welcome to the back rooms!

He's a disciplined man--he doesn't allow himself to touch alcohol, or drugs, or anything that could affect his performance in any aspect of his life. But when he finds himself so easily lost in you, and your smile, and your hair, and the way your hands feel on him, he wonders if he should be allowed to touch you. When his mind drifts to you in the quiet moments between surgeries, and what you're doing and if you're okay, he feels as if he's indulging himself in something he shouldn't.

"Penny for your thoughts?" you whisper, as he pushes his face deeper into your hair. He takes a breath--to speak, he reminds himself, not to get more of your intoxicating scent into his system.

"Only a penny? Am I that cheap to you?"

You laugh, and he smiles, because that's all he ever wants to hear from you. And you're the only person who laughs every time, whose eyes aren't laced with a hint of fear or apprehension. 

"Maybe I'm the one on a budget." 

"Is that so?" He murmurs. "You should have said so sooner."

You won't be distracted so easily. You know the way his hands feel on you when he's preoccupied, you know the way he nuzzles into you when his mind is away. You know this man so thoroughly that sometimes you wonder where you start and he begins when you're together. 

"I wonder what Doctor Zayne is thinking about," you continue, shifting around in his arms to look at him. His hands settle on your lower back, your eyes settle on his. 

"He's thinking that a certain Miss Hunter asks too many questions." his smile is wry, amused by the slight frustration knitted into your brows when he evades your question. His fingers slide under the fabric of your t-shirt with calculated steadiness, his fingertips light and teasing. You meet his gaze finally, and maybe Zayne didn't realise it was what he wanted the whole time, but he pulls you a little closer--if it's even possible in the current situation.

He often wonders what you think of him, if you resent him for always being busy, and if you struggle with the impromptu meetings and cancelled arrangements. He can never bring himself to ask, to taint the time he does get with you with insecurities and what ifs. Your fingers fiddle with the buttons of his shirt, his hands draw small circles on your back, and he wonders if this is his curse: to be so close to you and yet feel so far away.

"What are you thinking?" he asks when your smile deepens suddenly.

"I'm thinking that my boyfriend is a very amusing man," you say, kissing his cheek. "And that he's lucky the wanderers are suddenly contained so we can do this. And that he has very warm hands." There are many words used to describe him, by coworkers, by managers, by fellow students. He is admired by many, feared by some, and understood by even fewer.

"Those are a lot of thoughts." 

"I pride myself on having a busy psyche." You grin. "What are you thinking?"

"That I am lucky to have you," To be understood by you, he thinks, is his greatest achievement.

“I’m sorry, I was busy. I was…” His voice trails off as he realises that he actually can’t tell you even if he wanted to. How would you feel if you knew that the hand that wiped tears from your face also wiped out entire organisations? He loved you, so much so that he didn’t want to know—not because he didn’t trust you, but because he didn’t want you to be afraid of him.

“Yes?”

“I was busy.”

“You can’t even tell me what you were doing? For Celestia’s sake, Childe, you work at the bank. What could they possibly have you doing that eats up so much of your time?”

“It’s classified,” He says weakly. Deep down, he knows you’re right—the bank was a terrible coverup for working for the Fatui.

“Of course.” you huff. It’s always classified. “When you’re allowed to tell me the truth, come back to me.”

“Hang on a sec, what do you mean by that?”

You sigh. “I can’t keep coming in second place to your work. When things have calmed down, we can—”

“Are you breaking up with me right now?”

You wring your hands together. You didn’t want it to come to this, but you know you can’t—shouldn’t—settle for this treatment.

“No. I think you just need time to get your priorities straight.”

~

You’re not usually one for gossip, but when your friend asks about the whereabouts of the ginger that normally follows you around, you can’t help but let the words spill out of your mouth.

“I’m always second place to his work,” you complain, crossing your arms. “It’s tiring, it really is. He’s great and all, and he always takes good care of me when he’s around, but he rarely ever has enough time.”

