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dearlybeelovedreadingroom · 1 day ago

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I'd like to request please! Welt and ratio with a reader who stares at them with these sappy, lovestruck eyes while they're in the middle of explaining something. Then they stop and see them stare that way, and they're like "why are you looking at me like that?" to which the reader, still with heart in their eyes, replies "like what?" Anyways I love your writing so muchhh mwah mwah 🥴🥴🫶🫶

“Don't look at me with those eyes”

Tags: Welt x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Fluff, Slightly Suggestive (but not explicit), Admiration, Affection, Romantic Tension, Heartwarming Moments, Slow burn (Implied).

Welt stood before the crew, carefully explaining the mechanics of gravity manipulation, his cane resting by his side. His voice was steady, composed, carrying with it the wisdom of a lifetime spent on Earth’s frontlines. The crew listened attentively, but you—well, you had your eyes on him, more specifically on his gentle expression, the way his fingers caressed the cane with ease, and the slight glint in his eyes as he spoke of his experiences. You couldn’t help but admire the quiet strength he exuded, the balance he had found between being a protector and a teacher.

As he continued, you leaned against the table, your gaze unwavering, the world around you seeming to melt away in the warmth of his presence. He paused mid-sentence, his eyes catching yours. The air shifted, a moment of silence stretching between you both. Welt's brow furrowed slightly, a bemused smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, his voice dipping into that dry, amused tone he often took when he caught you in a moment of soft vulnerability.

You blinked, suddenly realizing you’d been staring at him with an almost embarrassing intensity. Flustered, you tried to act casual, but the words that came out of your mouth only made the moment more obvious.

“Like what?” you asked, your voice soft, eyes still sparkling with affection. You tried to suppress the fond smile that threatened to spread across your face but failed miserably.

Welt chuckled softly, a quiet rumble that reverberated in his chest. "You know exactly what I mean," he replied, stepping closer with that steady, graceful stride of his. "You're acting like I just gave you the key to the universe."

You shrugged, your heart beating a little faster, but you didn’t look away. "Maybe you did."

Welt's smile softened. He had seen the way you looked at him before, and though he wasn't one to show his vulnerability easily, there was something about your gaze that made him feel less burdened by the weight of the world he once carried. It felt lighter, shared, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t mind being looked at that way.

"You’re hopeless," he said fondly, though the warmth in his tone was unmistakable.

The rest of the crew was too busy with their own discussions to notice, but for you and Welt, the universe had just shrunk into a small, quiet moment, one that held more meaning than anything he could have taught with gravity.

Ratio was mid-sentence, passionately explaining the intricacies of a new theory on intergalactic education reform when he caught you staring. Your gaze was intense, filled with admiration as you looked at him with wide, lovestruck eyes. He paused, mid-lecture, eyes narrowing slightly as he observed your expression. His wavy hair framed his face, and his ever-present confidence faltered just for a moment as he tried to make sense of your gaze.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Ratio's tone was sharp, his voice tinged with the slightest hint of confusion and annoyance—though there was something in his eyes that betrayed his interest.

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift in his attention. Your heart fluttered, but you couldn’t pull your gaze away from his vibrant eyes. “Like what?” you replied sweetly, your voice full of innocent curiosity, though your heart was racing.

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. "Like you’re some lovesick fool. I’m in the middle of explaining a groundbreaking concept, and you’re gazing at me like I’m some kind of academic genius—oh wait, I am a genius."

You giggled softly, still not breaking your gaze. “Maybe I’m just admiring the genius, then,” you teased, the playful tone of your voice laced with sincerity. “You’re not exactly easy to look away from, you know.”

Ratio blinked, his confident posture faltering as a slight blush crept to his cheeks. He was not accustomed to being on the receiving end of such genuine admiration, especially not for something so personal as his appearance or presence. Usually, his brilliance overshadowed everything else. But this? This was something new.

“You—” He stopped himself, shaking his head, clearly flustered, though he would never admit it. “You’re incorrigible. Focus on the topic at hand, would you?”

You only smiled brighter, knowing full well that while Ratio might try to hide it, your gaze made him feel something more than the detached intellectual he often portrayed. Maybe, just maybe, he liked being admired for more than just his intellect.

"Fine," you said with a shrug, "but I’m just saying, you look pretty good while explaining things. I’ll try to focus on the theory… but no promises."

Ratio sighed, a small smile curling at the corners of his lips. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though his eyes softened as he looked at you, the quiet affection in his gaze betraying the outward dismissive tone.

And though the conversation shifted back to cosmic education and intergalactic studies, both of you knew that this small, unexpected moment was far more significant than anything that could be taught in a lecture.

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dearlybeelovedreadingroom · 12 days ago

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Imagine being a sweet, fluffy little creature. Something friendly, adorable; a bunny perhaps. Wayward and free and no concerns save for where your next head of lettuce will come from. You hop and hop and hop and find yourself barreling straight onto a well-polished, crease-free shoe.

When you look up, you meet two warm pools of amber, crinkling at the corners as the tall human gazes down at you with all the kindness of a sun kissing a flower field.

Before you can shimmy off his footwear and carry on your merry way, you are scooped up and brought to face level with him. You wiggle, because air jail is not very fun, but quiet down when you see the man's gentle smile.

"Hello, little one," he murmurs, and you think his voice sounds like if you had gone digging and found a fresh trove of bananas and squeaky toys. "Where did you come from?"

You blink; your nose twitches. You don't respond, mainly because you are a bunny and therefore cannot speak. So you stare at him, taking in his handsome features. His face looks like it could use a few nibbles.

Naturally, he takes you home, because you'd said not a word of protest. It's a comfy place, full of high-end vases and trinkets and tea caddies you will enjoy pushing off their mahogany tables when you have the chance. The fancy drapery ought to be chewed as well. It smells like osmanthus flowers here. You're hungry.

The man slips his gloves off, revealing smooth hands carrying a faint gilded undertone, like he's something far greater than what he appears to be. He gives you what he calls a 'bath,' in a tub full of water carrying a faint eucalyptus scent. He scrubs you thoroughly and you love the way he scritches your ears just right. All the dirt from rolling around all day goes down the drain, literally, but you don't mind it much. You smell like soap and you like soap. (It's not edible, unfortunately: you tried nibbling it when he wasn't looking and had to spit it out.)

After the bath he dries you off with a soft and fluffy towel, almost as fluffy as you are. He's very tender in his actions, never rough. He hums softly as he gets you nice and dry. You flop your ears in tune to his humming; he chuckles lightly and boops your nose.

You hop onto his bed, hoping to stain the fine velvet sheets with some puke, but he scoops you up again and plops you on his lap as he settles among the cushions. "Tired?" he asks you, caressing your soft head.

Your nose twitches and you curl up. You don't want to puke on him.

The man takes that as invitation to tell you a story, words flowing seamlessly into each other. You don't understand a thing, but he's petting you and it's nice. He's rubbing under your chin and that is wonderful. Every time his hand ceases its ministrations you paw at him and he resumes his affections without complaint, without pausing his narration.

Your eyes close in bliss as you snuggle into him for more warmth. The tea caddies can wait until tomorrow to be pushed; the tablecloths can be chewed another time.

#oh this little bunny is flopping over in complete safety and comfort #z 🐉

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dearlybeelovedreadingroom · 13 days ago

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how different genshin boys react to you sending them an "i miss you" message... while they are right beside you.

a/n: first hc!! also i jus realized now that there r probably no phones in teyvat... >.> oh well... consider this a magical phone au whehaha >:3

included characters: diluc, zhongli, alhaitham, cyno, kazuha, neuvillette, kinich, xiao.

verryyy sweet & fluffy fic. theres a lilll neglection if u squint, but thats only coz ur genshin bf is so hardworking ^^ they make up for it anw :3

content below the cut!

🐦‍🔥 DILUC.

"you do realize i'm right beside you..."

it was a fine evening spent in dawn winery, though you were missing one thing..

that redheaded, nonchalant boy.

he was called to do duties with jean and the others, leaving you by yourself.

at first, you didn't mind it, as you didn't want him to compromise his work with your relationship.

but he's been doing this ever so often.

...

when he finally returned from his work, it was already dinner time when we arrived, so naturally, you both spent dinner together, sipping drinks, enjoying the food, and talking about your day.

as he was talking about his day, you couldn't help but realize you've done nothing but miss him. all day. you had a sneaky little idea.

you got your phone under the dinner table and hastily typed out a few words.

"ding!"

"hm..?" diluc ponders why he got a notification this late.

as he opens his phone, reading the notification on his screen.

my lovely girl: i miss you. Sent now

his deadpan face looks straight at you.

"you do realize i'm right beside you...

right?"

you couldn't resist the growing smile on your face, and let out a little chuckle.

"i know, i know... but..."

his dark, crimson eyes looking at you, confusion slurring on his face. gosh, you forgot he was so... attractive. it was alluring.

