JUST WITH YOU ! ۶۟ৎ how they act when it's just the two of you. alternatively, the sides of them you see as their partner. pairings (separate): albedo, alice, eula, jean, kaeya, lisa, mona, and varka x reader — established relationship for all, fem!reader in alice's, eula's, kaeya's, and varka's, drinking in lisa's, talks of marriage in mona's, non-sexual nudity in jean's, klee / alice being a mom also pretty central in hers, maybe some swearing, otherwise gender neutral and inclusive. as always, please tell me if i missed any warnings.
ALBEDO, strangely enough, finds himself far more interested in you than any research. He doesn’t feel tempted to talk about or explore his alchemical pursuits as much as normal, far more content to spend quiet moments where it feels like time is suspended and his focus narrows to your breathing, your pulse, and the warmth of your smile and affections. He feels the most human with you because he drops all walls to be present in his adoration of you, too focused in his attentions to keep the mask.
“Do you have anything time-sensitive this week?” you ask softly, fingers twining through his hair as you braid the blonde locks rather sloppily — it’s just to hold the hair off his skin while the hair mask sits, it’ll be taken out and washed soon enough. “In Dragonspine, I mean.”
“No,” Albedo murmurs, melting against you as your nails scratch his scalp and briefly dip down to massage his shoulders. “There’s not much I need to test.”
“Really?” You seem surprised, fingers stilling for a beat too long. “You didn’t saddle Sucrose with finishing your experiment, did you?”
He laughs lightly and tilts his head back to look up at you, studying the flush of your skin under the amber lamplight and the twinkle of fondness that brightens your eyes. “I am not running any experiments right now,” Albedo reassures. “I’m not forcing work on her. I just wanted to be here.”
You pout, soft and distracted, this minimal movement that he thinks should be drawn and immortalized — that is something he should test, he thinks, what comments and behaviors draw each of your facial expressions out. “Why?”
“I haven’t seen you. I wanted to,” Albedo says it like it’s nothing, but he feels your pulse race. That is a pleasing result. “I will go back on the mountain soon enough. But for now—” he turns where he sits between your knees and presses a kiss right over the fluttery pulse in your wrist. “I am quite happy to be here with you.”
ALICE is a very playful woman, and she delights in crafting experiences, finding comfort in structure. But it takes effort to be as warm and high energy as she is, while managing or creating all that she does. When she’s with you, she sheds some of that responsibility. She is still fun and light, but in a return to youthful spontaneity. Alice also shares her burdens with you, appreciating the way you accept her at both her most energetic, and her most mellow.
“Do you think Klee liked me?” you ask softly, turning to face Alice. Her hand slides up to your waist from where it’d been resting on your hip to gently caress you through your chiffon nightgown. “I think I played along well.”
She smiles at you and nods, just barely. Confirmation of Klee’s tacit approval. “She was utterly taken with you.”
“So she takes after her mother in more than one way,” an allusion to Klee’s looks, an affirmation of Alice’s own beauty — one she clearly catches by the wry lilt to her mouth before she leans closer and presses a gentle kiss to your shoulder.
“Of course she does,” she chuckles. “And she shares my discerning taste.”
A few moments of silence, your hand carding through her face-framing strands and tucking them behind her ear. The steady thrum of her heartbeat as she nestles closer against you.
“You do have to play along better as Dodoco though, I’m afraid. You were, quite remarkably… not a Dodoco.”
You laugh. “I didn’t do very well, did I..?” You know you hadn’t — you couldn’t keep the voices straight, nor could you improvise as well as your lover. “Can I expect to get remedial lessons from the master?”
Alice huffs out an amused breath. “It’ll be necessary, I’m afraid. You have to be a better actor.”
“Mm,” you kiss her, slow and lingering. “Do I at least sell the role of ‘I-love-your-mom-very-much?’”
“That was never a question.”
EULA often uses the idea of vengeance as an excuse to be close with people while upholding the reputation and expectations people have from her last name. With you, she is more openly sincere about simply wanting your company — what is the point of seeking vengeance upon your transgressions when she can, instead, simply delight in the feather-light kisses you press to her cheek, and the delightful turn to the corner of your mouth as you tease her?
“Eula!” you call excitedly, and she tears her attention from the dandelion seeds blowing through the wind to look at you. “Sara from Good Hunter has a new coffee imported, can we try it?”
She laughs, soft and short. “I do not control your wallet.” But she comes over to you anyways, smiling despite herself when you make a soft whining noise and kiss her cheek. Your pleading eyes will always win her over, round and loving and so full of light. “Alright. We’ll share.”
Your grin is giddy and you skip away to order. Your hands, suspiciously, also clutch a pastry bag tightly when you return to her side.
