#୧ ‧₊˚orderup!

[catscidr]

Hiii I just found your acc and really like your stuff! Can I pls request lazy morning sex with Jing Yuan (and any character you think might fit this prompt) I just looked and there is not one fic like this of this man when he's like... right there. He's like so perfect for this scenario. Thank you sm and have a great day/night! <3

i just finished writing this its 3am i think i blacked out. everybody give it up for my man jing yuan i need himSO BAAAAD AAHHH i hope u like this nonnie ♡♡ cw: nsfw, mdni. semi-clothed sx, soft dom jy, clt stimulation, size kink if you squint, praise, pet names, slight overstimulation, cuddling n fucking face-to-face, riding, creampie. /not proofread ill do that in the morning. dies/ includes: fem reader, jing yuan, fu xuan mentionned wc: 3,2k

You loved and hated waking up next to Jing Yuan in the morning. On one hand, the rhythm of his beating heart lulls you to sleep, and he makes for a wonderful personal heater; but on the other... he’s a little too comfortable. So much so that every time you sleep with him, you, without fail, end up being late for work. That, or you barely make it in time. At times you would point your finger at him and accuse him of being a wholesome, sleepy version of an incubus, and he would laugh in that smooth, baritone voice of his. 

Regardless. 

This morning was one of those mornings, of course. Jing Yuan came back home for the first time in two weeks the night before- being the general of the Luofu means that he would occasionally have to leave for an unknown amount of time to take care of business. Every time he had to leave, you’d linger around him a little longer than usual, wrap your arms around him tighter than you normally would and let your lips linger on his cheek long enough for the sun to rise completely. 

He’d come back so late last night that you were already sleeping in your shared bed, legs haphazardly thrown over the bed sheets in a poor attempt to regulate your body temperature. The button-up shirt you wore made his heart lunge in his throat in the best way, but the last thing he wanted was to wake you. So, he’d carefully remove his armored uniform, take his shirt off and slip into the bed with you with nothing but his briefs on, and pull you into his chest. You had unconsciously nuzzled closer to him, your body craving the warmth of his body you had missed oh so dearly. 

Which explained the situation you were now in. The dilemma you found yourself stuck in. Jing Yuan was back; you had your face mere millimeters away from his plush chest, his arms held you tight against him, and his soft snores almost convinced you to fall back asleep. Keyword; almost. 

As much as you loved him you knew that he’d be here once you came back from work, so with as much resolve as you could muster, you try wriggling your way out of his grip. With him being as big as he was, though, it didn’t surprise you when he tightened his hold on you, treating you as if you were his plushie threatening to fall off his bed and he was a child.

You let out a quiet oof from his strong grip and reevaluate your options. There weren’t many options, but at least you had choices; either you wake him up, convince him to let you go and then get to work early enough that you don’t risk getting written up again, or you let him hold you and... arrive at work late. Again. Which was the last thing you wanted, given the fact that your boss had specifically told you that she couldn’t allow you to miss another meeting. 

Step one was to summon the ability to be even more stubborn than your lover. Step two is to carefully wriggle your arms up, high enough that you can move your hands and you can use them to your advantage against the beast. It took you some time, given the fact that they were stuck between his and your body, but you succeeded, nonetheless. And you only got one displeased grunt from the sleeping general in response. 

As you’re about to proceed with step three, Jing Yuan cracks an eye open and buries his head into the crook of your neck while curling into you, effectively trapping you between his plush muscles and the duvet. 

Could have gone better. 

“Jing Yuan,” you huff, your voice sounding more like a whine than anything. The general doesn’t respond, leading you to believe he fell asleep again, but his morning voice graces your ears before you have the time to curse him out. “Mhm, I’m up,” he hums, pressing a lazy kiss to your neck in a false apology. 

You wriggle in response, grunting from the sheer effort. One of the downsides that came with cuddling with Jing Yuan was the way he could keep you right there with him as long as he wanted, curse his strength. 

Seeing as he wasn’t going to budge, you decide that two can play that game. You stare into his silky mop of silver hair, pondering whether you should negotiate your freedom or if you should play dirty- but where's the fun in trying to talk your way out of this predicament? You bring a hand up to gently brush his bangs away from his face. He makes a soft noise of contentment at the feeling of your fingers delicately brushing against his face and, before he can grow too comfortable, you lean in and bite his cheek. 

The general makes a noise of surprise, grunting as he pulls away from you to narrow his eyes at his perpetrator. His pout morphs into a lazy smile as he holds your glare. “If you wanted to play you could have just said so, sweetheart,” he says lowly, moving his free hand from your back to letting it rest lazily on your hips, thumb rubbing gentle circles on the exposed skin. 

You stick your tongue out at him stubbornly, “Not now, I have to get up.” Unfazed by your headstrong attitude, Jing Yuan shifts one of his legs to come between yours- his strong thigh sandwiched between your soft ones. A surprised gasp leaves your lips in response to the smooth way he molds his body to yours, but you refuse to allow yourself to be swayed by him. 

“Aeons- ‘Yuan please,” you huff quietly, but he notices the way your voice catches in your throat. His golden eyes briefly shine with what could only be described as mischief and, with a smooth motion, Jing Yuan grabs ahold of your shoulder and swivels you around so that your back is against his chest. A surprised oof rips from your throat as you bounce lightly on the bed from the impact- he lowers his face to yours, a rich, deep chuckle echoing in your ears as your resolve begins to melt away. 

Taking advantage of the new position, Jing Yuan throws a leg over yours to trap you in and, in turn, grinds his growing bulge against your ass. If he wasn’t hard at the sight of your face in the morning when he first woke up, he sure was now; while he slowly ruts against you, he allows his hands to wander down to the hem of your shirt. 

You stifle a moan as the metaphorical dam in your head begins to crumble apart. Sure, you would see him when you would get back home later, but you were with him now. Laying here with your lover, safe and comfortable in his arms while his clothed erection lazily thrusts up into your heat. 

As you let out needy whines that you aren’t even aware you’re voicing, Jing Yuan brings his lips closer to your ear. “Five more minutes?” he asks with a knowing smile, his own breath becoming more and more rugged the more he rubs up against you. Gods, he could feel you throbbing through his sweatpants and your panties. 

You swallow thickly and whine in response, your head already fogging up with desire. Going a whole two weeks without sex wasn’t particularly hard; you had your trusty toy with you and your hands if it happened to run out of battery and you were that desperate. But you weren’t- and during these past two weeks you had felt just fine, totally not pent up or even the slightest bit sexually frustrated. Your job had kept you busy, but when you’re stuck in Jing Yuan’s arms after not feeling him for so long, after not feeling his cock twitching inside you, you felt like something snapped inside you.

Distantly, you think about how pathetic this must look for him; only a few lingering touches and his hips pressing up against yours from the back and that’s all it takes for you to drench your panties. But really, you couldn’t care less. You knew he was just as pent up as you were. 

You bring one of your hands down to fumble with the hem of your panties to quickly take them off, down your legs. Hearing Jing Yuan’s hoarse breathing in your ears only made you even more eager to feel his skin right up against yours. Maybe part of the reason why you were so incredibly turned on was because of how tired you still felt, but either way, you needed him. And he needed you just as badly. 

The general’s hands leave you temporarily to slide his sweatpants down to his thighs, low enough for his cock to leave its confines. Precum builds at the tip, swollen and pulsing with the need to bury itself inside you. He sighs, one of his hands coming up to stroke his length, thumb sliding over the slit every time his fist comes up. You whine at the loss of his hands on you and reach back to take his hand, bringing it between your legs to rub your clit. He laughs at your impatience, shifting his weight on his other arm to lean over you properly. 

“Someone’s impatient and greedy,” he goads. “I thought you wanted to get to work, darling,” he purrs in your ear, his middle and ring finger coming together to tease your bud, riling you up further and making a mess between your legs. A strained fuck leaves your lips as you back your ass up into him, his hard cock tucked between your thighs, rubbing into your arousal. “Please just-” a whimper interrupts you as Jing Yuan increases the pace of his fingers, “-inside. I-I need to feel you,” you huff, feeling too empty. He considers teasing you some more, listening to the wet sounds of your pussy bounce off the walls of your shared bedroom, but his own patience was also waning thin. 

A quiet noise of protest leaves you when the man takes his hand away from your bud. He brings his fingers up to his lips to lick your slick off of them, moaning at the taste. Your thighs clench in response, jerking the general’s cock unintentionally. 

“Fuck,” he growls into your ear, hurriedly taking his length into his hand to guide it into your soaking wet cunt. Your mouth hangs open when you feel his tip slip between your lips, needy noises slipping from your mouth. Inch after inch he sinks into you, slowly letting you accommodate to his girth. He finally bottoms out, stretching your hole as you keen and whine from the satisfaction of feeling so full. 

He waits a few beats to allow you to get used to him, your hoarse breathing matching his own. When he feels you clamping down on him less, he starts to thrust- pulling out slowly and thrusting back in sharply. You moan aloud, mouth agape as his cock bullies your spongy walls relentlessly. 

“Jing Yua-aan,” you whimper, hands gripping onto his forearms weakly, nails forming crescent shapes into his skin. He reduces you to a sleepy, blabbering, moaning mess as the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the bedroom. With one hand splayed across your lower tummy, he presses down, making you arch your back into him from the sudden added pressure and pleasure. 

“Y’ like that? You missed me, huh?” he taunts, though his own voice trails off into a needy moan the more he feels the drag of your walls along his cock. “I know I’ve- fuck, m-missed you,” Jing Yuan stutters, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he feels a familiar coil form in his abdomen. His thigh muscles clench as he wills away his orgasm, needing to feel you all around him for a bit longer. 

Unable to respond you simply nod dumbly, the words leaving your brain as it’s reduced to mush. Your lover hums, a smirk stretching his lips, “Yeah?” He brings his face closer to yours, your breaths tangling with each other before he smashes his lips against yours, the angle awkward and uncomfortable. But you don’t care- the added stimulation makes you melt as you crane your head back to kiss him properly, your lips occasionally leaving his from the force of his thrusts. 

Jing Yuan moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss. He looks at you with pure lust swirling in his golden eyes, your face sinful and needy. An idea pops up in the general’s mind and he smiles down at you, pressing one last chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“Ah, w-what are you-” you slur, your sentence interrupted by the general manhandling you to switch positions. He kicks the sheets off completely and places both of his large hands on your waist, gripping you firmly as he lays on his back, placing you on top him. His cock slips out of your walls with a wet shlick and you whine at the feeling of being so suddenly empty, twisting your body so that your thighs straddle his hips. Jing Yuan looks up at you with a small, cat-like smirk and your breath catches in your throat. 

His silky hair splayed out on the pillows beneath him, cheeks flushed, and eyes piercing into yours made your knees buckle and you suddenly froze in your movements. Feeling your pussy throb against him, Jing Yuan chuckles heartily, one of his hands leaving your waist to stroke his hard cock, your slick dripping down on him. 

“Lift your hips up and sit on my cock, darling,” he orders softly, a stark contrast to the way he looks at you- with pure, unfiltered lust and adoration. Your body moves automatically as you obey, hovering your tight pussy over his swollen tip, and lower yourself down. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, and you feel his girth stretching you out again as you begin to bounce on his hard cock. 

“Yeahh just like that,” he hums, the hand that held his length moving up to rest on your stomach, thumb jutting out to rub tight circles over your sensitive clit. You squeak in surprise, your body jolting forward, and place your hands over his plush chest for balance. “Feels good, baby? Feel how deep my cock is?” 

A moan leaves his kiss-bitten lips and you swear you physically felt yourself get pushed closer to your nearing orgasm, the noises leaving his lips amplifying your pleasure tenfold. “Taking me so well, look at that pretty pussy,” he coos, and you keen as his half-lidded eyes burn into yours. He feels your walls clench in response to the praise and flashes you a dangerous smirk; he places his feet flat on the bed and tightens his grip on your waist to buck his hips up, making you topple over him. Your gaze is unfocused and blurry as you look down at him, heavy breaths leaving your lips, tears threatening to roll down your rosy cheeks from the pace he set. 

“And look at you,” he whispers lovingly under his breath. Jing Yuan throws his head back deeper into the pillows, keeping his eyes on you as he watches you lose yourself to the addicting feeling of his cock bullying your sopping cunt. “Y-Yuan,” you whine, your climax threatening to rip through you as you bite your lip to stifle your needy moans. He tuts, leaning up to bite your lip to pull you out of your pleasure-filled daze. 

“Pay attention to me darling. Thaat’s it, let 'em out for me.” The general huffs, brows furrowing in concentration to focus on the feeling of your warm walls surrounding him, sucking him in endlessly. His thumb presses down onto your clit roughly to bring you closer to your orgasm; you whimper in turn, a chorus of oh fuck and please’s leaving your puffy lips. “I-I’m so close,” you whine, eyelids fluttering shut as you feel your control leaving your body, the tight coil of your orgasm threatening to snap. 

Jing Yuan groans, hips bucking up into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he keeps up the pace, persistent. “Come on, give it to me, pretty girl.” He coos, voice breaking into a whine, close to climaxing himself. His thrusts become sloppier, and he bites his bottom lip to stifle a string of hearty, needy moans. 

His hips still up into you as he cums, thick ropes of his seed painting your walls white. Jing Yuan’s thumb flicks your puffy clit until you climax as well, your cunt milking his sensitive cock. You whimper, feeling your clit buzz with overstimulation as he keeps rubbing it with purpose. “S-Stop, stooop,” you cry, your eyes burning with tears as the dull pain turns into pleasure, “Aeons you’re so tight.” Your lover slows down his movements, easing the tension in his muscles, until he stops circling your clit and gently places both of his hands on your waist. His hands slide up and down your sweaty skin, soothing the bruises that will inevitably form.

Your body slumps, exhausted and utterly spent, arms caging him as you rest your face in the crook of his neck. You both feel sticky and sweaty, but the warmth you shared made up for the need to jump in the shower to wash yourselves off. Jing Yuan shifts his hips so that his softening cock slips out of you; he inhales sharply, his cock still sensitive. 

