied your breakfast so you were surprised he was still here. He was careful as his feet shuffled on the floor, avoiding waking you, but his attempts at silence only made him more pronounced. 

The clink of a glass on your nightstand, the rustles of fabric that eventually dissolved to murmurs—these were the sounds you had become hyper-aware of in your pretend slumber. 

Truth is, you’d been awake for the last half hour but your eyes remained shut out of curiosity for what he might do when he believed you weren't watching.

Your body felt heavy, and not just from the illness that plagued you, but from the weight of blankets he had tucked you in earlier. His attention was soothing, yet as he hovered around you, you sensed something endearing in the hesitance of his movements.

The bed dipped as he sat down and you heard a sigh escape him. It was foreign in its gentleness and spilled out of him like there was much on his mind. 

Was he… watching you? 

You were tempted to open your eyes and catch him in the act, but something told you to wait. For a moment, nothing happened until the sheets beneath you shifted.

Then, you felt it—a featherlight touch to your forehead. His fingers felt familiar and comforting while he checked your temperature, the pad of his thumb tracing light circles that made your heart ache in the sweetest way.

How did it feel, you wondered, to be so utterly indifferent to the world and then to finally let his guard down when it came to you?

It wasn’t long before you found your answer.

“You should take better care of yourself,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. There was a hint of frustration in his tone but underneath it was also something softer, more protective. “It’s unsettling seeing you this way.”

You pictured what his expression would be—furrowed brows and narrowing eyes while he tries to make sense of the emotions he’s not used to always showing. But if he knew you were awake, you’d tell him that he didn’t need to hide.

The gentle touch on your forehead moved to your cheeks, then traced the outline of your jaw, deliberately highlighting all the little features he had grown to love over the many months. 

“It’s quieter without you,” he said, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Alhaitham knew it was absurd to be talking to himself but without your voice, there was nothing to fill the silence.

There was a faint chuckle behind his words—he was beginning to understand what you meant when you told him ‘everyone is foolish when they’re in love’.

You heard him shift again, and then you felt something against your lips—a light, fleeting kiss so delicate you almost thought you imagined it. But the ghost of his touch lingered and it took almost everything in you to not break the illusion of sleep. 

He held you as if you were something precious and fragile to him but, to your dismay, he pulled away just as quickly as he had leaned in, and his immediate absence left you internally pouting.

The bed suddenly felt lighter and soon the realisation of him retreating toward the door started creeping in.

But just before he stepped out, he paused.

Unbeknownst to you, he cast a sideways glance in your direction, wondering how much longer he would have to wait before you stirred. Or how much longer he had to keep talking to himself despite your telltale flinches while he caressed you.

You weren’t as sneaky as you thought so, yes—he noticed.

“It would be a shame if you remained asleep so might I tempt to wake you up and spend time with me in another way?” He called from where he was standing.

Even in your poorly state, you broke into a smile and finally let your eyes flutter open. Without hesitation and with a little triumph in his stride, Alhaitham returned to your bed, resting his hand on the blanket cocoon he had left you in. 

Before he met you, Alhaitham believed that his simple life was full and complete.

Then you came along and made him realise what he had been missing all that time.

You have done a lot for him but more than that, you’ve undone a lot for him, like allowing him to let go of his rigid control and embrace vulnerability.

The man who once had given you no more than a small and polite ‘Hello’ when you were acquaintances was now tending to you with such warmth that you didn’t need to hear words to feel the depths of his care—it radiated from every quiet gesture. 

Sometimes you forget that people don’t see Alhaitham the same way you do.

He is stubborn, unpredictable, and speaks abstrusely but to you, he is a source of unwavering support. Always in the background with a stoic but reliable presence—like a testament to the patience you’ve nurtured him with.

However, at the end of the day, you cannot describe what is indescribable and you cannot explain what there is to love about him unless you love him yourself.

“You know,” you began as your fingers slipped into his hair, “You shouldn’t have kissed me. You’ll only end up getting sick.”

“I’ll survive,” he replied with a slight shrug, dipping his head towards your lips again, “It’s a small price I’ll pay.”

And in that moment you understood that this was his way of saying he loved and missed you. Not in grand declarations but in the way he stayed, the way he cared, and the way he was always there, silently holding your world together.

a/n: i kept getting distracted while writing this because i love him so much he makes me sick.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform.

affiliations: @houseofsolisoccasum & @nereidsrealm

divider by @/attxnt

[kafkaeya]

healing an injury pt2

characters: wriothesley / alhaitham / kaveh

requests: open

tw: minor injury detail / mildly suggestive (wrio) / referred to as a woman (wrio)

an: needed a part 2. needed wrio. still need wrio <3

"i can just go to the infirmary, you know?"

"i know, but stay here anyway."

wriothesley was sitting on his office chair, while you were perched on his desk cleaning a wound on his jaw. holding his head up with one hand, and wiping the blood with a cloth in your other, his protests were audible but futile. wriothesley was going to stay right here, and you were going to take care of him - whether he liked it or not.

"it's really not that bad. just a little--"

"stop objecting and sit still."

"yes ma'am."

most of the time spent wiping his cut was filled with silence, wriothesley looking up into your eyes as you patched him up. then, once you finished, he said with a smile on his face:

"i could get used to this view."

"stop teasing, wrio," you replied.

"i could also get used to you telling me what to do."

alhaitham forever valued home comforts, and it was clear upon his return to your place that he was unwilling to leave again anytime soon. however, this time, he arrived with a graze on his knee - not too deep, yet still enough to impact his gait.

"wait there, love," you told him. "i'll get some plasters and such."

"no, no, i'm fine." alhaitham said, sitting down with a groan.

"right... you sound it." your sardonic response caused his eyebrows to furrow, yet he ended up following your instructions anyway.

you ended up knelt down in front of him, patching up his knee. alhaitham was watching idly, his head tilted as he looked down at you.

"i do not need you to take care of me. i can sort myself out. however, i appreciate this."

"i know," you looked up at him with a smile. "but i like making sure you're okay, even if you could sort it yourself."

with a flourish, kaveh entered the room - holding out his hand in your direction. before you could even say hello, he started saying, "i've been stung! a bee, it's stung me!"

your eyes widen, quickly taking his hand in yours. "that's not good, kaveh! it looks really red."

"this is it! it has been lovely to date you, we had a good run, i'm sorry i didn't write a will in--"

"kaveh, shh.. let me just put some cream on it. it'll stop the swelling and soreness."

kaveh was still whining, "--time, and i hope you find someone who will make you very h-- h-huh?"

you laughed to yourself, beaming eyes looking at kaveh's. "you're not dying, my love. it will calm. you will live long enough to write that will."

kaveh was still whining and complaining while you applied the cream, caressing it gently into his hand. it was only when he fully processed that his hand was in yours, and your thumbs were rubbing cream into his skin, that he stopped. "this... this is nice. maybe i should get stung more often."

"not your wisest idea, kaveh."

