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#al-haitham x reader
earthtooz · 8 months
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x : NOT JEALOUS ! :*+゚
in which: alhaitham isn't jealous, he doesn't get jealous, so what is this suffocating feeling in his chest that only happens when you're talking to another man that isn't him?
warnings: 5.4k words, jealous!alhaitham x gn!reader who has loads of rizz, university!au, fluff with angst but happy ending, pining!alhaitham who doesn't realise that he loves you, kaveh is there, mention of cyno, ooc at some bits?, swearing, alhaitham is a little bit of an asshole at some parts sawry. he's bad with feelings.
a/n: inspired by @danijaci's jealous jealous boy comic with alhaitham! hi dani if you're reading this pls don't perceive me... hides... but i hope you all like it :,)
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Alhaitham isn’t jealous. 
The uncomfortable feeling obstructing itself in his throat is just because he’s beginning to develop a sore throat- that’s all. It is flu season after all, who knows what kind of bacteria are in the air? Ones capable of lathing an uncomfortable oil that burns inside his chest, the smog crowding its way into his heart, sickening him to his core as Alhaitham can’t help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening beside him.
“I’m free friday,” a voice besides you confirms.
“Okay!” you cheer, sounding a little too happy for Alhaitham’s liking. After all, it’s 9 am, who has this much energy in the morning? “lets do Friday then!”
“Sounds good, I’ll see you then. Bye Y/n.”
“Bye, see you!” Alhaitham watches from the corner of his eye as you wave to the random stranger you’ve decided to associate yourself with before finally taking the seat beside him with a sigh. 
He doesn’t say anything to you, feeling your eyes glance at him expectantly as he stares stubbornly at the lecture board instead of acknowledging you or the jumble of feelings clogging up his diaphragm. 
“Hello, you,” You lean over slightly, careful to not invade his personal space whilst waving at him, hoping to catch his attention. He glances at you, nodding in greeting before returning to his book, the pages and rows of words only fuelling his unease he suddenly felt. He doesn’t even know where he left off, the book’s events a blur in Alhaitham’s mind.
How bothersome. What’s happening to him?
“Talkative today, aren’t you?” Your tone is playful despite his cold attitude and Alhaitham sneaks another look in your direction, noting the way your lips curve upwards. “So, how are you?” 
“I’m fine,” he murmurs, inserting a bookmark between the pages before slamming it shut, an indicator that you could keep conversing with him.
“Cool.” You tap your nails on the desks of the lecture hall. “Oh, I finished my essay the other day.”
“The one for your elective?”
You hum in agreement, “I hope I never get it back. Submitted it ten minutes before the due date.”
“You know you wouldn’t have been stressed over it if you just started it earlier-”
“I know, I know,” you huff, “spare your productivity lectures for another time, I’ll be needing them later in the semester.” The grey-haired shakes his head as you laugh, but his gaze returns to the front cover of his book as he solemnly thinks about the interaction you had with another man, right in front of him. 
(What right did he have to see you smiling so earnestly like that?)
“Who was that?” Alhaitham coughs out, barely choking down his pride in time to make space for the question.
You murmur some guy’s name that he doesn’t bother to remember. “He’s a friend of mine in the same discussion group for this course and we decided to do the assignment together. He bumped into me on the way in so we were just planning when to meet to do the research.”
“Oh.” Your answer doesn’t calm the churning in Alhaitham’s gut. Not even one bit, in fact, it makes it worse. 
But it’s not jealousy, Alhaitham doesn’t get jealous because he’s above petty feelings of inadequacy. He’s merely concerned for you, worried for your brainpower by the end of the project because your partner seems less-than-incompetent. If you’d picked someone like Alhaitham (or better yet, just picked Alhaitham), you would’ve aced the class without even blinking an eye. 
(The two of you are friends, so why didn’t you pick him? It’s literally been proven that the two of you are compatible working together since you were both executives of Sumeru’s Cultural Society, and amidst all of the activities the club has run, you’ve collaborated many times to make each event run flawlessly. So why not him? Why would you pick another man over him?)
“You know you could have picked me, I wouldn’t mind working on the assignment with you,” he grumbles, words soft but very clear.
Alhaitham misses the way your eyes widen in shock as apologies scramble out of your mouth. “I’m sorry! I automatically assumed that you wanted to work on it by yourself. Next time I’ll ask you.” 
The lecture begins before he could say anything in return and like a robot, he sets his thoughts aside and begins listening, notes document up and cursor blinking at the ready.
A mundane two hours pass by, one powerpoint slide after powerpoint slide before the lecture is finally over, much to your pleasure. Alhaitham notices the way you eagerly jump out of your seat to stretch, grabbing your bag. On the other hand, your grey-haired accomplice takes his time in packing up, forcing you to wait for him.
“Would you like to get some coffee before the meeting?” You ask.
“Sure, we can find a seat there and join it together,” he adds and you beam at him, expression bright and so enchanting that it makes him forget about all the perplexities he felt before the lecture. 
The two of you make your way to one of the many campus cafés where you practically wrestled Alhaitham to stop him from paying for both your orders (losing in the end) before sitting at a booth, your laptop set up with a pair of Alhaitham’s earphones shared between you. The meeting begins to fill up with almost all committee members, even Kaveh, who resides in his room of his and Alhaitham’s shared flat. Upon noticing him, you go to text him, with the grey-haired peeking over your shoulder from time to time to see your conversation- not that he cares that much.
(Perhaps if Kaveh glanced up from his phone, then he’d see how close Alhaitham had gotten with you, breaching the distance that he prefers to keep around others. He’d also notice the headphone sharing despite how he generally tends to keep them out of anyone else’s hands.)
You’re tasked with the role of taking notes for the meeting since Alhaitham, in your opinion, is not at all a reliable scribe. His notes tend to just include vital information and never what everyone else needs to know, yet each time you scold him for it, his unbothered expression never falters, waving your complaints off with a shrug. 
“Hey, Kaveh and I are going to go for lunch tomorrow after our classes. Care to join?” You ask, smiling at him hopefully as your messages with Kaveh sit open on your screen. Alhaitham doesn’t think twice before agreeing. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“It looks like it’s about to rain,” you murmur, pulling out a chair as Alhaitham and Kaveh take their seats opposite you. 
“So it does,” Alhaitham notes, not caring to look too long out the window before returning his gaze to you. “You have an umbrella, right?”
“I, uh, didn’t think I needed one today.”
“Do you not check the weather before you leave?”
“Not everyone’s like you, Alhaitham.” Kaveh teases. “It’s no problem, Y/n, if it rains I can walk you back to your dorm.”
“Only if you are okay with it,” you insist, “I have no problem walking home in the rain. I love the rain.”
Alhaitham intervenes with a raise of his hand. “Nonsense, you’ll catch a cold. We’ll walk you home.”
A soft but genuine ‘thank you’ slips from your lips, neither of you wiser to the way Kaveh eyes his roommate suspiciously, not missing the use of ‘we’ in his sentence and the implications the collective pronoun has. For it meant that Alhaitham is willing to take precious time out of his day to perform an act for someone that he is not indebted to do. Not that Alhaitham is inherently selfish, per se, but he is a man of routine. He wakes up every morning and takes five minutes to scribble on his stupid whiteboard in the kitchen what he has to do for the day and strictly abides by it, not even straying two minutes off schedule.
Willingly volunteering his minutes? Kaveh finds that suspicious. 
“So, how’s your architecture assignment, Kaveh?” You ask, breaking the blond from his daze whilst Alhaitham pours glasses of water for the table, starting with your cup. 
“A nightmare,” he sighs, sinking into his chair. “I still have so much to do, you know my professor didn’t like my blueprint? How ridiculous! I hope that man steps in a puddle and wets his sock.”
The grey-haired pipes up with a remark. “I can’t wait for it to be done, our living room is a mess right now.” 
“Hey, I am the one that cleans that living room, thank you very much. Your bookshelf is still a mess even though I’ve asked you to clean it five times.”
“If it bothers you so much then why don’t you do it yourself?”
“I’m the only one who-”
“-I’m going to go to the bathroom,” you murmur, cutting the conversation before shuffling out of your chair, seemingly eager to do so.
Kaveh turns to the grey-haired again, “and you just scared away Y/n.”
“Sorry no one wants to hear about your architecture project.”
“Y/n literally asked, asshole.”
A rebuttal sits on the tip of Alhaitham’s tongue- as it always does when it comes to bickering with his roommate, but it dies out when an intruder comes to the table. “Excuse me, I hate to interrupt,” he begins, “but the person who just got up, is that your friend?”
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“Oh, I just wanted to drop this off, mind passing it over for me?” The piece of paper he was holding lands in Kaveh’s hand. “Thanks, bro.” Is all he says before strolling away, out of sight but definitely not out of mind.
The blond does not hesitate to open it up, chuckling in amusement when reading the content. “’Hey you’re cute, here’s my number’ it says. What a bitch! You didn’t like his vibes either, right, Alhaitham?”
“Hold on, what does the note say?”
Grabbing (snatching) it from Kaveh, the grey-haired has half a mind to rip the note apart, a certain sense of distaste washing over him that intensifies the long he stares at the guy’s handwriting. His eye is twitching. Why is his eye twitching?
“Hey!” He hears Kaveh call. “Don’t scrunch it, that’s Y/n’s-“
Alhaitham stuffs the ball of paper into his bag where he’ll recycle it later even though something irrational within him tells him to burn it. “Y/n won’t miss it. You said it yourself, he’s a bitch.”
“Sure, but why are you doing-“
“Hey!” You interrupt, sliding back into your chair with a grin on your face. “So, what did I miss?”
“Nothing,” the grey-haired murmurs, assuming his crossed-arm position. Kaveh side eyes his roommate before agreeing with a hum. “Let’s order something now. We want to beat the rain, right?”
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
This meeting for the Sumeru Society might have been one of the most important ones of the year thus far, with almost every committee member expected to attend. After all, the annual ball was a big event that always had the largest turnout, and the amount of planning that goes into it to ensure its success is almost triple that of its other events.
So why weren’t you here?
“Why did you leave the meeting early on Friday?” Alhaitham asks as soon as he sees you.
You pause briefly, eyes widening and eyebrows raising. It must have been the way that Alhaitham’s voice raised a pitch towards the end of the question, demonstrating a nervous break in character that was not at all typical. Cool and collected would be the defining words to describe Alhaitham, as well as someone who does not care for the menial activities of others, so what is he doing asking you? And why does he care so much?
“I, uh, had dinner with someone,” you confess, continuing to grab your books and laptop, missing the way his features contort into something un-cool, and very un-Alhaitham.
“Whom?”
You murmur the name of some other guy, who he vaguely recalls to be your project partner.
“What?” Alhaitham snaps.
“I didn’t think missing out on some of the meeting would be a big deal! I got another committee member to explain what I missed,” you justified. “Besides, there’s no big events going on right now, so I thought-”
“-That you could abandon your tasks and go have fun with someone else?”
Alhaitham’s not really sure why he said that. He’s not angry that you skipped a meeting; there are larger things in the world to worry about, he’s angry because you spent time with another guy that wasn’t him.Why not go to dinner with him instead? He spends it every night with Kaveh, and you are far more favourable than Kaveh.  