"i haven't gotten the chance to properly be with you.." you say.

"but aren't we together right now...?" he shots out with confusion. he had a point, but, you mean't something different. you look back upon all those nights he spent working, all those nights you slept alone because he had duties to attend to.

"no- i mean, yeah we are, but... you always seem preoccupied.." you stutter while beginning your sentence. "how so?" he asks, fitting the puzzle pieces in his mind, understanding your statements as you go.

"i mean, you're always out. listen: i don't mind you prioritizing your work and all, but, i just noticed these past days.. i dont know." you said, hesitating at the last bit.

"no baby, you do know. use your words." diluc firmly said. "your attention had been... divided. that is all... but really, pay no mind to me, i think i've just been.. missing.. you. i really dont mind at all. your work is important, i know that... heh." you let out a fake 'heh' at the end so this conversation would be a little less awkward.

diluc stays silent for a moment.

his wine glass is still in his hand, but he hasn’t taken a sip.

"i see." he finally says, voice low.

you don't know if that's a good sign or not.

"...do you remember last week?" he suddenly asks, gently placing the glass down.

you blink. "last week?"

"you were under the weather," he reminds you. "and i made sure to finish everything i had to do before sunset, just so i could get home in time to make that soup you like."

your brows furrow slightly. you do remember that night. you thought it was sweet of him. you were half-asleep the whole time, but it meant a lot.

"i haven't been doing a great job balancing things lately... and i'm sorry for that." he says, not meeting your eyes at first.

then he does.

"but i haven't stopped thinking about you, not for a second." his voice is quiet and serious.

"it might not look like it, but every time i’m away, every minute i’m out working... or... whatever this job requires, i’m thinking of how fast i can get back." he pauses for a short while.

"to you."

your throat tightens a little.

"i don’t say it much," he adds, “but it's how i truly feel.”

you blink again, a little too fast this time.

he reaches for your hand beneath the table. his fingers wrap around yours with a firm sort of softness.

"i’ll make more time. not because i have to… but because i want to." his thumb brushes your knuckles. "and if you ever miss me while i’m sitting right next to you," he glances down at your phone and then back to you, eyes gentle, almost teasing.. "feel free to text me again."

"i’ll always reply."

📜 ZHONGLI.

"you miss me, yet i have not left your side."

the teapot had long gone cold.

the conversation had trickled into silence, though not uncomfortably. the kind of silence zhongli seemed to wear like silk, graceful, calm, utterly content. he was like that, always. able to sit for hours unmoving, watching the sky move while reading a book he picked up in liyue harbour.

and you loved that about him.

you really did.

but still, something about tonight had your chest pulling tight.

you stared at him from across the small table. the two of you had shared dinner, sipped tea, talked briefly about your day. and now... he was gazing out toward the courtyard lanterns, serene and golden-eyed, like some quiet painting.

you loved him.

and still...

you missed him.

a ridiculous thought. you were literally a few feet away.

but you couldn't shake it. so your fingers slipped beneath the table, and you sent a message.

my favorite old man You: i miss you. Sent now

you heard it first—his phone chiming gently. his brow raised slightly as he pulled it from his coat pocket and read.

then he looked at you.

not confused. not surprised.

just... soft. you hear him let out a little laugh.

"you miss me, yet i have not left your side," he said, voice even. thoughtful.

you gave a tiny shrug. “i know. it doesn’t make much sense.”

his eyes studied you for a moment, head tilted slightly, a soft smile on his face.

"may i ask what part of me you miss?"

you blinked. "what?"

he leaned in slightly, setting his phone aside with a deliberate motion. "i am here. and yet, something in me is not reaching you. tell me what that is."

you didn’t expect him to take it that seriously. your lips parted, but the words didn’t come right away.

“…i don’t know,” you said eventually, fiddling with your sleeve. “i think i miss how things felt before. when things weren’t so… quiet.”

he nodded slowly. not hurt. not distant.

just… listening.

“you still love me?” you asked, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

that got a real reaction.

his chair scraped back gently as he stood. walked around the table. then knelt in front of you.

his hands found yours, warm and firm. grounding.

“yes. of course. i love you. with all my heart, i do.” his voice didn’t waver. “i love you now. i loved you then. and i will love you in all the time we are yet to have.”

your breath hitched.

“but if something in our time together has dulled,” he said softly, “then it is my honor, and my responsibility... to light it anew.”

you let out a shaky laugh, half embarrassed. “i didn’t mean to make it so serious. i just… wanted you to know. i’ve been feeling it for a while.”

he didn’t let go of your hands. didn’t move from where he knelt.

“then let me start here,” he said gently, “at your feet. not to beg, but to remember: closeness begins not in distance or time, but in intention.”

“...okay old man... you really have a way with your words... hahah..” you muttered, chuckling a bit.

he smiled at that, though he still questions you on why you still call him 'old man'.

“you may text me again when i sit beside you,” he said, standing and pulling you into an embrace. “but i promise next time, you won’t need to.”

and this time, when you leaned into him, his arms, his warmth, the steady way he held you...

you missed him a lot.

⚖️ CYNO.

“you’re texting me from the same bench we’re both sitting on.”

it was a warm afternoon in sumeru city. the kind where the air shimmered like a mirage and even the birds gave up halfway through chirping.

you and cyno were parked on one of those long stone benches near the akademiya courtyard. he'd just gotten out of a mission briefing. you tagged along because... well. you always did.

he was sitting stiffly, straight-backed, eating dried dates from a little pouch like some kind of ancient squirrel. hadn’t said a word in like 17 minutes.

you were getting twitchy. bored. dramatic.

so, naturally, you pulled out your phone and opened your messages.

my scary general mahamatra 🐪 You: i miss you Sent now

cyno’s phone buzzed. he blinked. looked at the notification. then looked at you.

you stared right ahead, expression blank, like you weren’t doing anything suspicious at all.

“…you’re texting me from the same bench we’re both sitting on,” he said slowly.

“correct,” you replied, still not turning to look at him.

“…why.”

“because,” you said, now turning to look directly into his soul. “you haven’t spoken to me in seventeen minutes.”

“i was eating.”

“you were eating in silence.”

“what did you expect me to do, narrate it?” he said, mildly offended.

you scoffed. dramatically.

my scary general mahamatra 🐪 You: u have emotionally abandoned me to the scorching sun and dry wind. alone. unloved. unfed. Sent now

he blinked again. looked back at the date pouch in his lap.

“…we are literally sharing snacks. i just handed you one three minutes ago.”

my scary general mahamatra🐪 You: and yet. spiritually, i hunger still. You: desert wife. forgotten. Sent now

“you’re not even FROM the desert,” he said aloud, glancing at your latest messages in deadpan disbelief.

“emotionally i am.”

“you’re emotionally unstable.”

“and you’re emotionally unavailable,” you shoot back.

a pause.

“you’re being ridiculous.” he says.

“i’m being honest.” you snare.

another long pause.

“…you’re literally on my shoulder-” he muttered under his breath.

“wow,” you said, gasping, interrupting his sentence.“i feel attacked.”

he finally turned fully toward you, sighing like someone with the patience of a thousand sages. then, slowly, he reached into the little cloth pouch again and plucked out a dried date.

he held it toward you like a peace offering.

“truce?”

you took it.

“…only if you say something nice to me.”

he blinked. “right now?”

“yes.”

“you look… hydrated.”

“…i’m blocking your number.”

he sighs, opening his phone to reconcile.

my beautiful ⚡️ You: wait come back You: you’re like the only person i let rest on my shoulder You: that’s basically marriage. You: you ate all the good dates i want them back You: nvm keep them You: i miss u

you don’t answer.

instead, you just keep leaning your head against his shoulder.

he goes quiet again, but this time… you can feel the tiniest shift in how he’s sitting. the way he lets his shoulder press back into yours. the way he doesn’t move away.

his phone buzzes.

he checks it.

Replying to You | i miss you my beautiful ⚡️: i win. Read just now

he sighs. loud. tragic.

“…i’m never getting my dates back, am i.” he sluggishly says.

he pauses for a bit.

"i miss you more, though." he replies after his disdain.

🍁 KAZUHA.

“ah… do you miss me already, my love?”

you were both lounging on the deck of the Crux ship, some lazy afternoon where the sky was pink and the breeze was soft, and everything just… stilled.

he sat next to you, legs folded, shoulder brushing yours.

your hands were close, close enough to touch, but not quite.

you looked at him.

his eyes were closed, face tilted toward the sun, hair swaying like it had its own rhythm to follow. he looked peaceful.

and that just made you miss him harder.

so you opened your phone.

my wind boy me: i miss you Sent.

a second later, Kazuha’s eyes fluttered open as his phone buzzed.

you watched him blink, read the message, then turn to you — his expression melting into the softest, most gentle smile you’d ever seen.