“I missed you,” you mumble quietly, voice muffled from the way you're pressed into him and the pillows and press a chaste kiss to his neck. “Yeah? I never would have guessed,” the general chuckles, arms coming up to hug you tightly, one hand placed behind your head to cradle you close to him. You hit him with a huff but then sigh, content. 

“Mmh, but I missed you too, darling,” Jing Yuan replies softly. He holds you as your eyes droop, exhaustion taking ahold of your tired body. His own eyelids droop as he listens to your soft heartbeat, and soon enough, you’re both sleeping, legs tangled together while Jing Yuan’s strong arms keep you laid atop of him. 

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but you hear a phone ringing loudly in your ear, jolting you away from your peaceful dreams. You don’t recognize the tune, and as you’re about to wriggle your way out of the dozing general’s arms, he swings one arm over to the nightstand next to your bed and answers it without looking at the caller ID. “Jing Yuan speaking,” he says in a hoarse voice, eyes still closed. 

Even without his phone on speaker you could make out a very loud, very shrill voice from the other side of the line, yelling out two hours late, a single mission and get your ass over here. Jing Yuan doesn’t react, the same sleepy, cat-like smile on his face as he listens to the person rant. They eventually let up and hang up, saying something you couldn’t quite catch. Your lover haphazardly tosses his phone somewhere on the bed and loops his arm back around you, nuzzling into your neck. 

“Who was that?” you ask, voice cracking from how much you abused your vocal cords (apparently) two hours ago. He scoffs, amused, and pulls away just enough to speak clearly. 

“Lady Fu Xuan,” he says slyly. “I should get dressed before she decides to read into my divination and sees things she probably shouldn’t.”

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x y/n #jing yuan x you #jing yuan smut #hsr x reader #hsr x reader smut #honkai star rail smut #jing yuan x reader smut #hsr smut

[catscidr]

I come with more brain rot that occurred to me during my shift.

Xiao being so so nervous to hold your hand with his gloves off. Please kiss the emos hands. He's so scared he's gonna hurt you, but he also wants to make you happy. I personally thing he has sharper canines so the look like fangs, kisses when he mentions them are maditory. He might Telenor away the first few times but after that he might pick up and try and get more kisses.

Scaramouche doesn't know how to complement people. His Kazuha voice line is proof of that. He will try so hard, bur they just come out so wrong. Please teach him how, or ask Nahida to help him. He does love you he's just gotta figure out how to say it.

sharper canines Yes but also xiao with longer and sharper nails…. xiao-with-more-birdlike-design-characteristics my beloved ueueghghh..... anyways moving on

start by taking off his gauntlets first n then kiss his gloved hands to get him used to it! help him get less nervous about handling you by doing small things like that, interlocking your fingers together (still without the gauntlet) and, when he’s finally almost to the point where he’s comfortable ditching his gloves, suggest wearing his gloves in his stead!

there’s still going to be a barrier between your skin and his, so, using his logic, it should be fine! plus the added intimacy points because you’re wearing his gloves….. they might not quite fit but it’s the thought that counts anyways

ooh and when he gives you the green light to hold hands without any gloves… give him so many smooches he’ll forget why he was nervous in the first place ♡ and it opens up a whole buncha new things you can do together! like now you can do each other’s nails! (or just his, if you’re not the biggest fan of manicures)— either way, he’ll still come to you to file his talons nails

he could do it himself by either using the nail file you got him, or by going out to clear some monster camps without the help of his spear, but he prefers the gentle way you handle him instead ♡

scaramouche my beloved. my awkward, maladroit, clumsy, beloved. he knows what he wants to say, and he's so sure of himself that he can say it, but as soon as he opens his mouth it’s like he just…. short circuits.

it's something he never wants to admit, but when he notices that you stopped smiling as much as before when he started... trying to compliment you? because he just ends up confusing you, and eventually frustrating you with the strange "insults" he ends up throwing your way? he can't stand it

but you catch on easily (because he's easy to read once you get used to his attitude), and gradually just play up the act of being hurt whenever he tries to compliment you

he eventually drags his feet to nahida for help, but she already knows why he's scoffing more than usual because you went to her for advice. but she still helps him and pretends she doesn't know why he's asking her "how to compliment people without making their smile droop immediately"; and when he goes to use his newfound skills, you beat him to the punch by complimenting him instead

needless to say, he knows how to compliment you now ( ͡º ꒳ ͡º) will he do it? ehhh, give him some time and eventually he will ♡

#ooh to hold them gently n give them a gentle forehead kiss before watching them flush from the attention ahhHH #i wanna smooch them saur bad ueueue my boys..... #thank u once again krow for the good brainrot #m gonna hop on genshin and stare at scara n xiao for an hour now #୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x you #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #xiao fluff #scaramouche fluff #wanderer fluff

[catscidr]

I heard you need brainrot?

Mine is that Pantalone loses his glasses. He has them on a chain but still loses them like crazy. Therefore his partner just kisses him on the nose and puts them back on his face.

Dottore bites you like a shark. Y'know, the thing they do where they bite their partner? That thingy. Also acts like a dog to get attention. Once he wants attention, you better give it to him or he will scoop you up and whisk you away to his office to do whatever he wishes with you.

YESSS WAHH pantalone spends so much money getting replacement glasses only for you to find them again a couple of days later (good thing he can buy as many as he want without making a dent in his bank account, otherwise he would be broke already. glasses aren't cheap !!)

one time he lost a pair right after buying new ones and you scolded him, saying that he had to be doing it on purpose because.... how? but after seeing the way his face contorted in genuine distress you relented, giving him extra kisses to make up for the false accusation (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

i also like to think that he subtly asks for your input when getting a new pair done!! he can't decide what kind of gemstone he wants engraved in the chain that keeps his glasses on his face? pantalone'll randomly ask you to choose between three colors and will get the matching gemstone without a second thought. the ones you helped him choose always end up being the pairs that take him the longest to lose <3

oh and clingy dottore my beloved..... it's to the point where you swear you can see a tail swishing back n forth behind him when he's in one of those moods. at this point you might as well get him a collar (but you're sure that the weirdo is going to end up liking it anyways /affectionate)

it's a good thing you live in snezhnaya with him because you can get away with wearing thick clothing that reveal only a sliver of skin. turtlenecks and dense pants make up about 80% of your wardrobe; if they didn't, you'd be rocking bite marks on your neck, hands and even legs somehow, out in the open.

but it's not like you completely hate it when he bites you, it's endearing when it isn't painful. sometimes you'll ignore him on purpose just for the attention. uno reverse card. you even bite him occasionally; the first time you did you were blessed with the sight of a befuddled, completely dumbfounded dottore. you bring it up to tease him sometimes ( ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭ mwehehe

#BRAINROT BRAINROT BRAINROT #i love them i just wanna muahmuah their cheeks #my lovable homicidal men..........mmnngngnhnhngnn #thank you for the fluff Eats It Up Like A Starved Man #୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #pantalone x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #dottore fluff #pantalone fluff #genshin x you #dottore x you #pantalone x you #dottore x y/n #pantalone x y/n

[catscidr]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧✧✧ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x fem!reader #dottore x afab reader #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #childe x fem!reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #childe x afab reader #tartaglia x afab reader

[catscidr]

Can I please request Dottore x clingy reader who loves giving him affection thank you! 💕

hell yeah baby that's what i'm TALKIN ABOUT ୧(☉□☉୨ ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, vague mentions of gore includes: gn!reader, dottore, webttore mentionned for like a second wc: 1k

6 minutes. 

That was the longest amount of time Dottore had gone without being bugged by your presence. Well, "bugged” was a bit of a strong word- maybe more so inconvenienced by your endless whining for attention. It’s not that he hated it, it was quite the opposite really, but he actually needed to get work done before tomorrow and couldn’t afford to get distracted this time around. You called out after him for the millionth time today, trotting up to his side with an almost puppy-like expression, looking up at him expectantly. 

Currently wrist deep in the guts of one of his poor victims, he swallowed down the urge to speak his mind honestly, instead choosing to glance over at you from the corner of his eyes. His glare (unfortunately) did nothing to deter your determination and willpower- with his attention now on you, you flash him a bright smile, wrapping your arms around his torso from his right side. 

“Hey, why don’t you take a break?” you ask, tilting your head up to look at him properly. Dottore’s sharp, angular features never failed to make you swoon no matter how many times you looked at his unmasked face. You think it’s a blessing, but he argues that it’s a curse- especially now that you won’t leave him alone, making him pause his work. 

“No,” he sighs for the nth time, bringing his attention back to the corpse on the metal table. “I have work to do. Why don’t you go bother Delta instead? He should be filing out some paperwork,” the doctor says, skillfully shrugging you off of him. You shake your head, resting your hands on his forearm to give him the space he needed. 

“I don’t want to hang out with him though,” you say with a frown, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “Come on, you’ve been working non-stop for ages now. Just a small break! An itty bitty one. Like thirty minutes. You can spare that much, can you?” 

The Harbinger stares at the wall with a deadpan expression, weighing his options. On one hand, he could give in, listen to you and take a much needed break. But on the other hand, he could always just... lock you in his office. Not that he would leave you there for long, just enough for him to get this experiment over with. Plus it’s not like you’d be like a dog stuck in a hot car in the middle of summer without any a/c, he had a plush sofa he never used im his office alongside a mini fridge he also never used. The amenities were there for this exact scenario, anyways- so you’d be comfortable while waiting for him to be done. Although, the more he thought about it, the more his body began to feel heavy, exhaustion seeping through his limbs. Dottore grumbles some choice words under his breath and withdraws his arms out from the bloody mess that came from his current experiment and makes his way towards the sink. You follow after him, curious. 

“‘Ttore?” 

“I give up,” the doctor sighs, his shoulders slumping forward. He turns on the sink and discards his bloody surgical gloves, washing his calloused hands under the cold water to get rid of whatever gunk had gotten on his skin. “What do you want?” he asks in an indecipherable tone. You perk up noticeably, a smile making its way back to your face as you watch him dry his hands and turn around to give you his full attention. 

“Just wanna spend time with you, honestly.” you say a little sheepishly. “Have you eaten yet?” 

“Not hungry.” 

“Wanna take a walk? Get some fresh air?” 

The offer seemed tempting. After spending hours smelling nothing but hospital-grade cleaning supplies, iron and death the doctor wouldn’t say no to a trip outside of his lab- that is to say if he were anyone but the second Harbinger. 

Instead, he grabs his mask and lab coat from the coat rack and begins to walk away, making a gesture for you to follow after him. And you do so eagerly, catching up to him fairly quickly considering how long his strides were. 

Your footsteps echo in the quiet hallways, the only sound bouncing off the ornate walls of the otherwise cold and barren palace. The both of you reach your destination, Dottore pushing the door open to reveal his (barely used) bedroom. Tossing his coat aside and placing his mask on his nightstand, he loosens his button-down shirt and sits on his bed, looking at you with a raised brow. 

“Are you going to stand in the doorway all day?” he asks with the slightest bit of amusement, kicking off his shoes and repositioning himself to lay down on the bed properly. You snap out of it and shake your head, closing the door behind you, jumping in next to him happily. Your bodies fit with one another perfectly, his arms snaking themselves around your waist while you hold him around his shoulders, keeping one free hand to stroke his icy locks. He hums contentedly, eyelids fluttering shut. 

“Happy?” he asks, voice muffled from how close his face is to your chest. Your nails gently scratch his scalp, drawing out a soft sigh from the doctor. 

“Very,” you say, smile audible in your tone of voice. Dottore simply hums in response, basking in the comfort of the warmth of your body against him. Part of you felt the need to ask him how long he wanted to stay like this knowing that the doctor hated being away from his lab but, feeling a bit selfish, you allow yourself to revel in the small victory that came in the form of finally convincing Dottore to let you have him all to yourself for a portion of his day. The both of you drift off peacefully, knowing perfectly well that you’re going to repeat this dance once more in the morning when the Harbinger has to work.

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore fluff #dottore x gn reader

[catscidr]

Could you make a scenario with sick reader and Yandere doctor please 😭

need him to walk into my room in a nurse outfit and take care of me when i get sick... but Alas he's not real... woe is me(༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ)..... WHATEVER i can always write about him anyways so im WINNING EITHER WAY...... (inhales copium) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore, he's a little overbearing, reader has a cold. that's pretty much it (lmk if i missed anything!) includes: gn reader, dottore, iota (youngest segment) wc: 1,3k

Ooohhhh he would be mad. Not in an explosive way, but in a “I’m not mad, just disappointed” way except he IS mad, he’s just really good at keeping his emotions under wraps. You know this, too. He made sure that you did. 

It didn’t matter what kind of illness you came down with; a common cold, the flu, something worse? He’s freakishly good at reading you, and he didn’t need to hear you blowing your nose or sniffling every other second to know you had gotten sick. The skin around your nose blossoming into a darker, reddish tone and your eyelids drooping just a bit lower than usual was enough for him to know you weren’t telling him something you should have. 

It also didn’t matter if you didn’t even see him- he had eyes everywhere, quite literally. It was rare for you to be anywhere in the palace or the lab without one of his clones attached to your hip, whether it be a younger clone tagging along to do something more interesting than breaking open a ruin guard, or an older clone staying by your side, taking a break from work to enjoy your company. 

So, of course, even if the doctor happened to be especially busy when you suddenly caught a cold, you’d still be stuck with him being the equivalent to a mother hen because of how seriously he took your health. 

Usually you didn’t mind his attention, you’d even bask in it, but this time you couldn’t stand it. Your state had been manageable for the past two days and, thankfully, Prime and his clones were none the wiser to your nose overproducing snot nor the way your eyes had more crust around them when you woke up in the morning. But you feared that today would be the day he’d catch you and promote you to being his bedwarmer- literally. Last time you got sick and went to him for help you felt like you were in urgent care, forced to stay in his bed, having at least two of his segments stay with you 24/7, making you eat four meals a day despite your lack of appetite and desperate need for sleep. 