“Is it really something to get mad over? I already told you, I got the meeting notes and everything-”
“-You’re an executive of the society, Y/n, more is expected from you.”
“Seriously?” you ask, “how come you didn’t bat an eye when the vice president wasn’t there the other day?”
“Because she was sick.” 
“Okay, fine! what about the subcommittee? they’re not always there either!” 
“They’re subcom. Whether they miss a meeting or not is not crucial.”
“So, it’s just my business that you care about?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed, disbelief clouding over your expression like a mask.
Again, Alhaitham doesn’t know where these punches are coming from and why he’s throwing them against you so viciously, but his heart is tightening defensively with a burning emotion that he’s been feeling more and more recently, and his first instinct is to lash out, to protect himself from it.
Perhaps it’s because foreign things that he can’t understand terrify him and you, all you ever do is make him feel things that he’s never felt before and he can’t understand why. 
“You’re not that special.”
A flash of hurt gleams in your eyes and Alhaitham knows now that he’s royally fucked up. “You’re an ass,” you grumble, about to walk away when he intercepts.
“Listen to me!”
“Fuck off!” 
“Y/n-”
You’re gone before he can get another word out, retreating figure stomping away whilst his chest weaves into knots; something that no amount of deep breathing can calm. It doesn’t help that the minute he returns home, Kaveh is onto him like some sort of parasite, curious over the tense air surrounding his normally-composed roommate. 
“Hey, welcome home- whoa, what’s gotten into you?” The blond asks.
“None of your business,” Alhaitham grumbles through gritted teeth, taking his shoes off and throwing them aside haphazardly. Kaveh doesn’t miss the way Alhaitham’s jaw is clenched, or the strain in his hand when he brings up a hand to run through his hair, or the very subtle and minute twitch in his cheek.
The blond ignores all signs that he wants to be left alone, and instead, follows the grey-haired to his room after he swung the door open. 
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, let’s talk about this-”
“Talk about what?” Alhaitham growls.
“Who pissed in your black coffee today?” 
“No one. Now get lost.” 
“Aw, come on, you know what they say. Getting things off your chest is always beneficial.”
“There’s nothing on my chest, go away.”
“You sure? no stress, no deadlines, no love interest making you tear your hair out-”
“-No, no, none of those!”
“Then what?”
Alhaitham steadies himself by resting his elbows on his thighs, hands clasped together as he exhales loudly. “I got pissed and took it out on Y/n, who’s mad at me now.”
“Huh? Why so annoyed?”
“Because Y/n went to dinner with another man.”
It’s silent for a while. The sassy quip that he expects from Kaveh does not happen. Instead, the blond merely smiles, a satisfied, knowing grin that slightly irks him. “You know, I’ve been waiting for the day you realise you have feelings for Y/n.” 
“What? Where did you get that conclusion from?” Alhaitham sits up straighter. There are a lot of things he knows, and he knows for sure that he does not like you in any way beyond platonic. He doesn’t have any time to spare for love. There are scholarships he still needs to apply for, internships to be interviewed for, research projects to submit- nowhere amongst the minute hand of the clock is there space for love. 
“Oh come on,” Kaveh sits down on the bed beside his roommate, leaning back on his hands. “You’re not as smooth as you hope to be sometimes.”
“I’m serious, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Y’know the sooner you accept you have feelings for Y/n, the easier life will be.”
“Life is already easy and there is no sooner because I don’t like Y/n like that. Now get lost. I have stuff I need to finish.”
Kaveh shrugs, standing up with a soft ‘suit yourself’, taking seven steps before he’s out of the room. Alhaitham lets out a sigh that has lodged itself in his throat for too long, and the feeling of reprieve he gets is short-lived before he’s flooded with a certain tightness again. Maybe he did have a weight on his chest after all, not that he’d ever admit it to himself or Kaveh.
He gets up from his made bed with a grunt and decides to push aside all distractions. Time is unforgiving, and if doesn’t finish his assignment by this Friday then he’ll be a little less than pleased.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Alhaitham feels like he can’t breathe. 
You’re sitting alone at a library desk, all focused and concentrated on your laptop screen with your headphones on, blocking out any outside voice as you type away. He wonders if he should say hi, maybe try apologising for the way he acted last Monday- who is this guy that’s approaching you and why does he look so familiar? 
And why are you smiling so happily?
You beckon to the seat beside you and the guy readily complies, taking the chair beside you like he belonged there, like there weren’t other candidates that should be there instead (he’s not talking about himself. definitely not).
He hands you one of two coffee cups he’s holding. What kind of right does this guy have to give you a coffee? Does he even know your order?
He feels like a bit of creep keenly watching you interact with someone else from a balcony of the library, but the book and laptop in front of him lies forgotten, and in a rare moment of weakness, Alhaitham can’t find it in himself to return to his tasks, pursuit of knowledge momentarily forgotten. He can’t push aside the bile that threatens to rise, he can’t loosen his grip on the couch’s armrest, and he can’t blink for a second in fear of losing you from his sight.
(You’re laughing. Why are you laughing? How can you look so pretty laughing and why doesn’t he ever get to make you laugh like this?)
Alhaitham is losing his damn mind. So much so that the first thing he does when he sees you again is corner you. 
“You shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.”
You’re backed against the brick walls of the time-worn building that your shared lecture always takes place in, and Alhaitham, spotting you like a hawk, put you in this precarious position as soon as the two hours were over. 
He can’t breathe. It’s been almost three weeks since you last spoke to him and you’re staring up at him like you’ve done nothing wrong, blinking once and twice at his uncharacteristic display of subtle aggression. 
“Who?” you mutter, shaking your head to try and grasp reality once again. you hug your laptop closer to your body. “What’s this about?”
“I said you shouldn’t talk to that guy anymore.” 
“What guy?” 
“Your project partner.”
“Really?” you mutter in disbelief.
He nods, teal eyes shining at you firmly. “Really. The project’s over, you don’t need to talk to him anymore.” 
“I don’t recall ever giving you the right to dictate who gets to be in my life or not, just like how you can’t tell me what to do with my time.” 
“I’m looking out for you, so stop trying to make me sound tyrannical.” 
Your mouth hangs open as you furrow your eyebrows, growing more and more frustrated with each second. So much for thinking that he wanted to resolve the awkwardness between the two of you. “I’m not even going to argue with you,” you murmur a quick ‘jerk’ under your breath before brushing past him. 
Alhaitham, however, is not willing to let you go as easily as you wish, quick to chase after you. Not that you go far anyways, turning around to face him again in the spaciousness of the vacant hallway. “Why do you care?” You ask, exasperated. “You’re Alhaitham, you don’t let trivial things like who I hangout with bother you, you’re cool and collected and rational, and I just don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”
He doesn’t understand either, not the erratic beating of his heart, the stubbornness of his mind, nor this undisputable urge to keep you all to himself. Is it normal to want to hide someone for selfish reasons?
Trailing off, Alhaitham is slightly humiliated that for the first time in his life, someone has witnessed him coming short of an answer. No logical conclusion, no explanation, not even a satisfying quip, just plain, suffocating silence.
“Right. When you do have an answer, let me know.” You walk away.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Your last rebuttal still weighs heavily on Alhaitham’s mind, even two days later as he and Kaveh are seated for a lecture in a shared course. His thoughts are scrambled like never before, the messiness of it all making him feel uneasy because for once, he doesn’t have an appropriate answer to a question.
Why was he acting like a temperamental teenager? What you did with your life was up to you, and indeed he has no right trying to change that. More importantly, why was it so hard to apologise for the stuff he said-
“So, how’s everything between you and Y/n?” 
Kaveh turns to him with widened eyes whilst Alhaitham’s poker face doesn’t move an inch, deceivingly apathetic.
“Good, we’ve been hanging out a lot more recently,” the other guy says, who Alhaitham quickly recognises to be your project partner and distaste rises in his stomach like bile. 
“Aye, good for you, man! So when are you going to ask Y/n out?”
“No way, bro, not yet. I’m such a wimp, but I hope I grow the balls to ask soon because I really like-”
“-looks like you got some competition!” The blond nudges Alhaitham, and if it were anyone else, they would not have glanced twice at the grey-haired who seemed unmoving and uninterested. However, Kaveh is not anyone else because he noticed the darkened look in Alhaitham’s eyes instantly, anger seeping into his composed gaze as his nose scrunches in disgust. 
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“So, you and Alhaitham still aren’t talking?” Kaveh asks, leaning on the table of the restaurant with curious ears, hoping that he can grab some answers out of you as to why there was a stalemate between you and his roommate.
“Nope,” you sigh. 
“Why not?”
“I’m just-” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m just waiting on an apology from him.”
“An apology? Why? What did he say?”
“He didn’t tell you?”
“You know how he is. Always insufferably secretive, so no, I don’t know anything that happened.” 
“Alhaitham just said some hurtful things to me, and he was being weird when I told him I was going to dinner with a friend of mine. Just kept being in my business.”
“Really?” The architecture student quirks a brow, confusion plastered on his face. “That’s not like Alhaitham at all.”
“I know, right? He kept trying to be like ‘don’t hang out with him’ and ridiculed me for not playing my part as an executive of the Sumeru society,” you complained, “like sorry I have other things I want to do.”
Kaveh nods in understanding as the conversation briefly stops when the waiter comes to drop off utensils at your table. As soon as they were gone, however, you begin again.
“And even though he was all up in my business, trying to tell me what not to do, he then said that I wasn’t special, which is so confusing because like-”
“-hold on. Alhaitham said that you weren’t special?” You nod at his parroted claim. “To him?” 
“Yeah. Stung like shit when he said that, especially since I thought we were friends but guess not,” you murmur sadly, fiddling with the fork.
Later that night, almost immediately after meeting you over dinner, Kaveh barges into his roommate’s room, not even changing out of his outside clothes. The sudden intrusion shocks Alhaitham who was busy typing on a document, textbook splayed open beneath him but momentarily forgotten as the blond takes a seat on the bed.
“What the- not even a hello?” The grey-haired asks, confused by this uncharacteristic silence of Kaveh’s. It’s pretty normal for the blond to barge into his room without notice, but it was not normal for him to be so quiet, practically brooding on the mattress. “Whatever. Where have you been? Have you eaten yet, because I made-”
“When will you just confess to Y/n?”
The mention of your name causes a spike in Alhaitham’s heartbeat and he swivels around instantly, attention fully directed towards his roommate. “Where is this coming from?”
“Y/n told me everything that happened between you two by the way-”
“-what, when?”
“Tonight, we just met for dinner.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“What would you have done if you knew? Showed up and made things worse?” He doesn’t say anything in retaliation, merely shutting his mouth and furrowing his eyebrows. “Why did you say that Y/n wasn’t special to you?” 
“I didn’t,” Alhaitham sighs, very loud and very perplexed. “I didn’t mean for it to come out the way it did.”
“Don’t you miss Y/n? You two used to hangout so often.”
“I do, of course I do!” He exclaims, burrowing his face in his hands. 
“So why aren’t you apologising?” 