[mikaaki]

WRIOTHESLEY is such a touchy boyfriend

he constantly wants his hands all over you

he’s most likely taller than you , so he’ll use your head or shoulder as an armrest , smiling down smugly as he looks at your displeased expression

sometimes he does it to be an ass , but he mostly does it because he craves physical affection

he also has a habit of pressing cheek against yours , letting his stubble stab you in the face

sometimes licks your face just to fuck with you idk

he finds physical contact to be his favorite love language

sometimes just comes up behind you and pulls you into his chest

despite his cryo vision , he’s actually super warm !

definitely a good cuddle buddy to be stuck at the bottom of the ocean with

ALSO A SUCKER FOR HOLDING YOUR WAIST

will just come up and hold your waist with one hand at almost ALL times

may go crazy & write more about him later

[scarasimping]

KINKTOBER #2

size kink - capitano

word count - 550

content: fem! anatomy on reader, size difference ofc cause capitano is huge, praise, little bit of belly buldge, begging, dacriphylia, ooc capitano cause ive never written him before

"That's my good girl…" Capitano's gruff voice sounded from above you, a hint of pride hidden in his tone as he watched you slowly take another inch of him in. His calloused hands were hooked under the back of your knees, practically folding you in half with little effort. As he hovered over you, he completely enveloped you with his body, his broad frame shielding you from looking at anything else but him.

Slowly, he slips into you a little more, his gaze fixed in between the two of you as your wet hole struggles to take in his thickness. It stretches to what must be its max, yet you're still not satisfied.

"Please…more," you slur out, head tossed back and fingers gripping onto the sheets beneath you. Already so far gone and he hasn't even properly fucked you yet.

Sure, he spent a good half hour prepping you with his thick fingers and his tongue, making you cum a few times already just so you could fit him in, but to be so far gone from just a few inches of him pushed into your tight hole is so amusing to him.

You're squeezing around him so nicely, it's taking all his will to not just bully into your cunt all at once. He doesn't want to hurt you, but, archons, nothing has ever felt as good as you do right now.

"You think you can take more? Think you can take all of me today, darlin'?" His voice drawls out, leaning down to place a lingering kiss to your cheek as some of the tears spill from your eyes. The salty taste is welcome on his lips, a smile tugging its way onto his face at the sight of you eagerly nodding foe more of him despite feeling so full already. His hands, big enough to fully wrap around your whole thigh if he used both of them, caress the back of your thighs and press you further into the mattress. He begins to push more of his length inside you, kissing away each and every tear that spills from your waterline, until he feels himself bottom out inside of you for the first time.

A low groan slips out from the depths of his throat at the feeling of your warm walls encasing his entire length, his heavy balls squished against the roundness of your ass just begging to be emptied in you. The tip of him feels like it's grazing your cervix.

Capitano sits and waits for you to adjust for a few agonizing minutes, his cock twitching eagerly inside you.

Heavy breaths mix as he leans in and kisses you, before finally pulling back and making the first thrust. It takes everything you have to hold back the loud moan that threatened to escape you, focusing on the feeling of his lips on yours instead.

"So good..taking me so good," he grunts out, his hand coming to rest on the bottom of your stomach when he feels it. Himself, moving around inside you, just barely showing through your tummy as he burrows into you once more.

"Gonna ruin you…" he promises, but he knows you can take it. When he's done with you, your insides will be molded into the shape of his cock.

[naomi-nana]

: in another universe . genshin ver !

you ask your boyfriend if he thinks you both will still love each other in another universe.

featuring : lyney, wanderer, cyno

cw : fluff

a/n : back to writing after months heheheh

๋LYNEY :

"why of course we would!" he'd answer confidently. why wouldn't you both be together in another universe? if that's the case, then he feels bad for his other self for not being able to be in a relationship with such a pretty person like you. "we'd definitely still be together in every universe!"

"we'd date together, talk about magic together, and i'll also feature you in my magic show in every universe!" you smiled hearing his words. it made you feel happy at how confident he is with his answer. "our love knows no bounds!" he grins at you.

WANDERER :

"what? that's ridiculous." you gasp at his answer. how could he say that to you?! does he not think that you both will fell in love in every universe that exists?! "it's not like that. how do you even know that there is multiple universes anyway?" now he's asking you the question. you don't know how to respond, being asked such a question like that. you're not a scientist!

"it doesn't have anything to do with your profession, just answer the question." really?! now he's forcing you to answer HIS question?! he should've answered yours first! "i'm not gonna answer your weird question."

(yes, he'd still love you in every other universe.)

CYNO :

"oh? i didn't expect you to ask that out of nowhere." now, with cyno, you were definitely expecting him not to play along with your question and decided to just ignore it because he's the 'general mahamatra'. but, he actually played along with it. "why, of course i'd still fall in love with you in every other universe."

"well, i'd expect for you to love me first though." why? you thought it was the other way around, since he fell in love with you first back then. "why, you ask? well, probably because i'd be so interesting in your eyes that you'd gravitate towards me easily." you tilt your head to the side. what does he mean? "you don't get the joke? well, i mean, since you were talking about the universe..." you really wished you just ignored the weird joke he made earlier.

naomi-nana. do NOT repost, do not use,(with or without permission), do not reccommend or talk about my works outside of tumblr.

[mooniiify]

Hiiii

Any thoughts about Wriothesley, Tarutaru and Diluc having their first date with reader? I need fluff aaaaa

ouuu alright let's see

wriothesley would have to go out of his comfort zone for your first date, since he wouldn't want your first official time out with him to be in a literal prison. he says it's a surprise even though when he first invites you, he has no idea where to bring you. he rarely goes out nowadays due to how demanding his job is, but the days before your first date, he goes around fontaine, checking out different places, curating his plan.

on the day of the actual date, he tries to tame his hair with sigewinne's help unsuccessifully and goes to pick you up from your home, unaware of the sticker on his shoulder, courtesy of sigewinne. he was just a little nervous at the beginning, but once you chuckled at the sticker and pointed it out to him, his anxiety grew. had he just made a fool of himself?

the date continued, though, which eased his nerves. he took you to a play you'd mentioned you've wanted to see for a while first, then to grab a bite at hotel dubord (at neuvillette's suggestion) where you spend the evening talking over nice desserts; at the end of the date, you point out the other two stickers wriothesley had over his jacket, making him groan and you laugh

tartaglia is more of the adventerious type, so i feel like he'd want to do something more interesting than just a typical date, especially if you're also into it. he'd probably think about suggesting to go fight something or someone, but he quickly realizes that wouldn't really make a good first date, so he goes back to the drawing board.

he just so happens to ask you out around lantern rite when he's also in liyue, so he thinks that would be the calmest way to spend the evening. after all, his goal is to make you smile, get to know you better and spend time with you and show off to make you fall for him more.

regardless, tartaglia is tartaglia, so once he gets to a game booth, he's playing. he'll get competitive with a kid and forget where he is for a moment, though after he wins a trinket, he gives it to you, proclaiming he'd won it for you only and definitely not because he just wanted to win, which happens a few more times throuhout the night.

at some games, he even challenges you and cheers you on when you beat him at some of them. even if this is just your first date, he's your biggest fan and would lowkey let you win just to see the smile on your face tbh.