You could insist all you want that you were fine, that you just needed to vegetate in bed for a day or two and you’d be back on your feet in no time, but no, he refused to have any of it. He’d ask who’s the doctor here? in the same condescending voice he used whenever one of his lackeys displeased him (and you’d reply with you didn’t even graduate if you weren’t so tired), and then would throw you over his shoulder to bring you to his spotless bedroom so you could rest while he keeps an eye on you.

The one thing you were happy about was how Dottore wasn’t prone to blatant violence. Nothing physical, at least. When needed, he would slip medication into your water to help you sleep, would graciously lift your sleeve to give you a shot while you were knocked out cold and give you special medicine to make sure you had all the vitamins you needed. He wouldn’t do any of that if you had cooperated with him in the first place, though; so, you couldn’t bring yourself to be mad at him. At least not for long. 

Like clockwork, you were currently going through that same order of events. 

In retrospect, it was a bad idea to indulge Iota and go out in the snow to make a snowman with him- but how could you resist him! The lab could feel so stuffy as it was, and the additional smell of blood covered up by strong cleaning agents only did so little to help you resist his pleas. So, you grabbed Dottore’s Harbinger coat and got yourself dragged outside by the small but mighty youngest segment as he eagerly talked your ear off about having a snowball fight, making a myriad of snow angels and other winter activities you weren’t familiar with. 

After getting absolutely pelted with snow (Iota was good at snowball fights, surprisingly) you hung up Dottore’s coat to dry and made your way to the bathroom to wipe off any snow and water that had gotten on your skin despite the large, fluffy cloak you wore. Iota waved you off with a boyish grin and a taunting better luck next time! as you watched him saunter off into the direction of his creator’s lab. Your fingertips felt cold but as you dried your skin thoroughly you felt your body gradually warm up, and that was enough for your standards. 

Placing the towel on a rack to dry, you then headed over to your room to relax your aching muscles after the remarkably intense snowball fight. You laid down underneath the covers, grateful to be able to take a nap. However, when you awoke about two hours later, you thought you felt your arms weighed even more than before, and your head throbbed an ache that wasn’t there previously. And surely, a day later, you find yourself sneakily throwing away your used tissues somewhere that Dottore won't find them, else he subjects you to his overbearing methods of... curing you. 

You did your best to make your footsteps as careful and light as possible, lowering the chances of one of them finding you with a trash bag full of snot-filled tissues. Unfortunately for you though, maybe you should have worn something other than pyjamas because, as luck had it, although a segment hasn’t seen your physical state, a patrolling agent did. 

He spoke into a walkie-talkie quietly enough that your ears didn’t pick up the sound of his voice and, as you're about to step outside to throw the trash bag out, you feel a hand on your shoulder. A cold, gloved hand that you could recognize anywhere with your eyes closed. You halt your movements as the (not so) mysterious figure behind you stays silent, waiting for you to say something first. 

Your shoulders slump forward in defeat, and you sniffle. “I don’t wanna be locked up in your room again,” you say quietly, voice slightly slurred from your cold. He scoffs, his hand squeezing your shoulder gently enough for it to be comforting. “Maybe if you didn’t try to go outside while having a cold I would reevaluate your options,” he sighs. “Alas, you leave me no choice. What were you thinking?” Dottore turns you around and frowns, tilting his head to the side. If you were anyone else you would have been dead where you stood, but here you are; wearing one of his old shirts and a loose pair of sweatpants, one of your hands gripping a trash bag, and the other wiping your nose. You stand awkwardly, looking away sheepishly, not particularly enjoying being caught red-handed like this. 

“It would be unhygienic to keep all of those used tissues in my room,” you respond with a nonchalant shrug. He holds back the urge to sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose, mask lifting just a tad from the action, and exhales slowly. You would be the death of him eventually, he thought tiredly. 

Dottore bends down low enough to grab the bag from your hands and looks over his shoulder, tossing it to a poor unsuspecting fatui soldier. The soldier in question stumbles back slightly, just barely keeping themselves from tripping over, as Dottore signals for them to throw it away themselves. You don’t have the time to speak up before the person scurries away. 

“Next time don’t be so obvious,” he says quietly enough that only you can hear him. He bends his torso forward slightly, holding his face leveled with yours. “And next time you decide to get sick,” he begins with a raspy tone, holding your chin up with his palm, “come to me immediately. Lest you want me to wrestle you into my room again.” 

You’d be blushing if you didn’t know what was going to happen. Dottore straightens his back and outstretches his hand to you, looking at you from below his mask. Defeated, you interlace your fingers with his and jut your lip out as you hold back the urge to whine. A small smile graces his face as he guides you back to the lab. 

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x reader #dottore x you #dottore x gn reader #il dottore x y/n #il dottore x you #il dottore x gn reader #il dottore x reader

[catscidr]

Dr ratio and student (adult) reader who tried really hard to study but she is kinda failing? 😭 I once had strict teacher like ratio and he was softer to me, so Idk if ratio would be the same or even more mean

this is a little different from what you asked. BUT. i Do think that he wouldn't be mean n would help u study because it means you're trying to not be an idiot and his whole shtick is trying to make people less dumb. ykwim. i might've projected a littol bit... times r tough what can i say <(ㅍ _ㅍ)> cw: blurb/headcanon format (?), hurt/comfort technically because ratio is a little mean. it's not that bad tho trust, university setting includes: gn!student!reader, professor!veritas ratio, can be read as either platonic or romantic (or favoritism lmao) wc: 1k

-ˋˏ I think he would be pretty frustrated at first. How come all your studying did little to nothing to change your less-than-ideal grades? Especially when he’s the one teaching you, at this point it’s an insult to him and his teaching skills! 

-ˋˏ ...but when you showed up to his office with your lips curled down in deep a frown, downturned brows and meek eyes that refused to meet his gaze for more than three seconds and reflected just how embarrassed (and almost ashamed) you were, he could only sigh and wave his hand to gesture for you to come in. 

-ˋˏ You took out your textbook, your notes and the study guide he had made specifically for the final exam. They felt heavier in your hands than they usually do, since now he could very well take a single look at your messy, scribbled notes and turn you away for “wasting his time” like you’ve seen him do with other struggling students. You couldn’t afford failing this exam though, so you place down your things on his (now cleared) desk and sit at the edge of the chair he had across of him, silently praying to whatever god to grant you some mercy. 

-ˋˏ His first reaction was... not good, for lack of better words. Your notes were a mess and there were splotches of black all over about five pages— the result of an unfortunate accident where your pen exploded in your hands during an all-nighter. He was tempted to turn you away or to, at the very least, scold you for being so disorganized, but he wouldn’t be the infamous Doctor Veritas Ratio if he did. One look at you and he could tell that you hadn’t slept properly in God-knows how long, that you hadn’t eaten a proper meal in just as long, and that you had the drive to study, but for a reason unknown to you, simply couldn’t. Or, at least not in a way that made you retain the information you tried to hammer into your brain. 

-ˋˏ You'd sit there; hands folded in your lap, eyes refusing to meet his, silently waiting for him to say something, anything lest you implode on the spot. Ratio would gloss over your notes, eyes lingering on the little doodles of yourself you drew in the margins of the page with a little speech bubble saying ‘help’ right above it, and would hold in a sigh. Crossing his arms over his chest he would lean back in his chair and tilt his head, burning holes in your skull until you lifted your head up. He wouldn’t say a word, he’d be as patient as he needed to be, waiting. 

-ˋˏ When you finally looked over at him you swore you felt your heart drop to your ass (how long had he been staring?) as you forced yourself to not grab your stuff and dip. “Um-” you started speaking but he promptly shut you up by interrupting you with a question of his own; “Do you honestly think you can study adequately in such conditions?”  

-ˋˏ (Of course he’d notice, you scold yourself internally. There’s no way to successfully hide the dark circles under my eyes.) 

-ˋˏ You’re taking way too long to answer, too absorbed into your head to speak, and it’s starting to get under his skin. His frown seems embedded onto his face, the absence of his plaster head making you quiver in fear from the sheer amount of frustration he must feel because of you. Unfortunately, you’re nowhere near as observant as he is— because if you were, you would have noticed that his frustration wasn’t aimed at you, but at himself. How did he let it get this bad? He’s supposed to be a teacher, and teachers are supposed to care for their pupils

-ˋˏ (It might seem like he couldn’t give two shits about his students, but he does care— in his own harsh way. He considers kicking people out of his class a blessing; if he didn’t care about their wellbeing, he would have let them stay and feel stupid as well as let them be completely overwhelmed as a result of not understanding the content of his lessons and the workload he assigns. Of course, he doesn’t want people to drop his class, but if that’s what it takes for people to not go insane then so be it. He’s made peace with it.) 

-ˋˏ “When was the last time you were able to sleep for longer than eight hours consecutively?” he asks, intense gaze unfaltering as your eyes dart all over his office in a poor attempt at avoiding the inevitable. Finally, you look at him sheepishly, and mumble a number that was far from satisfactory in his books. He clicks his tongue and unfurls his arms, grabbing your books strewn across his desk and shuts them, sliding them over towards you. You sit, puzzled and flustered that you’ve gone all this way just for him to kick you out. If he was going to be an ass, he should have just dismissed you as soon as— 

-ˋˏ “Your assignment is to get a good night’s rest. Do not come into my classroom if you haven’t slept for 8 hours minimum. If I see you work dark circles as prominent as the ones you have right now, I’ll drag you to the nearest bed or couch myself.” 

...Can’t say you expected that kind of response. 

-ˋˏ You can’t even get a word in before he beats you to it, already knowing what you were about to say. “I’ll let you retake the exam if I deem your health to be unacceptable when you arrive in the lecture hall for the exam.” You shut your mouth, unsure of what to even say in response. You really felt like you were being scolded. 

-ˋˏ He would gladly help you study when you come back looking (and feeling) refreshed, though. Not that he’d show it with his body language, but his actions said everything. He’d bring energy bars for you to snack on while he explained material you struggled with, would be patient when you’d ask seemingly dumb questions (one time you asked him why he hadn’t kicked you out of his class yet, and that was the first time he actually scolded you. Because that was the first dumb question you asked him). 

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dr ratio x reader #dr ratio x y/n #dr ratio x you #veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio x you

[catscidr]

Can you make a scenario with obedient reader who is getting experimented on by Dottore please ☺️

nonnie i started writing this at 1 in the morning yesterday because i couldn't stop thinking about it and i may or may not have gone over my self imposed word limit. however....... hot doctor. so. hope u enjoy because ik i sure as hell did ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: dottore being just a biiit creepy, slightly suggestive (?), normal tension + sexual tension asgnfns includes: fem!reader, dottore wc: 1,9k

“Stick your tongue out.” 

Dottore places his gloved thumb on your tongue, knocking you out of your daze.  

As per your routine, the doctor performs a quick, partial check-up to assess your physical state before diving right into his scheduled experiments. What he had planned you never knew; such was the joy of being one of the second Harbinger’s playthings. 

He gazes into your mouth with an almost bored expression as he looks for anything out of the ordinary. Being so close to his face, you could feel the warmth of his breath tickling your cheeks and the sharp point of his mask just barely grazing your jaw. When finally satisfied, Dottore mumbles something about nothing that’ll skew the test results and pulls his hand back, wiping your saliva off on his coat. You shut your jaw and look at him expectantly, waiting. 

He turns his back to you and rummages through a drawer, taking out an assortment of what appears to be wires coming out of a small rectangular box with even more wires sticking out of that. You glance at the machine and then back up at Dottore, a question burning on your tongue that he answers before you get the chance to voice it out loud. 

“This right here,” he sets the machine down on the table and plugs some cables into his laptop, “is a polygraph. Do you know what it is?” he asks with the ghost of a smile, hands buried in his pristine lab coat. You nod silently. 

“A lie detector,” the doctor says, disregarding your answer. He takes out a vial from his pockets and brings it up to the fluorescent lights on the ceiling, observing how the liquid shone at the right angle. Letting his arm fall to his side, he takes a few steps around the table and towards the chair you’re sitting in, bending down to your height. 

“Do you know what this is?” 

He brings his hand up to show you the vial in question. A purple, slightly translucent solution that came halfway up the thin glass, shut tightly with the help of a small cork seal. You already knew what you had to do with it, but not what the liquid itself did. Slowly, you shake your head and tear your gaze away from the liquid, looking back up at the man in front of you. His expression doesn’t change for a second, observing your own carefully. 

“Simply put, it’s a truth serum. Anyone that drinks this will find that they will be rendered unable to lie. Of course, the serum itself is still being tested, which is precisely why you’re here,” he says, his smile growing just slightly. You part your lips, hesitant to speak. 

“So, you... want me to drink the potion and then take a lie detector test to verify whether it worked or not?” you ask with a small glimmer of hope in your eyes. The doctor nods curtly, his expression unwavering. You internalize a sigh; looks like you lucked out today and won’t have to endure any physical torture this time around. 

“Now drink,” he says, emphasizing the order by taking out the cork top with a quiet pop, bringing the vial up to your lips. Your hand reaches up to grab the glass but right as you reach it, Dottore uses his free hand to swat your hand away. You tear your gaze away from the serum and look up at the doctor- his expression flat, lips devoid of the small smile that was previously on his face. He pushes the vial closer to you, the edge of the tube pressing against the plush of your lips, forcing you to tilt your head back ever so slightly. 

“Drink,” he repeats, his deep voice rumbling your nerves. 

You part your lips and tilt your head back even more, allowing the Harbinger the space to push the vial past your lips. Your throat bobbed as soon as the serum made its way down, Dottore’s stare unwavering from your face. The purple serum slid down smoothly; the lack of any discernable taste only being slightly unnerving, all things considered. 