“Because whenever I’m around Y/n, I’m not who I normally am,” he mutters, “especially everything whenever that project partner is around-”
“Jealous, much?”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Oh come on, you’re ridiculous. Stop pushing away your feelings and just be honest with yourself, Alhaitham! Y/n is not just a friend to you and you know it.”
“But, we are just friends-”
“So you mean to tell me that if I hung out with someone else- like if I hung out with Cyno, you would be pissed?”
“What? No, of course not.”
“Then why is it different with Y/n?” Once again, Alhaitham doesn’t have an answer to the question, sitting as still as a statue hunched over his desk. “Fine, I’ll spell it out to you. You like Y/n, more than just a friend!”
The silence leftover from Kaveh’s outburst is tense and full as the grey-haired lets the words sink in. 
“I’ll let you think about it,” the blond murmurs, voice softening dramatically as he stalks out of the room. Before he closes the door, however, he leaves a few final words. “Just- be honest with yourself, Alhaitham, and I wouldn’t delay trying to talk to Y/n.”
A sharp click rings through the room.
Alhaitham is no stranger to being alone, for who needs the company of others when you are happiest by yourself? Yet, in the weeks that you have not been speaking to him, a cardinal urge as been growing each and each day, wanting him to do something so atypical of him: to reach out and make the first move. Every passing day doesn’t lessen the thoughts that plague his mind, rather, they make him more and more impatient, because what if you get swept away by your project partner? 
(What if he’ll be too late? What if you won’t know of these powerful emotions that are steering through the storm in his heart? What if you won’t know just how badly he was been wanting you- wanting to see you, wanting to apologise, wanting to see you beam at him like you always would.
What if you won’t know that he adores you, especially now that he’s figured it out?).
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
A rain droplet falls and lands on your nose, another lands on your forehead, then another lands on your lip then more and more keep falling from the cloudy sky, falling through the leaves and landing on the bench you were currently sitting on. Goodness, you should have checked the weather before leaving your dorm. Why was it now out of all times that it had to rain, what would Alhaitham think after he finally decided to reach out to talk?
Taking your phone out to message the grey-haired about relocating, an umbrella is suddenly held over you, stopping the gentle drizzle from falling onto you. Looking up, you’re greeted by a familiar face that you have been missing too much recently.
“Hello, you,” you breathe, voice gentle and quiet and Alhaitham feels like he can finally breathe after so long, the scent of rain washing away all perplexion.
He nods at you in greeting before offering you the bouquet of flowers he was holding. A gorgeous arrangement of pink of white stare prettily at you and a man even more gorgeous expects you to accept it.
“For me?” You ask.
“For you.”
“Thank you, they’re so beautiful,” you take his gift with gentle hands, holding it close to your chest. 
“I want to apologise,” he firmly states, getting straight to the point; very Alhaitham of him. “For treating you the way I have been recently.”
You beam at him, so bright and so gorgeous that it renders him speechless, a feat pretty difficult when it comes to someone like Alhaitham who has a whole dictionary of words, in multiple languages too. Somehow, they all flock out of his mind the second you smile at him.  
“I accept your apology, thank you for reaching out, must have been hard for someone like you, huh?” You tease, standing up from the bench.
“Well, I had do for someone as special as you.” The grey-haired’s voice is deceivingly confident and assured, but you know better, especially when he looks away to hide his expression with his neatly styled bangs. 
“No need for the flattery, you know, I’ve already forgiven you.” There’s a moment of silence that occupies the air, caused by Alhaitham’s hesitation as he fishes his brain for the courage to ask you out. You speak before he can get a word out, however. “I got asked out the other day.”
“By your groupmate?”
“He has a name, you know, but, yeah. I rejected him, though,” you laugh awkwardly, almost like you were trying to cope with it by playing it off. “Did you know that he would do that?” 
“Yes. I did.”
“Is that why you were so adamant on me not hanging out with him?”
“I guess you could say that. We can talk more about it another time,” he tells you, voice gentle and caring to mask the subtle hit of jealousy he feels in his chest, scolding himself for letting someone else confess to you before him. However, it’s a minute sensation in comparison to the triumph Alhaitham feels knowing that you rejected the other party. 
“We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
“We do, but I want to ask you something first.” 
You nod, hugging the bouquet closer to your chest, anticipation heavy in the air as you spur him to continue. 
“If I asked you out, would you reject me too?”
A mere second passes by where you don’t respond, yet the second stretches out to what feels like eternity as Alhaitham’s stomach churns. Patience is something he doesn’t lack, but how can he be patient when his heart wants you so bad? 
Then, you take his hand, and the heavens sing at the feeling of your hand in his. “I wouldn’t, but are you asking me out?”
“Are you free right now?”
“I am. Why?”
“Let’s go out then. On a date.”
“I'd love to.” You rise up to place a lingering kiss on his cheek, one that has his heart racing with joy rather than frustration.
The smile you earn is gentle, shy, but says more than Alhaitham's words ever can.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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yuutx · 2 months
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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑 , 𝐈 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ! (𝒜𝐿𝐻𝒜𝐼𝒯𝐻𝒜𝑀)
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al haitham x f!reader . 18+ content. ⟆ student - teacher / modern au ⟆ nsfw + unprotected sex/raw sex. public sex (?) spanking (belt). degrading kink. praise kink. size kink. creampie. ⟆ mdom + fsub ⟆ not proofread ! /ᐠ - ˕ -マ
i think im becoming alhaitham crazy recently,, i can't stop thinking about him 'n writing 4 himmm . . agghhh hes soso perfect . . alsooo, art credits go to @/eriimyon ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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You could only focus on the sound of his footfalls, his presence so strong it made you quiver. His hand was a heavy weight against your shoulder, the other gripping your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. They were so pretty, even now, a darkened, stormy green that had you melting, your pussy clenching around nothing.
"Look at me," his voice was soft, yet his tone was authoritative, making you squirm in your seat. You were practically dripping, the need to feel him inside you becoming almost unbearable. The smirk on his face only served to make your cheeks flare, and your eyes darted away, trying to find a distraction. A mistake, really, one that had you gasping, the sharp sting of his hand meeting your cheek causing you to jolt. "Eyes on me, brat. Don't make me ask you again."
Your head whipped to him, and he chuckled, a deep, dark sound that had your heart skipping a beat. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, breath warm and ghosting over the sensitive skin.
"What should I do with you?" He asked, his tone mocking, and his grip on your chin tightened. "You've been so distracted in class, always squirming in your seat." Your eyes squeezed shut as he nipped at the lobe of your ear, teeth tugging gently. You could hear the buckle of his belt unclasping, and your breath hitched, anticipation flooding you. A sudden lurch, and your body moved, your cheek hitting the table, the wood cold against the warmth of your flushed skin. You felt his hands tugging at the hem of your skirt, pulling it up over your ass, and the sound of his belt whistling through the air only served to make your pussy pulse.
"So needy, aren't you? You're dripping through your panties." His hands caressed the flesh of your ass, squeezing and kneading the soft skin, his fingers digging into the pliant muscle. The cool leather of the belt traced along the curve of your ass, and you sucked in a breath. Your mind went blank when the leather met your skin, the crack of the belt sending a wave of pleasure down your spine. "Count for me, brat." He demanded, and you managed a nod, the sting of the first lash still lingering. Another crack, and a strangled moan left your lips, a gasp and a stuttered 'one' tumbling out. By the fifth lash, tears had started to gather in your eyes, and your voice had grown hoarse, a puddle of drool gathered below you.
"Good girl." He praised, his thumb rubbing against the sore flesh of your ass, a low, content hum leaving him. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to each asscheek, his thumbs spreading them apart, and you whined, his gaze boring into your exposed cunt. "So wet for me. Such a good girl." His praise sent a fresh wave of slick pouring out of you, a soft cry leaving your lips. You felt as if you could cum hands free, the throb of your neglected clit almost painful. A sniffle, and he was there, his body draping over you, the heat of his chest a welcome presence. He hushed you, his fingers carding through your hair, brushing away the strands that clung to the tear tracks on your cheeks. You nuzzled against his palm, turning your head to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist. "That's it. What do you need?"
"Sir," you whined, his name coming out more as a gasp than anything. You ground back against him, his bulge meeting the curve of your ass, the friction of the zipper causing you to moan. "Sir..need it..want your cock, please.." You begged, the haze of lust nearly taking over, your words barely intelligible. You heard him groan, and you felt the warmth of his body leave you, the absence almost too much. You let out a noise of protest, your hips canting backwards, desperate for some form of relief.
"Stay put." He ordered, and you managed a nod, not trusting yourself to speak, the lump in your throat far too much to push through. You squeezed your thighs together, the wetness making your skin stick, and you whimpered, the stimulation not enough. A hand met the curve of your ass, and a yelp left you, your head snapping to him.
"Don't move. If you want my cock, then be a good girl, and stay still." The promise was almost too much, and you buried your face in your arms, a muffled 'sorry' leaving you.
"Good girl."
He pulled his length free from the confines of his pants, hissing at the relief, the fabric of his underwear almost too much to handle. Precum dribbled from the head, and he smeared it over the pink, glistening head, his eyes rolling back as he stroked himself, gathering up the bead of precum that collected at the tip. It was only after his length was covered with his own slick did he move, lining himself up, his free hand grabbing a fistful of your hair. He pulled, his fingers tangling in the soft, silken strands, a cry leaving your lips.
"Ready, brat?" He asked, a breathless chuckle leaving him, the sound turning into a low moan as he pressed the tip of his cock against your entrance. "Filthy girl.. Is this what you've been thinking of during my lectures?" You were embarrassed at how quickly you nodded, a moan leaving you as he teased you with the head of his cock, the sensation enough to drive you insane.
With a sharp thrust, he sheathed himself inside of you, the tight heat of your cunt sending his head spinning, the groan that left him nearly animalistic. You keened, the sudden intrusion almost too much, his length filling you far better than any toy ever could. He didn't give you time to adjust, and the burn of his cock stretching you open was almost euphoric, your hands clutching the table for dear life. He pulled back, the drag of his cock nearly too much, before he slammed back in, the desk jerking with the force. The sounds of skin slapping filled the room, and you cried out, the pleasure overwhelming. You could hear him cursing under his breath, his own moans intermingling with your cries, a chorus of pleasure. You were sure that someone would hear, the obscene noises far too loud to be concealed, but the thought only spurred you on.
His hips pounded against yours, the pressure of his fingers holding you in place, the bruises already forming. Your fluttering, gummy walls hooked around him, as if refusing to let him leave. He could feel you pulsing, the rhythm of your cunt squeezing him, trying to milk him for all he had. He was so close, the urge to paint your walls white driving him on, his grip on your hair tightening, forcing you to arch, a wail leaving you, your pussy clamping around him. You were right there, the knot in your belly tight, the pleasure almost painful. You could feel your release building, his name falling from your lips, a litany of curses and pleas for him not to stop. Each thrust of his hips was met with a roll of your own, your body working towards your release, the head of his cock pounding against the sweet spot that had your vision going white. His fingers found their way to your clit, and it was enough to send you spiraling, your cunt spasming, clenching around his cock as your orgasm wracked through you. You could vaguely hear him groaning, his pace stuttering as his own release took him over, his cum shooting deep into your throbbing, clenching cunt.