overall the date goes rather well and tartaglia is already planning the second one which is to fight any treasure hoarder they come across bc he thinks you look badass when you fight

diluc is a rather simple man. he's traditional. he would invite you to the dawn winery for dinner (and maybe a sleep over if it gets too late). i feel like diluc is the type of man to have to know someone really well or be friends with them for a while before he could even consider dating them, so he's not nervous about the first date because he knows you, or he's trying to convince himself of that, at least.

he wants to make it special, so he asks the maids to leave the kitchen and leave him to make the meal himself. everyone but adelinde leave, as she was too scared to leave him alone in the kitchen. ten minutes in and she had to step in and help him.

regardless, he helped for the meal at least halfway. he promises himself then he'd do better next time and learn how to cook.

anyway, you arrive and he'd set the table by himself, using the red designed plates he'd inherited from his mother, as well as his finest cutlery. he takes your coat off of you and hangs it himself, then pulls your chair out for you. you giggle at how gentlemanly he's acting, but it's not unwelcome by all means.

the date passes calmly, with the two of you talking about anything and everything. it feels like an usual hang out for the two of you, though this time a bit more intimate, as you're not aware of each other's feelings. after dinner, the two of you end up on the couch in front of the fireplace, with diluc's arm around your shoulders and you snuggled into him, eventually falling asleep in each other's warmth.

thank you so much for the request! hope i delivered! requests are still open!

[yourlittlegoblin]

{A Story in the Stars} Wanderer x Reader

Felt a bit nostalgic because I was thinking a lot about... well everything that recently happened in the past 5 years. Its kinda crazy that its 2025 and I should be sleeping now but um... just had to kinda write this because I'm in that semi-gloomy nostalgic feeling right now... So anyways as per usual I hope you enjoy and its gn!reader and fem!reader today/tonight

The sun hangs mercilessly overhead, casting ripples of heat over the sand as your boots sink with every step. The dry air burns your throat, but you push on, determined. This commission wasn’t supposed to be this grueling, just a simple escort mission through the Sumeru desert. Yet here you are—parched, weary, and regretting every choice that led to this moment.

Beside you, Wanderer walks with infuriating ease, his feet hovering just above the sand as if mocking your struggle. His arms are crossed, and his expression—per usual—is a mixture of disinterest and thinly veiled irritation.

"You’re slowing down," he remarks, his voice cool as a desert night.

"Thanks for the observation," you huff, wiping sweat from your brow. "Want to make yourself useful and carry the supplies?"

He scoffs, a sharp sound that barely disguises the smirk tugging at his lips. "And let you trip over yourself without me watching? I’d miss all the entertainment."

You glare at him, half tempted to throw the heavy pack in his direction. "I’m beginning to regret asking you to come."

"No, you’re not," he counters smoothly. "If I wasn’t here, some incompetent idiot from the guild would’ve taken this job. And you? You’d probably be halfway buried in sand by now."

You roll your eyes but can’t entirely argue. "So you admit you’re here because you don’t trust anyone else to keep me safe?"

He’s silent for a moment, the only sound between you the crunch of shifting sand. Then, with a sigh, he glances at you from the corner of his eye.

"At least one of us has to be sensible," he mutters. "Two fools wandering a desert wouldn’t end well."

A laugh escapes you before you can stop it—warm and bright despite the heat. His words may be sharp, but there’s no mistaking the edge of care beneath them.

"Thank you," you say softly.

His eyes narrow as if trying to brush off your gratitude, but a flicker of something gentler softens his gaze. He looks forward again, the barest hint of a smirk tugging at his lips.

"Don’t make me regret this," he grumbles, but the fondness lingers long after the words have faded into the desert air.

{A few long hours later}

The sun had long dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in hues of purple and indigo. Stars blinked to life as a cool breeze whispered through the desert’s edge, where sand met dry, twisted trees and sparse greenery. You push past a low branch, balancing the bundle of firewood in your arms, as the soft glow of your makeshift camp comes into view.

"Finally," you sigh, stepping into the clearing. "I was starting to think the trees had some personal vendetta against me."

Wanderer doesn’t look up from his work. He’s crouched by a crude structure of overlapping branches and cloth he’d managed to fashion into a respectable shelter. His hands move deftly as he secures the last knot with a precise pull.

"Maybe they do," he says flatly. "It would explain how long you were gone."

"Ha-ha," you deadpan, dumping the wood near the fire pit. "How’s the shelter coming along?"

"Finished." He stands, brushing the dust from his hands with a look of casual superiority. "Of course, since I’m the one who built it."

You roll your eyes but can’t hide the small smile tugging at your lips. The shelter is… impressive. Sturdy, well-positioned to block the wind, and, dare you say, cozy. You tilt your head, watching as he kneels by the fire pit to spark a flame. His movements are measured, precise—controlled in a way that speaks of experience.

"Where’d you learn all this?" you ask, settling beside him.

He pauses, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face before he replies, "I’ve been around."

"You mean you’ve had to camp a lot," you guess, eyes never leaving him as he strikes the flint again. Sparks dance in the air, catching the kindling with a soft crackle. The glow of the fire reflects in his eyes, sharp and clear.

He doesn’t answer directly, but the silence feels telling. "Knowing how to survive isn’t exactly something to admire," he murmurs.

"But I do admire it," you say quietly. "It’s not just about surviving. It’s about being prepared, staying calm—knowing what to do when others wouldn’t."

He glances at you then, the firelight casting shadows along his sharp features. For a moment, something unspoken lingers between you—an understanding that needs no words.

Finally, he turns away, the corner of his mouth twitching. "Well, it’s a good thing I’m here to keep you from wandering off into a desert abyss."

"And it’s a good thing I’m here to remind you to eat and be a decent human being," you retort, grinning.

"Fair trade," he mutters, shaking his head as the flames grow steady and warm.

The fire crackled between you both, the silence stretching out as you poked at the mushrooms with your stick, trying to keep them from burning. The heat from the fire seeped through your clothes, a comfort after the biting chill of the desert night. You couldn’t help but glance over at Wanderer every now and then, noticing how the glow from the flames highlighted the sharp features of his face.

"Do you think we’ll find the way back tomorrow?" you asked, trying to break the tension that had settled between you both. His eyes flickered for a moment before he gave a small, almost imperceptible shrug.

"Eventually," he replied, his tone flat but with a hint of something unspoken.

You caught his gaze for a brief second, but he turned away quickly, refocusing on the fire. It was odd, this quiet between you. Despite the lack of words, there was a certain unspoken understanding in the air, something that neither of you were quite ready to address.

You sighed, poking at the mushrooms again, unsure whether to say anything more. The fire crackled, the only sound breaking the silence.

The scent of roasting mushrooms filled the air, mingling with the earthy aroma of the forest floor and the crackling warmth of the fire. You sat cross-legged, the simple meal skewered on a stick held above the flames. Across from you, Wanderer remained silent, his gaze distant as the flickering light danced shadows over his face.

The quiet stretched, heavy and strange. You sneak a glance at him, as you had been doing for the past several minutes, eyes tracing the delicate lines of his profile. His expression was composed—impassive, even—but you could sense the restless tension coiled beneath his surface, a storm held tightly in check.