“Did it speak to you?” She drawls slowly, glancing pointedly at the brown bag as she pulls out your chair before settling next to you.
“Mhm!” you chirp, tilting your head at her. “Will you seek vengeance on the Good Hunter if you like it?” Teasingly, you shield it from her sight with your hand. “You have to promise to spare them.”
Eula locks her pinky with yours when you outstretch. “I will spare everything you love from my vengeance, silly girl. I’ve got a long enough list to get through.”
You smile. “I’ll help you complete it one day. For now, try this!”
And you push the pastry bag over to her, delight crinkling the corner of your eyes when she shares that she does, in fact, enjoy the taste. Though she finds that the sweetness of your company is what she enjoys the most.
JEAN is busy, and a workaholic on top of her already strict schedule. As tightly strung as she is, she finds you ease her anxieties and allow her to slow down. When she’s with you, she takes the time to admire the beauty around her and breathe it in. She’s even, finally, into the habit of leaving responsibilities on the doorstep when she comes home to you.
“Long day?” you ask, pouring another warm cup of water over her hair. “You’re quiet.”
“Not longer than normal,” Jean sighs happily, letting you do the work to get her hair clean. “I just missed you.”
“Yeah?” you’re pleased by the admission, and even more happy with how she leans into your palm and looks up at you with soft blue eyes, fluttery dark lashes, and a soft smile dancing across her lips. “You look beautiful.”
The pink that blooms on her cheeks is rewarding. “Thank you…” she glances down shyly, and focuses on drawing shapes on the surface of the water, entranced by the ripples. “I think I might take a week off soon. Now that Grand Master Varka is back.”
You stop washing her hair momentarily, studying her expression to find it completely serious. “What would you like to do?”
Jean smiles. “How do you feel about traveling? It’s okay if you want to stay in Mondstadt, too,” she sinks a little lower into the water, letting the warmth soak into her tired muscles. “I just want to spend it with you.”
KAEYA lets the facade fade away when he’s with you. He’s charming, flirtatious and playful. Everyone knows of him, but few get past the quips and jokes and flattery — with you, he’s clingy and far more vulnerable when stripped of all his bravado. It’s far more endearing, though you’d never tell him. The way he wilts when you have somewhere else to be, and the silent undercurrent of please stay a little longer in his kisses and playful jabs makes leaving all the more bitter, and homecomings sweeter.
“And here I thought you forgot about me,” Kaeya muses, pressing a kiss to your hairline and inhaling the scent of your shampoo. He tucked you into him as soon as you came through the doorway, leaving your belongings strewn haphazardly in the foyer — he couldn’t care less about the mess, really, needing you, firm and warm and real, against him and under his chin, legs tangled together on the couch as his hands absently trace shapes on your thigh until goosebumps prickle your skin. “Miss adventurer, too busy to come home, hm?”
Please come home more.
“I wouldn’t dare,” you soothe, kissing his jaw slowly, smiling against the skin when he shudders. You preen under his heavy and greedy gaze, the firmness of his grasp on you. “Such a handsome man waiting for me back home… I nearly trip over myself in my rush to get back.”
Kaeya laughs softly. “Flatterer.”
“I learned from the best,” you smile up at him, and he gives a pleased little hum before pressing kisses to your cheeks and nose before gently grasping your chin and tilting you up to give him a real kiss. He melts into you, forehead resting on yours when you pull back to breathe. “Mimicry is the sincerest form of flattery, right? What’s the hurry?” — you draw it out like he does, grinning when he looks up at you, disgruntled and disbelieving and so sweet — “we have all day to catch up.”
“We do, but we might as well make up for lost time.”
And then he kisses you, properly, with the hunger of a man who has felt your absence acutely, and for far too long.
LISA is less flirty with you, in a way that confuses strangers the first time they meet you as a couple. But the love in her eyes, gentle way she protects and takes care of you, and comfort she clearly finds in your presence leaves no question as to what you are. While she loves lazy days, she is the type to sacrifice her comfort or days off to do something you’d like, or to pick up slack when you’re busy.
“You want to go home?” Lisa asks softly, blocking the rowdy chatter of the Knights from you by placing herself between their table and where you sit at the bar. “You look weary, darling.”
“A little,” you admit, sipping your beer. “Just a bit overwhelmed. I think I’d be fine with some fresh air. It’s been so long since we’ve seen everyone.”
It was true, it’d been a long time since the Knights had such a celebration — and you would be shocked that Diluc let them take over the Angel’s Share, but he was a shrewd businessman and fond of the people, even if he disliked the organization itself — and you did not want to say goodbye just yet.