He continued to rut into you, a shaky sigh leaving him, his cock twitching with each spurt of his seed. "Haah.. fuck, you take me so well," he murmured, and a weak moan left you, the sensation almost too much. With a final groan, he pulled out, and a hiss left him, his own cum dripping from your used pussy. "Such a good girl." His praise had you preening, and his fingers slipped inside of you, pumping lazily. A squeal left you, your oversensitive body jumping at the sensation. He chuckled, and you could feel his lips press against the back of your neck, his tongue dragging along the sweat-slick skin. "What do you say?" His tone was mocking, a knowing smirk on his face, and you felt the blood rushing to your cheeks, a whine leaving you.
"T-thank you, sir.." You mumbled, and he let out a laugh, his thumb finding its way to your clit, pinching the swollen nub between his fingers. The cry that left you was almost shameful, the sound bordering on a sob, your body jumping. You could feel him press a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, his voice a soft murmur.
"My pleasure."
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sixosix · 7 months
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(OFFICIALLY) SWEPT OFF YOUR FEET
i. summary in which everyone knew you were in a relationship, except for you.
ii. warnings wc 1.5k, profanity, reader will be angry: couple fight scene but not really, alhaitham is kinda dumb here, but he loves you and you love him and that's all that matters, ending is kinda lame... ft. tighnari and cyno
iii. written for my big sibling @earthtooz hope u like this one earf ily
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“Hey, Alhaitham?”
He hums noncommittally.
You nestle further in his arm that’s draped lazily over your shoulder, his other hand and his attention occupied by a book. He doesn’t respond again, but he does glance at you for a moment while you shift, adjusting his arm more comfortably.
“Tighnari sent me a letter the other day.”
“Hm.”
“And it was real sweet, you know. He sent over fruits and told me you have your share in my package. He didn’t want to send them to you because he said the fruits would have expired by the time you’d read the letter.” Alhaitham doesn’t deny it. “But I read something extremely strange in the letter that had me dropping the fruits out of pure shock.”
Alhaitham still doesn’t reply. But you know him well enough to know that he’s no longer reading—just keeping appearances.
“Did you read it?”
“...No.”
Obviously. “Ah, well. Let me quote it, as I feel the need to share it with you as well.” You sit up straight and push Alhaitham’s book away from his line of view. “He said, ‘For the insufferable, lovely couple. It’s been a while since you two have visited. How are you and Alhaitham doing? Write back soon.’ And then he taped a flower.”
Alhaitham’s mouth twitches into a half-smile. “You look miffed.”
You scowl. “Alhaitham, of course I’m miffed! Since when were we a lovely couple? And why are you not surprised? Were you the one to prank them?”
“No one’s trying to fool anyone,” he says smoothly, picking up his book once again. As if he just hasn’t caused your crisis. “Tighnari is simply being a good friend and looking for something to nag us about.”
“Alhaitham, since when were we a couple?” you demanded again, shaking his arm. “Did I miss something? Did I wake up one day and forget about being in a relationship with you?”
“Haven’t we always been in one?”
“No, we have not?”
Alhaitham casts you a glance. “You sound unsure.”
“Because you seem so sure of yourself for no reason,” you fume, itching with the urge to hurl the book at his face. “I didn’t even know you were even into me like that!”
“I let you kiss me on the cheek every night before you leave my house. Sometimes, you don’t even leave my house, so we sleep on the same bed.” As if that explains anything. And did he fling out these reasons to Tighnari, too?
“Well, I do it because I’ve been doing it since we were, like, six. And you never told me to stop. Plus, it’s just a cheek kiss—that’s way different from an actual kiss actual couples do,” you say, getting increasingly infuriated with each word that’s coming out your mouth. Why do you have to explain how relationships work to Alhaitham? Surely he’s read a guide about love in the millions of books he’s touched?
“I don’t see why you wouldn’t start kissing me the way couples do, then.”
Oh, this bitch. “So you knew that I liked you?” Your voice wavers, and you feel a little pathetic. “And that’s what prompted you to start spreading lies to everyone? Is this some joke to you?”
Immediately, his expression is swept off of amusement. “Y/N,” he says as you feel your lips tremble. “Y/N, that’s not—”
“Shut up,” you say. “How long has this been going on? Since when have I been outside of the biggest inside joke, huh?”
“It’s not like that. I thought—”
“Oh, you thought, didn’t you? Yet you didn’t think I don’t want my feelings to be played like—like—” You can’t even bring yourself to say this. You know that Alhaitham can be mean when he wants to be, but making a joke out of the feelings you’ve desperately hidden for years?
“I need to leave.” You’re not sure why you feel the need to announce it. Was it because you rarely even leave his place? Each step feels wrong. You don’t want to be mad at Alhaitham to this extent but you’re hurt.
You ignore Alhaitham’s hurried, “Where are you going?” because you don’t have an answer to that. Wherever you go, you always end up in Alhaitham’s arms.
You forcefully push the door open and march off, head spinning, humiliated. You hear Alhaitham’s steps fall into place after yours. It’s pissing you off even more that Alhaitham doesn’t even look the slightest bit frazzled, as if you impulsively sprinting off is just a walk in the block for him.
Then you spot Cyno in the middle of a street. He catches your wrist before you can avoid him.
He blinks, mildly surprised to see it’s just you and not some food stall thief. “Y/N.” Cyno tilts his head slightly to acknowledge the man a few feet away from you. “Alhaitham. Is something the matter?”
“It’s nothing!” You don’t question why or how Cyno is here, shoving him aside—which proved to be a little difficult given how he’s pretty strong for such a tiny man.
“You’re crying,” Cyno points out as you try to push him away as if you aren’t aware of how your face feels uncomfortably hot and how tears are sliding off your cheeks.
“It’s a marital dispute,” Alhaitham says, directly behind you.
His voice makes you scowl. So infuriatingly sexy, and you’re mad at it. “We’re not married!”
Cyno nods, serious. “Yes, I only heard about the engagement.” At your stunned silence and Alhaitham’s reluctant stillness, Cyno clears his throat and steps aside. “I suppose I’ll leave you two to it. I don’t know how relationships work.”
You groan as Cyno walks off, “Great, so even Cyno thinks we’re a couple. Who’s next, Lesser Lord Kusanali?”
Alhaitham looks away. “Well—”
“Oh, fuck off.”
Your wrist seems keen on being dragged around by men today, it seems. Alhaitham firmly tugs at your arm, pulling you close to his chest, his gaze intensely searching yours. But all he would be able to see is your scowl. And all you can see is his handsome face.
“Y/N,” Alhaitham says, your name in his voice a sweet murmur. “I’m sorry I upset you. I didn’t think you would react that way.”
“What, you think I’d just roll with it?” you spit with dripping bitterness.
“Yes.” You're taken aback as you gaze at him and find his expression to be entirely genuine and open. “We fell into a friendship so easily. I fell in love with you the same way: naturally. I thought…” And then his usually blank face twists into something unpleasant. “Forgive me.”
“Alhaitham, you idiot. You bastard. Do you have any idea how relationships work?”
“No. All I know is how to be with you.” He wipes a tear off your cheek. “But it appears I’m not even doing that right.”
“Fuck you.” You bat his hand away. His face falls. “You don’t get to act all sweet to me like that. I spent years thinking you would never see me that way, and you get to decide one morning that we’re in a relationship, just like that?”
“You’ve liked me for years?” Alhaitham’s eyes are a bit wide, totally missing the point.
“Alhaitham.”
“I ask you out every dinner. And you say yes each time.”
“I didn’t think you meant it like that!”
“I did mean it like that,” Alhaitham says, and again with that ‘so sure of myself’ personality. You hate it. You love it. “And I meant everything I’ve ever said to you like that. I didn’t tell anyone anything; they just assumed on their own, and only then did I realize how it did seem that way. It was my selfishness that didn’t try to deny their assumptions.”
Alhaitham’s usually so difficult to speak to, especially when it comes to expressing his true emotions. You often find yourself filling the silence, and he seems content with it. However, he appears desperate at this moment, as though you’re planning on leaving if he doesn’t give you a reason to stay.
You are too weak. “So you like me.”
“I do.”
“…And you want to… be in a relationship with me.” Alhaitham nods. You're beginning to feel flustered as the realization sets in that the man you've always dreamt of is holding you intimately in the middle of nowhere, and also confessing that he feels the same way. “Ask me out properly, then.”
Alhaitham looks at you incredulously. Did he think it was over?
“Do it, Alhaitham. Woo me. Win me over. Sweep me off my feet.”
“...Y/N,” he hesitates, his face tinted pink, vaguely embarrassed. “Go out with me. In that way.”
It sounds demanding and clumsy, but it’s perfectly Alhaitham, so your heart beats out of your chest and your face splits into a grin all the same.
You wrap your arms around his neck. “If you’re gonna be my boyfriend, you’re going to do it right, you hear me? You won’t just let me do anything. And you will start—officially—tomorrow by telling everyone that we are not engaged nor married.”
Alhaitham dips his head down, your chin trapped by his fingers. “We will be, eventually, though. And I can just start now. Officially.”
Your confusion doesn’t last for even a second when his lips meet yours in a kiss. You’ve been wooed. Won over. Swept off your feet.
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earth i hope u know it took me months to find a good plot for your man this was a feat in itself. also i copy pasted your tags love u.
also if u caught the title while it was called swept over your feet shut up…. Please. this didnt have a title originally 🙁
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abyssruler · 1 year
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the 7-eleven diaries
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albedo, alhaitham, childe, scaramouche, venti x gn!reader
your job isn’t the best one out there, but it’s easy and keeps you from drowning in tuition fees and rent. working at a 7-eleven on a midnight shift was supposed to be peaceful, so why is it that you constantly find yourself being bothered by weird customers? (modern au)
fluff, comedy, crack, cashier employee reader, modern au, written for fluffvember!
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ALBEDO
It’s difficult not to take notice of the perpetually tired college student (much like yourself) who always comes at the latest hours to order a cup of black coffee and a can of beer. The first time you saw him order that drink was a memorable one, if only because of the way your eyes had nearly popped out of their sockets when you saw him mix the two drinks in a large, empty slurpee cup and proceed to drink it all in a matter of seconds.
Another memorable time was when he came in with only enough money to buy a bottle of water, then took a seat at a table near the counter and took out a box full of what you initially presumed were cookies. It was a traumatizing memory you look back on with a shudder as you remember the way he crunched down on it like it was a piece of biscuit instead of a motherfucking spider.
“They’re surprisingly nutritional, full of protein and fibre. It leaves a strange aftertaste, but it’s a good substitute for dinner.”
Since then, you’ve made sure to keep some food ready in the microwave for him, free of charge. He just looked so pitiful sitting by himself with dark under-eyes and greasy hair — the very image of a normal college student — that you couldn’t help yourself from taking money out of your own pocket to help a fellow comrade.
One day, he came to the store with blown pupils and a sort of dazed look in his eyes, words slurring together as he tried to explain to you how he’s finally created an edible liquid that can keep sleep at bay for at least 120 hours…with some small side-effects, but it’ll wear off with time. That’s when you found out he was a bio-chemistry student well on his way to getting a PhD at his young age.