“ah… do you miss me already, my love?”.

he looked at you with that look. like he’d fold into you if you asked nicely enough.

“yes,” you said simply.

he laughed quietly, breathless and fond.

“should i come closer?”

before you could answer, he already had , moving with a poet’s kind of grace. his knees pressed against yours. his fingers brushed yours, then held them. he leaned in, forehead gently pressed to yours.

“and now?” he whispered.

“…still miss you.”

he pulled back just enough to look at you, lips tilted into a smile that made your chest feel warm and fragile.

“mm,” he murmured, “perhaps words aren’t quite enough.”

and then, without asking again — without waiting — he leaned in.

and kissed you.

slow. feather-light. like he was afraid you'd disappear if he moved too fast.

his hand came up to cradle your jaw, thumb brushing just under your cheekbone as his lips stayed on yours, soft and careful, like he was memorizing you.

and oh my archon, he tasted good. like ... sunlight and.... sea air. in a good way.

when he finally pulled away, barely an inch, barely anything at all, he smiled again, softer this time.

“how about now?” he breathed.

you blinked at him, lips still tingling.

“…i still miss you.”

he laughed again, light and lovely.

“well,” he said, pressing his forehead to yours again.

“then i’ll just have to kiss you again.”

💧 NEUVILLETTE.

“i’m right here, darling."

it started earlier that afternoon, on your way back from the beaumont workshop.

you were just strolling past the upper courtyard cafés, arms full of books and pastries, when your ears caught the sound of some of a particular conversation coming from a pair of women seated near the garden terrace. they were halfway through dessert and completely, tragically unaware of your presence.

“—no, i'm serious,” one of them said, stabbing a fork into her lemon tart. “if i get arrested for anything, i'd want it to be in front of him.”

“the chief justice?” her friend gasped. “no way.”

“yes way. have you seen him? i don’t even care what crime it is. i’d do any crime if it meant being escorted into his courtroom.” you hear both of them laugh.

your steps slowed, just slightly. you told yourself it wasn’t eavesdropping if you didn’t stop walking.

"he could sentence me to 20 years and i'd thank him."

"same! he’s not just hot. he’s like… sophisticated hot. like, he's so tidy... he could be like a hot malewife."

"thats exactly it."

they both burst into laughter, the kind that made you momentarily question your own sanity.

you immediately power-walked away before you started questioning your entire existence.

but like. the worst part? they weren’t even wrong. you knew neuvillette was attractive. you just didn’t realize half the city was this feral about it.

and it kind of got to you a little.

you knew better than anyone. you’d seen the side of neuvillette they didn’t: the softness, the gentleness, the man who kissed your hair before leaving, who sat quietly beside you on foggy mornings, the one who carried the weight of so much but still found space for you.

you weren’t going to bring it up. you weren’t. that would be dramatic.

so by the time he showed up to meet you later that evening, looking all elegant and put-together and looking criminally good, you were already fighting demons inside.

"you're quiet today," he said, walking beside you.

you blinked. "mhm."

"did something happen?"

you hesitated. you didn’t want to say it out loud. it felt weird. but you were weird. so you did the next best thing.

you pulled out your phone and typed:

sir sexy judge You: i miss you Sent now

he looked at the screen. then at you. "i'm right here, darling."

you didn’t reply. just sent another.

sir sexy judge You: i know. that’s the problem. everyone else sees you too. and they all think you’re hot. it’s literally unfair. Sent now

he just stared at the message.

"...was someone bothering you?" he asked, very calmly.

"no."

"were they looking at you?"

"baby no, this is not about me, this is about you." you groaned. "i literally overheard two girls talking about how they’d commit crimes just to get arrested by you."

neuvillette blinked. "...pardon?"

"one of them said they'd do anything to be noticed by you" you mumbled, scrolling. "the other said she’d cry in court just so you’d look at her."

he looked like he was short-circuiting.

"...oh."

"yeah." you sighed, cheeks a little hot. "it’s not a big deal. it’s just… i don’t know. you’ve been really busy lately. and i get it. i do. it’s important. i just miss you. and hearing everyone else be down bad for you just made it worse."

a pause.

then.. he gently reached for your hand, warm and steady.

"i had no idea you were feeling that way," he said quietly.

"it’s fine, really—"

he shook his head, soft. "no. it’s not nothing. you deserve to feel seen. not just when i’m around. always."

he pulled your joined hands to his lips, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.

your heart did an actual flip.

"you’re the only person i want looking at me like that," he added.

you blinked. "...seriously?"

"yes. always."

"okay well. just so you know. i do look at you like that. all the time. it’s insane in my head."

he smiled.

"good. then please," he leaned in a little closer, "keep texting me. even if i’m right next to you."

you grinned, cheeks burning. "you’ll regret that. i’m very annoying."

"then i’m looking forward to it." he chuckles.

📗ALHAITHAM.

"you’re literally right here, with me."

you were sitting on a bench near the akademiya, next to your ever-so-lovely boyfriend, who was doing what he does best: reading.

and ignoring you.

okay, no. that was dramatic. but still.

it was sunny. the weather was perfect. you had nothing to do today except spend time with him. and he had agreed to go out with you. technically. he even suggested this spot, which was nice and quiet and lined with trees.

but he also brought a book.

and now he’d been reading it for the past twenty-three minutes and hadn’t said a single word.

he turned a page with no shame whatsoever.

you glared at him.

he blinked, sensing it, then tilted his head a little toward you. “…you’re staring.”

"yeah, well," you muttered, crossing your arms, "i’m bored."

he hummed in acknowledgment. turned another page.

you blinked slowly. okay.

you reached for your phone.

my hot ai bf You: i miss you Sent now

not even three seconds passed before his phone buzzed on his lap.

he glanced at it. blinked. then turned his head to look at you, unimpressed.

"you’re literally right here, with me."

"mhm." you stared straight ahead.

another text buzzed in.

my hot ai bf You: i miss you like. emotionally. like ur here but ur not really here. You: and i am withering. Sent now

he stared at the message.

"you’re being dramatic," he said flatly.

you side-eyed him. "and you are being unboyfriendly."

"you knew what you were getting into when you started dating me."

"what do you mean?"

he gave you the driest look known to man. "you’re the one who asked me out."

you gasped. "because you tricked me with your pretty face. now i’m emotionally invested. and now... neglected."

he sighed like he was in pain. "...you're sitting beside me."

"but you’re mentally in chapter nine," you shot back, folding your arms again.

"and what would you like me to do?"

you glanced at him, annoyed. "pay attention to me."

a pause. he shut the book.

you blinked. "wait—"

"i’m paying attention now." he turned to face you completely. "go ahead."

"n-now i feel put on the spot—"

he smirked, just barely. "hm. not my problem.", he says, about to open his book again until you call his name out again.

"alhaitham."

"yes?"

you scowled at him. "...i missed you."

his expression softened a little. not much. but enough for you to catch it.

"...i know," he said. "sorry. i just got absorbed in what i was reading."

"i noticed." you said, smirking a bit.

"i’ll put it away. you have my attention now." he says, genuinely.

you tilted your head. "...fully?"

"undivided." he calls.

"you better not be lying." you say while scowling.

"you’ll know if i am."

"how?"

"because i’m going to do this...." he leaned in and kissed your cheek, then your jaw, then your lips. slow, warm, lazy. like he had all the time in the world and it was yours.

you blinked hard when he pulled back. "you weren’t doing that earlier."

"that was before you sent a passive aggressive text message."

you looked away, flustered. "it was not passive aggressive. it was poetic."

"mm. sure."

his phone buzzed again.

he checked it. looked at you.

disturbance (my disturbance tho) disturbance (my disturbance tho): can u kiss me again. for emphasis Sent now

he rolled his eyes. "needy."

"you like it."

"...unfortunately," he muttered, and leaned in again.

🦖 KINICH.

“…i’m right here.”

you didn’t mean to overhear it.

you’d just finished dropping off a package of materials while kinich was still negotiating pay. he was a bit behind, something about someone trying to lowball his rates again...

so you’d gone ahead. you thought you’d be in and out.

but then you walked past two scouts whispering by the canopy stables.

“is that the one always tagging after kinich?” you hear one mumble. “mhm. dunno what their deal is. they don’t even do anything.” “right? like, he’s a fuckin' legend. they’re just… there.” “maybe he lost a bet.” “nah. maybe it’s a pity thing. or he needed someone to carry his gear.”

they laughed. not loudly. not meanly. but enough. enough to stay lodged in your chest the entire walk back.

when kinich finally met up with you again, he didn’t say much. just handed you a drink and gestured for you to sit beside him on a flat stone overlooking the ridge.

he didn’t know.

he hadn’t been there.

he was beside you now, silent as ever, eyes trained on the canopy below while you sat with your thoughts swirling too fast and too loud.

you didn’t want to say anything.

you couldn’t say anything. it’d sound petty. or dramatic. or worse... insecure.

so you did what any mildly overwhelmed person in teyvat with a phone and feelings would do:

you sent a text.

my video game lova You: i miss you Sent now

he blinked at the buzz from his screen.

tilted his head at you.