The mushrooms browned and sizzled. You shifted your grip, watching as Wanderer’s eyes flicked momentarily toward you, then away just as quickly. When you finally took a bite, the flavor was… unimpressive. Bland, slightly earthy, with no real seasoning or flair.

You chew thoughtfully before offering him a piece. "Want some?"

He eyes it, his lip curling slightly before he takes the food with a measured movement. A small, quiet bite follows.

"It’s bland," he remarks, voice flat. "But it’s a roasted mushroom. What else would it be?"

You fight back a grin at his predictably underwhelmed reaction. "Better than starving," you point out, turning your skewer over to finish the rest.

He hums, noncommittal, and the silence returns. But it feels different now—less uncomfortable, more familiar. You keep glancing at him, the warmth of the fire not quite matching the flicker of heat in your chest.

Finally, his eyes meet yours again, sharp and knowing. "You’ve been staring."

"Have I?" you ask, feigning innocence.

He tilts his head, gaze never wavering. "Why?"

"Maybe I just find you interesting," you say lightly, but your heart quickens.

"Interesting," he repeats, the word hanging in the air between you. A smirk, subtle but unmistakable, tugs at the corner of his lips. "You should be more careful. Staring too long at dangerous things tends to have consequences."

"And yet, here I am," you counter softly, the fire crackling between you both, "still staring."

His eyes narrow slightly, but there’s no sharpness in them now—only something softer, something almost amused, as he looks back at you.

.

.

.

.

The fire had long since dwindled to embers, casting only a faint, warm glow that barely pushed back the shadows of the forest. You lay cocooned in your sleeping bag, the fabric warm and soft against your skin, but your mind wouldn’t rest. Every rustling leaf, every distant call of the desert’s nocturnal creatures kept you awake. You sighed quietly, shifting for what felt like the hundredth time.

Beside you, Wanderer lay still, his hands folded behind his head, eyes half-lidded and focused on the endless sprawl of stars above. The silver moonlight kissed his features, sharp and serene, while his chest rose and fell with steady breaths. He looked peaceful—almost—but the subtle tension in his frame betrayed him.

“You’re awake too,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

He doesn’t turn to look at you. “Obviously.”

A small silence lingers before you speak again. “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing important.” His tone is as cool and detached as ever, but there’s a weight beneath it, something distant and unreachable.

You roll onto your side, the fabric of your sleeping bag crinkling softly. “You know,” you say, watching him, ��the stars are said to carry stories. Every one of them is a memory or a legend.”

His eyes flick toward you, a faint scoff escaping his lips. “Sentimental nonsense. Stars are just burning gas, light that reaches us from countless miles away. Stories are things people make up to feel less alone.”

You pause, searching his expression. “And what’s wrong with that? Feeling less alone?”

He doesn’t answer immediately. The silence stretches between you like a thread pulled taut. Then, his voice softens—barely. “Nothing, I suppose. If it works.”

The ground is cool beneath you as you shift upright, the stars above twinkling like promises waiting to be kept. Without a word, you shuffle closer, dragging your sleeping bag until it’s right beside his. Wanderer glances at you, the arch of his brow a silent question, but he says nothing when you settle next to him, your warmth brushing his side.

"You’re taking up all the space," he grumbles.

"There’s plenty of space," you counter, resting your head on your folded arms. "Besides, I’m comfortable now."

He rolls his eyes but makes no move to push you away. Instead, he lets out a breath that’s half a sigh, half reluctant amusement.

For a moment, the silence returns, companionable this time. The stars twinkle on, indifferent to the two of you beneath them. Then, a thought strikes you, and you turn your gaze toward him with a soft smile.

"Hey… could you tell me a story?"

He narrows his eyes. "A story? You expect me to entertain you now?"

"Not just any story," you clarify, grinning. "Something from when you were younger. Something you wouldn’t tell anyone else."

The request makes him pause. His eyes grow sharp, thoughtful, and something wary flickers across his face. His lips press into a thin line. "You’re really testing your luck."

"Please? I’ll keep it a secret." You hold out your hand, your pinky extended. "Pinky promise."

For a long moment, he stares at your hand as if considering all the ways he could make you regret asking. His voice, low and deliberate, murmurs, "If I catch you telling anyone, I’ll make you wish you never learned how to talk."

"I won’t," you vow, eyes wide and earnest. "I promise."

He sighs again, muttering something about foolish trust and human sentimentality before finally, hesitantly, hooking his pinky with yours. His grip is light, careful, but it lingers longer than you expect.

With a faint, resigned hum, he lays back down, folding his hands beneath his head once more.

"There was a time," he begins, voice softer now, words woven with distant memories, "when I thought I could outrun the world." A small, almost bitter smile curves his lips. "I was wrong."

He lets the words hang between you, his voice trailing off as if caught in the gravity of a memory too vivid to forget.

"I was alone then," he continues after a moment, his tone edged with a mixture of wistfulness and resentment. "I didn’t need anyone, or at least, I convinced myself of that. I traveled far from where I was made, through forests, mountains, and deserts. Everywhere I went, I thought if I just kept moving, the past would stop chasing me. I’d be free."

You don’t interrupt, even as your curiosity prickles at the weight behind each word. His voice is steady, but his eyes remain fixed on the stars as though seeing something far beyond them.

"There was a village," he says, his brows knitting together. "A small, forgettable place filled with forgettable people. I had no reason to stop there, but I did. Just for a moment." He breathes out slowly, as though releasing a piece of himself he rarely shares. "There was a boy—barely more than a child—who thought I was some kind of spirit. He wasn’t afraid of me. Most people would have been."

The corner of his mouth lifts, but it isn’t quite a smile. "He followed me everywhere, asking questions. What I was doing. Where I was going. If I could show him how to fly." His eyes glimmer with a fleeting softness. "I told him I had no wings to teach him with, but he didn’t care. He said, ‘If you walk on air, then so can I.’"

"Did he follow you for long?" you ask gently, your voice barely above a whisper.

"For too long," Wanderer mutters, his expression darkening. "He was persistent, and I didn’t have the heart to tell him to go away. He said I reminded him of someone—an old story about a guardian who watched over the desert winds." He shakes his head as if the memory leaves a bitter taste. "I was no guardian."

"But you didn’t leave right away, did you?"

A pause stretches between you before he answers, voice quiet. "No. He asked me to stay until he could learn to ‘walk on air.’ I didn’t think he’d manage it, but… he was clever. He built a kite with his own hands. It wasn’t perfect, but the wind carried it." He sighs. "It carried him, too, for a moment. And he laughed—like he had conquered the sky."

The silence that follows is heavy, laced with something unsaid.

"What happened to him?" you ask, dreading the answer but unable to stop yourself.

"He grew up." Wanderer’s voice is flat, devoid of the warmth that had briefly flickered. "He forgot about flying. People always do."

You watch him closely, sensing the ache buried deep beneath his words. Slowly, you reach out and rest your hand lightly against his, offering nothing more than your quiet presence.

"I won’t forget," you say softly.