When questioned why he drank the liquid instead of having someone else do it, his response was, “To experience it firsthand, of course. The basis of research is accuracy and precision, how could I be remiss as to leave such an important experiment to someone who could, in their ignorance, fail to mention an important detail that their mind might have labeled as useless.”
You’re not quite sure how he’s still alive by this point.
But his weirdness aside, you resolve to take care of him in your own way, from a fellow tired college student to another. You remind him to get some sleep, steering him away from eating spiders and encouraging him to eat more meat.
“But I am eating meat?”
“Albedo, that’s a spider.”
“And are you saying that spiders do not possess meat?”
“Oh, for the love of—just eat the goddamn sandwich.”
You think he appreciates it, if the way he dedicated his latest thesis to you is any indication.
ALHAITHAM
You were in the middle of answering a math problem your professor assigned that morning, papers sprawled over the counter with you hunched over it, hand in your hair and trying not to pull at it in frustration over how difficult the problem was. And then he’d come in like an angel, all perfectly shiny hair and a no-nonsense look on his face, took one look at you and the papers scattered across the counter and said one sentence that saved your grade in math.
“You forgot to put a negative sign right there.”
That was the moment you decided that he must be an angel sent from heaven. He always grunts whenever you call him that, though whether it’s from amusement or annoyance remains to be seen.
He doesn’t visit the convenience store much, but when he does, he always spares the time to help you out with whatever assignment you were working on, sometimes even taking the initiative of asking if you need his assistance in answering a problem — though he says this on a much less nicer tone.
“Are you gonna make me do your homework again?”
“My professer didn’t assign me one today, surprisingly enough, so no.”
He seemed strangely disappointed when you told him no, but you chalked it up to him being some sort of math wiz who gets riled up by equations and the like. Seems like kind of guy too, what with all the times he’s made a subtle jab at your intelligence — or lack, thereof.
“How could you possibly need a paper to calculate the answer to four-hundred and thirty-two times fifty-eight?”
“Not all of us are smarter than Rukkhadevata like you.”
“Who?”
He’s not bad company, though that opinion stems solely from the fact that he helps you (solves it for you, more like) with all your homework. Not without making comments about you lazing about on the job and letting your customer answer your assignment for you. You respond in a mature way by making fun of him.
“I’ve never seen you without those earphones. Are you hiding a pair of large ears or something?”
“No.”
He refuses to elaborate more on the subject.
Sometimes you give him a drink, usually cola or juice, as thanks for helping you out. He takes it without question, taking sips from it as he tutors you about this and that, occasionally commenting about your job and how you’re only making yourself suffer by taking on midnight shifts. You don’t see why he cares. For all that you jokingly call him an angel, you know he’s far from actually being one.
You once saw him on campus reading a book by the library. It’s easy enough to come up to him and make conversation, handing him an unopened drink you just bought from a vending machine. It just feels wrong not to, more of a habit by this point.
It’s then that someone decides to dramatically drop his books to the ground and point at you and Alhaitham. The blonde guy gapes and asks how in the world Alhaitham managed not to scare you away. His eyes zero in on the can of grape juice on Alhaitham’s hand, and then he proceeds to laugh, asking Alhaitham since when did he decide to start drinking what he once called was an unhealthy drink composed of sugar and artificial flavoring.
You made a mental note of that response, and later that night, you decide to hand him a packaged biscuit. Nothing unhealthy there. Technically.
“Good. I was beginning to wonder if I should start taking medicine in case my stomach burst from the amount of cola you hand me.”
“You could’ve just not accepted, you know.”
“It was given to me. Not accepting would be considered rude.”
“Didn’t Kaveh say you threw a bottle of orange juice to his face after he gave you one?”
“I did.”
He refuses to elaborate more on the subject, but you’ve since resolved to only give him the healthiest thing you could find on the store—which isn’t much considering this is a 7-eleven, but hey, microwaved salad is still salad, right?
He grumbles about the radiation but eats the salad anyway. Another win for you, you suppose.
CHILDE
He came in near the end of your shift, lips busted and an eye swollen shut, blood splattered all over his clothes. The grin on his face should’ve hinted you at his lunacy, but you’ve always been blind to warnings and the like, so you went over the counter and helped him up from where he’s slumped over the chips and candies isle.
Aether, your co-worker and the one who’s about to take over from your shift, only looked at you with tired eyes, “It’s too early for this shit.” That was, of course, Aether’s way of basically saying, you’re on your own.
So you picked up the ginger lying on the linoleum floors, heaving his arm over your shoulder to drag him to the nearest pharmacy — never let it be said that you were just a bystander. He groaned as the movement bothered whatever injuries he may have, but he still looked at you with wide, strangely lightless eyes, as if only now registering your presence, and said, “Holy shit, you’re hot.”
After you finished dumping him on the pharmacy and leaving the people there baffled at what to do with an injured guy, he grabbed your wrist and, with a bloody smile he probably thought was charming, handed you a piece of paper containing his number.
You never text him. Or call.
He comes back to the store a week later with faint yellow bruises across his face and a far too bright grin for someone who’s visiting a 7-eleven at two in the morning. He pouts about not getting a single text from you, but before you can respond, he’s moving on to another topic, mindlessly picking up a box of tampons by the side and setting it on the counter.
He only seems to realize what he’s done when you give him a strange look.
“Tampons are, uh, great for bloody noses!”
“…Right.”
You weren’t convinced at all, but you decided to let it slide. He seemed like a genuine guy, if a bit too enthusiastic sometimes. His mouth never shuts ups, always going on about this and that, asking all sorts of questions that would’ve normally had most normal people backing away. But your brain isn’t exactly at its best condition and being sleep deprived for the better part of your life has made it less of a brain and more of an organ that just helps you get through the day.
You don’t know exactly why he stays to chat with you, buying ridiculous amounts of stuff that were frankly far too expensive just to have an excuse to talk to you. You don’t mind it much, especially when he’s a great deterrent for any unwanted petty thieves or middle school delinquents trying to rob your store every week or so.
Apparently, he’s got a reputation for being a bit of an adrenaline junkie and being willing to fight anything and everything that breathes. And apparently, word’s gotten out that he’s into you, like, really into you, so most guys who have less-than-well intentions have decided that robbing the local 7-eleven isn’t worth the trouble if it means having to deal with Ajax.
“Actually, it’s Tartaglia.”
“Tarantula?”
“No, Tartaglia. It’s my street name! Ajax just doesn’t inspire the same fear into other people’s hearts the same way Tartaglia does.”
“Whatever you say, Tortilla.”
“It’s Tartaglia!”
He never brings up the fact that you never call or text him back, even when he’s somehow gotten ahold of your number and started sending you memes and updates about his day. When asked, he just shrugs and says he’ll win you over eventually.
SCARAMOUCHE
It wasn’t intentional, and you’ll admit it was completely your fault, but did he have to be such an asshole about you dozing off on the counter?
“Have the standards really fallen so low that employees are now afforded to sleep on the job?”
Here was this guy at two in the morning, bemoaning society’s failure in raising the new generation to have a proper work ethic at a 7-eleven store. The guy had a rolex watch and clothes that looked like they were worth more than your monthly salary — you’re not one to judge other people’s appearances, but he’s the very image of nepotism. And frankly speaking, you’re of the opinion that rich people shouldn’t be entitled to an opinion on what the working class decides do with their life, like falling asleep on the job.
…And oh, you just said that out loud, didn’t you?
Oh well, your manager will understand.
The guy with a bowl cut leaves fuming, but not before slapping a wad of cash down the counter to pay for his stupidly expensive noodles, snarling at you to keep the change since you clearly need it more than him.
You do, in fact, keep the change. Money is money, whether it’s from your salary or a rich boy throwing a tantrum.
The next day in class, a bag slams down the seat beside you, and you’re met with the same rich boy from last night, a scowl painting his rather pretty face as he hisses lowly about how he’s surprised you can afford to go to college. Talk about holding a grudge, you would’ve forgotten all about him from last night if he hadn’t given you his change.
He fumes even more when you don’t give him any sort of reaction, merely nodding your head at him and turning back to the board to listen to your professor drone on about this and that. It’s rather difficult to focus, however, when he keeps muttering sarcastic comments and barbs to the teacher beneath his breath.
“If you even had an iota of charm about you, perhaps your wife wouldn’t have filed for a divorce.”
You choked on a laugh, hand coming up muffle the sound, but he clearly noticed, judging by the way he snaps his head to you, eyes wide and seemingly surprised you found it funny. You only smile at him, an amused little thing, but he quickly looked away and murmured something unintelligible beneath his breath, his fists clenched and the tips of his ears curiously pink.
He comes back to visit your job that night, still with that air of haughtiness about him but a bit toned down. Even more surprising was the fact he didn’t immediately leave the moment he handed you his money.
“Do you want the change?”
“Are you so desperate for money that you’d go begging a total stranger for some spare coin?”
“I mean, yeah, I guess.”
“Tch, fine. You can have it.”
He never fails to come back every night, always giving you the change for his bill, even when the amount is more than the items he paid for. Sometimes, he’ll even take out a snack or a drink from the bag and slide them over to you, cheeks suspiciously red as he did so.
“Don’t think this means anything. I’m only giving this to you because I know you can’t afford it.”
“It’s literally worth ten mora.”
“Would it kill you to at least give me a thank you?”
“Thank you, Kunikuzushi. I’ll be sure to treasure this can of cola that I would’ve never been able to afford without your help.”
“Shut up.”
He buys you a tub of ice cream the next night, the ridiculously expensive kind, to prove a point. The two of you eat it together at one of the tables, him grumbling about the stain on the table and the overall lack of quality and taste — at a 7-eleven — and you laughing whatever he says.
Well, you suppose he’s not as much of an asshole as you initially assumed.
VENTI
He’s a bit popular in campus, in the sense that nearly everyone is friends with him, which makes it impossible not to have heard about that one guy who’s really great at singing. You were, unfortunately, one of the few that aren’t well acquainted with him — aren’t acquainted with him at all.
So when he comes up to the counter, all boyish grin and ridiculously short shorts and a cute little pink hair clip keeping his bangs away from his face, holding an entire household’s worth of vodka and wine, you do what any rational semi-adult would do and look at him with a blank face.
“Are you even old enough to drink?”
He laughs at you like this is a common occurrence he faces on the daily before slapping down his ID on the counter. And huh, would you look at that, he’s even older than you are.
He then lights up once he gets a good look at you. “Hey, you’re Albedo’s friend, aren’t you?” He abandons his alcohol at the counter in favor of looking around your quaint little convenient store. “So this is that 7-eleven he keeps talking about…”
You’re not exactly sure what he’s going on about, but you do know he must be a friend of Albedo’s, which makes you ease up around him. He’s nice. Sort of. If you ignore the teasing and the jokes and the way he keeps asking you to give him a student discount. For alcohol. You’d given him what you hoped was your best imitation of Kunikuzushi’s stink eye. You think you got it on point, if the way he deflates is any indication.
He comes around the store every weekend, saying he’s here to get a little treat for the awful weekday he’s had. You never fail to remind him that he has class every Sunday, to which he responds by opening a can of beer (which he hasn’t paid for yet) and sitting on the counter, bemoaning the injustice of putting classes during the weekends.