“…i’m right here.”

you didn’t look at him. just hugged your knees a little closer and shrugged.

he stared a moment longer. then turned fully toward you.

“…did something happen while i was gone?” his instincts are incredible.

you pressed your lips together. “no. not really.”

he waited. didn’t push. just watched you with those sharp, quiet eyes.

you glanced down. “…some people were talking. just stuff. dumb stuff.”

“about what?”

“about me.”

he didn’t blink.

“i don’t think they knew who i was,” you added quickly. “they were just talking like… i was no one. like i didn’t belong near you.”

he stayed silent. unreadable.

you smiled a little. the bad kind. a fake smile. “they’re not wrong, really... you’re a whole mythical hunter-slash-legend-slash-dragon-wrestler or whatever, and i’m just—”

you gestured vaguely. “me.”

kinich didn’t speak.

you stole a glance at him.

his eyes hadn’t moved from your face. “what else did they say.”

you paused. “…does it matter?”

“yes.” he said sternly.

your breath caught.

“what someone says about you when i’m not around,” he said evenly, “is still something i care about.”

you felt your throat go tight.

he looked down, then back up. “…i didn’t realize this kind of thing was happening.”

you said nothing.

“i should’ve,” he added.

you opened your mouth, to tell him it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t need to say that, but the words fizzled out when he reached for your hand.

his palm was warm.

“…i can’t stop people from being stupid,” he said, voice low. “but i can remind you who you are to me.”

you looked up at him, surprised.

he wasn’t blushing. wasn’t flustered, he was just... steady. like this was the easiest truth he knew.

“you’re not someone i keep around out of pity,” he said.

you nodded once, but he wasn’t finished.

“you’re not background noise. you’re not in the way. you’re not some tag along.”

his voice was sharper now, not angry at you, but at the words you’d let fester inside your mind.

“you’re the only person i’ve let this close. and that’s not by accident.”

your heart beat a little harder.

then he added, a bit quieter:

“…i miss you too. even when you’re beside me. sometimes i just… don’t know how to say it first.”

you blinked fast. “you just did.”

he paused. then looked down, like he was suddenly realizing it too.

“…oh,” he murmured.

you laughed under your breath.

and before you could overthink it, you leaned in and kissed his cheek.

kinich blinked.

then turned bright red.

“…was that allowed?” he asked.

you nodded quickly. “mhm. very allowed.”

“right.” he coughed into his sleeve. “okay. just checking.”

you smiled.

your phone buzzed again.

you checked the screen.

my video game lova: text me again if anyone talks down to you. i’ll be there faster than a geoshroom rolling downhill. Sent now

you grinned as you typed out your reply.

You: is that a threat?

his reply came fast.

my video game lova: that’s a promise. my video game lova: also.

he leaned just slightly closer. his voice softer now.

“...i want to kiss you properly. may i?”

you nodded.

this time, when his lips touched yours, it didn’t just say i’m here.

it said you’re mine.

always.

💨 XIAO.

“…i’m here.”

it was a quiet evening in wangshu inn, the kind where the sun was starting to dip, washing everything in warm gold.

xiao had returned from a commission not long ago, and now he was seated next to you on the wooden balcony, his arms crossed, eyes on the horizon, expression unreadable as ever.

the two of you weren’t talking exactly, but that wasn’t unusual.

xiao wasn’t really a conversation guy. which… you didn’t mind.

except you’d missed him. like, really missed him.

you couldn’t say why, exactly. maybe it was how often he vanished into thin air, maybe it was the fact that he always acted like he wasn’t allowed to miss you.

so you reached for your phone.

my hot yaksha bf You: i miss you. Sent now

you hit send, then looked away like you didn’t do anything.

xiao’s head tilted. he blinked, confused at the sudden buzz from the pouch at his side.

he didn’t usually check messages in front of people, but it was you. so he fished it out.

he read it once. then twice.

“…i’m here.”

“i know,” you say, hiding your grin.

he paused, then stared at you out of the corner of his eye. “…then why would you say that?”

“because i still missed you,” you reply. “being near you isn’t the same as, like, actually... having you.”

xiao furrowed his brows, like he was doing math in his head.

“...you have me.” he said it quietly. and very seriously.

you laughed a little, mostly out of surprise. “okay, that’s actually kinda sweet.”

he stiffened “i didn’t mean— i just meant that you’re not without me. even when i’m gone.”, he explained.

“xiao,” you blinked, “you don’t have to walk it back. it’s fine. i get it.”

he looked deeply unamused. “i don’t walk.”

you burst out laughing at that, and he looked confused again.

he was silent for a moment. the breeze shifted. “…i missed you too.”

you blinked. “what?”

he didn’t repeat himself. he just quietly reached for your hand, fingers curling around it, eyes focused straight ahead like he wasn’t acknowledging the contact at all.

and then, after a while:

“...should i respond by text next time?”

you nodded, letting out a little chuckle, lips twitching up. “yes. with at least three hearts.”

xiao frowned deeply. “unreasonable.”

you leaned against him. “you’ll live.”

he didn’t argue.

he just held your hand tighter.

oooof this took so long. hope you liked it! :P

19 notes · View notes

dearlybeelovedreadingroom · 14 days ago

Text

Stopping Before Starting

CW: NSFW

A/N: there's a lot of stories where the reader is like always 100% when it comes to their first time with a character like zero hesitation about getting penetrated and all but what about the very unsure ones that get scared before or during the actual act and have to call it quits?

Might write for more in the future but who knows

-------

Alhaitham's observational skills are unmatched so as soon as he notices the discomfort in your eyes as he spreads your bare legs he stops.

"Is this still ok or would you like to stop?" He watches as you hesitate to answer trying to find your voice. He pets your thigh smoothingly. "I won't judge you if you need a break or if you'd like to stop entirely. It's your call."

It takes a moment but you nod your fingers shaking as he takes your left hand to kiss your knuckles. "Alright. We'll stop. I'm not mad nor am I disappointed. We can always try again later, there's no need to rush."

Alhaitham backs off a d let's you close your legs and passes you the nearest piece of clothing: his shirt and your underwear.

"Do you need anything? Water? A bath?" But you shake your head getting comfortable in his bed. He lays beside you in the bed and pulls the covers up over the both of you. "Let's sleep for now then. Goodnight."

Zhongli's tongue and teeth on your neck is novel to you and hypnotizing really. The steady rhythm of his kisses and his fingers pumping in and out of you lull you into a sweet floaty embrace. But that only lasts for so long until you feel his cock press against your thigh and the sudden awareness of it makes you uncomfortable.

You try to relax, leaning into his touch but it just doesn't feel much better. That overwhelming anxious feeling that 'yes, this is happening' just won't leave you no matter how good his touch feels. So you speak up.

"Can...um..can we-" You swallow trying to open your mouth but it's like you can't breathe. He pulls back enough to get a better look at your face expression puzzled. "Yes? 'Can we' what dear?"

You clear your throat. "Can we...stop?" You start to fumble around with your words trying to explain but he stops you with a finger on your lips. His face is serious but not cold or harsh.

"You need not explain yourself to me. Before we began we both agreed to stop at any point no matter how far we have gone should either of us wish it." He strokes your cheek with the back of his right hand.

"My treasure you are worth the wait. Even if that day should never come, that does not mean I will love you less. Now..." He sits up with you on the bed passing you his shirt while he puts back on his pants. "Shall I make us some tea or shall we turn in for the night?"

Welt has just hooked his thumbs under the waist band of your underwear when you freeze. He glances up at you from his spot on the floor kneeling before you as you sit on his bed.

"Do you want to stop?" Welt listens to you scramble for an excuse on why you're fine but he shakes his head removing his hands from your waist. He pushes up his glasses with a sigh.

"You shouldn't force yourself to be ready to please your partner." He takes your hands in his and stares up at you patient as always. "No one knows you better than yourself. If you feel you're not ready, then you're not ready."

"What if I'm never ready?" Whisper biting your lip. He smiles softly patting the back of your hands. "Then you're never ready."

"I love you regardless if we have sex together or not." He stands up passing you your discarded pants and motioning for you to scoot further into the bed to make room for him to lay beside you. "Besides there are multiple ways to have sex without penetration. Even if you did not wish to have sex at all I will not leave you for not letting me hold you."

He folds his glasses and places them on his nightstand before rolling over and pulling the sheets over the both of you.

"Let's just take a nap for now. We can explore our options later when we're both more calm and well rested."

