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childe-dni · 2 years

Text

Dance the Night Away

kaeya x reader

wc: 735

warnings: none

a night spent swaying in your lover’s arms

a/n; I'm just grossly in love with kaeya and desperately wish to romance him. that's basically it.

With half full wine glasses abandoned on the table and plates of dinner long forgotten and growing cold, you spun endlessly in the warm arms of your lover. What had started out as a romantic homemade dinner together had turned into an intimate two-person ball while the two of you waltzed together in the other’s embrace.

You wondered, just at which point did the two of you decide that dinner was over and declare a dance session was in place? And then you remembered the hypnotising look in Kaeya’s eyes and the intoxicating smirk on his lips as he regarded you before saying how the song playing at the time was a favourite of his and how he just couldn’t sit still whenever he heard it. Before you knew it, he was already up in front of you, offering a calloused hand, smirk still on his lips and adoration spilling out of his eyes. A look like that was impossible to say no to.

His hand held yours gently and he held enrapturing eye contact while his plush lips brushed against your knuckles. From the hitch in your breath it was obvious Kaeya had managed to fluster you. With his sadistic nature, it wasn’t a surprise that he knew just how to make you squirm. Starry pupils still epoxied onto you, he gave your hand a light tug; firm enough to shake you out of your trance for you to actually respond to his advances but still soft enough that you should rise from your place of your own volition.

Your body answered immediately, opting to stand with an endeared grin spreading across your lips as you playfully shook your head in what Kaeya had learned tended to be disbelief. He always had an inclination to do slightly out of the ordinary things; never anything outrageous – at least with you – but startling and unforeseen nonetheless. At first you tried to train yourself to expect the unexpected from him but then you realised you enjoyed his unpredictable nature. You revelled in the harmless playfulness he shared with you, the intimacy of his body warmth since to everyone else he was so cold (subconsciously or not), and the clear trust and adoration he had for you to lower his guard enough to break out into honest smiles and sing out songs of genuine laughter.

Kaeya was quick to pull you close, swiftly drawing you into his chest, granting enough room for your arms to loop around his neck while his hands rested on your waist but not going any further while they itched with obstinacy against his inhibitions. The two of you stayed like that, grinning giddily at each other as you swayed concurrently, neither taking the lead nor following but rather the pair of you melting into each other to become one.

After taking your time leisurely traversing the universes he held in his eyes, you finally opened your mouth to speak.

“What about the food?” you asked, earning yourself a sharp blink from the man before you as you clearly woke him from the dream he was having. “Will it not grow cold?”

“Darling,” Kaeya drawled slowly, voice drenched in saccharine exaltation for you. “We dine together so often, but how frequently do we share dances with one another?”

You hummed in thought as you pretended to consider the question he asked. You both knew the answer was close enough to never, however you wanted to give the both of you an excuse to relish each other’s gaze for another moment before replying.

“Not very often.”

“Exactly, so why don’t we enjoy this moment while it’s in our grasp.” Your lover lifted a hand to cup your face as his thumb softly traced your cheekbone before pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

His hand returned to the comfortable position it had at your hip and you decided that instead of saying anything in response, regardless of whether it would be in agreement or rebellion, you would instead wordlessly lean your head into the crook of his neck just to somehow get closer than you already are. The comforting feeling of the affectionate laugh that escaped his throat in the form of a low rumble caused you to ease into his hold even further and you remained like that as the pair of you danced together for as long as your legs could stand it.

#icymi <3

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childe-dni · 2 years

Text

Dance the Night Away

kaeya x reader

wc: 735

warnings: none

a night spent swaying in your lover’s arms

a/n; I'm just grossly in love with kaeya and desperately wish to romance him. that's basically it.

After taking your time leisurely traversing the universes he held in his eyes, you finally opened your mouth to speak.

“What about the food?” you asked, earning yourself a sharp blink from the man before you as you clearly woke him from the dream he was having. “Will it not grow cold?”

“Darling,” Kaeya drawled slowly, voice drenched in saccharine exaltation for you. “We dine together so often, but how frequently do we share dances with one another?”

“Not very often.”