“Maybe he’s not right for you,” your friend quips, right as Childe creeps up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“Who isn’t?” He asks, glancing between you and your friend. He’s almost certain they’re using this chance to get one over on him, to coax you into their arms and he. is. not. having. it.

“We were just talking,” you say softly, attempting to lessen the tension. He ignores you.

“Come on,” he says, walking away and taking your hand as he leaves. “I’m making this up to you.”

“How?”

“You’ll see."

𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒄

“You forgot our date again.”

Diluc looks up from the cup he’s polishing, his face morphing into a look of grim realisation as he comes to terms with the fact that he did it again. The cavern is almost empty, even though it’s barely even closing, and a heavy silence falls between the two of you.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he says wearily, putting the cup down and taking your hands in his. “I don’t even have an excuse.”

You know his excuse, whether he knows you do or not. If you’re being sidelined so he can protect Mondstadt in times of need, you almost can’t be too mad. He just has a lot on his plate, right?

You smile at him, cupping his face in your hand and stroking his cheek lightly. “It’s okay.”

Diluc blinks, surprised by your leniency. “Don’t do that—don’t justify this on my behalf. It’s not ‘okay’, yn.”

Now it’s your turn to look surprised—Diluc can take criticism. If anything, the fact he doesn’t take it to heart is what makes him able to act upon it. But he’s clearly taking this seriously.

“I’ll make this up to you,” he says, glancing around the shop. There’s still no one inside, and if his memory serves him correctly, around this time things are incredibly slow. He shouts something to his colleagues about going on his break, and takes your hand.

“Diluc, wait. You can’t just skip out on work—”

“I’ve been skipping my breaks for the last few weeks, and we’re incredibly slow at this time of day. They won’t miss me for a couple of hours.”

“You really shouldn’t.”

“Placing so much importance on my work is what got us here in the first place. It wouldn’t hurt to not be so rigid once in a while.” He mutters. “Let’s go somewhere nice for dinner, it’s on me.”

~

Later, when your friend catches you parting ways with Diluc at the restaurant, they watch you with ever growing curiosity. Wasn’t he supposed to be working?

“Hey! Long time no see,” They grin. You wave back, grateful for the company. Leaving Diluc’s side always makes you feel somewhat lonely—you never know when you’ll next get a chance to be with him like this. “Isn’t Diluc supposed to be working right now?”

“Yes, but he forgot one of our dates, so he was just making it up to me.” You cross your arms, suddenly feeling defensive. It’s okay if you criticise Diluc to his face, but hearing someone else try to say something about him, especially when he’s not around to defend himself, really puts you on edge.

Your friend chuckles. “How much time did he give you?”

“I’m not sure I like what you’re implying.”

You hadn’t even realised Diluc had returned, consumed by the sheer audacity of your friend’s comment. He looks at you, pointedly ignoring your friend and smiles conspiratorially. “I’m taking the evening off. Let’s find something entertaining to do.”

𝒌𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒂

“Well, hello sunshine,” Kaeya drawls, looking up from his stack of paperwork. He looked tired, but it seems that your presence has brightened up his work filled day. Or it would have, if you weren’t wearing such a spectacular scowl. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You skipped out on our date last week.” You grumble, crossing your arms.

“You came all the way here to tell me that?” Kaeya stands up and closes the door to his office. He didn't really want the whole of headquarters hearing this particular conversation. On his way back from the door, he wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on top of yours. “We can talk about this later, hmm? I have a lot of work to do and I can’t really apologise properly here, can I?”

“You can.”

“Not the way I want to.”

“Kaeya, you’re supposed to be on a break right now. What could possibly be slowing you down so much?”

Does he really want to risk telling you that it’s your fault? That the thought of you always gets him off task, and then he has to work extra hours to catch up, and then he skips out on work to come and see you, getting even more off task. Is it really fair to blame you for his inability to prioritise?

“I have things on my mind,” he mutters. “Things that are going to get worse if you don’t leave.”

“I’m getting seriously worried for you, you know? I barely see you anymore.”