Dottore stares at you long enough for you to start becoming nervous by his presence. However, as soon as your pulse quickens, he leans back and puts an acceptable distance between the two of you as he puts away the, now empty, vial back in his coat pocket. 

“How do you feel?” 

That makes you pause. How did you feel? Nervous, anxious? Awkward, even? The answer was an obvious all of the above. However, this was in response to Dottore’s unusual closeness, not in result of the serum changing your body in any way, shape or form. In fact, you didn’t really feel anything other than your heart racing in your ribcage. You felt strangely normal, which only fueled the slight agitation boiling in the pit of your stomach; feeling anything less than discomfort when subjected to Dottore’s experiments was nothing short of unusual. But, knowing he couldn’t care less for an answer that doesn't regard the effects of the serum, you keep your thoughts to yourself. 

“I feel fine,” you say as normally as you could. Dottore narrows his eyes, observing your behavior with interest, but doesn’t push further. 

He directs his attention back to the polygraph on the table, wires hanging loosely off the side of the surface. Grabbing the four cables, he peels off the protective film off from the sticky sides and sticks two cables on your temples and one on your wrist. Holding the last cable, he looks down at you with an unreadable expression. 

“Tilt your head back for me,” he says quietly, voice unassuming. 

You do as he says and, as soon as your throat is revealed, Dottore plunges his hand into your shirt. He sticks the last cable to the top of your left breast, fingers grazing the plush skin for a moment before he retracts his hand and rounds the corner of the table. Your heart pounds in your ribcage, your poor, weak mind reeling at how physical he seemed to be getting despite the psychological nature of the experiment. He makes no further comment as he opens his laptop and does whatever it is he needs to do in order to start the test. 

“Keep staring at the wall. I’m going to be asking you a series of questions. You are to answer with the first thing that comes to your mind, in the most natural way possible. Understood?” Dottore says rigidly. You nod quickly, replying with a quiet yes, sir. 

“Then let’s begin. What is your name?” he asks, leaning his chin into his palm. 

You tell him your name which, obviously, doesn’t make the lie detector go off. He nods and continues, asking questions that range from “where are you from”, “when is your birthday” and “how tall are you”. 

However, the more he speaks, the more his questions become increasingly... risky to answer. 

“What do you think of my experiments?” 

Holding your tongue, you mull it over for a moment. Even though you knew that no matter what you intended to say wouldn’t matter, that you’d just tell the truth no matter what, you wanted to think carefully either way. After a moment you part your lips, still staring at the wall like he instructed at the start, and speak. 

“Sometimes they can be painful, but I know you’re doing what’s best for me and... everyone else.” You felt the way your hands clammed up from sweat, the plastic chair becoming increasingly uncomfortable for you to sit in without shifting your weight. Dottore looks at the screen of his laptop and grins, his gaze finding your tense figure once again. 

“What do you think of me?” he asks, and even though you can’t see his expression, you could hear the smirk in his voice. 

You respond without allowing yourself to stress over what your truth is. 

“I think you have a strong work ethic, and I... admire you for it.” 

His lips stretch into a wide, uncharacteristic smile. Dottore stays quiet, stalling for the next question to let you simmer with what you just said. He shifts his position on the table, leaning forward over the computer with both hands clasped in front of him. 

“And what do you think of me, not as a Harbinger but as a simple, regular man?” he asks coyly, his mask hiding the way his crimson eyes pierced a path into your side profile. 

“That you’re attractive,” you blurt out, head tilting to the side away from him to hide the way your cheeks immediately warmed up. The doctor scoffs, amused by the sheepish display merely a few feet in front of him. 

“Hm. Good,” he hums to himself, straightening his back to lean into the chair he sat on. “Look at me,” he orders firmly. 

Not even giving yourself the time to process his words, you automatically turn your head to look at your captor. The sight of his pleased, seemingly innocent smile made your heart flutter. He grabs the side of his laptop and turns it around so you can look at the... blank screen?  

Before you can question what exactly it is you were looking at, Dottore speaks up. 

“I wasn’t tracking your answers. I lied to you. What did you say you felt after drinking the serum?” he asks with a tilt of his head, amusement clear on his face. You freeze, brows raising ever so slightly as the cogs turn in your head. 

“Nothing...?” you murmur quietly, slowly understanding what he meant. 

“Nothing, because you just drank water. With a dash of food coloring, sure, but water nonetheless.” 

“Ah.” 

Looking at his intricate mask then back down at the blank laptop screen, you felt yourself become increasingly embarrassed the longer the silence between you two stretched out. Dottore chuckles heartily, the sound revibrating in the small room as he stood up to loom over your figure. 

“Technically, you could still call this an experiment. What if you did lie? There’s a possibility you did since nothing forced you to tell the truth. However, I know you wouldn’t.” 

He leans down to your height, a gloved hand coming up to tilt your head back, holding your chin with his thumb and forefinger. 

“You’re always so good to me, you know. So obedient, compliant and malleable,” he sighs, a soft and eerie smile on his face. “My favorite test subject,” he whispers. 

Glued in place, you do nothing aside from staring up at him with wide doe eyes, your cheeks flushed as a result from the attention he gave you. 

“What a good girl you are,” he mumbles to himself, but still loud enough that you can hear. The doctor was so close that you could just barely feel the warmth of his body against you aside from his hand holding you still, his lips ghosting over your own. 

With a chuckle, Dottore straightens his back and looks down at you with a knowing smirk, acutely aware of the effect he had on you. He hums, faking being lost in his thoughts, conscious that you sat there, waiting, silently begging for more. 

“How about a reward, then?” he suggests in a low voice. “Prove yourself to me, prove that you spoke nothing but the truth, and I’ll reward you handsomely.” Dottore tilts his head in a way that can only be described as condescending, smiling at your bashfulness. Slowly, he takes off the wire stuck to your body, his hand lingering beneath your shirt, over the cable stuck to your chest. 

“I’m sure you’d enjoy that, my pretty test subject.” 

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x fem!reader #dottore x afab reader

[catscidr]

hi.. hello... may I request a dottore fic w/chronically ill reader? chronically ill as in, can't get enough sleep due to pain, doesn't clean themselves/shower, or doesn't eat a lot due to the pain and loss of appetite.

this part is a bit self indulgent but maybe reader can't walk properly due to it and needs assistance by dottore (or his segments) to hold her hand and let her cling onto them as they walk?

absolutely understandable if not! hope you have a good day :) 🕊

yes!! absolutely!! (included this other ask too bc i felt they were similar enough) im sorry i disappeared for a bit, life happened and this and that and i didn't have time to write and when i did i just.... couldn't write LOLヽ(；▽；) i don't have a chronic illness so i did my best with what i had (google and my own experiences with body pains n stuff(?) ) so pls lmk if there's like. any wording i should change and whatnot. big smoochies to u nonnie i hope this makes you feel at least a little better ♡♡ ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: a whole lotta fluff, established relationship, dottore is probably a little ooc bc he's very soft, him and The Clones are doting on reader HARD. reader is shorter than the men includes: fem reader, dottore and his segments (Omega is the oldest, Delta is webttore, Iota is the youngest), Columbina is mentioned, fatui npcs are also mentioned wc: 2,3k

The doctor was infamous for being cruel, aloof and barbaric. From his experiments to his way of treating his coworkers, practically everyone that worked in the Fatui wanted nothing to do with him, since even if they happened to not get on his bad side, even being associated with him meant other members of the organization would look at them funny. The only people the Harbinger spoke to daily, apart from you, were his many segments. 

The same couldn’t be said for you though. When you could, you’d spend time with Viktor or Ekaterina whenever they were in Snezhnaya, hang out with Damselette when she was free or simply just make small talk with anyone willing to stop by for a chat. Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to enjoy other people’s presence since your body’s been feeling quite sluggish as of late, exhaustion seeping into your limbs much quicker than it should. Your predicament made it so that you were confined to the four walls of your room most days, human interaction being limited to Dottore and his clones. 

Not that you particularly minded, since they were an entertaining bunch. Dottore took care of you most of the time, but since his job was quite demanding, he couldn’t be there for you all the time. Which is where his segments came in. 

“The soup isn’t that hot, and I already blew on it! Just eat already,” Delta grumbles loudly, his patience wearing thin as it made way for aggressive worry to take place. You stick your tongue out at him, a tired and petty act of rebellion despite your situation. 

“I dare you to take a sip. For sure it’ll be able to melt your mechanic tongue right off,” you huff in annoyance, both from the minimal hours of sleep you’d been getting and your own patience coming to an end. The man makes a tsk sound, torn between wanting to prove you wrong by humoring your suggestion or wanting to just grab an ice cube and tossing it in the bowl in malicious compliance. He doesn’t have time to decide though, because two people come into your room right as he opened his mouth to reply. 

“Prime told me to check in on you,” Omega says as he breaches the doorframe. “You’re taking too long.” he adds, crossing his arms. The older segment stares down at his maskless coworker, lips curling down in a frown. Delta scowls, readjusting himself on your bed- he was sitting to your right, his legs thrown over the side of the bed. He glances over his shoulder at the interruption, scowl now much more genuine as he glares daggers at the older segment. 

“I would have been back a long time ago if someone,” he doesn’t hide the way his eyes glance over at your sulking form, “had cooperated with me.” Still holding up the spoon he had tried to feed you previously, he lowers it into the bowl while gesturing for Omega to come closer. The latter walks over to the bed calmly while Iota saunters over to your left side, chatting up a storm about how he’s missed you and asking when you’ll be joining them back in the lab again. 

“Maybe if you knew how to speak to women,” the oldest taunts, lips curling into a small grin, the only feature visible on his masked face. You giggle as Delta bites back an insult, purposely ignoring his superior to instead try to make you get something in your system one more time. 

“Where’s Dottore?” you ask the Omega segment, turning your face away from Delta. The latter glares at you, handing over the bowl of soup to the other man. Iota suggests feeding you but is quickly dismissed by the other two, much to his dismay. 

“Busy. Although he said he would come by to test something, if I recall correctly... didn’t mention what it was, though,” the masked segment says, blowing on a spoonful of soup to cool it off. You nod, eating the spoonful when Omega presents it to you, earning a look of disbelief from Delta. “How are you feeling today?” the oldest asks, tuning out Delta’s many choice words aimed at him. You do the same, focused on eating and taking your time swallowing the food so as to not upset your already sensitive stomach. 

“Could be better,” you respond with a sigh. “I feel pain... everywhere. And I’m tired but I can’t sleep,” you add between spoonfuls. Omega nods, letting you rant as he silently listens to you while subtly observing the way your chest heaves up and down, as if your lungs were working overtime to accommodate to an elevated heart rate. 

He hums, dipping the spoon in the bowl to feed you again. You shake your head at him and put a hand up in front of your mouth, your brows creasing your forehead. The clone doesn’t push further and instead hands Iota the unfinished bowl of food, quietly asking for him to put it away. The young boy nods eagerly, happy to be of use as he scurries away. Delta follows after him to make sure he doesn’t break anything, but glances behind his shoulder to take one last look at you, worry obvious on his usually irked face. 

“How long has it been since Prime has last given your previous dose of aspirin?” he asks, leaning closer to you to push your hair out of your face. Expression scrunched up in discomfort from the sudden food intake, you make a noise of discontentment, a vague answer to his question. He frowns but doesn’t voice his displeasure aloud, instead comforting you through your nausea. Noticing pearls of sweat beading up on your hairline, Omega pulls your bed sheets away slightly, making you more comfortable. 

“Can you try swallowing for me?” he asks gently, tilting his head forward and to the side to look at your throat. It takes you a hot second but after some struggle you do as he instructed and swallow, your throat bobbing up as you do, and the segment hums in satisfaction. “Good,” he murmurs quietly, placing one hand on your shoulder to help you straighten your back. 

“Let me help you up. Hold onto my hand for me?” Omega asks, helping you slip out of bed, putting a strong arm under yours to help you stand up. You wordlessly interlock your fingers into his own and wobble slightly, knees weak and devoid of strength, but he holds you up, bending his own knees slightly to accommodate your height. The wave of nausea comes and goes, making your legs unsteady as the clone helps you walk towards the bathroom connected to your bedroom. 

Delta comes back without Iota in tow and immediately notices your discomfort. His legs work faster than his mind and he’s to your left in the blink of an eye, supporting your weight as well to help you and Omega out. The three of you reach the sink counter and as the oldest helps you sit up on it, Delta squints at his fellow clone. 

“Can one of you get my bucket,” you manage to croak out between deep breaths, head slumped forward to rest against Omega’s shoulder. While he rubs soothing circles on your back Delta quickly grabs the bucket you kept in your room, footsteps as silent as he could as to not disturb you. You murmur a quiet thank you to him, sitting up to the best of your ability as you shoot him a grateful smile. 

“Are you feeling well enough to bathe or are you still lightheaded?” Omega asks, one of his gloved hands coming up to your forehead. He feels some heat seep through the leather fabric but waits for your answer nonetheless, crimson eyes covered by his mask staring into you. You nod, leaning into the coolness of his hand. 

“Mmhyeah, jus’ help me out a bit,” you mumble sleepily, exhaustion taking over your nausea. Delta doesn't need to be told twice as he turns on the tap to fill up the bath, keeping a hand beneath it to make the sound of water splashing in the tub quieter to avoid bothering you. 

✧✧✧   

With a towel resting over your head and newfound energy flowing through your limbs, you saunter into your partner’s main lab to find him. Omega had left shortly after you finished bathing, begrudgingly telling you that he had to go back to work- but Delta stayed with you long enough to keep you company while you let your eyes rest. He gave you some painkillers- nothing like what Dottore gave you to keep the pain at bay, but it worked as a temporary solution- and you felt energized enough to leave your bedroom to get ahold of Dottore. 

Delta walked behind you, not wanting to go back to the laboratory just yet but the last thing he wanted was to leave you alone, his mind working up a multitude of scenarios in which you’d get hurt. Although he was all bark and no bite, he still cared about you immensely- more than he’d ever admit. He watches your hair drip water onto the pristine white tiles as you walk and steps on the water with his boots, smudging the liquid to wipe it away. 