46 notes · View notes

dearlybeelovedreadingroom · 15 days ago

Text

How they show love without saying it

SOrry that I was gone for so long gang

Pls forgive me

Here is how I think tall Genshin men would show their love

Pls enjoy

Its long af

Also minors DNI as there are NSFW themes mentioned and explored here so for your safety and developmental health DO NOT READ THIS!!!

✦ Diluc

Acts of service are his primary love language. He’ll quietly fix things around your home. Your broken lamp, a creaky door, even your cracked tea mug—and never say a word about it.

He memorizes your daily routine, making sure your path is always well-lit at night, and there's always hot tea waiting if you're late.

When you come home whining and crying about how stressful everything’s been, how your boss was a fucking nightmare and nothing's going right, Diluc just listens at first—stoic, quiet, pulling you close like always. But comfort only goes so far. He knows exactly what you need, and it’s not tea. It’s him dragging you to the bed, spreading your legs, and eating you out like it’s the only thing that’ll fix you. He holds your thighs down, tongue deep and slow, making you sob from the overstimulation until your eyes are glassy and your voice breaks—because if you’re going to cry, it sure as hell won’t be from work.

You never ask him to walk you home, but he shows up anyway—silent beside you, but his presence says, I worry, I care, I’m here.

When he hears you’re sick, you just wake up to a stockpile of medicine, soup, and blankets, all with no note. Just a faint scent of his cologne left behind.

He’s bad with words, but his gaze lingers. Longer than it should. And when you look back, he looks away.

✦ Kaeya

He flirts with everyone, but the way he remembers the small things about you—your favorite fruit, that one story you told in passing—is how he truly shows affection.

Always has a spare coat or handkerchief ready. Not that he’ll admit he brought it for you. “You just looked cold, sunshine.”

He flirts with the whole damn tavern, but the second you’re alone in the alley out back, he proves just how little anyone else matters. You're barely able to catch your breath from the walk there before he’s got you pressed up against the cold wall, dress rucked up, panties shoved aside, and his cock buried deep. He holds your wrists above your head with one hand, the other gripping your waist, his breath hot against your ear as he fucks you hard and fast from behind. The bar's music still thumps through the walls, but all you can hear is the wet slap of skin and your own breathy moans as he drives into you like he’s been waiting all night. You wanted his attention? Now you’ve got it—and he’s going to make sure you don’t forget who you belong to.

If someone dares upset you, they mysteriously have a very bad day soon after. He never confirms it, but his smug smile says enough.

He buys two drinks from Good Hunter—your order and his—without asking. Just slides it toward you while pretending it’s no big deal.

He walks on the outer side of the road, always between you and any danger. Never says why. Never will.

✦ Zhongli

He speaks poetically, but the love is in his constancy. He shows it in the way he listens to you—truly listens. No interruptions, no drifting attention.

Keeps you out of the rain with his umbrella—so subtly that you don’t notice until you’re dry and he’s half-soaked.

He’s slow, deliberate, reverent—your body worshipped like something ancient and sacred beneath him. In the soft golden light of your shared bedroom, he moves with purpose, hips rolling deep into you, slow enough to make you whine for more. He kisses every inch of your skin like a vow, hands firm on your thighs as he splits you open with such aching care. And when he finally presses a kiss just below your navel—right over your womb—you feel it in your soul. It’s not just sex with him, it’s devotion. He’s filling you with more than just his cock—he’s pouring every ounce of love, want, and need into you until you’re trembling beneath him, completely and utterly his.

He always remembers what flowers you like and places them in vases around your shared space without saying a word.

Brings you warm tea just when you're thinking about it. Every single time.

If you're anxious, he’ll place a grounding hand on your back or shoulder—no words, just silent strength.

✦ Childe (Tartaglia)

He’s loud and dramatic, but his true love comes through in his protectiveness. He’ll keep a casual arm around your waist when walking in public—not just for affection, but to keep you close.

Teaches you how to fight—not to make you a soldier, but because he wants you to be safe when he’s not there.

He’s loud, cocky, and loves to show off—but when he’s got you on your back with your legs over his shoulders, he gets real serious, real fast. After a long day of spoiling you and hauling your bags like the overprotective bastard he is, he ends it by fucking you like it’s a war he's winning. He slams into you with wild precision, rough enough to make the headboard crack against the wall, grinning every time you moan his name like a prayer. When you’re shaking and crying out, nails digging into his back, he leans down, sweat dripping off his jaw, and growls about how tight you are—how no one else will ever get you like this. Not when you're this full, this ruined, this his.

Whenever he travels, he brings back something small for you. A trinket, a snack, a funny story. “Saw this and thought of you. Weird, huh?”

You never carry heavy bags when he’s around. He snatches them from your hand with a scoff, “What kind of guy would I be if I let you do all the work?”

Late at night, when he thinks you’re asleep, he strokes your hair and murmurs how much you mean to him.

✦ Baizhu

He checks on your health constantly, but in soft, non-intrusive ways—subtle glances at your hands for signs of stress, casual questions about your sleep patterns.

Slips herbal sweets or calming tea into your bag without telling you. Just in case.

He handles you like a fragile prescription—careful, methodical, but with a knowing touch that always lands exactly where you need it. You come to him aching, worn down, and he insists on giving you a "full-body remedy." He spreads your legs on his clinic table like he’s preparing for an exam, fingers slow and deep inside you, stroking places that make your back arch. He talks you through every pulse and tremble, voice low and clinical, even as you're gasping for more. And when his cock finally slides in, it’s a slow, thorough treatment—his hips grinding deep as he murmurs about how good you're taking it, how your body’s responding perfectly. It’s filthy and tender all at once—Baizhu doesn’t just fuck you, he treats you, and you leave that table ruined in all the right ways.

Always has a warm cloth ready if your hands are cold. Holds them gently like he’s diagnosing the soul.

If you mention a minor ache or issue, the next day there’s a custom remedy made “for a patient” that just happens to be perfect for you.

Doesn’t always say “I love you,” but he adjusts his schedule to make time for you—something he does for no one else.

✦ Ayato

A master of keeping feelings hidden, so his love shows in how he makes space for you in his world—in his schedule, in his home, in his heart.

Silently ensures your favorite dessert is served at every gathering he hosts. Even if you say you don’t want anything, it’s there.

He’s polished, composed, always one step ahead—but when the doors are locked and your knees are on the edge of his expensive desk, he fucks you like you’re the only thing that ever made him lose control. He doesn't rush—no, Ayato devours you with finesse, hips grinding in deep, slow circles that leave you trembling. Your cries echo off lacquered walls, but he doesn’t care. He slides a hand into your hair, tilts your head back, and keeps going until your legs shake and you’re clenching around him like you’ll break. He’ll go right back to attending meetings with his usual calm after, but the bruises on your hips and the mess on his pristine shirt say otherwise—because you are his favorite secret to indulge in.

He’s always busy, yet if you text him late at night, he replies instantly—even if it’s just an emoji or a single-word response, it means you come first.

You’ll never see him panic, but when you’re upset, he’ll appear by your side with your favorite book, a cup of tea, and a quiet smile.

He doesn’t talk about you publicly, but his subordinates know: if it involves you, it matters.

✦ Thoma

The king of quiet caretaking. You’ll never have to do chores around him—he’ll cook, clean, and hum while doing it all, smiling softly when you offer to help.

If you’re having a bad day, he doesn’t ask what’s wrong—he just makes your comfort food, lights a candle, and sits beside you with patience.

He’s the kindest man you know, always cleaning up after you, doting like it’s second nature—but when he gets you alone, he’s dangerously sweet. He has you bent over the kitchen counter he just wiped clean, fucking you from behind with a low groan in your ear, your apron still half-on and your moans muffled by your own forearm. He grips your waist like he’s holding you together, thrusts steady and deep, muttering soft praises about how good you feel, how perfect you are for him. And when you start to fall apart, he wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you upright like the good boy he is—always taking care of you, even when he’s fucking the life out of you.

Keeps a list of all your likes and dislikes in his head and plans around them. The weather’s cold? He already packed your scarf.

Always brings back something small from his errands—flowers, snacks, a shiny rock he thought you’d find cool.

He says “take care” like he means “please don’t get hurt, I’m begging you.”

✦ Itto

He’s loud, chaotic, and messy—but his love is in his loyalty and pride in you. You’re his favorite topic. If someone asks about his gang, he ends up bragging about you instead.

Will fight anyone who so much as jokes about you in a weird tone. Immediately. Doesn’t care who it is.

He’s all bark and biceps until he’s got you pinned under him, rutting into you like he’s got something to prove—and he does. You’re his, and he’s gonna fuck you like he wants the whole neighborhood to know. The bed creaks, the headboard bangs, and you’re gripping the sheets like your life depends on it while he keeps pounding into you with wild, relentless thrusts. He moans loud, praises you louder, and when you start crying from the stretch and the pressure, he just grins, wipes your tears with his thumb, and keeps going. “Look at you, takin’ all of me like a champ,” he’d say if he wasn’t too busy making you scream his name into the damn mattress.