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #kaeya #kaeya genshin #kaeya x reader #genshin kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #childe-dni writes

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childe-dni · 3 years

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𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ↠ 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨

summary: suguru hangs onto you even when you're not at home warnings: lots of skinship, potentially ooc geto pronouns: not used word count: 1815

“hi-”

“hey, where are you?”

“-you’ve reached y/n. i can’t answer the call at the moment, but please leave a message! thank you!”

suguru frowns. how did he get tricked by your voicemail again?

not bothering with the message, he rests his phone on his desk and runs a hand through his hair. the small digital clock resting on the far left corner read ‘5:45’ in bright red.

normally, he would have heard the door slam shut fifteen minutes ago, with your sweet voice calling out for him to let him know you were home. you’d stumble into his office, grinning lazily and press a kiss to his cheek before you made your way into the bathroom to shower.

and he’d watch you go, smiling softly at his love who was finally home from work, and follow you in to help you wash your hair.

but none of that happened today.

in fact, today suguru was still sitting in his office chair (albeit his comfortable and supposedly ergonomic office chair that you got for him), waiting for the familiar jingle of keys and sound of the door.

his frown deepens as another minute ticks by, with every second trickling past, he grows more and more worried. what if something had happened to you?

the two of you live in a flat in the dead-center of the city, and you have a habit of taking shady, darkened shortcuts to get home faster. palms growing clammy at the thought, he shakes his head and tries texting you once more.

the ones he sent earlier greet him, still unread. he knows he shouldn’t be this worked up over you being a little late, you can handle yourself and he was more than aware of that. you’re both adults and the most likely possibility was that you got stuck in traffic.

yet, he worries his bottom lip between his teeth and wrings his hands together, deciding to pace around his room to get rid of some of the anxious energy building up inside him.

suguru has never felt this way about anyone before. until you came along, he was sure he wouldn’t be the best guy for long-term relationships. until you came along, he was the one getting messages asking about his whereabouts, and calls that he let go to his voicemail.

it's strange being on the other side of things. it’s strange being the one to worry and fret, being the one to miss your lover.

he never expected himself to be the type to get so attached.

the two of you have built up a delicate routine, one he would like better if you never left at all, but one he’s fond of nonetheless.

every morning, you leave before the sun has fully risen in the sky. suguru wakes up a little over an hour after you leave, getting ready in silence. it’s in the quiet that he begins to miss your presence the most, when he can’t hear your footsteps or the way you hum a song just under your breath.

but he makes do, because he knows you love your job.

and so, he walks out of your shared bedroom and into the kitchen, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders. he notices the pale yellow sticky note on the counter first; he always notices it first.

you always leave a little note for him, it’s your way of greeting him in the morning since you’re not physically there to do it. he knows he sees it first because he’s looking for it—a little scrap of you to quell the rising wave inside him that misses you already.

the beginning changes depending on the day, but you always sign off with an “i love you” and a little heart. one day, he’ll get it tattooed onto him and he hopes you’ll like it even half as much as he’ll love it.

he grabs the sticky note and brings it to his office, where he sticks it with the rest he’s been collecting on the inside of the bottom most drawer of his desk. it’s not that he’s embarrassed about it—about you—he just doesn’t want you to think he’s silly. or clingy.

in hindsight, he feels he’s both those things, and he hopes you don’t mind.

then, he works. he works until the sun reaches its highest point in the sky, when he takes a break to eat lunch, and scrolls through his messages, only really looking for one from you. when he’s done, he works some more.

and then it’s 5:30 and you’re home, and he’s seeing you in front of him for the first time that day.

suguru believes that’s when his day truly becomes memorable—when he sees your smiling face and feels the press of your lips, smooth from chapstick, against his cheek.

he’s not a fan of the way your eyes droop with exhaustion, or the slight stagger in your footsteps as you make your way to the bathroom, but nothing beats hearing you talk to him with sparkling eyes as you recount your day. so he doesn’t say anything, he lets you work and do as you please because even an idiot would know you wouldn’t be happier anywhere else.

and to him, hearing your content laugh as your eyes crinkle, knowing you’re happy, is most important of all.

he stands in the shower, his warm chest pressed to your bare back as his fingers work some shampoo through your hair. he helps wash it off, sliding his hands down your arms to grasp your hands gently, before bringing them back up and massaging your shoulders.