“Dottore!” you exclaim happily, eyes lighting up when you finally catch sight of the familiar mop of blue hair paired with his matching tired eyes and scarred skin adorning his face. The Harbinger looks up from his work, eyes displaying a mix of surprise and something akin to irritation- a result from catching him off guard. 

“Darling,” he says softly, quietly enough that you barely catch the loving nickname slipping past his chapped lips. “Did you eat?” he asks, brushing the dirt off his hands on his slacks. You engulf his torso in a warm hug, immediately comforted by the familiar faint scent of his cologne and whatever cleaning supply he used in his lab. He returns the hug gently and Delta looks away immediately, flustered at the sight of his boss being publicly affectionate. 

You respond with a muffled mhm, refusing to pull away. “Didn’t eat much but it was something. Omega ‘n Delta helped me bathe. Took something for the pain. Now I’m here,” you summarize, face still smushed against him. He hums in approval, but concern still creases his brows as he uses one of his hands to rub up your back and the other to dry off your hair completely using the towel on your head. Delta murmurs an excuse before leaving the premises, not able to withstand the pda. 

“You shouldn’t be out of bed,” he says sternly but softly. “I’m working on something that’ll help you in the long run, it’ll do you good to allow your body to recuperate as much as it can. Have you been sleeping alright?” 

You slump against him. Of course he’d notice how tired you were even if he couldn’t see your face. 

“...No,” you mumble. He doesn’t respond, but you feel his head moving as he looks around his workspace, seemingly looking for something. He lets out a quiet aha when he does and he brings his arms down to your shoulders to push you away. 

“I have something you can take to help you sleep. You shouldn’t feel nauseous nor dizzy when you take it as well,” Dottore says, immediately talking about the possible complications before you can even open your mouth to refuse his offer. “I tested it out myself,” he adds, lips curling into a small smile when he sees your face change from a pout to bewilderment. 

“You? The great Dottore, ex-scholar of the Akademiya, willingly taking medication to make him sleep? You never get rest, and you expect me to believe you when you talk about sleeping medication?” you say with an amused scoff. Dottore raises a brow at your teasing but doesn’t comment on it, instead he chooses to brush his pointer finger’s knuckle beneath your eyes. 

“You should believe me because I never get rest, my love,” he says fondly. “And because your dark circles are so prominent, I could probably see them from the other side of the laboratory.” he adds. You huff but lean into his touch, eyes drooping from the burst of energy catching up on your body. You hear him chuckle under his breath as he shifts his body to grab the medication in question and a syringe with a sterilized needle, preparing the equipment to administer it to you. 

“If you get an adequate amount of rest, I’ll take two days off work to take care of you properly. How does that sound?” he asks lightly, flicking the syringe to let out any air bubbles out. You look away with furrowed brows and roll your eyes, but still give him your arm. 

“Now you’re just trying to bait me,” you say, looking at him from the corner of your eyes. He shrugs, not arguing with your accusation because you were technically right. When he’s done with the syringe you feel his arms wrap around you, the warmth of his body making you sigh pleasantly. 

You can’t tell what it is that makes your body grow so incredibly tired so suddenly; if it was the medication, the strain on your body or if it was because you just felt that comfortable in Dottore’s arms, but you didn’t really care. As you felt Dottore move you to one of his couches, you reach out to grab onto his sleeve to keep him nearby. 

He complies, crouching to be at your level as you crack your eyes open to look at him. You murmur a quiet love you and shut your eyes contentedly, smiling softly once you feel his lips make contact with your forehead as you hear him clearly say I love you too back. 

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x fem!reader #dottore x afab reader #il dottore x you #il dottore x reader #uuauaoaoaoghghhh i love soft dottore #IM WRITING THE ASKS IN MY INBOX I SWEAR

[catscidr]

Imagine Yandere Dottore x puppet like reader 🤭

i got carried away (again) im sorry lmaogsnfs(ɾ⚈▿⚈)ɹ this isnt as yandere as u would expect it to be for a dottore post bc i love me some good slow burn and character development but its fine its still dottore ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: dottore tinkers with reader's inner stuff (literally), he gets weird about it includes: gn!reader, dottore, pantalone and dottore's clones mentionned for like a second wc: 1,5k

You and Dottore had a simple routine; once a week, he would fix you up from whatever had happened to your body and mechanical system from adventuring in the past seven days and, in exchange, you would let him look and poke around your intricate mechanisms so he could learn more about machines and artificial life in Teyvat. He was, first and foremost, a scholar after all. 

However, he’s been getting a little more handsy and has seemed almost... worried the last two times you came back from your trips. 

...Worried in his own way, of course. 

The doctor wasn’t afraid to make you uncomfortable and, when he found a particularly harmful anomaly in your body, he could be even more insufferable. Nothing that you couldn’t handle- being mostly made up of elemental energy and cables gave you a pretty resistant body- so his change in attitude only irritated you more than it hurt. His hands, usually covered by surgical gloves, would lack the latex material to move aside your plates, leaving fingerprints all over the sides and corners. You voiced your annoyance with his behavior but, in normal Il Dottore fashion, he simply disregarded your complaints. 

Today was no exception; you had just come back from a trip in Liyue, exploring the depths of the Chasm and underground mines, and came back to his lab covered in that gross, dark goo. You weren’t experiencing any side effects from the substance thankfully, still, the doctor argued that there had to be something wrong somewhere. The dirt stuck to your clothes and had no intentions of coming off when you rubbed at it (you considered bugging the Regrator to pay for a new outfit because there was no way you were going to lose your hard-earned mora just because a hilichurl decided to fling a handful of that filthy mud at you), but that was the extent of your problems. You kept insisting to the doctor that you were fine, that you just needed a good, long, scalding hot shower to scrape the dirt off of your artificial skin, but he just wouldn’t let it go. 

You had taken off your overcoat, the extra layer being in the way of his handiwork and had tossed it somewhere on his desk in petty revenge. He paid no mind to the small mess you made of his workspace, his attention purely on you- or rather, his attention purely on a stubborn stain on the bottom of your neck, trickling down to your collarbone, stopping right before your inner layer of clothes. Right where that damn hilichurl had struck you. 

“Do I need to send a segment with you every time you go out or will you stop putting yourself in situations where you get all fucked up and have to crawl back to me?” he grumbles dramatically under his breath, loudly enough for you to hear. Purposely. 

With your head thrown back, tilted away from him to allow him the space to open up your neck panel to clean your inside system from the goo that had seeped through the cracks, you can do nothing but groan in annoyance, done with his passive aggressive comments demeaning your competency. 

“You keep saying that, but I doubt you or your clones would be able to keep up with me. All you ever do is stay holed up in your lab. How would a hermit possibly be of help to me?” you huff, staring up at the ceiling.  

Suddenly, you feel your hand clench and twitch repeatedly and you wince in discomfort. Glancing down, you see Dottore’s unamused and irritated gaze boring into you as he pinches the wire in your mechanism responsible for hand movement, a silent threat for you to tone down your attitude. 

“What? It’s true!” you double down stubbornly, smacking his fingers away from you with your free hand. He scoffs, irritated, but doesn’t respond. He had better things to do than to prove himself to you, anyways. While he sulks, you bring your (previously twitching) hand up to the light, rolling your wrist and wriggling your fingers to make sure he didn’t damage anything. 

“Next time I’ll just ask one of your clones to patch me up if you’re so pissed that I come see you when I get back from my trips,” you scoff, placing both hands flat on the vivisection table you were sitting on, leaning on them as you look at him with a raised brow. You can feel the tension radiating off of him, his jaw clenching as he straightens his back, looking (glaring) back at you. 

“Don't,” he says simply, taking a step towards you and bringing his hands back up to your throat to finish the job he had started earlier- getting rid of that pesky mud. 

You feel the atmosphere shift as clear as day. You may not be human, but you were pretty in-tune with emotions and how they worked; which was why you were even more confused as to why the Harbinger was acting this way. Tilting your head back to let him do what he was doing just a few minutes ago, you break the tense silence. 

“Then stop being on my case,” you huff, closing your eyes to let him do what he had to do. You hear him hum in response and hold back the urge to scoff at him and his childish antics. 

Dottore diligently and silently cleans the crevices of your neck and throat, nimble fingers fixing damaged wires and placing things back where they should be so everything is in order once more. With his usual mask absent, his face was impossibly close to your throat, almost inside of your puppet body as he studied how you worked. Instead of blood flowing through veins and creating a pulse, you had electro energy flowing through you, mimicking the veins you lacked. When you inhaled, a weak wave of energy would flow up the left side of your body, and when you exhaled it would go back down, and rinse and repeat. Dottore watched the process, pensive, while you stared at nothing, bored out of your mind. 

“Are you done yet?” you ask quietly, legs itching to hop off the metal table. Dottore stays quiet for longer than usual, lost in thought. 

In a flash, he puts his entire hand beneath your chest from the opening in your neck. His fingers brush something rubber-y in texture, digging deeper between your chest plate and the mess of cables mimicking a spine. You make a garbled noise of surprise, roughly pulled out of your thoughts and yank his hand out, face flushed with embarrassment and something akin to fury (but not quite). 

“What the fuck was that?!” you hiss, hand still holding his wrist firmly. Dottore watches the way his hand prickles with electro as it fades in the air, his eyebrows furrowed and expression indecipherable. Crimson eyes flicker back up to meet yours. You can't help the shudder that passes through your body, swallowing a lump in your throat nervously from the intensity of his gaze. 

“I wonder how your body would react if you were injected with hydro energy,” he murmurs to himself, still staring right at you. “Would you let me find out?” he asks, voice slightly louder than before. 

“Would you let me do more than just observe your inner machinery?” he asks. The Harbinger takes a step forward. 

“Would you let me toy with you?” 

Dottore, now staring down at your sat figure, carried an aura you couldn’t decipher. With his body blocking the overhead lighting, it almost looked like his hair was reflecting the buzzing fluorescent lights of his lab, icy hair surrounding his head like a gentle halo. You feel your mouth get dry, rendered unable to respond. 

“Only come to me. I’ll learn how your body works, inside and out. No one is to see you like this,” he whispers, face eerily still. “Not even my segments. I’ll behead them in front of you if need be.” 

Dottore held his face mere inches away from yours, his ragged breath tickling your cheeks as it made the stray strands of hair flutter. Your eyes never left his, not even when he brought one hand up to your face, sliding across your cheek to tangle itself into your hair while his other hand glid across the cables inside your chest cavity in uncharacteristic fondness. Though his fingers were gentle and soft, his eyes didn’t betray the flicker of something sinful. 

“Would you like that? To be able to study their innards,” he says in a sickly-sweet tone. You study his face; his eyes, usually swimming with irritation and contempt, held a hint of something akin to devotion. 

“Let me study yours. Let me pull you apart completely and then put you back together. I’m not satisfied with simply looking anymore,” he hisses, eyes widening. “I want to mark you from the inside. So let me.” 

You couldn’t find the will to protest. 

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x gn reader

[catscidr]

HIIII CAN I GET DOTTORE(WEBTOON VER) X READER (fluff if u want) PLS..... where ur his assistant (besides krupp, like reader and krupp are both his assistant) and he so clearly has favoritism towards reader, bro is SMITTEN. have a good day... :D

this is sorta taking place right when the manga starts, right before dottore and the gang have a meeting about fatui stuff n all. also spoilers for the manga kinda if u haven't read it already?? i threw krupp under the bus a lot but its to make up for the fact that he’s alive in this lmaoa sry to any krupp lovers out there (′ʘ⌄ʘ‵) also there’s a lot of buildup n world building kinda im sorry i got in the zone HAHA ALSO MB THIS TOOK A WHILE TO WRITE i was drowning in leftover dessert from the holidays and was in a food coma for a couple o days. forgive me nonnie but u can get ur food now ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: reader is overwhelmed, not proofread i just went ham. not too much dialogue it's mostly unspoken bc webttore is an "actions > words" kinda man includes: fem reader, webttore, krupp, diluc mentionned wc: 1,7k

The mission was a complete and utter disaster. 

All three of you were supposed to attend the Ragnvindr ball with a simple goal; blend in as much as possible, gather intel on the Knights of Favonius and leave without a hitch. Of course, that wasn’t an easy task considering Dottore’s eccentric and unpredictable personality and Krupp being a thorn in your side at best. 

Things started going downhill before you had even left your private quarters. While you were getting ready, carefully blinking as you brushed your mascara into your lashes to blend them in with your fake ones, you were startled by a loud, quick series of knocks on your door, making you smudge the dark pigment on your eyelid. Seeing the look on your face, Krupp had apologized (halfheartedly) before leaving you to your devices, seemingly forgetting why he had even interrupted you in the first place. You tried to convince yourself that it was fine, it was an easy fix anyways- but you couldn’t help but get irritated by your coworker’s behaviour at the very least. 

The next accident happened when the three of you had stepped out of the carriage in front of the Ragnvindr mansion. Masquerading as Dottore’s concubine, he held your hand to help you out of the caravan. That in it of itself was fine; the texture of his velvet glove was nice, the warmth emanating from his hand was even nicer and you swore you saw his face soften at the sight of you carefully stepping down the singular stair, leg jutting out as you balanced yourself on the cobblestone path on your heels. But Krupp just had to step on the back of your dress, a brown footprint now adorning the periwinkle frilly trail of your gown. The only good thing that came out of it was Dottore moving his hand to your waist and swiveling you to his side, fixing his assistant with a hard glare that could kill. 

Then, after you had gotten most of the dirt out of your dress (with the help of a kind butler), your trio stepped into the venue, splitting into two groups. Krupp would blend in with a group of nobles whereas you and Dottore, arms linked together, would speak to people in the Knights directly. Eyeing your coworker in the crowd, you saw him courteously kiss the back of a noblewoman’s hand; despite the slight look of disgust crossing your face, he seemed to be doing well with the mission. 