Shares his food with you, even if it’s his last dango milk. That’s a big deal.

Tries (and fails) to do things like write you poems or make handmade gifts. They’re usually bad—but endearing in the way he gets so excited to show you.

He’s the kind of guy to carry you on his shoulders just because. To him, it’s not about showing off—it’s about holding you up where you belong: “at the top of the world, babe.”

✦ Alhaitham

He’s not showy about his feelings, but his love is in his consistency and attention to detail. He’ll remember exactly how you like your tea, your preferred seat in a library, the book you were curious about three weeks ago.

If you're walking beside him and the sun is too harsh, he’ll casually tilt his book to shade you instead.

He’s all quiet control and precision until you catch him alone in his study, the world muted except for the slick slide of his fingers undressing you. No grand gestures—just slow, calculated exploration of every inch, tongue tracing lines like he’s memorizing your body’s secrets. When he finally sinks into you, it’s measured but deep, hips pushing forward with deliberate pressure that makes you gasp, then shiver. His dark eyes lock with yours, calm and intense, as he leans close to press a whispered curse against your collarbone, dragging you deeper into the kind of silence where only breath and moans exist. You’re not just his partner—you’re his obsession, and he’ll make sure you feel every damn second of it.

Doesn't say "I miss you." Instead, he leaves sticky notes with neutral reminders on them that end with: You’d better come back safe.

He listens—even when it looks like he’s ignoring you. Later, he’ll reference something small you said during a rant. "You were worried about this, weren’t you? I took care of it."

He offers his headphones to you. That’s his version of an intimate gesture. Quiet, shared peace. Just vibes and closeness.

✦ Kaveh

He shows love by romanticizing every little thing you do. You pick a flower? He compares you to a Renaissance painting. You trip? He calls it a "graceful stumble of a poetic soul."

He decorates your shared space with warm lights and cozy throw pillows, always claiming it’s for ambience, but it’s really for you.

He’s all softness and warmth until the moment he pins you gently to the couch with a sigh, lips trailing hot kisses down your neck as his hands roam possessively over your curves. His voice drops low, full of poetry and promise, murmuring filthy words that make your skin crawl and your pulse race. When he slides inside you, it’s slow and tender but with an edge of desperation, fingers threading through your hair as he presses you closer, whispering about how you’re his perfect masterpiece—flaws and all. You’re tangled in his arms, drowning in the sweet ache of his touch, every kiss a brushstroke painting you as his ultimate muse, craving and claiming you in every lingering thrust.

He always walks you home, no matter how tired or late it is. And he sings—just softly enough that you almost miss it.

Gives you handmade gifts, even if he’s broke. A framed drawing, a handcrafted pendant, a poem he accidentally left on your pillow.

If you’re sad, he tries to cheer you up by distracting you with a passionate monologue about something ridiculous. Works every time.

✦ Neuvillette

Reserved but deeply observant, he notices when your mood shifts by the slightest margin. He doesn’t press—you just suddenly find time clearing on his calendar so he can spend it with you.

Carries a handkerchief for you at all times. He’ll wordlessly pass it to you during emotional moments, his hand gently brushing yours.

He’s calm and reserved until he’s got you backed against a bookshelf in his private study, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles over your most sensitive places. His tongue follows the path of his fingers, teasing you with maddening precision—pressing just enough to make you whimper, then sliding deeper where you need it most. His touch is confident, almost clinical, but there’s heat in every stroke, every flick, building you up until your legs tremble and your breath hitches. When he finally parts you with his fingers and slips inside, it’s slow, intense, and unrelenting, as if marking you not just with pleasure but ownership, leaving no doubt that you’re his to cherish and unravel.

He walks at your pace, even if it means slowing down by half. Always on your left, always watching the crowd for trouble.

Will place your favorite snack on your desk during long days—officially “from the court’s hospitality,” but you know it was him.

When you're overwhelmed, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder and quietly reads to you from his favorite books. His voice alone feels like safety.

✦ Wriothesley

Tough exterior, heart of warm, guarded affection. His way of showing love? Protecting your peace like a guard dog with manners.

Keeps a second pair of gloves just for you in case your hands get cold. Doesn’t say anything—just offers them casually like it’s no big deal.

He’s all controlled strength until he presses you hard against a cold wall, hips snapping into yours with rough, rhythmic force, fingers sliding underneath your clothing to wrap around your pearl-tight heat. His grip tightens with every thrust, his breaths sharp against your neck as he fucks you like he’s got something to prove—something only you can unlock. He doesn’t say much—just curses under his breath, low and urgent, as his hand teases and toys at your most sensitive spots, making your body shudder and your moans spill over. Every hard slap of skin, every calloused finger pressing deep, says plainly: you’re his, and he’s taking what’s his without mercy or apology.

Gives you his coat when you’re cold. Always. No matter how freezing he ends up.

He watches you when you talk—not in a creepy way, but with a sort of awe, like he can’t believe you’re real.

If you're upset, he won’t make you talk about it. He’ll invite you to box with him or cook with him instead, letting you work it out your way. He’s not good at emotions—but he’s always there.

✦ Ororon

His love is in the little things: the way he always makes sure your weapons are clean and ready, even if you never asked.

When you’re tired, he insists on carrying your gear, grumbling under his breath but secretly loving the excuse to help.

Ororon’s quiet strength turns feral behind closed doors. When he pins you against a wall after a long day, his hands grip firm but possessive, sliding beneath your clothes with urgent intent. He doesn’t need to whisper sweet nothings—his actions speak loud enough as his mouth trails down your neck, teeth grazing skin, tongue flicking over bruises he plans to leave. His pace is relentless, a fierce storm of need and control, driving you wild until you’re gasping and trembling under him. No words—just raw, fierce devotion marked by every hard thrust and rough touch.

He’s the kind of guy who shows affection through playful teasing but softens when he thinks no one is looking — a quick brush of his fingers against your hand or a lingering gaze.

If you get hurt, he’s the first to patch you up, his touch careful and surprisingly gentle for someone so fierce.

He shares stories from his travels just to see you smile and hear your laugh.

✦ Ifa

Ifa is more outgoing and sociable than people expect, showing his love through easy conversation, teasing, and warmth mixed with his natural calmness.

He expresses care by listening actively and offering thoughtful advice, always ready to engage deeply with you about ideas or feelings.

Ifa’s playful charm turns deliciously wicked when he’s got you alone. Between teasing kisses and whispered jabs, his fingers find your most sensitive places with practiced ease, drawing moans that make him grin. He loves to push your limits, tracing lazy circles with his tongue where you least expect, making you squirm and beg for more. When he finally slides inside, it’s with a mix of gentle warmth and mischievous hunger, his hands never still, exploring, claiming. His low chuckles and soft curses fill the room as he takes you in waves, making sure pleasure and laughter are tangled together—his signature way of loving you hard.

Enjoys playful banter and sometimes uses humor to lighten tense moments, showing affection through shared laughter and connection.

He remembers little details about your preferences and surprises you with small, considerate gifts like plants or trinkets that reflect your interests.

His love is a balance of extroverted warmth and grounded steadiness—he makes space for you while keeping things lively and genuine.

(Guys I'm so sorry if Ifa and Ororon's parts are off character I haven't even gotten to the Fontaine archon quest and like I've seen them and like never fully interacted with them so like yeah I'm just going off of looks and edits I've seen on TikTok TwT)

✦ Capitano

His love is in his protective presence—always a little too close for comfort, but never crossing boundaries.

Brags about you loudly to his crew, making sure everyone knows you’re his priority.

He’s all sharp angles and rough edges when he corners you against the ship’s bulkhead, hands gripping your hips like he’s holding on for dear life—and maybe he is. His breath is hot against your ear as he mutters curses and promises you only feel when he’s grinding into you hard and fast, claiming every inch with the precision of a captain taking command. His fingers dig into your waist, nails teasing bruises as his tongue finds yours, rough and demanding. When he fucks you against the cold metal, it’s fierce, protective, and utterly relentless—like he’s marking you as his, no questions asked.

He fixes things for you—broken doors, leaky faucets, or a torn jacket—without being asked.

When he’s nervous about you, he fidgets or tries to distract himself with loud jokes, but his eyes always find you.

Offers his coat or armor to shield you from rain or danger, like a living shield.

✦ Dottore

His love is weird but real: he shows it through thoughtful (if bizarre) experiments designed to improve your life.

Surprises you with strange gadgets or potions that somehow end up making things easier—or at least more interesting.

His love shows in strange ways, but when he pulls you into his cluttered lab, the intensity shifts. Fingers slick with something cold and unfamiliar, he teases your skin, exploring with scientific precision that somehow feels impossibly intimate. His tongue flicks with curious hunger, tasting, testing, driving you wild with the slow build of his calculated touch. When he finally takes you, it’s experimental—alternating between delicate care and rough urgency—his whispered calculations drowned out by your gasps and moans. Even in chaos, his obsession with you is clear: you’re his greatest experiment, and he’s determined to perfect every sensation.

