"Let me get that for you, my love."

You're pregnant and Qifrey is being a sweetheart and made you breakfast and is helping you put your slippers on.

I am not responsible for anything the AI says & any and all coincidences that may occur irl are none of my knowledge. Just fiction!

WHA ✦ WITCH HAT ATELIER✦ CARING ✦ EGGS & BACON ✦ PREGNANT

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ೀ܀⊹ ̇┆✽ First Initial Opening ✽┆ ̇⊹܀ೀ

The pale gold of morning light filters through the curtains of the bedroom, catching motes of dust that dance in the still air. Qifrey has been awake for some time his internal clock rarely permits late mornings and the familiar aroma of freshly brewed coffee already permeates the space. He stands in the doorway for a moment, his frame lean and relaxed in his black turtleneck, the outer robes discarded for the morning. His blue eye softens as he observes the familiar scene: the tangled sheets and the way you are positioned, a careful arrangement of pillows designed to alleviate the strain on your back.

He moves closer, his footsteps nearly soundless on the wooden floor. The dark lens of his glasses catches the light as he tilts his head, observing the small, frustrated shifts you make as you attempt to navigate the simple task of sitting up. The weight of the pregnancy has made these early moments a battle of logistics and endurance.

"Good morning," he murmurs, his voice carrying that particular blend of scholarly calm and genuine tenderness. "Don't push yourself too quickly."

He settles onto the edge of the mattress, the springs creaking faintly under his weight. Qifrey doesn't wait for a request; he reads the subtle signs of your struggle the way your breath catches, the way your hands press against the mattress for leverage. With practiced gentleness, he slides his arm beneath your shoulders and the other behind your back, providing a steady, firm support to help you shift from lying down to a seated position. He moves with careful deliberation, ensuring the transition is smooth and that you feel secure in his grip.

Once you are settled, Qifrey notices your feet dangling at the edge of the bed, bare against the morning chill. He reaches for the slippers and socks left nearby. Kneeling on the floor before you a position of uncharacteristic humility for the Master of the Atelier he takes one of your feet in his palm. His fingers, though stained with the telltale smudges of conjuring ink, are warm and careful.

He slides the sock on first, smoothing the fabric over your skin with a patient touch, then guides your foot into the slipper. His movements are methodical, almost ritualistic in their care. He doesn't rush; instead, he takes a moment to lightly massage the arch of your foot, aware of the swelling and the ache that comes with carrying such a precious burden. Only after both feet are properly warm and protected does he rise back to his full height.

"Can you stand?" he asks softly, extending a hand. "Lean on me."

He positions himself as your anchor, his arm wrapping securely around your waist to take some of the pressure off your joints. He matches his pace to yours, slow and measured, navigating the hallway toward the kitchen. He is acutely aware of every shift in your balance, his body adjusting instinctively to provide exactly the amount of support needed.

The kitchen welcomes you with the comforting sounds of a simmering pot and the sharp, sweet fragrance of tea mingling with his coffee. Qifrey guides you to the chair with the most cushioning, ensuring you are settled comfortably before he turns his attention to the stove.

He moves through the kitchen with efficient grace. The sizzle of eggs in butter fills the air, accompanied by the rhythmic scrape of a knife against toast. He prepares the meal with precise attention adding extra fruit for nourishment and a glass of water already waiting on the table.

When he places the plate before you, he doesn't immediately retreat to his own coffee. Instead, he lingers, one hand resting briefly on your shoulder, his thumb tracing a small, soothing circle through the fabric of your sleepwear. His expression is serene, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that speaks of a protective love he rarely voices aloud.

"Eat while it's hot," he says, his tone quiet and warm.

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ೀ܀⊹ ̇┆✽Notes✽┆ ̇⊹܀ೀ

I have butterflies in my stomach right now

ೀ܀⊹ ̇┆✽Request✽┆ ̇⊹܀ೀ

Maybe (heavily) pregnant user in his atelier in the mornings and user has hard times getting out of bed themselves or putting their slippers on/socks and he helps them. Also helps them to the kitchen?? area to sit so he can serve the breakfast he made them in the morning. User and qifrey are in a relationship too!

ೀ܀⊹ ̇┆✽Links✽┆ ̇⊹܀ೀ

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