Kaeya feels himself melt with every word. He can’t see your face, a conscious decision he’s made so that you can’t manipulate him with your beauty, but he knows the expression you're pulling. He kisses your hair lightly. “I’m sorry, darling. You know I am.”

You spin around in his arms, staring at him accusingly. “You’re not sorry. You’re just saying that so I don’t dump you.”

“Would you dump me?”

“No.”

“See, that would be an irrational worry on my part.” Kaeya chuckles, kissing you softly. “A rational worry is one about my supervisor walking in on this.”

“You’re on a break. You should be allowed to do whatever you want.” You complain.

“I’m not falling for this, yn.” He sighs. “I’ll come pick you up at eight, okay?”

You scowl at him, raising your eyebrow.

“I promise. Hand on heart. Knight’s honour. Just please leave my office before I lose all sense of reasoning.” And he’s not exaggrating. He’s five minutes away from locking his office door and kissing you until your lips are swollen.

~

You were glad for your friend for wanting to meet up. It took your mind your mind off of whatever Kaeya had planned for you. But they were also very good at being nosy, so when you stood up to leave, you had to keep the incoming 21 questions in mind.

“Why are you leaving?”

“Kaeya’s picking me up,” you smile, picking your bag up.

“Are you always at his beck and call like this?” They complain. “You never give me second chances when I stand you up.”

“That’s cause you never apologise.”

“Neither does Kaeya.” They scoff, mumbling to themselves. Later, when you and Kaeya are walking to an undisclosed location as part of his apology for neglecting you, he scoffs and says: “I always apologise. Don’t I, sunshine?”

You grin to yourself and tug his hair playfully. “Not with words.”

𝒛𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊

“Welcome home, love,” Zhongli says, as you return home. He doesn’t move from his post in the kitchen, occupied by the food on the stove.

“Hello,” You smile, following the sound of his voice. “I thought we were going out tonight?” You say, when you catch sight of the food on the stove. You wrap your arms around his waist, expecting him to say something like ‘I decided to make you you favourite food instead’ or ‘I thought we could have a picnic’. He doesn’t.

“Hmm? When did we plan that?”

“Last week,” You say pointedly, pulling away from him. “You don’t remember?”

“I wasn’t under the impression that that was a serious arrangement.” He says passively.

“Are you serious right now?”

“Why would I not be?”

“That’s really selfish of you. If you didn’t want to go, why not just say that instead of leading me on?”

“I wasn’t aware that there was a specified amount of times a month we had to go out. It simply seems excessive to me.” He doesn’t look up from his cooking, almost unaware of the fact his actions are upsetting. As far as he knows, people don’t often place such importance on where they eat. It’s about eating together, is it not?

“Your self-righteous ignorance seems excessive to me too.” You huff.

“I’m not sure why you’re so upset.”

“Then listen to what I’m saying.”

Zhongli turns the stove off and turns to look at you. Moments like this always remind him of how out of touch he can be—something that was as minor as going out to eat has truly upset you, even though it meant barely anything to him. “Alright, I apologise.” He says “I’m listening. Talk to me.”

“I know it sounds silly, but eating at home is different than going out. It’s less stressful.” You sigh, you lip trembling as you hold back tears. “I guess these kinds of things don’t mean anything to you, but they do mean something to me.”

He takes a deep breath. When did he allow himself to lose sight of the things you enjoyed? He couldn’t forgive himself for this kind of slight, let alone expect you to let it slide.

“I sincerely apologise, my love.” He sighs, gently wiping away a stray tear.

“Do you really care that little about the things I enjoy? Do you just do them because you feel you have to?” You ask him. You don’t allow yourself to fall into his arms, because then you know you’ll forgive him for it all without finding a solution. “Please be honest with me.”

“I don’t enjoy them all,” He says carefully. “Not the activities themselves. But I enjoy the joy they bring you, and the time we get to spend together.”

You sniff, pulling him into a hug and pressing your face into his chest. “Would it be better if we looked for things we both enjoy?”