he likes the way you lean into him, sighing and then turning to face him. the water falls over you, making it hard for you to see him, and you aimlessly press a kiss to his sternum. suguru’s never felt softer than when he’s with you—when he takes care of you.

he opens his eyes, done reminiscing on what he should have been doing, realizing that it’s 6:00 and you’re still not home. he stops pacing, pressing the heel of his palms into his eyes, stifling a groan.

you’re the only thing that matters to him. he feels like a child, whining because he isn’t getting what he wants.

even just the thought of you jumpstarts his heart into overdrive, hammering against his ribcage like it's about to burst out his chest.

he keeps your presence alive while you’re gone with pictures of you, cardigans that still smell of your signature perfume. and when you are around, he steals as many glances of your face while you’re not looking, studying the curvature of your lips and the bridge of your nose.

suguru feels almost incapable of having a thought that doesn’t include you in some way.

only you could turn his brain to mush without even knowing it.

then: the door creaks open with the familiar jingle of your keys, the brush of your bag against your clothes as you sigh.

“suguru? i’m home-”

you don’t get to finish. suguru’s at your side in seconds, his strong arms snaking around your waist, seeking purchase. he buries his face in the crook of your neck, pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin.

breathing out a laugh, you try to push him away, “i’m sweaty, at least let me shower.”

“where were you?” he asks, not listening to you as he continues along the line of your jaw. “you know how many times i texted you? you need to change your voicemail.”

“‘m sorry, traffic was-,” you pause when he interrupts by properly kissing you, reveling in the absolute adoration he manages to show you with his lips, his hands, “particularly bad today.”

suguru takes your hands in his, and he sighs, “i don’t think i’m cut out for this.”

fear shoots up your spine with such speed, it knocks the breath out from your lungs. your heart lurches to your throat. it doesn’t take him long to notice your wide eyes and downturned mouth.

in quick, rushed motions, he shakes his hands in front of him, “i don’t mean- not like that. i meant that i don’t think i’m good at waiting here while you’re out.

“i mean- i don’t think i have to say it but i miss you a lot when you leave."

and he grabs your hands again, turning them over, examining them, “i don’t want to bother you. maybe, i should stop working from home.”

you release a shaky breath, come over with relief, squeezing his larger hand in yours, “if that’s what you want, i won’t stop you. but you don’t bother me, suguru.”

he meets your eyes, and if you were anyone else, you wouldn’t have noticed the slight crease between his brows. but you’ve spent more than enough time around him—gazing at him in awe—to know him better than you know yourself.

you continue talking, dragging your hands up his arms and draping them around his neck, “i like when you call me, i like when you text me, and i like when you bring me lunch. i like when you bring me gifts, i like when you wake up extra early just to drive me, and i like when you insist on picking me up too.

“you’re never a bother to me, because i love you.”

he doesn’t say anything, but he smiles, wide enough to narrow his eyes and hides his face into your shoulder.

you let him, of course.

you always let him grab onto you like this, because unbeknownst to him, you’ve seen his sticky note collection. and you’ve noticed the way he tightens his hold around you in the mornings, when you try to leave his grasp and get ready for the day.

you’ve heard the way his chair rolls over the laminate floor in his office as soon as you step inside your shared flat. you’ve picked up on his quiet hum when you kiss his cheek. you’re more than aware of his unwavering gaze as he listens to you ramble about your day. and beneath the steady stream of water, you’ve seen his gentle grin as you kiss his chest.

“let’s go,” you mutter with a smile, taking his arm to drag him to the bathroom. “i’m sweaty and i need to wash my hair.”

suguru follows without a single protest, already anticipating hearing about your work before he works the knots out of your tense shoulders.

you bite your bottom lip to hide your smile, pretending you don’t notice the way he seems to hurry you inside.

while he may be hoarding your sticky note greetings, and stealing glances when he thinks you’re not looking, your desk is cluttered with all the little gifts he gives you. and stuck to the wall, where you can always see him, is a candid polaroid of him.

note: i promise im not dead- just hella busy T^T

i'm working on this super long gojo fic but have this soft little geto brainrot piece while i attempt to finish the gojo one LMAO

#getou suguru x y/n #getou suguru x reader #dont mind me #just feeding the new hyperfixation