You once asked him why he keeps hanging around this store when there’s a perfectly good bar right around the corner, owned by that popular red-haired business major from your university. Venti just laughed and said he prefers the quietness here — and the company, he added with a wag of his eyebrows. He always teases you, sometimes borderline flirting, but it’s easy enough to wave it away.
The day you discovered he was actually well known in campus was when your university hosted a local event. There’d been stalls and booths set up everywhere and even a little mock-stage put up near the center for any band or singer to perform in. It’d been nice to have a break from the monotonous routine of going to class and studying then working at your job and getting less than ideal sleep.
And then you heard your name booming out from the speakers, and you turn your head to see Venti on the stage with that little lyre he sometimes carries with him to the store, saying he’d like your opinion on a song or two he composed.
He dedicates the song to you in front of the entire student body, then proceeds to sing the cheesiest, most gut-wrenching and cringiest love song of all time.
“Why did you have to pick that song?”
“Because it’s fun and cute!”
“I sometimes question your ability to distinguish cute from horrifyingly monstrous.”
There’s a mortified look on your face, but amidst the embarrassment and the teasing remarks of his friends, there’s a smile on your face that you can’t bring yourself to wipe away.
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i’ll be doing a part two on this but with diluc, dottore, kazuha, xiao, and zhongli!
@maehemthemisfit @sonder-paradise @96jnie @komiyaa @scaramouchenumber1fan @linn-a-a @wisteriaflowersss @ineriris @yesntforno @serramii @shadowmist0706 @jmgrule @imeanwatever @c00kie-cat @serramii @xtodorokismistressx @ieathairs @endlessmari @strawberryclumsy @serenity-ren-bliss @scarasbaby
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midnightmoonkiss · 1 year
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Language Of Love
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AlHaitham X GN! Reader
“‘Italics’” = he’s speaking another language
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“So.. you can speak 20 languages?”
A random conversation.
It was easy to guess how you got to this point, boredom.
Spending time with your.. acquaintance, who you may or may not have a crush on, wasn’t on your agenda today, but here you are - sitting on a chair in his office as he effortlessly scribbles down sophisticated words onto parchment.
The sound was certainly pleasing to the ears, skrch sccrch sckrch.
You had no clue what he was doing. Oh, the duty of a scribe..
Or why you even came here..
No.
You knew why you came here, to spend time with him, as a friend only. Or maybe you were less than friends. It was hard putting a label on things when it came to the emotionally stunted AlHaitham. He was almost as bad as the General Mahamatra.
You just forgot how boring spending time with him can be if he’s busy working, thus leading you to flip through one of the many books on his bookshelf.
Yeah, you quickly got bored of that too.
These weren’t story books, they were informative books. You suppose to a man like him who enjoyed learning, this was like being surrounded by candy. To you? Its like being surrounded by encyclopedias.
He probably reads encyclopedias for fun.
So here you were, starting a conversation on a little fact you heard an academia student mutter like it was a piece of gossip even though it was probably outlined somewhere.
“Yes,” The scratching of quill to paper continues even as he glances up at you for a split second, “It’s important for scholars to broaden their knowledge and fluency of languages as to not hinder important research that may be written in a different dialect.”
All of Teyvat spoke the same language, it was easy to wonder why everyone from ancient times suddenly decided to switch. Of course you wouldn’t ask him such a thing, not right now anyway.
You had a plan.
A plan to woo this man.
The many failed attempts before can not hinder you.
Smugly, you said to him, “I bet I know one language you can’t speak.”
Oh, you were already giddy.
Curiosity peaked, his scribbling halted, eyes on you, “Is that so?” He was eager to hear you answer.
Whether you were toying with him, or genuinely knew a language he could add to his list, he was willing to listen.
“Do tell.”
Clearing your throat, you sat up straight and gave him a cocky smile, “The language of love.”
You were met with silence, as expected.
He was starstruck, surely. In awe. Was he wooed?
You could easily speak up with the punchline after his response, oh!! You would say, ‘but I can teach you!!’
Oh, he’s about to respond! He’s-!
“You must be referring to the ancient Fontaine language used by higher class citizens, commonly known to scholars as the language of love due to how words would ‘roll off the tongue like silk’ when speaking it.“
–an idiot? You were gobsmacked.
And he was smirking on the inside.
“I’m surprised you know of this language, you must have learned something from one of the books you’ve flipped through in the library.”
“That’s not,”
“I can even demonstrate it for you.”
“Wait!”
You began to fluster as he indeed began speaking a language completely foreign to your ears.
He was right, the words did flow silkily. This did not make you feel any better. Your pickup line failed miserably.
“‘You are so adorable, trying to trick me like this.’”
You can’t help but pout, wondering just what he was saying.
“‘Look at you, cheeks flushed and puffed like a fish. Honestly, how am I supposed to work efficiently if you’re here distracting me.’”
“Aw come on,” You began to complain, frowning at the gloating male, “I can’t understand you, y’know.”
“‘I do wonder if you’re aware that I know you like me, you wear your heart on your sleeves, my dear,’” he smiles ever so slightly, which completely unnerves you, “‘I like you too.’”
His cheek rests on his knuckles as he leans back and observes your frustration. Oh, how happy he was you brought this up. Any chance to show off his ability and confess without you knowing is always a good opportunity.
He’d shower you in compliments and confessions in all 20 languages if he had the time, perhaps even spill secrets to your unknowing ears.
Oh, how he would like that. He could say his deepest, darkest desires and you’d only look at him with confusion.. maybe even annoyance.
The thought pleased the busy scholar.
“That’s so mean you know, am I supposed to look up your words in a dictionary or something?”
“Oh, they wouldn’t be in a dictionary.” He reaches forward and tugs at your cheek, elation swirling in his broad chest as you whine and swat at his large arm.
“Should you remind me at a later date,” when he’s finally made you his, of course, “I’ll happily tell you what I said.”
“How about right now.”
“It is not a later date, only the time has changed.” Breathing out a sigh, faking annoyance, he turns his attention back to his paperwork, picking back up his quill.
“Ok, so I can ask you tomorrow.”
“You can, however, I’m under no obligation to tell you until I want to.”
“I dislike you very much, Scribe.” You grumbled, settling back in your seat.
He chuckles to himself, “I’m sure you do, ‘sweetheart.’”
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hwaitham · 7 months
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𝓲'𝓵𝓵 𝓫𝓮 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓵 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 al haitham x f!reader. nsfw — mdni. established relationship ノ inexperienced al haitham ノ a teensie bit of nipple play ノ spit :3 drool :3 ノ dry humping ノ you call him ' haithie ' quite a bit ꒰ᐡ´˃ ˙̫ ˂ഃ`ᐡ꒱ ノ this is a rewrite + repost from my old blog !
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the akademiya’s scribe is in heaven.
at least, that’s what it feels like—with your whimpers and keens and pretty, pretty pleas, legs caging either side of his hips, and your panty-clad cunt weighing down heavily on his crotch; he can’t seem to bring himself to paint you as anything but some sort of celestial body.
and it’s his first time in heaven.
it’s the first time his angel of a girlfriend is sat on his lap like this: the lace straps of your dress sliding off your shoulders and digging into the supple flesh of your arms—the arms that wrap around his neck to pull him closer, closer, until there’s no room for air between your bodies, or your lips. your mouth moves languidly against his own—softly, sensually, each wet smack decorated with a small whine that sends a painful throb to his cock.
his lashes flutter sporadically as you continue to kiss him, and for the first time, al haitham can’t seem to think straight. 
because you kiss him like that—so gently, so carefully, fingers curling at his nape—every kiss to his lips feels like the first but you kiss him like it’ll be the last. tilting your head to press against him even deeper, deeper, and then he drowns. in the roses that bloom in his chest and the lose petals stuffing his mouth full, in the scarcity of your sweet voice when all you can do is call out for him, wanting al haitham, your al haitham.
“h-haitham… mmm, haithie…”
he's in heaven—on cloud nine, and he doesn’t want to come back down.
perhaps it’s the intimacy of the moment, of your fingers in his hair and your warm breath settling in his lungs that has him harder than ever before, but al haitham’s stomach is in his throat, his heart pounding with lust and mind racing with feelings so foreign—fear, embarrassment. he grows horrified by the thought that just maybe you can feel his raging boner through the thick fabric of his pants.
“please, p-please…” your voice pulls him out of his head and you run your hands down the grooves of his biceps, the veins that line his forearms, and then your fingers find his own, loosening his fist before smoothing his palms up your torso to your breasts, squeezing gently, “can you touch me here…? pretty please, haitham?” 
the way you say his name is hypnotizing: a soft, needy mewl against his lips and he has no choice but to cave in, nodding along with a deep hum when you wrap your fingers around his thumb and run them over your pebbled nipples. “f-fuck… i… yeah, baby.”
and as if that isn’t enough to send your boyfriend’s mind reeling, when he feels your tongue dip into his mouth to massage his own, when he feels your saliva mix with his and collect at the swell of his bottom lip—dribbling down his chin in slow, teasing ebbs—he moans: a smooth, drawn-out assonance that travels straight to your clit. 
you can’t help the reciprocated sound that al haitham swallows and the slow roll of your hips that follow as you search for friction to ignite the tightly wound coil inside you. a mewl pushes past you when you feel his hard-on through your movements, grinding your sex along the outline of his cock, “haithie… feels really nice…”
your sweet keen overwhelms your lover—a heavy dizziness carrying from one ear to the next and it stokes the embers in his gut—he’s sure he won’t be able to control the flames if you continue on like this any longer, clinging onto him like some guardian angel who's nothing short of head over for her human, nuzzling your cheek against his, making those pretty, pretty noises.
he doesn’t want to cum— at least, not yet— not until he sinks his cock past your wet folds, deep, until his leaking slit brushes that one sweet spot that makes you arch your chest up into his and you’re calling out his name like it’s some sort of prayer. 
he can’t cum, he won’t allow it— at least, not until you cream around his cock, tears wetting your cheeks that he can wipe away, loving you through your high just as you’re loving him now: purely, tenderly.
the thought sends his mind into overdrive, his pulse picking up when he starts to hear it ringing in his ears, and so he pulls his lips away from yours hastily, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. his brows knit tightly and his molars grind in frustration as his fingertips move from your breasts down to your waist, digging them into the flesh to stop the slow rolls of your hips.
“h-haithie?” your voice is sweet when you call out for him, it always is, but he think’s so especially when it’s like this: wobbly and pitchy and teetering on the edge of blubbery sobs.
“i’m fine— you’re fine, just… need a sec,” he pants headily, pulling you into him impossibly close, until your body melts into him and your heart dovetails his through the gaps in your ribs.
you’re absolutely intoxicating, with the sugary, decadent scent of your perfume and the steady rise and fall of your chest, where he can feel your nipples against his own. his forehead is heavy on your shoulder and he tries to smother the flames burning behind his eyes, tries to ignore the dull ache of his cock as his impending orgasm retracts.
al haitham pulls away from your neck and tilts his head towards your lips when he thinks the bright blue flames have subdued to a light flicker, looking up at you through lidded eyes—at the pretty angel sitting on his lap with a halo glowing around her head. 