However, it seemed that whatever Archon was watching over you then didn’t appreciate the lack of drama. As Dottore introduced the both of you to a platinum-haired man, he had gotten his shoulder shoved by what had appeared to be a new hire from the manor (at least, you assumed so considering the way he had immediately gotten yelled at by a lady older than him). 

You yelped when the Harbinger spilled his drink all over the front of your dress, some champagne sliding down your chest leaving an uncomfortable, sticky feeling on your skin. Cheeks reddening from embarrassment and frustration, you brush away his frantic apology as you storm out, grabbing a handful of napkins on a nearby table while making your way to the closest bathroom. 

Thankfully it wasn’t hard to find, not with a maid offering to help you (she had gotten turned down but kindly pointed you in the right direction at the very least). Patting your skin dry, you burst into the surprisingly empty bathroom and assessed the damage. 

That’s where you are currently. 

Staring at the state of your previously pristine appearance you can’t help but tear up. Sure, this was just for a mission, and you could just wipe away the booze as much as you could and go back to do your job. But the one time you get to dress nice, the one time you can rid yourself of that ugly, stuffy uniform and feel pretty... had to be ruined by men. While it wasn’t exactly Dottore’s fault that he spilled his drink all over your dress, you still felt mad at Krupp for stepping on it when you all had first arrived. Was it petty to still be upset about it? Yes. Were your feelings justified? Also yes. 

Being the Doctor’s assistant was a chore. A challenge, sometimes. He was demanding, strict and you often had to walk on eggshells around him to avoid setting him off. Whenever it happened, he’d start ranting and raving about how incompetent everyone in the fatui was- although, he’d never point a finger at you, usually Krupp was on the receiving end of his bite (even if he wasn’t even included in the conversation). 

Knowing him well enough to understand his moods and personality had its perks. Unfortunately, it also had its drawbacks- those being how, naturally, your boss would also know how to read your mood surprisingly well. Dottore was known to be mean and ruthless to anyone he crossed path with, however, he’s always had a soft spot for you. 

Sometimes it was obvious that he did, but sometimes it was like he saw your coworker’s face instead of your own- scowling at your mistakes and scolding you harshly for mixing in the wrong powder in a flask. Whenever that happened, you could almost forget how he was able to hold you so gently, as if you were a glass sculpture ready to break if even the slightest breeze hit you. But if he were to be described with one word, you’d never call him dense- as entitled as he could be, the Harbinger was still (maybe surprisingly) quite well-versed in human emotions. 

You barely hear your name being called in the distance, muffled by the sound of the angelic piano and violin in the main area. Too caught up in your thoughts, you continue seething and aggressively rubbing away the sticky residue on your chest, muttering some choice words about your coworker and your boss. 

The door to the women’s bathroom flies open, revealing a frustrated but concerned Dottore, his curly hair a mess from how often he must have run his hand through it while he ran to find you. Uncaring of how he was intruding on your moment and how he was in the women’s restroom, he stomps over to you, gloved hands coming down to your shoulders as he closes the distance between you so he can look at the damage properly. 

He doesn’t speak for what felt like minutes, leaving your heart to pound in a mix of shock (who wouldn’t get scared at the sight of a Harbinger slamming a door open?) and nervousness. One of his hands come down to move your own that still held onto the (now damp) napkins as he stared at the front of your dress. 

The sweetheart cut of your dress was soaked, the edge and thin lace sticking to your skin, light indigo dye appearing darker because of the stain. Snapping out of your frozen stupor, you push his hand away and bring your hands back up to cover your chest, flustered from how hard he was staring with those blank, crimson eyes. 

“...You’re in the wrong bathroom,” you murmur, unsure of how to get him to leave you alone without possibly setting him off. Dottore’s eyes flicker up to your side profile, his expression still freakishly unreadable. 

You suddenly feel both of his hands on your cheeks as he manhandles you to look at him, your heart skipping a beat. Unable to bring yourself to stay mad, tears prick at your eyes, and you look down. Holding his gaze was impossible, not when you’ve been feeling humiliated since the start of the evening. He doesn’t comment on your sorrow, keeping on staring at you intently. 

“I can always buy you a new, nicer dress if that’s what you want,” you hear him say, voice uncharacteristically quiet, and maybe even... unsure? 

You shake your head softly, sniffling. 

“No? Why are you upset, then?” 

Hearing him so utterly confused, puzzled, perplexed made you even more frustrated. Furious, even. With your emotions all over the place and a newfound fury blazing in your limbs you snatch his hands off from your face and stomp out of the bathroom, shouting I’m waiting in the carriage! before stepping out into the chilly Mondstadtian evening breeze. 

Dottore stood there, brows furrowed and mouth agape in confusion as he blinked at your retreating figure. He didn’t have the chance to go after you because, as if on cue, Krupp interrupted the show. 

“I gathered some juicy intel, boss! Those Knights are incredibly foolish for being so loose lipped,” the mustached man declares proudly, acutely unaware of the stuffy atmosphere. Maybe not completely unaware, but he’s for sure ignoring it if he noticed it. Instead of hearing him out though, Dottore scoffs and walks into him, shoving him to the side with a scowl. 

“Don’t waste my time with your useless boasting. We’re leaving,” the Harbinger all but groaned, running a hand through his hair, stress emanating from him in waves. His assistant catches up to him, stuttering out a Of course sir! as he opens the door for him, his shoes digging into the cobblestone path. 

Dottore immediately looks at your sat figure, chin in your palm, looking out of the window. The sight would make him melt if it weren’t for his other assistant’s presence a mere meter away from him. He says your name quietly, softly enough that no one other than you can hear and Krupp steps into the carriage, shouting directions to the driver. 

“Can I stay in the lab next time?” you grumble, refusing to turn around and look at your boss and coworker. Krupp opens his mouth to scold you, but Dottore beats him to it, shooting him a sharp glare, lips curling down in a frown. 

“You can,” he answers you while still looking at his employee. “In fact, it’ll give me an opportunity to properly teach my other assistant some manners,” he adds, practically growling the sentence. Krupp swallows thickly and pretends to not be involved in the conversation, looking away nervously. On the opposite side of the plush seat, you hide the smile creeping its way onto your features.

Ignoring the way your heart swelled, you inwardly celebrate your small victory. Dottore could be brash and cruel, but you’ll always cherish the moments when he shows you some lenience. Especially when it’s at the cost of your coworker’s imprudence. 

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x fem!reader #anytime i think of webttore i just remember that one panel where he’s literally like ◉_◉ #thats what i had in mind when he was looking at reader’s dress in the bathroom lmaoaghfns #dottore x afab reader

[catscidr]

YANDERE DOTTORE X READER JAHEKWHZBAKNA

happy to see most dottore enjoyers sharing the same braincell. even happier to provide that good good dottore content (〃ﾉωﾉ) answering two asks in the same post bc it would be too repetitive if i made them separate agshfjns- next post will feature either childe or al haitham (depending on which one i finish first) (giving everyone a break from dottore for a hot sec) ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: yandere dottore (obvs), not quite proofread, dottore is named zandik in the mini-fic includes: gn!reader, dottore, his clones are kinda there, pierro and the tsaritsa are also mentionned. a handful of headcanons + a mini-fic wc: 1,8k

-ˋˏ Despite what most people might think, Dottore isn’t a sadistic man. He only hurts people if it’s necessary- if it helps with his research- and even then, it’s not like he enjoys inflicting pain, he enjoys the knowledge he gathers as a result of such experiments

-ˋˏ ...That doesn't apply with you though. He likes to see you squirm, to do things that make you react, whether positively or negatively. He’s that desperate and needy  

-ˋˏ He’s a man that doesn’t go out much because of his work. So how could you blame him for wanting your attention? 

-ˋˏ I think he’d be the type of yandere to just be incredibly obsessed with you. Always having someone checking in on you (his segments, of course) to report back to him so he knows what you’re doing at all times, probably the type to have an entire folder with your personal information in it as if you were one of his test subjects

-ˋˏ Not to mention he would be extremely manipulative, too. Dottore is the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing; a handsome face with dubious intentions. 

-ˋˏ He wants to have your attention 24/7, to never have you take your eyes off of him, but he can’t do that if he stays holed up in his lab. Unfortunately for him he's very clingy

-ˋˏ But Dottore is a patient man (he was able to create an artificial God y’know- that kind of thing doesn’t happen overnight), so he takes his time with you- getting to know you, having his segments stalk you (he’s not the one doing it, so it’s fine, right?) 

-ˋˏ You’re just like a frog in a pot boiling water. If you put it in the pot immediately, it’ll jump out as soon as it makes contact with the hot water; but if you put it in room temperature water and boil it slowly…  

-ˋˏ The Harbinger knows your “relationship” isn’t an experiment, but at the same time it’s hard to say that he isn’t studying you. Having a mask that obscures his wandering eyes is definitely an advantage  

-ˋˏ It doesn’t matter who you are, he would bend his schedule just for you. He’s that thoughtful! Since he’s practically his own boss (aside from various deadlines and meetings) he can do whatever he wants. Who’s going to tell him off? Pierro and the Tsaritsa don’t care how he achieves results as long as he gets results. So, expect to “accidentally” run into him more times than a regular person would  

-ˋˏ You’re a fatui agent? Suddenly one of his experiments requires him to watch how soldiers (you) fight and train. You’re just a normal civilian? He’ll figure out where you work and find excuses to come see you just to chat 

-ˋˏ It’s even better if you work a customer service job. You work at a cute coffee shop? What a coincidence, he loves coffee! Now he’s a regular and you know his order by heart. (I like to think he actually hates coffee but powers through the bitter taste and energetic aftermath just because it gives him an excuse to bond with you) 

-ˋˏ You work at a grocery store? That’s perfect, he’ll start doing his groceries at your store from now on (you don’t point out how every week his groceries- without fail- consist of mozzarella sticks, a whole rotisserie chicken, cheap red wine, a pack of cigarettes and a singular loaf of whole wheat bread.)  

-ˋˏ If you’re not in the fatui, chances are you don’t know who he is (he doesn’t go out much, after all) so it’s easier for him to play up the “good guy” role (wolf in sheep’s clothing from before nudgenudge). He’s a very smooth talker 

-ˋˏ Of course, you’ve heard rumors about “the Doctor”, one of the Tsaritsa’s Harbingers, a feared man all across Teyvat. So it’s a good thing that your new friend’s name is Zandik and he’s just a normal surgeon that works in a private hospital! Nothing suspicious, 'course not

-ˋˏ Both of you engage in small talk whenever you cross paths. He’ll ask questions about you (even though he already knows the answer to them), all so that you can feel seen and heard- who cares about him, about what he does? This is about you. He wants you to tell him everything 

-ˋˏ The kind of person to use the excuse that he had a Ph.D. for a lot of things. You whine that your shoulders have been sore for longer than usual? He’ll get up from his seat and get behind you, sliding a hand just under the collar of your shirt to press and prod at your muscles to check if there’s anything wrong (good thing you can’t see his expression from behind you), saying he "knows best" whenever the (your) human body is brought up

-ˋˏ His patience isn’t endless, however. If he sees that this isn’t going anywhere, that you seem to be keeping him at arm’s length despite your “connection”, he’ll just take things into his own hands. And even though he doesn’t really get off from causing pain, he’s not afraid to make you squirm either

It wasn’t unusual for you to grab a bite to eat with the Doctor occasionally. Working at a local coffee shop had its perks; one of them being how you could make drinks for free and eat snacks at a discounted price. Though you never needed to worry about money since your friend would always tip you handsomely, basically paying you for the snacks you brought to the table. 

Closing shop was easy enough when you had someone to keep you company while you swept the floor and wiped counters clean. He sat at one of the booths, cup of coffee in hand (you started making it decaf when you noticed his nose scrunch one time when he drank his usual order), watching you work idly. 

“Rough day?” you ask with a gentle smile, looking over where Zandik sat. Being quite some distance away from him you couldn’t catch the twitch of the corner of his lips as he sighed, bringing one hand up to rub his face beneath his pointy mask. 

“You could say that” he grumbles, laying his arms on the table, holding his cup of coffee with both hands. The man tilts his head to the side, focusing on you rather than his pesky thoughts. You put the broom away and saunter over to his booth, sitting across from him with a plate of various pastries in hand. 

“What’s on your mind? Maybe I could give some advice and help! Or you’ll feel better if you just... talk about it,” you chuckle softly, taking a sip of your own drink. Zandik’s gaze never leaves your form, his gaze burning the sight of your lips into his mind. 

If he told you even a smidge of what he was thinking you would, without fail, run and never look back. Even the tamest of things he’s thought about you would drive you away. From him fantasizing about how your skin would taste, to how your heart would look like in a jar on his desk when he worked... he shudders, swallowing down the urge to do something impulsive. Zandik takes a slow sip of his coffee, eyes flickering from your lips to your wide, innocent eyes. 

“Thank you for offering,” he begins slowly, “but that’s alright. I wouldn’t want you to worry about it,” he says smoothly, losing the tension in his shoulders to seem more approachable. With the first two buttons of his shirt undone, hair lightly tousled, and overcoat thrown over the back of the booth chair, he looked nothing like the deadly Harbinger he was. Looked like an overworked businessman at most. 

You puff your cheeks, disappointed that he wouldn’t open up to you. You’ve been doing it this whole time, and yet he won’t talk about what was bothering him to you? It made your heart flutter- he was so considerate- but at the same time you couldn’t shake the idea that maybe he was hiding something. Inhaling slowly, you calm your nerves, deciding that today would be the day you confront him. After all, a good friendship is built on trust, and you can’t stay good friends with someone that hides things from you. 

Oh, how naïve you are. 

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” you say gently, placing one hand on his. The feel of his rough hand beneath yours made you shudder, almost instinctively- are surgeons’ hands supposed to be this rugged? 

“I want to be there for you in the same way you’ve been here for me...” you add, voice trailing off as your cheeks flush in embarrassment. “I think you’re nice to be around. Don’t I owe you for the number of times I’ve complained about customers to you?” you say, chuckling lightly at the memory. 