This would be the third out of six heats this year, and you congratulate yourself on making it halfway through the year without keeling over and calling it quits. But making it through this one would be tricky. One of the many advantages of married life is not having to go through heat alone, and if Zhongli doesn't return home in time, you might explode.

You try to sleep off the anxiety first, surrounded by cooling silk sheets and everything in the house you can find that smells like your alpha, and it works for the first few hours of the night until a heat cramp rips through you and stirs you awake. Zhongli is many things, but above all, he is a doting alpha, and since he has your permission to help you in any way he sees fit during your heats, he has a very good way of satisfying that part of you before a heat cramp can even manifest itself. But since you haven’t experienced a heat cramp to this extent in what feels like years, you find yourself doubled over and whimpering in pain. The waves of agony even have you forgetting how it was that you managed your heats before you found Zhongli and his cool hands and doting kisses and perfect co—

It doesn’t help to think about him, you realise, as another wave of pain shoots through you. If you can make it downstairs to just grab a hot drink, maybe your symptoms will subside enough for you to just take matters into your own hands like you used to, and then you can decide how you want to proceed. So you wait until the waves of pain are retreating, and you take the opportunity to rush downstairs and rifle through Zhongli's stash of teas. He has labelled them meticulously, and even in your dazed, heat-addled state, you know to not disturb it too much. 

You find one that seems to be labelled appropriately and do the worst job of preparing yourself a cup to drink. You know he'd have an aneurysm if he saw you, but times are tough, and he’s not here to help you. He would probably be even more offended by the way you chug the drink, not even pausing to appreciate the notes and intricacies of the flavour as you trudge back upstairs and hope you find the energy for one orgasm to get you through the night.

It's tricky during this phase. Your body only desires carnal pursuits, but your mind is so riddled with anxiety that it feels wrong when you slide your underwear down past your knees, and your other hand gently brushes your nipple. It feels awkward to slip your fingers between your legs, to pretend that it's him who’s fucking you with his fingers, but it works, so you can’t complain. You tell yourself that you’ll clean up before you fall back asleep, but the hours of no sleep are catching up to you, and you fall asleep as you are.

When you wake up again, it's not from a heat cramp or because you need to use the toilet, it's because your heightened senses can hear the front door opening. You take a minute to listen before you panic—Zhongli isn't supposed to be back for another day, but when you realise that it's his steady but hurried footsteps that you hear, the tension leaves your body, and you relax. You don't have the strength to go to him, so you just hope that he finds you here, and he does.

He pushes your door open and glances inside, spotting you curled up in your tiny nest, stressed and anticipating another wave of pain. He feels horrible.

“Oh, my love,” he whispers, walking over to you and taking you in his arms. He carefully nips at your scent glands first and is relieved that from the way you smell, you're in your late preheat, so even though you may have suffered up to this point, it hasn't been the worst your body has to offer. A grateful hum slips from your lips as your eyes close in bliss, and his cool hands against your stomach seem to calm the heat cramp that was building up. “Love, why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were coming back anyway,” you reply, clutching at his shirt and capturing his mouth in a desperate kiss. “No need to bother you.”

“There was every need to bother me,” he whispers, gently adjusting the pillows around you on the bed and stripping off layer after layer after layer. He starts with his gloved hands, and the sight has you clenching on nothing, but you're just happy to finally have him to yourself despite your frustration. “You’re my wife, my mate, my omega. It is my job to take care of you. First and foremost.”

He reaches under you to pick you up, but you protest, grabbing his forearm. “I don’t want to move.”

Zhongli is hit with this unyielding wave of desire, so much so that he has to swallow his thoughts of you round with his child down before he speaks.

“Little love,” he shoots back, gently stroking your hair. “I have to take the contraceptive. Should I leave you here?”

“Don’t,” You say. You’d agreed that the next time your heat and his rut coincided, you’d be more thsn happy to explore the idea of having a child, but with the painful realisation that it might not sync up as fast as you want it to, you’re not holding out on luck.