His eyes shift toward you, unreadable but heavy with something raw and real. He doesn’t pull away. "You better not," he murmurs. "Otherwise, you’ll owe me more than a story."

I nod, offering him a small, tired smile. "I promise, I won’t forget." And then, almost without thinking, I lean over and loop my pinky around his again, a small gesture to seal my promise. This moment feels so right that a tale of my own feels right.

"Okay," I continue, shifting slightly, my words starting to tumble out in a soft, rambling stream. "When I was little, I used to—well, I was always the kind of kid who loved to explore. I’d run off into the woods behind my house, pretending to be some sort of adventurer. I’d climb trees and make forts out of old blankets and sticks, even though my parents told me not to. They were so worried about me getting hurt, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to find something—anything—that would make sense of everything around me, you know?"

I chuckle softly to myself, the words coming easier now. "One day, I found a secret spot, hidden by vines and rocks. It was this little clearing, like it was made just for me. I’d go there almost every day, and sometimes I’d bring snacks and sit there for hours just… watching the world go by. It was peaceful. And I used to pretend I was a princess or something—surrounded by magic and adventure."

The weight of sleep starts pulling at me as I continue speaking, my voice growing softer and slower. I feel the warmth of Wanderer's presence beside me, his quiet attention making me feel safe. My eyes flutter closed, my mind slowly slipping into the soft embrace of sleep, but I can still feel the connection between our pinkies.

"And, uh, there was this one time," I mumble, my voice barely audible now, "I… I pretended the wind was telling me a secret. I told it everything, hoping it would carry my words somewhere special. To someone who would understand."

The soft rustle of his breathing next to me is the last thing I hear before my body finally gives way to sleep, the weight of exhaustion pulling me into a deep slumber.

.....

Wanderer watches me for a long moment, his gaze softening at the sound of my steady breathing. He hesitates, just for a moment, before carefully pulling the edge of my sleeping bag up a little more to keep me warm. His fingers brush lightly against mine as he does so, and for a moment, he simply hovers there, as if unsure of what to do.

He sighs softly, barely above a whisper, "You’re... such an idiot." His words are a strange mix of fondness and frustration, but there's something deeper there, something he’s not ready to acknowledge.

Then, after another long, unsure moment, he reaches over and laces his fingers gently with mine, as if he’s afraid you’ll wake up if he does it too fast. He shifts to lie on his side, facing me, his movements slow and deliberate. The moonlight catches his expression, making his gaze seem distant yet tender all at once.

And there, in the quiet of the desert night, surrounded by the warmth of shared silence, Wanderer finally lets himself fall asleep, his hand still firmly holding yours.

[naomeii]

Help I had a funny idea 💀

Imagine Childe wanting to spar with adeptus!reader and they accept, they win and Childe invites them to a treat for winning. Zhongli sees this and gets kinda jealous. When reader arrives to their shared teapot they see Zhongli in his dragon form huffing and puffing in his nest.

Just a jealous giant noodle 💀

Jealous Noodle!

—Pairings: Zhongli x Adeptus! Reader

Content : Slight jealousy, FLUFF (drabble)

After the treat, Y/n returned to their home, only to find Zhongli in his dragon form, huffing and puffing in what seemed like a self-made nest. Concern etched across their face, Y/n approached Zhongli.

"Rex Lapis, what happened? Why are you in this state?" Y/n asked, genuinely worried.

Zhongli sighed, a cloud of warm air escaping his dragon nostrils. "Oh, nothing of consequence. Just... observing."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. "Observing what, exactly?"

Zhongli's eyes flickered, and he replied, "Perhaps you should ask Childe. He seems to have a way of attracting attention."

Y/n couldn't help but notice the undertone in Zhongli's voice. They leaned in closer, their eyes narrowing playfully. "Jealous, aren't you?" they teased.

Zhongli grunted in response, a huff escaping him. Y/n chuckled mischievously, gently stroking the scales on Zhongli's snout. "It's okay, you know. You're still my one and only dragon."

Zhongli remained stoic, but a hint of amusement glimmered in his eyes. Y/n continued to tease, "Is the great Geo Archon jealous of a little spar with Childe?"

With another huff, Zhongli admitted, "I am not jealous. I am merely... contemplative."

Y/n grinned, cuddling against Zhongli's warm dragon form. "Contemplative, huh? Well, I think someone might be a bit jealous, but that's alright. I'm only yours and no one can change that"

Zhongli let out a resigned grunt, realizing that, even as an archon, he couldn't escape the complexities of mortal emotions. As Y/n nestled against him, Zhongli couldn't help but find solace in the warmth of their affection, even if the night held a hint of playful jealousy.

[sixosix]

PDA W/ WANDERER — fluff

Admittedly, you were one of the many people who thought that Wanderer recoiled at the thought of even holding hands in public. Yet, you realized you were so wrong not even a week after dating him.

It wasn’t exactly holding hands, but he insisted on keeping an arm snaked around your waist or over your shoulders. You could find yourself distracted, and you wouldn’t stumble into anyone, with him navigating you through crowds with his hands on you.

You took advantage of this a lot.

“Watch where you’re going,” he grumbled.

“Sorry, Kuni.” But you still kept your eyes fixed on the book, and he didn’t comment on it again. He simply slid his hands down to your waist and led you himself. He didn’t like admitting it, but he liked taking care of you.

It was nice. Touchier than you expected, but it was not uncharacteristic for him. He did seem like the type—somewhat handsy but in the most endearing way possible.

Yet when he kissed you in public, that was when you started piecing it all together. It was short but long enough for his hands to have moved to your cheeks to deepen it. You could feel eyes and even hear gasps around, but he didn’t pull away until you seemed out of breath from holding it in surprise.

There was also when he reached for your hand and kissed the back of your palm, an old lady nearby cooed and said, “What a cute couple you are!”

Wanderer had damn preened and was smirking the whole way back home. Like— like a dog that had been told how a good boy he was. Or a cat who was fawned at for catching a fish.

“Are you actually into PDA?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“What?” Wanderer looked really cute, with his brows furrowed like that. “What’s that?”

“You know, kissing in public. Holding hands in public. Affection in public.”

Wanderer raised a brow. “Why does it matter?”

What does that mean? It was a very Wanderer-like answer, but that didn’t satisfy you. 

Maybe he found joy in showing off that he was your boyfriend. That seemed absurd enough to be true. Maybe he didn’t care about the attention that came with PDA. Maybe—

Wanderer stared at you incredulously. “Was this seriously what’s been bothering you the whole week?”

You huffed. “It wasn’t bothering me! Your answer was just really vague.”

“So it was bothering you,” he deadpanned, pinching your cheek long enough to make you whine. “Didn’t I already say so? Why does it matter?”

“That’s not a good answer—”

He kissed the pout of your lips. “It doesn’t matter to me if it’s in public or if we’re in the privacy of your room. If I want to kiss you, then I’ll kiss you. Isn’t that an answer enough?”

You flushed, and he flashed a victorious smile. Wanderer can be so romantic without meaning to be.

[nyxthejinx]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐒𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧

Guess who's back- yeahh Wrio altered my brain chemistry and i gotta cope with everything that just happened in the archon quest (iykyk). I haven't written in ages, I'm a bit rusty :')

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Slow mornings are the sweetest.