Zandik doesn’t react, not at first. His eyes fix your face with an underlying threat, gaze hidden by his mask. Although you can’t see his eyes, a shudder runs up your spine at the feeling of being watched so intently. Where have you felt this before... 

“You’re right,” he responds quietly, voice hoarse. “You owe me.” 

His words caught you off guard. Owe him? That was a joke! You were trying to lighten his spirits, to take his mind off whatever was troubling him for even just a second. How come you felt your nerves screaming at you to get up? 

His free hand covers the hand you had laid on his, the grip on your skin becoming firmer the longer you two sat there. Your heart rammed against your ribcage, ears ringing from the sudden wave of adrenaline washing over you. 

“You said you wanted to help me, right?” Zandik says in a sickly-sweet tone, leaning forward to stare at you, gaze unrelenting behind his mask. Swallowing a lump in your throat, you nod dumbly, staring back at him like a deer caught in the headlights. He grins in response. 

Did he always have teeth this sharp? 

“Then you won’t make my life harder than it already is by resisting, right?” he adds. You could hear how heavy his breathing had become in just a few seconds, how his hands had a death grip on your own. His cup of coffee was long forgotten; how could he possibly focus on something as useless as that when you were giving yourself to him? 

The snow pelleted the windows harshly, essentially trapping you inside the coffee shop with him. Even the weather outside couldn’t compare to how cold your blood ran in the face of the Doctor; maybe if you had listened to your gut earlier you wouldn’t currently be skewered in the jaws of the shark that had been circling you for months. 

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x gn reader #zandik x reader #zandik x you #yandere dottore #yandere dottore x reader #dottore headcanons

[catscidr]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✧✧✧ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #childe x reader #childe x you #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #childe x fem!reader #childe x afab reader #tartaglia x fem!reader #tartaglia x afab reader #linked the definition to what a hat trick is bc idk if everyone knows what that is sgfngnfs

[catscidr]

hiiiii omg your childe fic was SO. CUTE. 😭😭🩷🩷🩷 sooooo could I request a scenario where alhaitham and reader are roommates???? romantic tension is real 🤭 imagine the lingering stares at his body (muscles) and getting caught ??? you cooking for him?? falling asleep on his shoulder on the couch?? helping him fix his tie for work???? he's so cute i am absolutely deranged i am so sorry ☺️☺️☺️ dating but not dating fr

i made this into a drabble-y format because i wanted to write things inspired by ur ideas without the story dragging on or being repetitive ueagdhfgs i GET the al haitham brainrot he’s so. aa. if i ever say no to romanticizing mundane life call the fire dept because that is Not me. also never apologize for being feral over a fictional man...... no one is immune to hot 2d men ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, domestic life shenanigans, reader ogles his muscles bc Yeah, lowkey crack a little bit includes: gn!reader, alhaitham, lowkey modern au sorta kindof maybe wc: 1,3k

Living with Alhaitham is easy. Living with your feelings for him, however, is not. At first you thought you would simply get flustered by him because he looked intimidating and because you didn’t know him all that well- you were just a little scared of him and the way your heart raced around him was because of your body panicking. Surely. But, the more time went on and you got to know him, slowly but surely, he came out of his shell and your schedules began to merge to allow yourselves to easily (metaphorically) dance around the other, a seamless waltz that you perfected to a tee. And, to no one's surprise, you weren't perpetually flustered because of how scary he could look.

-ˋˏ his and your chores

Cleaning up after yourself when you live with someone is imperative; when you live alone you can let yourself go a little, but when you share a living space with someone it’s only courteous to keep your shared space clean of any messes. 

You and Alhaitham had agreed that you’d share chores. Most of the time, when you were on picking-up-the-trash duty you wouldn’t need to do too much since he would have emptied out his own trashcan in the communal bin, and the same thing applied to him when it was his turn to maintain your shared bathroom clean since you’d do your best to keep it as clean as possible. However, one of the things you didn’t realize would affect you so much was when you had agreed to this “system” was when you’d see him do the dishes for the first time. 

Something as banal as your roommate standing over the kitchen sink, sleeveless shirt exposing his muscles as he scrubbed the plates you had both used to eat dinner. Was it the water that would occasionally splash on him, making his black tank look even the slightest bit sheer and making you stare shamelessly, drinking in the sight? Was it his small scowl whenever he touched soggy bits of food in the sink? (making you wish he was scowling at you in a strange desire to have his attention even if it was as a result of a bad thing)

...it was probably because, when he was doing the dishes, you realized he always had his headphones in, and it allowed you to stare at him all you wanted when he wasn’t facing you because he was so focused on his task. 

He caught you staring once, but you managed to convince him that it wasn't what it looked like (it was) 

-ˋˏ coming back from the gym 

Alhaitham went to the gym often, that much you could guess from his build. No one had biceps that thick from genes alone- you got to confirm your guess when you (literally) ran into him when he was coming back from the gym in the middle of the night. He promptly apologized (with an expressionless face) and explained that the gym was much quieter at 3am when you asked him why in the Seven he was at the gym so late. Though the flat was dark, you could still see the faint outline of his body from the small bits of moonlight shining through... somewhere. Peeling your eyes away from him you make your way to the fridge to do what you had come out of your room for- that good cold, mid-night glass of water. 

His eyes followed your sluggish figure, scoffing amusedly. With only a few steps, he catches up to you and grabs the glass from your hands, chugging it. Some water dribbles down the side of his mouth down his chin and you do nothing but gawk at him, emotions a mess. 

Should you be mad he so rudely took your glass of water? Or should you be grateful you could see how body properly, illuminated by the fridge light? One thing you knew for sure, you were going to need to grab a new glass of water since he stole yours. 

-ˋˏ making food

With your chores separated, there was one thing you had agreed to do on your own- that being anything regarding lunch and dinner. Breakfast was easy enough; you’d eat a normal portion of a normal breakfast while Al Haitham would eat almost twice as much as you because of his workout routine (he had explained how he had to bulk and offered to pay for the extra groceries) so you often ate the same thing since it was more convenient. 

Lunch was different. Sometimes you had places to be (whether it be work or class) and you wouldn’t be there to eat lunch, vice versa. The same thing applied to dinner. So, when you both were at the apartment at the same time for a meal that wasn’t breakfast, you’d make food for the other- but only occasionally. Basically, only when you felt like it. 

The first time he cooked you dinner he made a hearty soup that, by taking one glance at it, made your mouth water. You insisted that he make more to keep as leftovers so you could bring some to eat when you had time between classes, but he refused, saying that it was best fresh. 

So, he made you dinner more often. Every time he did you felt your heart clench at the domestic sight; Alhaitham in a corny, pink and frilly apron with his sleeves rolled up, carefully chopping up vegetables and tossing spices in the pot. 

One time he accidentally cut his finger and you rushed to his side to help. You held his hand under the running water of the sink and had to force your brain to act normally- it was hard not to let it wander when you kept focusing on the feeling of his hand in yours. 

A different time, he made you taste the broth by holding the spoon up to your mouth. The proximity nearly killed you. 

-ˋˏ convincing him to play games together 

Your roommate spent most of his time being productive, unlike you. Most of the time. 

You offered to play games together every so often when you had first moved in. His answer was a polite no (but still equally gut-wrenching and embarrassing to be on the receiving end of) and you gave up for a while. It couldn’t be that bad to have a beefy, intimidating roommate you barely knew, right? It was fine if you stayed strangers and just... respected the other person’s space. Probably. 

But eventually, your relationship changed from strangers to roommates to acquainted roommates. It was then that, when he saw you on your laptop in the living room, playing the role of Player 1 and Player 2 to solve puzzles, that he thought maybe he should just... play something with you. He told himself that he just felt bad for you, but part of him was actually interested in what you were playing. 

He sat next to you, startling you from the sudden shift on the sofa. 

“Is your offer still on the table?” he asked with an amused smirk, watching the character on your screen fall into poison. With a bashful smile you nod, placing the laptop closer to him so it could rest on your right thigh and his left thigh. 

Explaining the rules of the game was easy enough; you’re fireboy and he’s watergirl, each of you have to go through your own door to clear the level and to get to those doors you have to solve puzzles with the other one’s help. Needless to say, you both learned a lot from each other.  

You didn’t know your silver haired, perpetually calm roommate could raise his voice and he didn’t know you had such a wide, extensive vocabulary. 

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #yes the game is fireboy and watergirl #i didnt want to have it be mario kart or uno #i like to think he'd be a little TOO into the game #“NO YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO STAY ON THE BUTTON ILL TELL U WHEN TO MOVE” #im projecting #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin x you #alhaitham x y/n #genshin x y/n

[catscidr]

Ghost reader with dottore!!?!?

Ilysm

BOO haha gotem. did i get you ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: fluff, dottore is tired and maybe a little ooc, established relationship kinda? not proofread. for plot purposes pretend that sign language doesn't exist and or that neither dottore nor reader know it lmaosghfns includes: gn!reader, dottore, pantalone is mentioned at the end wc: 1,5k

Being a ghost had its perks. One, you could phase in and out of tangible objects at your own whim- made it infinitely easier to tease and annoy Dottore. It’s not like he could push you away if you were to poke his face repeatedly, anyways. 

Two, you had freakishly good night-vision. It lined up with the doctor’s schedule- since he always worked late into the hours of the night you could hang around him and, in turn, entertain yourself by wreaking havoc in his lab (havoc meaning knocking over an empty, plastic container when he wasn’t paying attention to you). 

However, being a ghost also utterly sucked ass sometimes. 

For one, you couldn’t speak. Occasionally you’ll let out a quiet, hushed noise of surprise whenever Dottore caught you off guard or threw something at you, but you couldn’t communicate with him properly. Your main mode of communication was, for the most part and for lack of better words, miming and charades. That in it of itself wasn’t too hard to do since you grew to become incredibly expressive during your time as a ghost, but it required Dottore to look at you (thank the Seven he could see you), which he, in petty revenge, would sometimes refuse to do. 

“Sweetheart, I’m busy. I’ve been busy for a while, and I need you to let me focus,” he says in a firm but calm tone, muffled by a dust mask. It would have sent shivers down your spine if you had one, but you don’t, so instead you roll your eyes at him, floating next to him to peek at what he was doing. 

Sparks flew and sharp, stinging sounds irritating your ghostly eardrums echoed through your body, but it wasn’t enough for you to give up on pestering him. 

It’s not like you could do much, anyways. 

Moving objects could take a lot out of you depending on their weight, volume and size. Pushing a pencil was easy enough, throwing one was just as effortless, but moving something like a desk was harder, considerably so. 

Despite his apparent dislike for you, Dottore enjoyed your company, more than others. Being around someone that wasn’t afraid of him, that treated him like a friend made his cold heart thaw. It’s something he would never admit with his words, too prideful and stubborn to voice out loud, but it didn’t mean that there weren’t any other ways for him to portray his love for you. 

You poked the large metal mechanism he was working on, a loud bonk echoing in the pristine lab. It drew him out of his thoughts, gloved fingers stiffening around the soldering iron he held. 

Nothing moved out of place, but the action was enough for him to peel his gaze away from the two pieces of metal he was soldering together to glare at your semitransparent, floating figure. He says your name with a quiet growl, the word rolling off his tongue in a silent threat. 

“If you keep distracting me, I’ll keep the lab’s curtains open and start working during the day.” he huffs, pushing his security goggles up to rest atop his head to rub his eyes. Dark circles decorated his eyes, the urge to go to sleep for hours at a time constantly present in the back of his mind. 

Your face contorts in an expression akin to one of betrayal, brows pinched together as you freeze in place, your pointer finger hovering just inches away from the machine. Quickly, you’re at Dottore’s side once again, a gust of cold air chilling his skin as a result of your proximity. He pays no mind to it, simply unfurling his sleeves to cover the goosebumps on his scarred forearms. 

You want to ask what he’s working on, what exactly this big chunk of iron and copper is doing in his lab. Why he has safety goggles and a dust mask instead of his usual crow mask, why he’s so much less receptive to your shenanigans than usual. While mulling over your questions, the Harbinger walks off, leaving you alone with your thoughts- but not for long. 

He comes back and takes a seat on the stepladder he was previously on, clicking his pen, slouching forward and leaning his chin on his free hand. You snap your attention back at him- your heart would flutter at the sight if you still had one. 

Dottore sat with his legs spread comfortably, crimson eyes unobscured by his mask, hair pulled back loosely with a few rogue strands falling over his face as he looked at you with his chin in his hand, twirling his pen absentmindedly. You wonder if ghosts are able to- 

“Have you ever tried to possess something?” 

The doctor’s question catches you off guard. You shake your head quickly, your attention definitely piqued. 

“...do you remember being able to possess anything?” he adds, his left brow raised. 

You shake your head again, this time after a slight pause as a sheepish expression adorns your features. Being a ghost meant you had a pretty bad memory, considering your lack of a brain and of, well, everything. You weren’t fortunate enough to have a good memory, being an entity made up purely of elemental energy. 

Your answer seemed to please Dottore as he writes down something on his notepad, scribbling quickly. If you remembered one thing, it’s that you knew you couldn’t read his handwriting purely for the fact that it was impossibly messy. Your brain wasn’t at fault, not this time. 

He looks back up at you. “Do you have an idea of how you could possess an object?” 

Again, you shake your head slowly after a short pause to think about his question. However, your face beams into a bright smile as you give him a thumbs up and a nod of your head. You point at yourself with your thumb, expression changing into something more boastful and confident. 

“You think you can do it?” he asks with the ghost of a smile, amused by your antics. His behaviour was definitely strange, but you paid no mind to it, just happy to see him smiling again since he didn’t seem to do it much nowadays. 

You gesture to yourself with both hands, pointing to your lower body that dissipated into nothingness, silently saying I’m a ghost, that’s what we’re supposed to do. 

He understands despite your lack of a voice and chuckles softly. 