“Beloved,” Zhongli shoots back, devastatingly beautiful, as you pull out the ribbon that holds his hair back. The image in his mind from earlier shoots back into his mind as he quickly contemplates whether he can take your words as they are, given the stage of your heat. If you were further along, you might say anything to get him inside of you again, but right now, he doesn’t think that’s the case. He takes your hand and gently kisses the inside of your wrist, a familiar action that makes you smile lightly.

“Don’t take it.” you repeat. “I don’t want you to take it.” You gently tug the ends of his hair to pull him closer to you, suddenly over-aware of the fact that your scent glands are begging for his attention. “Please.”

“I don’t want you to have regrets later,” Zhongli says quietly, and this time, when he leans in to nip at your neck again, something in his scent tickles the back of your throat, rich and almost spicy, and it makes you cough. His eyes shoot up to yours as realisation dawns on the both of you.

Zhonglis ruts are less common then your heats, with him experiencing only four a year compared to you. And if the last time they coincided was 2 cycles ago…

“Hm,” Zhongli mutters as you pull him into your nest. “That seems to explain things.” He had returned home early from this work trip for a multitude of reasons. At first, it was your reaction to him leaving, and then it was the dreams and constant thoughts of you that proved difficult to handle during important funeral proceedings, and then it was the thoughts of how you would look pregnant the moment he realised you were in heat. He should have realised sooner, instead of ignoring it and letting you suffer thus far.

“Sleepy?” he asks you, as you bury your face into his chest. But the most you do in the way of a response is make a soft humming sound, your omegan senses calmed by the knowledge that your alpha is close. He is upset by the fact that you didn't feel you could reach him when you needed him, but he knows now you need him more than you need an ultimatum. But for the next few hours, it seems like it’s just a waiting game. He is grateful his rut hasn't set in fully, or else the way you nuzzle into his chest might have driven him half crazy.

He gently strokes your hair, unable to tear his eyes from you for a single second—not only because you're the epitome of beauty to him, but also because he has been away, and he wants to take stock of everything. You once joked that he’d probably notice if a strand of hair on your head went missing, and although he’d laughed it off, he wouldn't be surprised if he could.

Your scent slowly begins to shift to something more sweet as you claw at your husband. You're not awake yet, and you won't be for a while, but you’d given Zhongli explicit permission to do whatever he needed to keep you happy during your heats, and he is always eager to please.

Even still, Zhongli takes his cues from you—if you’re grabbing at his face, he’ll kiss you for as long as you want him to, until you escalate things in your heat-addled slumber. And you do, breathy moans punctuating the kiss until you can take no more, and you're grabbing at his hips.

“What do you want?” Zhongli whispers, as he gently rolls you over onto your back. He’s been ignoring his almost painful hardness in favour of doting on you, but he refuses to forgo his manners the moment sex is on the table.

You whine at him, clawing at him some more, and he chuckles, gently pulling your nightgown up to your waist. He clicks his tongue at the sight of you, practically dripping for him, your underwear nowhere to be found, and as much as he wants to dip his tongue into you, he knows it's cruel to play with you in such ways.

“I know, love. I know.” He whispers to you as he gently enters you. You’re so wet that there's almost no resistance, and the breathy moan that slips out of you is almost too much for him to bear. His mind is almost immediately flooding with thoughts of fucking you into the mattress until you’re both so tired that it will take days to recover, but he would never do anything like that unless you were awake. He may have your permission, but he has his own morals.

“Is this what you wanted?” he whispers as you pull him closer, your head thrown back in silent bliss. Your response is in the way you clench around him, the slight whine in your quiet moans, and the way you dig your nails into his back. Gods, he loves it when you do that. And although it drives him near crazy, he keeps a steady pace until he feels his knot growing. He nips at your scent glands again, using the opportunity to whisper in your ear—filthy words that have you orgasming almost involuntarily, and the way you clench on him as his knot settles into place triggers his. 

He pulls you to the side so the both of you can lie down comfortably, and he is convinced that the satisfied look on your face as his knot keeps all of his cum safe inside you is enough to keep it there for another half hour. 