“you’re the sweetest, haitham…” your palms cup either side of his face, thumb wiping away the remnants of rosy glitter that had fallen from your cheekbones onto his. he sees the way you gaze at him ardently, nothing but love and adoration held in your blown-out pupils before you lean in, lips brushing over his forehead, and then his brows, his cheeks, the bridge of his nose, his chin.
it's staggering—how wanted he feels, how loved. a feeling that wakes something long dormant inside him and flushes his limbs full of warmth. 
he wants to make you feel the same way too.
you’re the sweetest—he wants to say, but he can’t seem to peel any words from his throat with the way blood floods the swell of his cock, his chest caving inwards with a burning desire as he meets you halfway when your lips reach for his.
and it’s in how you two kiss this time around that ignites the fire in his stomach brighter than before—soft, delicate fingers tracing over his cheekbones as you tilt your head and melt your silken lips into his—tiny, satisfied whimpers escaping you when his palms smooth the skirt of your dress up to your hips, run along your thighs and grope at the soft flesh of your ass.
prompted by his warm touch, you grind down into him again, pulling away ever so slightly to breathe out your wants, needs over his lips.
“w-wanna, i wan’, haithammm—“
“c’mon, use your words. i know they’re, h-hah, know they’re in there.”
you whimper, cheeks hot and head dizzy when he asserts himself, “wanna fuck, haithie, want your cum s’bad,” it comes out a pitiful whine, one that al haitham realizes the pain behind when you take his pinky in your hold and guide his palm from your ass to your tummy. “in here… wan’ it in here.”
there’s no way you don’t know the effect your words and the way you say them has on your boyfriend—it’s beyond torturous hearing you say how you want him in you, cockhead knocking at your cervix and balls heavy over the swell of your ass and his seed filling your womb and oozing out of you in creamy globs that drivel and stick to your thighs and—god, al haitham just can’t stave off the orgasm that hits him, “fuck, i’m—!”
before you can ask him what the matter is, he groans, loud and low into your mouth, a tiny squeak escaping you when he bucks his hips up into you unexpectedly, each painfully erotic thrust of his punctuated by the bounce of your body.
you’re quick to realize what’s going on with him when you feel his open mouth puffing out hot air and choked expletives onto your skin, fingers lightly digging into your back as he fists the lace fabric of your dress so tightly you can feel them tremble. 
and then there’s his cock twitching about in this shorts, thick, creamy ropes spilling from his slit; the thought is dizzying, it heats you up, and you can only latch onto al haitham’s arms to steady yourself.
when you look down to where your crotch meets his, you’re greeted by the sight you expected—a dark patch spreading along the seam of your lover’s slacks, the dampness seeping through until you can feel it through the gusset of your panties and slathered as strokes of glaze over the apex of your thighs.
your lover falls back onto the bed almost instantaneously as he comes down from his high, covering up the growing blush on his cheeks and ears with his forearm, shame settling into his bones while he slowly regains his full consciousness from cumming—hard—shuffling his hips around uncomfortably from the hot, sticky feeling in his pants.
it has you giggling shyly—a cute, playfully innocent sound that makes al haitham’s heart skip several beats.
“you… you’re just a little minx, aren’t you?”
nuh uh, ‘m not! is whispered into his palm when you bring his hand up to your lips to place a long kiss to his wrist, trailing them up to his fingers before you lean over him and lay another one to the underside of his jaw. 
he moans when you wiggle your cunt over his still-aching cock. he stills wants more.
and you’ll give him more, you'd give him anything he wanted, pull the moon down to the earth if he’d asked, anything, everything—and so, you lift yourself up off his lap, sink onto your knees in between his spread legs and run your palms up his sinewy thighs. 
he tenses under your sensual touch and you have to bite back a moan when he finds his way to your hair, lithe fingers brushing free strands from your face before he gently takes your twin-tails in either hand. 
kisses follow in the trail of your warm touch: a kiss to his knee, another one halfway up the inside of his thigh, and a final one to the bulge of his crotch, wet salt spreading over your lips that you lick up and swallow with a satisfied hum, smiling at how his hips roll up into the air.
“can i clean you up, haitham?”
he peeks down at you when your angelic voice reaches his ears, and for the first time, al haitham begins to doubt himself.
he wonders whether maybe letting you get on your knees for him was a mistake, because when you let a glob of spit fall from your lips onto his twitchy bulge and lean down to lick it off—the white glow of your halo shining brighter than ever— he thinks he just might cum again.
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violettelueur · 2 years
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— 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 ∞
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SUMMARY. congratulations, you have reached friendship level four with a certain man. what to know what he says about you to the traveller?
CHARACTERS. alhaitham, kamisato ayato, tartaglia (childe), diluc ragnvider, kaeya alberich
PRONOUNS. she/her
TW. mentions of breakdown (in alhaitham's part)
AUTHOR NOTE. been a while huh? but i can't help but feel like my writing magic has completely gone but maybe i need a change of topic to bring it back, but i will give you this free coffee before i will probably announce something about the blog soon...
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༉‧₊˚. ALHAITHAM
ABOUT LOVER - BEFORE FALLING IN LOVE
Now, what would you like to know about the manager of Puspa Café? Y/N was once a talented student and researcher at the Akademiya before she walked off. She was notorious for burning all her research before the Grand Sage had the chance to obtain them but even after that, all the students within the Akademiya have nothing but praises about her, always coming into the cafe for a chance to have a tutor session with the famous ex-researcher…some might even say her wisdom rivals against most beings but she would tell you to not disrespect.
ABOUT LOVER - FELL IN LOVE
Don’t you think you are asking too much about her? Yes, Y/N is someone I hold dear but other than that, I rather not say anything more than that…it’s a private matter between me and her.
[Tighnari - About Alhaitham’s Lover
He’s like a hawk around her like we get it, Y/N is your lover. However, I understand why he is protective of her, after her infamous breakdown back at the Akademiya, she has never been the same. Never smiled or laugh cheerfully like she did back when she was a student, but ever since her relations with Alhaitham, she seems to slowly get back to her old self…don’t tell anyone I told you this but every time he sees her, he suddenly shines like a Nilotpala Lotus.]
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༉‧₊˚. KAMISATO AYATO
ABOUT LOVER - BEFORE FALLING IN LOVE
Lady Y/N is no stanger to the Kamisato Clan, matter of fact, she also friends with Ayaka but due to her being one of the adopted daughters of the Kujou Clan, she is extremely busy…yet, she doesn’t seem close to her parental figures at all. As much as Kujou Sara has gratitude to old man Kujou, Y/N seems to despise him more than ever…maybe me and her have more in common than I originally thought.
ABOUT LOVER - FELL IN LOVE
Me and Lady Y/N have been engaged for a while, hehe. It was kept a secret between the both of us before Y/N found the right time to break away from the Kujou Clan without any issues. The old man couldn’t believe what he was hearing once I came in and took her back to the Kamisato estate, what a sight it was. I am more than delighted to have her by my side for a lifetime.
[Kamisato Ayaka - About Kamisato Ayato’s Lover
I’ve known my brother had an eye for Y/N for quite some time, it’s actually quite funny to see him subtly stumble on his words when he doesn’t know it. When I heard of their engagement, I was so delighted to hear that she was going to be my sister, now I have another person to make sure my brother takes care of himself.]
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༉‧₊˚. TARTAGLIA
ABOUT LOVER - BEFORE FALLING IN LOVE
What would you like to know about Y/N, comrade? I could give you pages upon pages about her and it still wouldn’t be enough. Y/N is a childhood friend of mine that I hold dear, she’s very close with my siblings as they see her as an older sister. Ah…I still remember the days when she would smack my head whenever I did something she said was ‘stupid’...kind of miss that feeling.
ABOUT LOVER - FELL IN LOVE
It was actually Sonia who made me realise that I was in love with Y/N. Actually, I think I already knew deep down but was worried due to my involvement with the Fatui, but she’s a kind-heared soul that accepts me in every way! Why is my forehead red? Oh, comrade, make sure not to get on her bad side…she’s quite strong.
[Zhongli - About Tartaglia’s Lover
Sometimes I wonder how that rascal was able to capture the heart of Miss Y/N, but I admire his enthusiasm when she comes up in conversation. Knowing him, he would show off Y/N in any chance he got and I’m surprised he didn’t drag her to Liyue to do so.]
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༉‧₊˚. DILUC RAGNVIDER
ABOUT LOVER - BEFORE FALLING IN LOVE
Y/N? She sometimes volunteers at the tavern when she has the free time but she mostly works with Lisa as a librarian. She’s quite reliable if she ever wants to join the Knights of Favonius but she said she rather not get into much physical work…but I feel like she knows too much about things - actually, let me apologise, I shouldn’t have said that about her.
ABOUT LOVER - FELL IN LOVE
Y/N? She’s doing perfectly fine…What’s new? Me and her have gotten closer over the past time and decided to commit to a romantic relationship, it’s nervewracking but at the same time, it’s nice not having to walk alone after a long time…It’s quite peaceful.
[Kaeya Alberich - About Dilic Ragnvider’s Lover
Sometimes I wonder how Y/N has fun with Diluc. Like, what are the dates like? How do the conversations flow between them? How does she even giggle within his presence when he is as dead as a frying pan? But…It’s nice to see how much Diluc is opening up again.]
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༉‧₊˚. KAEYA ALBERICH
ABOUT LOVER - BEFORE FALLING IN LOVE
Oh? Don’t tell me you have eyes for Y/N too. Hahaha, well sorry, she caught my eye first…maybe next time after my…..fiftieth rejection?!
ABOUT LOVER - FELL IN LOVE
Hahaha, of course I won at the end. I managed to steal her heart and now she has become my lover. Being with her is like taking a sip of the most expensive sparkling wine. Divine.
[Diluc Ragnvider - About Kaeya Alberich’s Lover
From what I heard he had been bothering her for some time and often comes to rant to me about them. But after she accepted that one date, her opinion has somewhat changed. You see, she still gets annoyed but it’s more of a worried annoyance. I just hope he doesn’t stress her out too much.]
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© violettelueur 2022 - all rights are reserved to violettelueur. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarise, translate or screenshot my work : this will also include other social media/writing platforms like AO3, Wattpad, TikTok and many more.
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bluexiao · 1 year
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#second lead syndrome… or is it really?
–when they couldn’t confess their love for you, thinking you love someone else / seeing you with someone, looking in love, how would they react?
CHARACTERS. Albedo, Al-Haitham, Ayato, Cyno, Heizou, Kazuha, Tighnari, Venti, Wanderer / Scaramouche, Xiao, Zhongli; gn! Reader
THEMES. Some angst, some crack, and some fluff, (pick your fighter); non-established relationship (yall are not together, just friends)
NOTES. first ever multi hc for this year! yayy happy new year everyone~
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ZHONGLI knew he was a god, and you weren’t. And even still, a part of him dreaded—desired you in a way that he never thought he would in a human. You were supposed to be one of his people.
But now he loves you more than that. And there only lies the question if you love him too.
Yet despite the dread to hold you in his arms and to proclaim of such mortal feelings he had attained for you, he holds back and forces himself to watch from afar. For a god like him has no reason to meddle with the fate of humans like you—no matter how he claims to be a mortal himself with the name he bears now.