𝐓𝐖: Fluff (incredible, I know) nudity and intimacy in general (nothing too explicit, more on the romantic side), allusions to the night before, reader loves wrio's butt and is shameless about it (don't we all), mention of scars (wrio's), I tried to proof read it multiple times but my brain is fighting against me, lemme know if I missed anything

𝐅𝐭.: Wriothesley - GN!Reader

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1056

𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨: Eclipse - Pink Floyd

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 that his body is covered with scars, nor does he try to hide them. But the bedside lamp and the afterglow shed a new light on him, one that only you have the privilege of enjoying.

He sits at the edge of the bed, hands by his sides, sinking comfortably in the mattress. The slightest twitch of his muscles can't go unnoticed, not when everything is so slow and still as if time had stopped.

But that's what happens in the Fortress, no? Unless you keep an eye on the watch, minutes and hours blend into a placid flow, until you end up thinking you have all the time in the word.

That's why you lay down the clocks in the room, when darkness begins its descent up in the overworld.

Because you get to see him like this. Sleep ridden, quiet, a bit grumpier than usual. Shamelessly naked from head to toe, with the sheets thrown over his lap for the sake of decorum, as if you didn’t see and feel each other all night along.

This morning too, he stills for minutes on end, staring ahead and gifting you the precious sight of his toned back, now painted with marks and scratches fresh from the night. He runs a hand on his nape, down his shoulder and you know he loves the stinging carvings you left behind with your nails.

But your favourite part rests further down.

“You have a nice butt.” You mumble with a lazy smile, as you let your eyes wander to his lower back. “I ought to tell you more."

Wriothesley looks over his shoulder just enough to glare at you, but you know that fiery glimmer stems from amusement; the way his eyes wrinkle at the sides nullifies the frown creasing his brows.

He's lovely, incredibly entertaining whenever he tries and fails to hide his eagerness for compliments.

The man huffs through his nose, shaking his head before standing up. He holds the fabric around his waist, now covering his rear out of spite, as he rummages through the small puddles of discarded clothes on the room's floor.

You, on the other hand, aren't as diligent as he is. There's no hurry, no impending chores more important than this moment as you make yourself comfortable on your side, in the softness of your pillow —that inevitably smells like him too.

Only a fool wouldn't enjoy how incredibly clumsy he appears right now, fighting with the sheets and getting more and more impatient with every passing second that he can't find his underwear.

It's like admiring the dark side of the moon, knowing that no one else gets the same privilege, the same trust.

Which... Might be revoked after this little stunt you pulled.

"Looking for these?"

Wrio's head snaps towards you and his frown deepens at the sight of his boxers hanging from your hooked fingers. You smirk, backing away as far as you can, until he's forced to stretch across the bed and over your body.

You can't help but giggle and snicker, too amused and definitely too confident in the power you hold over him. You both know his pinky finger would be enough to turn the tables, but he wordlessly enjoys this silly game between you two, just like he adores seeing your petty smirk.

Oh, and how he loves wiping it off your face. If he only had more time, in this dreaded Monday morning.

Without much effort, he eventually grabs the garment. "Pervert." He mutters, pinching the skin below your ribs.

You flinch, chuckling breathlessly. "Mean."

But not wrong. You can't stop your eyes from drifting down, where the sheets have slipped dangerously low after all the fighting.

Everything, from his scarred pecks and abs, to his V line looks so... imperfect, gruff, hostile. He's a man who's rough around the edges, like the claw marks that decorate his throat; hardened by life, on guard all the time.

Untrusting.

And yet, he shows his back to you without much thought.

Even now, with his pants back on, he plops into his previous position idly, placid in his every move.

There's no need to check for threats, because there's none.

And you realise once again —like you do every day— that you're not ready for the sun to come up and for the moon to switch sides.

For him to glance back.

There's things that need to be done, affairs that only the Duke can handle, no matter how greedy and jealous of his presence you are. Your hands itch to wrap around his wrist, to pull him back by your side for another hour or two.

Wriothesley, on the other hand, spins along without thinking twice, as he adjusts his boots back on. Hadn't you known him long enough, you'd dare to say he doesn't yearn for you as much as you yearn for him, but it's the little things that speak in his stead.

It's the lazily unbuckled belt, the messy hair, wobbling around with his every little movement. "I'll do it later, for it means that we'll spend more time together" they say.

It's the blemished, vulnerable back, offered so humbly.

And suddenly you can't resist the urge anymore.

You navigate your way through the sea of sheets to wrap your arms around his waist, and your bare front against his back stops his motions altogether. Blurred memories from the early night flare up one more time, as your lips burn invisible seals on the skin of his shoulder. Every mellow kiss is so fond, intimate. Just for the two of you to feel.

Never have you felt a stronger sense of belonging. Not when he relaxes so easily in your presence and the world ceases to spin.

When turning his back to you feels so natural.

"Be careful, mh?" You kiss the crook of his neck again, while your hands trace the rough skin around his navel. "I want your pretty butt to be safe and sound."

Wrio's deep chuckle shakes his shoulders and chest, and you feel it deep deep deep in your own heart.

"Your wish, my command." He hums, his coarse fingers guiding one of your wrists to his lips.

The moon, you decide, is prettier when it's dark.

DON'T copy/repost/translate my work. REBLOG instead! ©nyxthejinx

[vultursvolans]

i posted something toothrottingly sweet for him yesterday so i gotta balance it out with some shameless smut

— ★ contents: dragon!form zhongli, afab!reader, semi public (kinda, you’re in the forest), rough sex, possessiveness, desperation, predator/prey dynamic if you squint. 0.4k. MDNI. 18+ ONLY. | masterlist

You rarely saw Zhongli’s dragon form but with his heat cycle approaching, it was obvious he’d been watching you closely. Playing your cards right, you had woven the evening with sly glances and light touches. The air crackled with tension as he followed each tantalizing step of yours, drawing him deeper into the woods. 

When he finally cornered you against a tree, his eyes burned with lust, dragon instincts overwhelming his mortal body. His bronzed skin shimmered in the moonlight, and the sight of you— the only human ever to ignite his primal hunger— made him lose all control.

Before you could even react, his hands were on you, tearing away your clothes with such ferocity it had your heart racing. The cool night air barely had a chance to kiss your skin before the heat of his body engulfed you.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he growled, his voice barely human. Without hesitation, he hooked your leg over his hip, already aligning himself with your entrance. The tip of his cock teased you, dragging it along your wet folds before burying it to the hilt in one stroke. 

Zhongli let out a low grunt as he sheathed himself inside you. But you were breathless, a mix of pleasure and pain coursing through you as your body stretched to accommodate his new, thicker length. He began thrusting with a powerful, insisting motion that left you clinging onto his shoulders— nails digging into the scales and golden veins that had emerged from his transformation. 

His breath was hot and heavy against your neck, lips brushing your ear as he groaned your name, “…Look at what you’ve done.” Each syllable rattled as he pounded you, his body demanding more with every movement. He reveled in your sweet scent and the feeling of you tightening around him, yet he thought you naive for thinking this was all he had in store for you. 