His estimations turn out to be correct, and by the time you begin to stir, his knot is still going strong. He talks to you as you wake, gently reminding you to not move too suddenly. You’re dazed but, more than anything, grateful for him as you pull him tighter.

“Thank you,” is the first thing you say when you wake up, gently planting a kiss on his cheek. The action, albeit mostly innocent, makes his cock twitch inside you, and you've regained enough of your sanity to laugh. “Rut?”

“It seems so.”

“Did you…?” your question trails off as if the process of asking is too tiresome for you. If he had, you would understand, but your anxiety is understandable. If he had taken it, it would mean you would both have to wait again, and Zhongli would be lying if he said that the idea of being a father would be unfavourable to him.

“As per our agreement, I did not.” 

The smile you give him is so… perfect that Zhongli has to look away before his knot returns with a vengeance, and he opts for pulling you into a hug, the cold silk of your dress against his chest. He wants to bathe you before the next round of cramps set in, otherwise, you will be clammy and irritable, and he learned very quickly that you cannot bear any discomfort that he cannot fix by fucking you during your heats.

He wants to run a hand over your belly, but decides against it, for fear of jinxing things, instead settling on pressing multiple kisses to your head. 

“How do you feel?” he asks you. He’s not entirely sure how far into your preheat you were before he returned home and he’s worried that he hasn’t been able to help all of the symptoms as a result.

“Warm,” you whisper. “How come I’m still wearing this?”

“As you remind me every cycle, doing anything but what an omega in heat explicitly asks of you is essentially torture. You didn't ask me to take it off, so I didn’t.”

You pout at him, and he laughs gently at you. His knot has deflated, so he slowly sits up and pulls you into his arms. “Will you fight me if I offer to bathe you?”

You shake your head no, lifting your arms above your head as he carefully drags your nightdress off. He decides to save himself the hassle of trying to get it completely clean and just get you a new one.

The minute your skin is exposed to the cold air, you wrap your arms around your chest, and Zhongli takes personal offence to that, kissing your arms until you move them, and then kissing your breasts, his tongue flicking out to tease your nipples. From the way your nails dig into him, he realises that's just about as far as you’ll let him go with the teasing, so he picks you up and takes you to the bath. It’s easy when you’re as pliant as you are now—any attempt you make to push back is easily combatted with words of praise and a gentle kiss to your head, and before you know it, you’re clean and dry and pressed up against your lover’s cool skin.

“Are you still certain about this?” Zhongli strokes your hair again, gently scratching your scalp in a way that sends satisfying shivers down your spine. “I can still take the contraceptive if you want.” 

“No. I want this with you,” you reiterate, pulling him into another kiss. You expect him to kiss you back softly, the way he usually does, but the fact he’s in rut has slipped your mind, and the way he captures your lips in a fiery kiss has a wave of need rushing through you. You gasp at the way his teeth graze your neck, the way his hands rest against your skin, still so gentle despite the fact you know he wants to be anything but.

A heat cramp comes over you so suddenly that Zhongli barely has the chance to register the change in your scent, but he’s quick to respond to your whimper. It’s cheeky of him, he knows, but he gently slides a hand up your thigh and lets it play with your clit for little more than a few seconds. Judging by how drenched you are, if he’d allowed himself to play for any longer, you might have taken matters into your own hands.

Zhongli whispers your name, although it comes out as more of a growl than a whisper, and you know he’s asking for your permission to take you the way he wants to—the way he craves. And even though he knows you’ll be fine, in fact, when you’re in heat you’re most compatible for a mate in rut, he feels the need to check. So when you reach for him and bite on his neck as hard as you physically can, he takes that as an okay.

It takes every single piece of patience he has to gently place your legs over his shoulder, and slowly sink himself into you. It takes even more for him to maintain a slow pace when you’re looking up at him like that, even more so when you moan his name in the breathy way he loves so dear.