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childe-dni · 3 years

Text

Blue Stained Brown

childe x reader

wc: 830

warnings: nothing explicit but slightly more mature ideas/themes

just childe things

a/c; I promise this started out normal but it was kind of like a stream of consciousness and that's how we ended up with whatever happened here

You felt the involuntary smile spread across your lips as you heard the door close and a familiar ‘Honey, I’m home!’ ring through the house in succession. It was early in the evening, you had already been and gone to work, and evidently your partner was home from his job too. With dinner just about ready, you turned off the stove and prepared to plate the food before bounding out of the kitchen to meet your boyfriend halfway. However, at the sight of him you stopped dead in your tracks, horror contorting your visage. An eyebrow of his rose in confusion, as though in tandem with your reaction.

“Is something wrong?” Childe asked, a weak chuckle in his voice as he attempted to mask his concern.

“’Taglia, look at the state of you!” you exclaimed as your arms flailed around to vaguely gesture in his direction.

Childe’s clothes and skin were marred by large patches of deep brown that were seen more often than not. Meanwhile, with every step he took, his pants and socks left faint tracks of maroon in his wake. You knew enough about what his profession entailed to know exactly what substance it was that had spoiled him and subsequently everything in his vicinity, and you couldn’t help the frown that replaced your grin as you thought about what it was.

“Oh this?” Childe asked as he opened his arms to get a good enough look at himself. “Don't worry, none of it’s mine”, he spoke cheerily, a smug look on his face as he waved you off. “Now, c’m’ere.”

He approached you with those same arms opened wide but you managed to duck and dodge just before he could get a hold of you. You didn't miss the baffled look on his face as you evaded his embrace, which you never did unless you were upset with him.

“What gives? I said it’s not mine. I’m fine”, he asked, not even bothering to hide his petulant dejection.

“I’m not worried about that”, you sighed in exasperation, a hand slowly dragging itself down your face as you did so.

“Then...?” the man trailed off in anticipation, eyebrow raised in expectance.

“Tartaglia,” you sighed again as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I love you. You know I do. But, please, for the love of the Seven stop trailing blood around the house. I cleaned the floors yesterday. You know how hard it is to clean blood. If you get that shit on the carpets then I’ll make sure it is your blood next time”, you seethed at Childe with clenched teeth, the harbinger being reduced to a deer in front of headlights as he stared at you with wide eyes after your outburst.

His expression of shock quickly morphed into a feral combination of infatuation, satisfaction and downright arousal at both your tone of voice and your absent-mindedly formed threat. His eyes were still blown wide, however it was now with desire more than anything. You also caught onto the slightly quickened rise and fall of his chest and you just couldn’t bring yourself to roll your eyes, no matter how badly you wanted to. Instead you focused on ignoring the slight warmth you felt slowly rising in your cheeks.

“Is that a promise?” he asked, voice low as the cerulean pools of water within his irises were set ablaze.

Biting back yet another sigh, you slowly approached the man, eyes hooded and head slightly tilted to one side. Childe’s breath hitched as you began to slowly undo and remove his jacket, hands intentionally splaying over his chest and shoulders as you slipped it off.

“Childe?” Your voice was low and quiet but sultry and assertive nonetheless.

“Yes?” he replied breathlessly.

“I want you to take off your clothes”, you spoke right against him, your breath tickling his ear.

“Yeah?” he nodded at every word you said. You wouldn't have been surprised if you caught him panting with his tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog.

“And then give them to me.”

“Uh-huh.”

“And then get in the shower.”

“Mhm.”

“And while you do that, I'll get these washed. You smell like death.”

“Oh yeah? Wait, what?” he spluttered with a shake of his head, completely caught off guard by the sudden shattering of what he thought was a fantasy manifesting itself before him. That did not go where he expected it to – where he wanted it to.

“And when you’re done, dinner’s ready”, you threw your voice over your shoulder as you turned away from him and strutted into the dining room to set the table.

He watched as you left his sight to enter the other room and he shook his head in disbelief at your antics. He just knew your face was donning a cocky smirk and the thought of it didn't help with the tightness he suddenly felt in his pants.

It was going to be a long night.

#icymi <3

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