Listens intensely when you talk, occasionally taking notes, then later shows up with solutions or improvements.

Despite his eccentricity, he always remembers your favorite things and makes sure they’re nearby.

When you’re upset, he offers a quiet presence, tinkering beside you, proving that love can be shown in many unconventional ways.

✦ Pantalone

Love, to him, is control and provision. You’ll never go without—not when he exists. He ensures it.

Buys out entire boutiques just because you once admired a coat in the window. He won’t tell you—he’ll just gesture toward the wardrobe and say, “Take your pick.”

Behind closed doors, his need to control takes on a more primal edge. He pins you with that same quiet power, fingers trailing possessively over your skin as he claims every inch without words. His touch is both reverent and demanding, guiding you exactly how he wants—slow, deliberate, and with an iron will beneath the silk. When he whispers curses in your ear during the heat of the moment, they’re promises masked as threats, his tongue tracing patterns that leave you trembling. Control isn’t just a word for him—it’s how he shows he owns you, body and soul, in the most intimate of ways.

He never says “I care about you.” Instead, it’s: “I've already handled the problem. You won’t hear from them again.”

Holds your hand only in private—softly, reverently, like he’s touching the one thing he cannot own.

He gives you an untraceable bank account and says, “Just in case you ever need to disappear.” You know what he really means is “I want you safe. Always.”

✦ Dainsleif

He doesn’t speak of love—he speaks of duty and fate. But his gaze softens when it lands on you, as if you’re the one thing he’d defy destiny for.

You’ll never see him rest, but he’ll stay awake through the night just to keep watch while you sleep.

His duty-bound exterior melts away when it’s just the two of you. He’s dark and intense, hands rough but gentle as they explore the delicate places he guards fiercely. His lips brush your skin like a vow, every kiss weighted with silent promises and battles fought for you alone. When he takes you, it’s with a fierce urgency—like he’s defying fate itself with every thrust, every whispered curse. The shadows around you deepen, but under his touch, you feel utterly seen, protected, and claimed—like you’re the only light worth fighting for in his relentless night.

Fixes your cloak when it tears. Wraps your wounds even when you insist you’re fine. He never says anything—just works in silence, his hands careful, like you’re something fragile in a world that breaks everything.

Always walks behind you. Not because he distrusts you, but because he’s made to shield, not to shine.

You once asked if he’d ever known peace. He looked at you for a long time and said, “Only when I’m with you.”

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dearlybeelovedreadingroom · 15 days ago

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Could I request Aventurine, Sunday, and Welt with a very nurturing and caring reader? She treats everyone nicely, bakes, and acts very motherly around younger folks and children.

Baking Sweetness, Healing Wounds

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Welt x Reader, Fluff & Soft Moments, Slow-Burn Romance (Implied), Comfort & Reassurance, Emotional Introspection, Established Relationship (Optional Interpretation), Mutual Care & Understanding, Small Domestic Moments.

Warnings: Mild Angst (Emotional Baggage, Trauma References), Mentions of Past Hardships (Survivor’s Guilt, Manipulation, Religious Trauma – Lightly Touched Upon), Touch-Starved Characters (?), Subtle Hints of Emotional Vulnerability & Coping Mechanisms, Sunday’s Internal Conflict with Trust & Care, Aventurine’s Fear of True Connection, Welt’s Habit of Prioritizing Others Over Himself.

Aventurine had seen all kinds of people in his time—sharks in tailored suits, gamblers clutching their last chips, desperate men who thought they could outwit fate. He knew how to read them, how to twist their expectations, how to control the game.

But you? You weren’t a player in the casino of life. You were something else entirely—a presence so warm, so effortless in your kindness, that it almost unsettled him.

Almost.

"Darling, you’re wasting your energy," Aventurine drawled, lounging at the counter as you set down a plate of freshly baked pastries. "Why bother making all this for people who’d probably trade their own grandmothers for a winning hand?"

You gave him a knowing smile, setting down a cup of tea beside his untouched dessert. "Because everyone deserves kindness. Even gamblers and scoundrels like you."

He chuckled, but his eyes flickered with something unreadable. "Careful, sweetheart. Someone might take advantage of that generosity."

"I trust my instincts," you replied lightly, nudging the plate toward him. "And my instincts tell me you could use a little sweetness in your life."

Aventurine hesitated. It wasn’t that he didn’t like sweets—he had a particular fondness for honeyed treats, though he never mentioned it aloud. It was the gesture itself that threw him off. People gave him things expecting something in return, but you? You weren’t expecting a thing.

For once, the odds were in his favor, and he didn’t have to play a single card.

"Fine, fine," he sighed, taking a delicate bite. His lips curled in satisfaction as the pastry melted on his tongue. "Alright, darling, you’ve officially bribed me. What’s your angle?"

You only laughed, ruffling his hair in a way no one had dared before. "No angle. Just take care of yourself, alright?"

Sunday had always carried the burdens of others. Even now, as a member of the Astral Express, he found himself watching over the crew, offering wisdom where he could, ensuring harmony where it faltered.

And maybe, just maybe, Aventurine would.

But then there was you.

You, who brought warmth into every room you entered. Who always remembered what kind of tea each crew member liked, who made sure the younger ones aboard the Express had scarves in the cold and full stomachs before bed.

"You should let yourself rest more," you murmured one evening, carefully adjusting the golden scarf draped around Sunday’s shoulders. "Even doves need a place to land, you know."

Sunday’s eyes studied you, their depths unreadable. "I am not sure I remember how," he admitted softly.

You smiled, offering him a plate of warm bread. "Then let me remind you."

Sunday hesitated, his fingers brushing yours as he accepted the food. He wasn’t accustomed to such care—not the kind that came with no strings attached, no expectations to fulfill. You gave freely, not out of duty, but because it was simply who you were.

A feathered wing behind his ear fluttered slightly, betraying his emotions. You noticed, of course. You always did.

"You’re allowed to be taken care of too, Sunday," you said gently. "You’ve spent so long looking after others. Let someone look after you."

Something in his expression softened, just slightly. "You truly believe in such a world?"

"I do," you answered. "And I believe you deserve it."

Welt was used to responsibility. He had been a leader, a protector, a teacher. Even aboard the Astral Express, he was the guiding hand, the one others sought for wisdom and direction.

And for the first time in a long while, Sunday allowed himself to believe it too.

But you were the one who reminded him that even leaders needed to be cared for.

"You're always looking after everyone else," you chided gently, setting a steaming cup of tea in front of him. "You should let someone return the favor."

Welt gave a quiet chuckle, adjusting his glasses. "Old habits die hard."

"Then I suppose I’ll just have to be stubborn," you replied with a warm smile.

Your presence was a quiet kind of reassurance, a steadiness that he found himself appreciating more than he cared to admit. He had faced crises that shook entire worlds, yet the simple act of having you set down a warm meal before him, insisting he rest, carried a weight of its own.

"You remind me of someone," he murmured after a moment.

You tilted your head. "Oh? A good memory, I hope."

Welt smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "Yes. A very good one."

And as he sipped the tea, letting the warmth seep into his bones, he realized just how much he had come to rely on your presence.

For the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel like he had to carry everything alone.

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dearlybeelovedreadingroom · 23 days ago

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Being gently fucked by a naga… it’s giant heavy body easily pinning you down… feeling helpless under its weight as it kisses and nuzzles you, making sure you’re not too frightened as it begins to coil around you. It’s two large dicks pressed against your stomach as it bucks into you.. desperately whining through soft hisses… finally sinking one of its cocks into you with a whimper… going nice and slow so it doesn’t hurt you. Gently nipping as your neck as it does so. After it thinks you’re ready, gently pushing the other one in as well… filling you up completely as it holds you tightly in its tail 🖤

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dearlybeelovedreadingroom · 25 days ago

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Notes: really short Welt x fem reader drabble, implied sugar dating, body image issues, self esteem issues, comfort

"Go on, dear." Welt had already put away his paper when you pulled the curtain to the side, your eyes swiftly scanning the area to make sure none of the staff were around. The least you wanted was more of an audience for trying on clothes, it was embarrassing enough that you had to leave the dressing room to show Welt.

It felt a bit odd, seeing him perched so expectantly on the velvet couch. Everything felt both too tight and unflatteringly loose at the same time.

As always, you were the problem, not the garment. Those thoughts had your throat constricting, only allowing a small hum to escape the cloying presence and answer your... Whatever Welt was.

"It's pretty," he comments, saying it as though it's nothing.

You smile, arms wrapped tightly around your chest despite your best efforts to look comfortable. A sigh leaves his lips, light momentarily blinding you as he adjusts his glasses.