As his thrusts grew more frantic, you moaned louder, urging him on with your desperate whines. He possessively wrapped his arm around you, shielding you from the rough bark of the tree. “Tell me you want more,” he demanded. He needed you to because he knew it would be hard for him to stop now, “Let me hear it.”

You whimpered, barely more than a whisper, “Yes, I want more… I want it all…” 

A throaty chuckle was all he gave you, thinking you looked delicious trembling like that. Suddenly, you felt the slithering touch of a tail snaking up your leg to ease your worries. The urgency in his grip and the fire in his eyes promised that this was just the beginning, making it clear there was much more to come before the night was over.

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

[kafkaeya]

you underdress for an event

characters: diluc / kaeya / alhaitham / kaveh

requests: open

tw: none (but reader wears dresses, or is required to in some scenarios so... keep in mind)

an: second official post! thanks for the love on the first one <3 waking up to all those notifs made me so happy. i hope this one is just as good!

a sigh, then a simple, "you can do better than that."

diluc was evaluating your outfit choice for the debut event of a new type of dandelion wine. all eyes would be on diluc, therefore his partner too, and turning up in a tucked-in white shirt and simple black trousers was not going to cut it.

"this is all i have that's clean," you protested, "and aren't you going to wear exactly the same as me?"

"that's not my point," diluc responded, rubbing his forehead delicately with his index finger and thumb. "there are going to be nearly hundreds of potential clients tonight; i really need this to go well, my love. so..."

diluc then proceeded to open a drawer, taking out a small wallet. he continued speaking, "we will need to find you something nice to wear, won't we?"

...you weren't going to argue with that.

"i do not care whether you're still angry with me or not, love. the fact is that you need to actually put some proper clothes on for this event tonight. that, or don't bother coming." kaeya paused, "...but please do come. otherwise, i'll have to explain why you're absent."

yourself and kaeya had another argument that morning, albeit a petty one. however, the one clash the two of you had in your relationship dynamic was your stubbornness. this led to the current predicament: you were proposing to arrive to a rather formal event in dirty clothes, that were far too... ordinary. that, and covered in mud and grass.

you shrugged your shoulders, "that's not my problem."

kaeya scoffed. gathering himself, he retorted after a moment, "that is your problem. you are the one actively refusing to just do as i've asked. now... where's that dress i bought for you for your birthday? i know i can fit you into it myself if you kick up too much of a fuss."

rolling your eyes, and with a huff, you complied, and the dancing and festivities meant that you two had forgotten what you had argued about in the first place by the end of the night.

the perks of dating the scribe of the akademiya (in your eyes anyway) was that, on the odd occasion, you were able to attend some beautiful gala events. this was one such event, however clearly you had misread the memo alhaitham had left for you that morning.

alhaitham walked into your bedroom, a large black bag in his right hand, before glancing at you and simply saying, "no."

"no?" you turned to look at him. "what do you mean no?"

"no."

a pause. alhaitham then took a step forward.

"this is far too casual. the hemline of the dress is far too high; it needs to be floor-length. furthermore, the bodice is rather... tight, is it not? we will be at this event all evening, your body will go sore."

"...since when did you know what a bodice is?"

"anyway, i assumed you would misinterpret my rather clear message i left for you - so here."

alhaitham then passed you the black bag he entered the room with, which contained another - much more ideal - dress, and left you to get dressed once more.

to say that kaveh was excited for this event was an understatement. however, when he found himself in need of a plus one, and with alhaitham flat-out refusing his offer, kaveh realised that you were the only option.

and that was how he found out, the hard way, that you do not own any kind of formal clothing whatsoever.

knocking on your door, kaveh was shocked to say the least to find you in your normal attire, not at all ready for a formal event like the one he was invited to.

kaveh let himself into your house without a word, leaving you to close the door behind him. then, he gave you another lookover. a heavy sigh escaped his lips as he said, "you know, you could have put a little more effort in to your appearance."

"why?" you asked. "i'm not trying to get anyone to fall in love with me or anything."

muttering, kaveh replied, "it's too late for that."

"what?"

dramatically, kaveh turned around to look behind him. "what?! who said that!?"

[mayullla]

A little present event: fem reader 🦋 + yandere Al Haitham 🌺 🥺

Title: Learning to love

Character(s): Al Haitham (Genshin Impact) Summary: He offered a proposal, a trial of sorts to see if you and him were really a match. Warnings/tags: Yandere themes, fem!reader, soulmates au, toxic relationship, manipulation

The continuation to: The Akasha's choosing [ - A little present~! Event - Closed - ]

You bit your lip when you saw Al Haitham waiting for you outside your small humble home again seated on one of the outdoor stools. "You are awake. I thought you would sleep a little more considering how tired you were last night from getting lost in the forest."

"Thank... thank you for finding me back then..." You looked down, it was because of him that you were able to find your way back home. But it was him that you were running away from that you winded up there. You know it was much, if anyone knew that someone was trying to avoid them this much to the point they would become lost... it would hurt the person. Yet you could not help yourself.

These feelings inside yourself felt like they were twisting your stomach yet you just can't push it down.

"Hmmm. Well, you don't have to worry about that though you should really consider other ways to avoid me."

You flinched at his words, feeling your heart rate speed up as you looked away guilty.

"I notice a long time ago that you were avoiding me, heading out so early in the morning when you usually stay in bed a little more in the past." Al Haitham looked at you from his book, waiting to see if you have something to say before continuing "I am guessing you are not really fond of this idea of soulmates. That you are acting like this? Personally, I think I would be much better if you were to say outright say that you hate me rather than run away constantly like this."

"I-I don't!"

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I really don't... I just don't think that uhh... you and me are meant for each other." You sighed finally admitting to why you have been acting like this for a long time. "That there might be a mistake in the Akasha... I just don't think we are compatible. I am sorry... I should have told you that sooner."

You glanced at Al Haithams face wondering how he would react before looking down again in guilt. You didn't know how to bring the subject up and had avoided it for the longest time. In all honestly you were intimidated by him.

"So you are saying that the Akasha had made a mistake?" Al Haitham asked closing his book. "Are you sure? I don't think most people if any would take too kindly to what you said especially the sages." You flinched again suddenly realizing what you were implying. That the akasha that was created by the past dendro archon, which was used by everyone in Sumeru had made a mistake. You wanted to take your words back, your face flustered as you tried to think of a way to recover from the situation.

Al Haitham watching you sighed, leaning back a little as he stared right at you. "I understand having doubts. Even I wanted to see for myself whether this was just some delusion someone in the academia made yet was accepted by those sages. Those who only rely on the akasha when it is also controlled by mere men are nothing but fools who can't think for themselves."

You found his words harsh but stayed silent.

"Hmmm, how about this. We shall do a little test between us to see if we are compatible or not." You looked at Al Haitham in surprise. What did he mean by that?

Al Haitham shook his head a little a small sigh escaped his lips, raising a hand a little as he started to explain. "While I too am not particularly fond of the idea myself, how about seeing for ourselves whether we are actually compatible or not and stop playing this cat-and-mouse chase that would only lead to nowhere."