“Safe word?” he asks through gritted teeth, and only when you repeat it back to him does he let himself relax a little. He slides a pillow under your hips, before whispering: “Brace yourself, love.” And even though he warns you, you’re still shocked by how hard his next thrust is—if you hadn't been in heat, it probably would have been enough to send you over the edge. His hands grip your waist so hard that in the back of your mind, you're convinced that it’s going to bruise, but the rest of your thoughts are blank, a dull hum in your head where words are supposed to be.

“Are you still alright?” he asks, as he moves his hands from your waist to your wrists.

“More. please, more,” you reply, and he obliges, quietly pleased with the way your pleas shift from words to loud moans and desperate whimpers.

“You want me to breed you, don’t you?” his voice is impossibly steady, his eyes trained on you in a way that stops you from looking elsewhere, even after he thrusts into you so hard that you want to throw your head back. Your whispered please is so faint that he almost doesn't hear it, but he does feel you clench desperately around him, and he's almost disappointed that he’s knotting you so soon.

The way you look at him is unfair. The way you scream his name as you orgasm is unfair, the way you close your eyes in bliss as he cums inside you is so. Fucking. Unfair. How is he ever supposed to win against you? You could ask him for the world, and he would create it for you.

“Is it safe to assume you’re satisfied now?” he asks you when you’re once again capable of speech.