Without another second to waste you float closer to the mass of metal Dottore was working on, analyzing and pondering what to do. Were you supposed to, like, chant something before going inside of it? Despite being an undead spirit, you had only used your ghostly powers to annoy Dottore. Possession wasn’t on the list. 

Figuring that you had nothing to lose, you try to phase yourself into the machine. Your ‘body’ felt like it suddenly weighed a ton and you felt cold, incredibly so. You didn’t know what you were seeing, eyesight blurred and blacked out around the corners as if you had glaucoma at the same time. It was dark inside of the lab, dark enough that your eyesight should be relatively normal. Caught up in your thoughts you fail to see Dottore rapidly taking notes as he looked up at his creation. 

Abruptly, you feel yourself getting ‘ejected’ from whatever state you were in. Your head spins and you hear a faint crash, though you don’t register it as being related to what you just experienced. 

Dottore calls out your name, the sound being much more pleasant to your ears than the previous loud noise despite his voice sounding just as rough. You blink repeatedly, focusing your gaze on him as he says your name again. 

“Are you okay?” he asks with furrowed brows, free hand raised up awkwardly in the air as if to hold your shoulder- forgetting that he can’t. You look at him and nod slowly, though your head felt impossibly tight, your body was readjusting to being so small in comparison to what you had just attempted to possess. 

He jots down something else as he observes your state. 

While he writes down whatever you take the opportunity to look around, noticing the hunk of metal now laid horizontally on the crushed tiles of the lab, dust settling in the cracks. You panic, hands flailing and gesturing at high speed, profusely apologizing to Dottore in your own way. 

He ignores your frazzled state and simply shrugs, expression back to being stern again since you seemed to be relatively okay. 

“I don’t care about the floor; you just successfully possessed a ruin guard. The state of my lab is the least of my worries,” he declares without taking his eyes off of his notepad. 

You stop your movements to look at him, then at what he had just called a ruin guard. If it used to be sitting upright and it was now on its side, then... 

“The banker’ll pay for the damages. We’ll have you practicing your ability to possess things. There’s room for improvement,” he says with a curl of his lips, looking up at you with a glint of mischievousness and something else you couldn’t put your transparent finger on. You nod happily, relieved to be able to make him grin again. 

If there’s anything you remembered, it was how much you loved to see the doctor smile. 

#୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore x reader #dottore x you #dottore x gn reader #il dottore x y/n #il dottore x you #il dottore x reader

[catscidr]

I think we have all seen the "Argenti thinks the Reader is Idrila" stuff on here. But what if the reader actually is Idrila? So I wanted to request Argenti/Idrila!Reader (gn or afab reader) headcanons or a oneshot where Idrila, who has taken on a mortal identity after [Insert tragic event here], and meets Argenti. They develop feelings for each other, Argenti finds out she is Idrila, they end up dating. (Maybe or maybe not in that specific order) I thought maybe after protecting her followers from Nanook she disappeared to ensure Nanook doesn't target them anymore? That part isn't as important so feel free to add whatever backstory you think fits^^ Thank you in advance, I really like your writing!

NONNIE omg im booting up star rail rn to stare at him lovingly. also i changed the scenario a smidge so reader is her own person while also being idrila? if that makes sense......?? yeah. also bc otherwise id be writing ten thousand words n i didnt want ur ask to grow dusty in my inbox d(;∀;d) but tysm for the prompt i couldn’t stop thinking about it ueue. also hey gang peep me trying to make my blog look more coherent n nicer looking. am i doin it ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ cw: a smidge of amnesia and soulmate trope (it’s not that bad, trust), fluff, love at first sight (does that even count in this scenario....), argenti and reader are dancing around the topic a lot bc argenti is a gentleman and doesn’t want to pressure her to talk. blurbs to set up the plot + a fic after them hehe. not proofread, writer’s block is killing me  includes: fem reader (he refers to reader as "my lady"), argenti, natasha, luocha is kinda there wc: 2,3k

-ˋˏ You’d go to Natasha’s clinic at least once every other day because you always had the worst migraines. To the point where you almost got beat up by a Flamespawn one time when you were clearing out calyxes (thankfully there was a Silvermane guard patrolling the area, otherwise you would’ve been charred). The doctor always says the same thing; “Stop looking for fights so often”, “Let your body rest”, “I can’t prescribe you antibiotics”, and your favorite, “Stop slamming my door open I can’t do anything about your headaches”. She was a good friend, but whenever she repeated how she couldn’t be of any help to your predicament, you’d wish you could just take that glass vial hanging from her outfit and chuck it far, far away out of spite. 

-ˋˏ Obviously it wasn’t her fault- she'd done everything she could. Natasha even had you undergo the Underworld’s equivalent of an MRI scan because of how frequently you would visit her, insisting that something was wrong. The symptoms consisted of forgetting important things too often, feeling a foreign buzz in your limbs and brain, having a sudden burst of elemental energy come out of your attacks and a myriad of benign but annoying, irritating signs that something was up with you. 

-ˋˏ It became more of a chore than anything to leave your room. Some days you felt fine, but then when you’d go out again and beat up wave after wave of enemies in Caverns of Corrosion you would keel over, clutching your head while vague images of what could only be described as a fever dream ran through your mind. 

-ˋˏ You decided to leave the Underworld for some time- considering your absence like some sort of “vacation”. You heard of a wandering doctor (and merchant, apparently) by the name of Luocha and, from the people that crossed paths with him, it seemed like he was extraordinary at his job. A trek to the Xianzhou Luofu would be a long one, but after weighing your options you thought you’d give it a try (it was worth it if it meant you’d stop waking up at ungodly hours, holding your head in your hands while hoping, praying that the pain stops.) 

-ˋˏ You (somehow) made your way to the Xianzhou Luofu from Jarilo-VI. As competent as you were however, being stranded on a foreign planet with no map nor local to guide you was... a challenge. In retrospect, maybe you should’ve gotten in contact with that Luocha doctor and had him come to Belobog instead of you going to him since, well, he was a traveling merchant. Going from planet to planet is what he does (you assume). 

✧✧✧ 

If you had read up more on general information about the Luofu you would have been aware of how many enemies were roaming around the docking area. But you didn’t. So, unbeknownst to you, a rogue mara-struck soldier was on your tail, trying to sneak up to you to snag the goods you hid in your bag (which were basically just different types of painkillers and sustenance that bodes well on an upset stomach. He doesn’t know that though.) 

Your head was throbbing; ever since you set foot on the planet, your physical health had slowly dropped down to levels you wouldn’t be enduring if it wasn’t for the promise of a competent doctor once you get to the main city. Painkillers weren’t working, your feet hurt and to make matters worse, you felt the familiar lack of something in your head. It was so bad to the point where you had to have a tangible mark somewhere to remind you that you did, in fact, just take something for your headache and if you took two more painkillers, your body wouldn’t agree with your decision. It was a struggle even remembering what you did five minutes ago, no way were you going to be in top shape, beating up every enemy crossing your way. 

Clouds began covering the bright sun, casting shadows over the desolate, geometric area. You huff, irritated that, from the looks of it, you won’t be able to find a cozy place to set up camp. Though sleeping on a ground made of primarily iron and steel was considerably less nerve-wracking than sleeping on the mushy, cold, dirty ground of Jarilo-VI. So, with a pout aimed at no one in particular, you find some place that you deemed decent enough to set your humble tent. It wasn’t often that adventurers slept outside of safe zones, however with your condition you couldn’t afford to miss out on some rest and possibly get even more lost than you already are. 

You set your heavy backpack down, rolling your shoulders to soothe the ache in your muscles from carrying something so bulky. As you ruffle through your belongings, you open a bottled soda and take a swift gulp, sighing contentedly at the pleasant taste on your tongue. Now that you were sat and could rest your bones (until you started setting up your tent, at least), your ears were able to pick up on some not-so-distant footsteps. 

There’s no time for you to react; the mara-struck soldier that had been following you lunges at you, aiming for your bag. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to yell, but before any sound can leave your mouth, a long, red and gold spear pierces the ground between you and the rabid man, making you yelp in surprise. You scurry as far back as you can in your current state; however, the soldier doesn’t have time to take advantage of your weakened stature. The owner of the spear lodges himself before your shaking figure and the mara-struck, yanking his spear out of the ground with impressive elegance, and summons an array of thorny vines to catch your assailant. 

It takes little to no effort for the seasoned fighter to take down the mara-struck as he swings his weapon, swiftly knocking the blunt end on the soldier’s plexus, knocking the wind out of him. A strangled scream leaves his throat as he scampers away, leaving your belongings safe with you and the strange red-haired man. He lowers his spear, careful to keep the sharp edge far from you, and turns around to face you properly. His brows raise a smidge for a split second before he composes himself and bows before you, the action short and curt.  

“It would have been a shame to lose a beauty such as yourself,” he says smoothly, straightening his back to look down at you with a warm smile. He stretches his hand out, a polite offer to help you stand up, as he continues speaking. “My name is Argenti, I belong to the Knights of Beauty. What might you be doing so far away from civilization, dear...?” he trails off, waiting for you to introduce yourself. 

You were in a state of shock, your mind still processing what had happened in such a short amount of time, that you failed to notice the lack of pain at the back of your head. As you meekly tell him your name, you hold onto his hand to help yourself up- as soon as his armored glove comes in contact with your hand something flashes in your mind; too quick to allow you to think about it too much, or to recognize what you saw for a millisecond. 

“So far away from civilization... do you know how to get to the city?” you ask as you feel a glimmer of hope spark in you. His words were refreshing, probably the best thing someone has ever said to you in the past month. He nods, reaching into his pocket to fish out a blue handkerchief embroidered with a delicate gold trim. Argenti hands it over to you and you gratefully take it, blotting the sweat and... dust off of your face. 

“I have made my way around the Luofu for long enough to show someone the way,” he says kindly. “Besides, even if I didn’t, I would still offer to accompany you through your trek. It is my duty as a Knight of Beauty, for I must uphold chivalry and distinguished manners, in the name of the Goddess guiding me.” His words resonate within you, making you beam, nodding in understanding. 

Your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed by the knight. As you hand his handkerchief back, he smiles at you and gestures to your bag. “What brings you so far from your homeworld, my lady?” Argenti asks gently, though a glimmer of doubt swirls in his sparkling, verdant eyes. The question makes you pause, a memory flashing in your mind too suddenly for you to know what it meant. Although, from what you could tell, you knew you could trust him with what troubled you somehow. 

“Ah, it’s a long story,” you start sheepishly, “I’ve been having these incredibly painful migraines recently. And sometimes I feel like my memory is fading too quickly for what would be considered normal,” you say, trailing off slightly at the end. “I’m looking for a healer, a doctor by the name of Luocha...?” 

Somehow, the doctor was currently the least of your worries. You’d never felt so refreshed before, at least not that you could remember; simply being in Argenti’s presence seemed to be enough to make your aches disappear like a starskiff smoothly gliding through a cloudless sky. 

“I’ve seen the man only a handful of times,” Argenti mutters aloud, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I can do my best to guide you to him, but if I may... you don’t seem to be injured?” the knight says, his voice trailing off into a questioning tone despite the observation. You shake your head, wondering how you should explain your predicament to the man. 

“Like I said, it’s a long story,” you say again, shrugging sheepishly. You wondered if you should even go into the nitty gritty- he could always just be making small talk to help you get comfortable or something. Sensing your unease, he changes the spotlight to him instead. 

“There’s no need to delve into details if you wish to keep them secret,” he says with a kind smile, bending down to take ahold of your hand- gently pressing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. Red flushes your ears immediately, words caught in your throat at the sight of his hair cascading over his shoulders, a beautiful contrast from the gold and silver armor glittering in what was left of the sunlight. 

“As for myself, like I mentioned earlier, I am a Knight of Beauty. I’m on a quest to find my dear Goddess Idrila once more, for I need to pay my respects to them after they saved me from a particularly grim fate.” His words echoed in your mind, your brows knitting together as you felt what could only be described as a cold bucket of water being dunked on your head. “I-Idrila?” you parrot, your voice coming out as a choked noise. Argenti perks up, the hand that had been softly holding onto yours now holding it with a firmer grip, his other hand joining it. 

“Yes, Idrila. Have you ever heard of them? Or...” he trails off, looking deep into your eyes expectantly, almost as if he knew something you didn’t. His eyes seemed to suck you in, bringing a comfortable wave of warmth over you, making you yearn for something. 

“I...” you begin, your gaze falling down to look at your feet. As you thought long and hard about what you wanted to say, what you tried to remember, you slowly look over to his spear, lying flat on the ground- long forgotten since the fight earlier. As if a lightbulb went off above your head, you perk up just as he did, and look at him, beaming. The words were caught in your throat; there was so much you wanted to say, to declare, to do in this moment of clarity, but with how fast your mind was running to catch you up on the current events of your life it was a struggle. 

“Argenti,” you murmur, the name rolling off your tongue smoothly, as you realized seeing the traveling merchant was no longer required. Though the road might have been arduous, and you may have almost lost your mind in the process, being with Argenti suddenly made everything make sense. That’s why your migraines mysteriously disappeared as soon as you were in the knight’s presence, that’s why you had gaps in your memory, that’s why you were freakishly powerful... at convenient times.  

Everything clicked into place. 

The both of you share a pregnant pause, eyes locked together as the world seemed to come to a stop around you. If it were possible, you’re sure there would be delicate, silky rose petals floating around your figures, suspended in the air. You glance down at his lips, and for the first time, make a decision with a clear head. 

His lips felt smooth against yours, the faint taste of vanilla mixed with roses transferring to your own lips. The kiss almost felt like it could be the result of a symbiotic relationship; now that you had Argenti, or at least had him by your side once again, you didn’t think you’d be able to continue on without him. 

#i may or may not have butchered the ending bc i DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH THEM /SOBS #i did my best #୧ ‧₊˚orderup! #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #argenti x reader #argenti x fem reader #argenti x you #argenti x y/n