Lisa offers you her hand and helps you off the stool. “Come on, then,” she smiles, and you’re a little entranced by the low light and the way it glimmers in her eyes like jades. Her makeup looks beautiful, you think, and you make a mental note to tell her that. “Let’s get you that air.”
She lets you lean into her and kisses your temple quickly before guiding you outside, hand and hand. You faintly hear a knight cheer, probably from the show of affection, and Lisa laughs softly. “They act so surprised. Shouldn’t it be obvious? A cutie as lovely as you… of course I snatched you right up.”
You smile, a little hazy and warm, and definitely flattered. “You look especially beautiful tonight,” you murmur, caught on the glitter of her eyeshadow. “Like the finest of jewels.”
MONA is a prideful person. She hates to admit when she needs help. Yet, she often asks you for favors — not that she needs your assistance with them. No, Mona likes to ask for small favors or point things out as bids for your attention, rather than from a genuine need. It’s normally something like opening a tightly screwed on lid, or looking at the sky when the stars are particularly beautiful. She seeks for you to entertain and humor her and delights in it when you play along. And, though she won’t admit it, it has made her less prideful over time, because she feels excited about how you will respond instead of feeling ashamed she needs support.
“Look,” Mona points up at the sky. “Your future is in there.”
“Mm, not the water?” you question, but you dutifully follow her direction to look at the twinkling stars and the lonesome cloud that is slowly drifting by.
Mona huffs. “It’s in the water when I’m looking at it. Otherwise, it’s written in the stars.”
You nod and shuffle closer to her, resting your hand on her thigh and barely stifling a smile when she shivers. “And what does it show you? Am I always by your side?”
She hums, and you look at the blush that dusts her nose and across her cheeks. Cute. “Obviously. But we don’t need astrology and hydromancy for that.”
“No?” you brush a strand of hair behind her ear so you can really look at her: how delicate her features are, the flutter of her lashes as she blinks back her shyness, and the small freckles that’ve formed on her skin from how many days you’ve spent together recently, adventuring and soaking in the sun.
“No. But it would be nice for some sign…” you nod to let her know to continue, and she points dramatically at her ring finger.
“I’ll keep that in mind.” You already had it in mind, but she didn’t need to know. It’d be a shame if you or the stars were to spoil your surprise.
VARKA lets himself be selfish with you. He likes to throw aside his ambitions and goals to be a savior, to lessen the burdens of others. His energy spent elsewhere can make him negligent in his attentions back home. But he can’t bear the thought of losing you, and that motivates him to be less self-sacrificing. If he has no energy for himself, there is no Varka for you to love, just Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius. He finds himself asking for more, being clingy, and puffing up all proud when he has your eyes and attention. His focus turns inwards when it lets him build a life with you.
“Pay attention to me,” Varka demands. Really, it’s more of a whine, a pitiful plea for your attention to shift from your art to him.
“Varka,” you sigh, carefully painting on the glaze. “Just give me five minutes, my love.”
He makes a sad sound, and you can imagine what he wants to say, even hear it in his voice — Oh, you can’t spare a second for me? You’re a cruel mistress, angel. I’m dying. I’m suffering. And you won’t spare me a glance! — but he does, to his credit, sit there silently on the couch and wait. His arms may be crossed, and he may have a pout on his face. But he does wait.
And it is good he does, because the ceramics you were glazing were for Jean, to thank her for everything she does for him (and you had told him quite firmly he would apologize for putting all his work on her when he delivered it, too). And she deserved to be given those gifts without them being half-assed.
“Okay,” you announce after carefully checking the pieces and cleaning off your table. “I’m all yours, you big oaf.”
He grins, outstretching his arms and humming happily when you sink into them. “Finally,” he hums, contented by the way you meld perfectly against his chest. “My pretty girl’s all mine again.”
“I was yours five minutes ago, too,” you deadpan. “You are ridiculous.”
He shrugs. “Who wouldn’t be? Girl like you and you’re not on your knees, begging for a scrap of attention? Something’s gotta be wrong there…”
“Varka.” A warning.
“Alright, fine,” he laughs, all boyish and bright. An acquiescence to stop flustering you for now. “But you will pay attention to me now, right?”
You kiss him to shut him up, in lieu of dignifying the question with words.
It gets your answer across just as well.
۶۟ৎ nyx's notes: i don't really know how i want to format reactions, apologies if it's a little weird.. i think i like most of these though. there's a few that don't feel perfect but i wanted to keep everything at 300 words or less and be supplemental vignettes for the indented sections. hopefully that comes across. also, notably, mondstadt cast (not all of them, but who i could think of ideas for. i have the other casts in the same document, just no writing)