"Come here," Welt pats his knee, a firm hand finding your waist the moment you're within reach, "how stunning you look means little if you don't feel it."

There's nothing accusatory in his voice, a hand coming up to cup your cheek almost enough to bring tears to your eyes.

You meekly manage a soft 'I know', feeling horrible for wasting his time with your insecurity.

"Get changed, sweetheart, we'll bring it home and see if you change your mind. I've got a few," you notice now that his cheeks are slightly flushed, your eyes widening as he parts his legs enough for you to see the prominent bulge straining against his trousers, "compelling arguments that might convince you of your beauty."

#👀

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dearlybeelovedreadingroom · 27 days ago

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Massage time !

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ଓminors dni; suggestive ⊹ argenti, boothill, luocha and welt massage headcanons.

⊹ Inspired solely by my need to give them a massage,, I bring you this extremely self serving and indulgent lil post.

Argenti

⊹is unsurprisingly reluctant to them. he truly does not see the need for you to go to such lengths for him, but that is only until he feels the warmth of your hands gliding along his taut shoulders. Spear-bearing isn't easy on them or his back so, breached his fussiness, he will find attention there to be not only sorely needed but also pleasurable (95% due to that is you who is taking care of him, but that's another issue).

he is unused to a touch of this degree of gentleness, so Argenti is prone to goosebumps, shivering and is pretty vocal about what feels good and what does not for him. shoulders, arms and CHEST are almost tender so caution and much care are advised.

it takes a while for him to start requesting them from you, but when gets to, it's always with a tired "my loveee..." and the most pitiful look in his eyes.

Boothill

⊹now, you might be thinking Boothill and massages don't exactly mix, but truth is that he adores them (and any type of physical contact, in fact).

you discover this serendipitously while cradling him after making out or watching a movie as he rests his head on your lap: he loves your hands on his face, ears, neck and scalp.

due to those being the only human bits of him left, they are sensitive to the extreme and Boothill will fluster up beautifully; nevertheless he will shamelessly request them at any time when you're alone, putting his chin on your shoulder or knees if you're lying down and also giving you the puppiest of looks.

scalp and ear massages he finds relaxing unto drowsiness. he will close his eyes and if you didn't know him as much, you'd think he had actually fallen asleep!

Luocha

⊹okay carrying a coffin at all times cannot be comfortable or easy on his shoulders or like, in general. he could really use some tlc!

however...he is a bit of a pain when it comes to anything that has his body as focus. Luocha will never admit to pains or ailments or feeling sore unless he is on death's door :c thus. you have to be the one to insist as if the massages were a reward for you instead of himself...

Luocha will lightly tease you about your eagerness to put your hands on him, though at the end of the day what is it he wants, if not your touch?

he likes getting his hands massaged the most. is that strange? he is a very manual type of man, and appreciates especially if you are to ease them, the back of them, knuckles, the ridges and groves of bone and tendons and so on.

against all odds, they are also erogenous so not only does he find the stroking relaxing but it might also lead to more !

Welt

⊹out of these four, he needs the massages the most, that is without a doubt.

it is sort of difficult to find the right time and place for some with him; not only does he have to be free, but also you have to manage to catch him a little stressed out, exhausted and just about to go to bed for him to agree. now, if those conditions are met, he won't play difficult at all!

Welt will indulge you in this and even let you start wherever you want, as he was going to get comfortable for bed anyway (which is pretty much a cue to give him a full body massage...)

he is pretty vocal and sensitive all over, and will guide you through it if you aren't sure of your own next move, letting you know if you should apply more pressure or ease a bit, or even guiding your hands. neck to chest to abdomen and more is the course of action that yields best results with him.

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dearlybeelovedreadingroom · 29 days ago

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Photos of Our Love ~ Welt Yang

Summary: Welt is trying to find the best way to propose to you. Eventually he decides on photos of the two of you. Hopefully you see just how much he loves you and will accept his proposal.

Pairing: Welt Yang X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Oneshot

Word Count: 1130

Warning: Welt might be OOC?

Masterlist

Welt isn’t the most sentimental person in the world, but he had his moments. Like right now, as he was looking through photos of the two of you, he couldn’t help but get a little bit misty-eyed as he reminisced. He couldn’t believe he found someone so precious and so wonderful such as yourself. And he was glad you made transitioning to the next step in your relationship much easier.

“Hey, Welt? I have the package you asked for. It’s the best we could find on such short notice.” Himeko said as she handed him a small bag.

March peaked into the room as well, narrowing her eyes at the two of them. “So are you going to tell us what was so special that Himeko had to make a special stop?”

He sighed, knowing he couldn’t keep this a secret from the most nosey member of the Astral Express. He pulled out the small box from the bag and opened it. “I plan on proposing to Y/n tonight.”

His crewmates eyes widened in surprise before March started cheering. “Wow! That’s wonderful! I’m so happy for the two of you! Congratulations!”

“Easy March, no one’s said yes yet.” Himeko chuckled before smiling at Welt. “Either way, I’m happy for you both as well. This is a big step for you.”

He nodded. “Yes, this is a very important milestone in our relationship. I just hope Y/n feels the same. I don’t want to catch her off guard.”

“Understandable.”

“So how do you plan to pop the question?” March asked eagerly, leaning in close to hear all the juicy details.

He nodded to the photo album he was flipping through earlier before Himeko delivered the ring. “I plan on using that to help convey my message.”

March clasped her hands together and giggled. “That is SOOO romantic! I have more candid shots if you need them!”

“That’s a great idea. I’m almost surprised you were the one to come up with it.” Himeko chuckled behind her hand.

Welt frowned. “Are you trying to tell me something, Himeko?”

She sighed and waved off his question. “Nevermind about that. Is there anything you need from us before your big proposal? I’m sure you want us out of here tonight so you two can have some alone time.”

“I plan on proposing to them in my room. It’s more intimate there without the possibility of anyone walking. However, if you can keep March away, that would be great. And if you would like to help, March, I have an idea that could use a few extra hands.”

Well, Welt was right that many hands make light work. Before too long, everything was ready. Both Himeko and March wished him luck and he thanked them sincerely. March tried to get him to allow her to listen outside of the door, but Himeko made sure to keep her distracted. Looking around his room at everything, Welt let out a puff of air and gave a self-satisfied nod. Everything looked perfect.

However, for the first time ever in his life, Welt Yang was anxious.

Proposing was a big deal and a decision one shouldn’t take lightly. But he knew it was the right decision to make. He knew he loved you enough to jump into this new life and not look back at his old one. He just hoped you were too.

“Welt?”

Your soft voice shook Welt out of his thoughts. You looked amazing, all dressed up to perfection just like he asked you this morning. He felt his heart flutter in his chest and his smile widen. He was practically overflowing with love for you. He just hoped he could get through all of this without messing up.

You gasped, a hand over your mouth and he beamed at your reaction. All the pictures he loved of the two of you were hanging from the ceiling by glittery thread and shining in the candlelight. He had written about each event on the back of the photos, where and when it took place and all the precious memories he had about it. He was proud of the idea and he was happy you were reading each of the stories as you traverse the memory labyrinth he set up, with help of course. However, he couldn’t wait until you got to him.

When you saw him, you had tears in your eyes. Welt was frozen in place, knowing you’d reach him eventually so he could wipe your tears away. You smiled so brightly his heart beat louder. He really did love you, didn’t he?

“Welt, you did all of this, just for me?” You sighed. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“I ask myself the same thing everyday.” He answered with a laugh. After using the pads of his thumbs to wipe your tears he held your face for a moment longer. “You look absolutely exquisite tonight.”

“Thank you. You look dashing as well.” You nodded to his outfit. “What’s all of this for? We already had our anniversary…”

He took a deep breath. “It’s for something far more special.”

And with that he sank down to one knee. You gasped and he took one of your hands. “Y/n, I love you. I love you so much. You have opened my eyes to what real, true love is and I will never stop thanking you for that. You have made my life so much more vibrant. I couldn’t imagine a single day without your ever present sparkle. You are everything and more and I want to keep telling you how much I love you for the rest of our lives, for the rest of time. Please, will you marry me?”

“Oh, Welt.” You cried, nodding. “Yes! Yes absolutely! A hundred thousand times yes!”

All of the air in Welt’s lungs whooshed out of him. He couldn’t believe it. He could and he couldn’t at the same time. He was finally engaged to the love of his life.

Slipping the ring onto your finger, he stood and kissed you, slow and deep, just the way you deserved. When he broke for air, you pressed kisses all over his face, whispering an I love you after each one.

He gently pulled away to look you in the eyes. “No, I love you.”

You shook your head with a laugh. “No, I love you and no one will ever love you more than I do.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to love me more than you. But I love you more than anyone will ever love you.” Sighing, he held you close and kissed you once more. “I really can’t wait to keep telling you how much I love you for the rest of our lives.”

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