"We can do a series of tests for an extended period of time. If we don't think we are compatible we can go our separate ways and forget all this happen. But if we do, we can continue on and see where this takes us."

Your eyes looked at him in surprise, but the more you thought about it the more it made... sense. You could see for yourself if the two of you were actually compatible with each other.

Agreeing to his proposal you could not help but feel a little determined but you could not help but wonder, "But what should we do first?" Much to your embarrassment you never really dated before too focused to take care of yourself and putting food on the table.

"Hmmm just do things that couples do. We could start by *not* avoiding each other and work away from there." You flinched a little at this personal attack, unable to look at him in the eyes again.

But you did see a small smile on his lips.

The two of you started slow, Al Haitham being patient with you as you tried to be less awkward with him on your side. You guys started first by going to the forest when you needed to go there to collect herbs, mushrooms, and berries. With him mainly there to protect you from monsters or eremites and treasure hoarders. Most of the time he was reading a book a little farther than you as you go about collecting.

He tried to offer help to you a bit, but still too awkward you declined telling him that he should instead rest while you do your work. Instead, you had to promise him that you would tell him if you need his help getting something that was too far of reach or dangerous.

A lot of your lunches were spent with him. You now purposefully pack up meals meant for two people rather than one. As you seat in the grass or under a tree or maybe at home when you worked on the small farm you had you would share your meals with Al Haitham. He would eat without saying much, but you did notice he would look a little annoyed when you brought soup and later made sure not to bring them too often. (Al Haitham also offered to pack or buy lunches every so often to be fair, and when you first time you tried his cooking you could not help but be surprised. It was good!)

You didn't go out in public much with him since both of you did not want the attention of others. And when you did most of the academia students would stare in shock unable to understand that the famed scribe had a partner while others cooed at how cute of a couple you guys were.

An old granny had called the two of you cute when you were out picking groceries with Al Haitham right beside you examining the vegetables as he too needed to stock some food in his own home. You were flustered at her words, wanting to deny that you were a couple but with a glance that Al Haitham gave you, no words came out of your mouth as you tried to smile.

You thanked the grandmother for her words.

Next were small touches and kisses, your face was never this hot till when Al Haitham told you to kiss him. You were embarrassed when he started grabbing your hand or placing a hand on your shoulder but you stifled all your complaints as you told yourself this was a trial and that it was fine. But you still could not help yourself but become nervous as you stare at his face after what he said.

Al Haitham was always patient with you, and if you didn't want to do this you were sure that he would be fine with it. But seeing that he was trying, you would feel guilty if you were to say no now.

You looked at Al Haitham's face an eyebrow raised waiting before he asked if you do not want to do it. You shook your head telling him it was fine. He always reminded you that both sides needed to put in the effort, and you knew he did. So you must... it was just a small kiss really.

He waited for you, made no movements to take the lead in the kiss, and left you to do it as you took small hesitant steps toward him shyly. With Al Haitham sitting down you were forced to lean towards him as you close your eyes unable to stare to look into his face in such a close distance. You didn't see his reaction back then as you quickly kissed and then turned your back from him unable to look at him.

What was a small peck on the lips soon spiraled from there. Moving too fast you thought to yourself, as if whatever wall that you thought was there between you and him was never there from the start. But you thought that it was fine, that this was just a test to see if you were compatible. As you forced yourself to get used to the thankfully rare kisses that Al Haitham would make. But more often than not you were forced to sit on his lap or he would lie on yours as you both either nap, read a book, or finish an essay for his case.

There were some days he would stay at your place, stating that he was too "lazy" to go back home when he was tired and told you to think of this like another test. He didn't like it when you offered to sleep on the sofa scooping you and tossing you on the bed with a hand on your waist to prevent you from leaving the bed stating that this would be the most comfortable way to sleep at a single person bed, pulling you closer to him. You felt it was too intimate but didn't voice your thoughts when you heard his small snores already fallen deep asleep.

Whatever you tried to make space between you and him on the bed whenever he decided that he would stay for the night would quickly be gone as you would find him always holding you tight in his arms the moment you wake up almost like a stuffed toy that a kid liked.

You kept repeating to yourself that this was a trial if you were compatible and if things just did not work out that everything would just work out as you two separate unknown to you that Al Haitham was still awake looking down at your hair, his arms tightening around you.

To him, this was never a trial, but you were just too precious after all as he let you think as you please. He knew that you were never comfortable with his affections. But he knew you would get used to it. He would not let you go even if you didn't. You would get used to his touch, the idea of him by your side, he would make you get used to him and let him mold you to love him just as much that anxiety would drive you insane when he is not around.

He would never let you go.

[scarasimping]

KINKTOBER #1

cockwarming - scaramouche

word count - 500ish

content: sub!scara, cockwarming (obvi), panty stealing and sniffing scaramouche, he's a little creepy, begging, he cries a lil, no pronouns used but scara is mentioned to be inside someone, take that as you will

—

"Please…" His voice was pathetic, high pitched and whiney, much different than his regular tone. Normally, he would curse himself for sounding so desperate, for begging for something he could very easily take should he choose so, but it was you. He had pined after you for so long, done things that might be frowned upon by anyone else.

It was hard not to be desperate for more when you sat in his lap, his cock wrapped inside your warmth. It was both heaven and hell to feel you like this. You felt so good, but he wanted, no, needed more. For you to move, to bounce on his dick or grind or anything, really, besides what you were doing now. Just sitting there, and squeezing around his length while he squirmed and whined beneath you, face buried in your neck and lips mouthing kisses at your skin in a silent plea.

"You said you'd take anything from me. Don't tell me you're going back on your word." Your hands that were draped over his shoulders soon found purchase in his hair, tugging it so that his head leaves the crook of your neck, forcing him to look at you. His eyes were wide and teary, brows furrowed so hard you swore the creases might stay there for days. "Especially after I caught you with my underwear earlier. You really want to ask for more when you had my stolen panties practically in your mouth."

Even he knew what he was doing was creepy, stealing your underwear whenever he came over. He acted indifferent whenever he was near you, but the thoughts he had about you were anything but indifferent.

His hand would always find its way into his shorts after seeing you, stroking eagerly at his stupid dick that got hard at the brush of a hand as you passed by him.

He had stolen many of your things in the past, but he was reckless this time and got caught. Your underwear pressed against his mouth and nose as he jerked off, eyes rolled back at the scent, his tongue poking out in hopes he could get just a hint of what you would taste like. He was just about to cum when you walked in, and he pleaded with you to give him something, despite what you had found him doing, which is how you ended up here.

"I'm sorry, just please," he practically sobbed, his hands wrapped around your back and gripping at the flesh, trying to keep himself sane. His back arched as he felt you shift around on his lap, chest pressing against your own.

"Please, move. I need you," he tried once more, but when he saw you smile down at him, a domineering look in your eyes, he knew this torture would keep up for a lot longer. You cooed at him, tugging at his indigo locks once more before bringing your hand to his face and caressing the apple of his cheeks. 

"Poor boy…you're gonna have to beg a lot more than that."