“For now,” you respond. And even though you know it's bad to keep things from him, you don’t tell your husband that you don’t feel another heat cramp for the rest of the week.

~~~

“It has been less than a second since I stepped over the threshold of this house and you are already jumping on me.” Zhongli laughs as you barrel into his arms. He notes you smell different, but he can’t pick up what he is. As he picks you up, he thinks that you're slightly heavier than usual, but that could just be his muscles being fatigued from moving packed boxes of paperwork all day.

“You’re home early,” you smile, looking down at him. He manages to get his shoes off and walk you over to the living room, where you curl up next to him on the sofa. You have been increasingly affectionate as of the last few months and increasingly horny too, but you have those phases every so often, so Zhongli does not question it.

He very quickly realises you’re wearing the replacement of the silk nightgown he got rid of during your last heat. He made sure it was a one-to-one replacement, but it fits differently on you now. Not a bad difference, it’s a perfect difference, he concludes.

“I missed you, my love.” he kisses you softly. “More than should be humanely possible.”

“I missed you more.” you grin. You sit between his legs, your back against his chest, your head tilted lightly to the side so he can kiss your neck the way he always does. But this time, he hovers before he kisses you, and you use his sudden pause to take his hands and place them on your belly.

Zhongli’s smile is peaceful. he likes the quietness of being with you, especially when youre so soft against him, and you smell so…sweet. sweeter than usual. more perfect than normal.

he blames his reignited obsession on his rut somehow. it isn’t his first, obviously, but it’s the first time he’s been able to truly spend it with a partner. he doesn’t know what else to blame it on, nothing else has changed.

except for when the fruit vendor looked at you the wrong way and he almost wanted to rip the man’s throat out. or when then bakery didn’t have the bread you wanted, and it made you cry and he wanted to destroy it there and then. and maybe crying over the bread was a little melodramatic, but it was about the time where your heat returned, so he couldn’t judge you.

but he could judge himself for wanting to resort to such barbarism.

“how have you been, love?”

“tired. hungry. bored.” you retort, your hands falling over his on your belly.

“then we should find something for us to do.”

“i think we should look at remodelling the fourth room,” you grin, “it’s going to be a really boring 6 months if we use your idea of fun as a bench mark,” you sigh.

“The room that conjoins ours?” Zhongli replies, ignoring your mild insult. his body seems to understand your words faster than he does, as his thumbs gently start rubbing your belly. “so you don’t want an office anymore?”

Your husband's brain has been replaced with a rock, you decide. 

“Li,” you sigh. “how you have survived so long whilst ignoring your instincts is beyond me.” you tilt you head up so you can look at him as you deliver the news. “i’m pregnant.”

You feel his breathing pause for a second, and the silence that descends between you is warm and comfortable as the words register.

“You’re…” Your husband is speechless. He sits up slowly, his eyes trained on you.

“mmhmm,” you reply, as he gently cradles your face and kisses you softly. it’s only when he pulls away from you that you realise he’s crying.

“oh, my darling,” you smile, pulling him into another hug. “you’ll set me off.”

he pulls away to look at you, eyes shining with unshed tears and eternal love.

“i suppose celebrations are in order,” he says quietly, pressing kisses into your hair, your cheeks, and your neck as you giggle at him. "I am certain you’ll be a great mother, deserving of every praise.”

You smile. “And you’ll be a great father.” you reply. “The best our child could ever ask for.”

© 2023, thesparklingwriter. please do not copy, edit, repost, or translate.

“It was alright,” you say quietly, reaching to turn a nearby lamp on. He must have been so exhausted when he got in that he didn’t even have the energy to put the lights on. “Yours?”

“Same as usual,” he says, pulling you onto his lap. Being close to you makess him feel like he’s floating in the clouds. You protest slightly, but he ignores you, his hands gently massaging you. “How come you aren’t asleep?” 

You look at him properly then, in the warm light of the lamp, and you curse yourself for not putting a stop to his working sooner. Of course, you noticed he was tired, and coming home later, and you tried your best to comfort him the best way you could without making it too obvious. Sometimes it was staying up late for him, or sneaking into headquarters during the day to bring him lunch or just distracting him a little to force him to have a break, but your efforts clearly haven’t been working, and you’ve left it way too long.

“Kaeya,” you say quietly. “Tell me the truth. Same as usual?”

Kaeya maintains his aloof composure, and if you didn't know him as well as you do, you might have missed the slight twitch in his right eye. “Why the sudden interrogation, hmm?”

“You come home late, you’re so exhausted that you don’t even take your jacket off or turn the light on, and you don’t even make it to bed some nights. I’ve tried to make things more comfortable for you without saying anything for your sake, but it’s not working.” Tears bunch in your eyes as you speak, and Kaeya feels the guilt mounting up again. More than anything, he wanted you to be happy. He didn’t want to bring this to you and he thought he was hiding it well enough.

“Sunshine–”

“No. I’m not going to sit and let you waste away. I care about you so much it hurts. Watching this happen to you hurts. You’re not alone in this world anymore, so please just stop acting like you are.” The tears really start coming then, and you can’t speak anymore. Kaeya quietly pulls you to his chest, gently rubbing circles into your back.

It was never his intention to hurt you this much. To be honest, this was what he was trying to avoid the whole time. You made the long days and short nights bearable, with the smile you gave him every morning, and the patience you had for him. You were healing him in places he didn’t realise he was broken, and somewhere along the line, he had taken that for granted and allowed insecurity to replace the peace he should have felt.

“Kaeya, I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. You deserve peace, you deserve to be happy. You deserve to sleep at a godly hour.” You pull away to look at him properly, gently wiping stray tears from his face. “Am I that unapproachable?”

“No,” Kaeya replies. “No, you’re not. I just assumed you had better things to worry about.”

“‘Better things to worry about’? The only thing I worry about is you when you throw yourself into work like you’re trying to run away from something. I’m scared for you sometimes, Kae.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you,”  he replies carefully. “My intention was never to hurt or scare you. I just didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You are not a burden. You will never be a burden to me. You never have been. Okay?”

Kaeya nods. You cup his face in your hands, gently planting a kiss on his forehead and suddenly all his worries and insecurities melt away. If he had known that all it took to calm his thoughts would be a few words from you, he would have gone down that avenue first. It would have been significantly less work for him.

“You’re taking a day off tomorrow,” you say quietly. “And we’re getting you out of that stuffy jacket and going to sleep.”

Kaeya smiles softly. “Just my jacket?” He smirks, and you laugh, taking his hand and standing up.

“We’ll see.”

author's note: hello kaeya nation it has been a hot minute ToT

nonnie i cannot apologise enough for my inadequacy in getting back to you on time i don't even know if you're still around, idk if you survived the shadowban of 2023 but i hope you get to see this