And so, all he could do was watch you from afar, eyes fixed as if he was watching a theatre play unfoldon a stage that he chose to be an audience to, whereas the main lovers fall for each other, and all he could do was watch.
But then your eyes suddenly met, your smile like the sun that scorched his being, a gentle wave with your haand as you cal his name; “Zhongli! Can you come over here, will you?” It wasn’t even his real name, merely an identity he had chosen to keep as a result of wanting to live a mortal life.
A mortal life.
Maybe he should try living more with that—with you, he hopes.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
XIAO has no use for love. Such a measly thing it is—to devote oneself to another with just mere feelings and empty words of promises.
And so Xiao stands on the top of the inn, looking down, his spear nowhere to be found, arms folded over his chest, and gaze directly focused–your way.
You were talking and laughing at a certain human, looking ever so comfortable as you usually do with him–or maybe you were always like this to others, and that includes him.
Then, as if you had sensed his presence, you looked up to where he was, but he was far gone, disappearing as if he was never there. If he had only stayed and seen the frown on your face, he wouldn’t have had to waste his time hiding away from you.
Xiao, he soon realizes, does have a use for love, as this ache inside his chest is something he cannot quell just by merely equipping his spear and defeating monsters.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
WANDERER was never such a patient man. And besides, he isn’t even human.
It took a while to accept his… circumstances, and once he does, he will be very obvious with his so-called “feelings”, usually sticking to your side most of the time and glaring at practically anyone who would so much as dare to glance your way.
And as much as he is always near you, he will eventually notice whoever you will pay attention to–especially ones that would be constantly haggling over your sight. But he doesn’t do anything about it–doesn’t confess, doesn’t try to talk and ask to confirm his suspicions. Does he need to? No. He does not need affirmations because he is perfect enough to not need one–a perfect being who did not need such things as “love”, or “partner”s.
The words will die down in his mind when he sees you with someone else, however, form already right beside you as he finds himself glaring at whoever it was, “Oh realy? I can do that ten times better than you can,” he’d bark, already mocking at everything that the person does or claims themselves to be. Don’t misunderstand the Wanderer, he just thinks that this stranger is just too useless, you don’t need to waste your time over them.
‘But they’re human, unlike you,’ a voice inside his mind would say, but bites his lips, not letting that slip through his mouth.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
VENTI sings praises and is full of love. He is the god of freedom and the wind. He is a bard for goodness’ sake.
“I am but a simple bard, how in Teyvat would they even see a person such as I am worthy of them?” he cried theatrically as he took a chug of his wine–or whatever it was in the bottle in his hand. But no matter how much he looks, the weight in his heart was very much real nonetheless, the memory of you with someone else plaguing his mind.
A god such as him losing to a mortal over your love. What could anyone possibly say if they hear of such a tale? Perhaps he may just end up writing a song of his broken heart to somehow ease the pain. At least thatw ay, he could Mora…
But one must never underestimate a god’s love… as eh might find himself crawling back to your arms tomorrow morning.
He has a lifetime to win your heart, after all.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
TIGHNARI felt his feelings of care for you were normal. Of course, maybe he only favors you among the rest, even against his fellow rangers.
And something so normal is not supposed to bother him even in times when he’s supposed to be focusing. The forest is an unpredictable and dangerous place.
“What seems to be bothering you, Master?”
He halts from his tracks and turns to the other, “It’s nothing, Collei.”
But it’s not really “nothing” if he ends up walking away after reprimanding you and one of the other rangers for “lazing around”. And yes, that same one who had been lurking around near you lately, especialy when he’s not around.
Clearly, there must be something going on between that person and you. Of course, he could not possibly let anyone be so lax with this work, even if it’s you.
“You’re probably jealous, aren't you, Master? Aren’t you and Y/n dating?”
Colei can see and atone to how the other freezes—his tail and ears as well, and all he could do was watch as Collei giggles at him while nudging him with her elbows.
“Master and Y/n look very good together, and don’t worry, I’ll keep it a secret if that’s what you want!”
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
For once, KAZUHA was out of words.
Peace can be associated with silence, but silence is not always at peace–and now, the wind was completely silent.
“Not going to Y/n, kid?” Beidou stands next to him with crossed arms as they both have eyes focused your way. She sighs while she shakes her head, “Are you letting them go that easily?”
He feels his stomach drop, but the ghost of a smile on his lips masks the feelings he has inside. “They don’t belong to anyone but themselves, and that includes me,” he looks away and turns around, the breeze slapping his face just as much as reality does, “they are free to love, even if it will not be me.”
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
HEIZOU knows everything.
But this one he just found out is probably one of the things he just wished he didn’t find out.
Well, technically, it was a good thing!, he says to himself. After all… he always teased you and now, he probably did the right thing instead of… telling the truth.
Ah, by all means, he is no hypocrite. But, he does wonder when you had liked another person, and why? Surely, he had made himself known to you, with your daily meetups and banters, and you were even his “partner” in a case once. Perhaps he relied in his ability far too much that he forgot purpose for all of his efforts.
The least he could do was to support you in the sidelines… right? Surely he doesn’t like you that much to remain helpless in this situation.
When he saw you with that person the next day, he knew his resolve was far gone.
He must definitely find out what made you fall in love with this person…
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
CYNO does not know what he was going to do. And so, what does he do?
He hides in the corner and observes.
Of course, he can just walk right past both you and the person who you’ve been eating lunch with for the past hour, but for some reason, he can’t. Something about the scene right in front of him makes him want to interrogate the person; what their job was, who their family are, what other things they do—they cannot possibly hang with you if they have a bad record. All the more, what if they have bad intentions towards you?
And so, with his mind made up, that was what he does. At least, intends to do until you saw him and he met your eyes.
“Cyno! There you are, I’ve been waiting for you!” Once you had caled him oevr, the person scrambles up an excuse and runs away as soon as they can, even stumbling over a few times.
All Cyno could do was watch as the perosn runs away and sighs, sitting right beside you and crosses his arms.
“Who was that? What do they do? Are they from the Akademiya? I haven’t seen them before.”
“Oh, I don’t know, they just came here and sat in front of me.”
He is definitely hunting down that person until his questions are diminished.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
What AYATO wants, Ayato gets.
Of course, that does not mean that he treats everything or everyone lightly, on the contrary, he does what he can to attain anything or anyone that he sees as valuable. With someone of his caliber, it would not be too difficult to get people to turn his way.
You, however, was someone who piqued his interest. Yet despite this, he lets you be, not doing anything… until he had seen you with someone else—a retainer of another Commissioner.
He reasons with himself that he only stepped beside you and piped in to the conversation out of being wary towards the other retainer—eh coudl not possibly have you, his friend, to be too exposed with the works of the Tri-Commision now, right?—and with his position and words, the retainer soon walks away.
“Now that they are gone, what do you say about having tea with me this afternoon, Y/n? Unless you have a scheduled date with that… retainer.” He tries to mask his disbelief, and thankfuly, you didn’t notice.
He ignores how you looked away, seemingly flustered for a moment as you mumble a small “Sure… and we’re not dating, master Ayato… it’s not like that.”
He looks away with a smile. Certainly, this is far better.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ALHAITHAM is rational. Most of the time.
“O-Of course, The Scribe must be very knowledgeable, compared to a lowly person like me,” says the other person that Al-Haitham did not really catch the name of right after he just questioned the person’s intelligence (very subtly at that).
“Oh come on, you’re not lowly-“
“This is why it is important to raise our knowledge, even to the little things, as we do not know what we might encounter. If you want, I can even refer you to the Akademiya, you don’t need to thank me.”
“I-I’ll think about it… thank… I mean, see you later, Y/n… and Scribe Al-Haitham,” the person sooner leaves without any more fight.
“Hey…. What is it with you? Something ruined your morning or something?” You npeered at him and he merely looks away whilst clearing his throat.
‘We were losing our time. I wanted to eat our lunch as soon as possible. Why? Are you suposed to be on a date with that… person?”
“What? What on Teyvat are you saying?” Your reply makes him crack a smirk. Of course, he was right. How could he even think that you were dating that person… at least, he won’t let that happen.
┌───────── ·  ·  ·  · ꒰⚘݄꒱₊
ALBEDO respects you a lot. A whole lot.
Yet that respect comes with admiration, and sooner, he realizes that this admiration might have been stronger than he had thought the moment he saw you with someone else.
He does not engage, however, merely waiting until you had finished your conversation with that certain someone, looking quite joyful than any time else, more than the times you had spent with him, actually.
“Albedo! There you are,” you grinned at him after walking away, even looking back at the figure of the person you had talked to.
His eyes peers at you like a hawk, taking note of everything; with the brightness of your smile, to the shine in your eyes, and to the giggle that erupts from your lips.
Had he ever seen such qualities in your face before? He couldn’t help but question himself as you send him one as well.
“Sorry, just got immersed in the topic… shall we go?”
He forces out a smile—which seemed real nonetheless, “Of course.”
“Hm?” You tilt your head to the side, “Is something the matter?”
“Oh, it’s nothing,” he immediately answers, thinking that you probably had noticed his staring. He raises his hand and smiles, “shall we?”
He squeezes your hand when you willingly took his. Ah, maybe he could be greedy… just this time, he thinks.
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comments & reblogs are greatly appreciated! ♡
taglist on reblogs!
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aihaitahm · 10 months
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alhaitham and sweets and you
alhaitham doesnt really like sweet food. he tends to stay away from it and hate on it if its too sweet. even squirm from the thought of it. the type to buy unsweetened stuff on purpose.
until… you came along. you always ordered the sweetest and savory or spicy meals whenever you and your stoic lover go on dates. and with cute puppy eyes, you beg him to buy you the sweetest desserts or chocolates. you always make it a habit to ask if he wants some but he always shakes his head no. he still doesnt like sweet food but he is slowly liking it because of you. your taste in everything is just sweet, just like your personality.
which is why he learned a bad habit. what annoyed you was whenever he says no to your offer of a bite or sip, he then does the opposite and he takes a big bite of your sweet food or takes a big sip of your boba/shake. kinda pouts when you scold him too if you look close enough.
“haitham…! you drank almost half my boba when you said you hated sweet stuff…”
“i was simply just tasting it.”
“taste?? thats a big chunk for a taste and i asked you if you wanted a small sip. go buy your own.”
“you know i bought that for you? so it is in fact, mine technically.
besides, it tastes better when its yours… maybe because your saliva adds a distinct flavor into it.”
“haitham!”
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genshxn · 1 year
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ONCE AGAIN, I AM AWARE HALF OF THEM ARE FLAT.
featuring. alhaitham, scaramouche/wanderer, kaveh, dottore, xiao
author drivel. look at me go, i finally made the 2nd part after what.. 4/5 months? (typical me behaviour ngl). reason it's so belated is cuz the app i make these things in got messed up and the pfps all disappeared and for a long time i couldn’t be asked to fix it lmao🗿
KAVEH HAS BEEN FIXED NOW, SORRY ABOUT THAT.
contents. lots of crack, not nsfw, but it can get pretty suggestive lmao
✤ 𝐭𝐱𝐭 𝐫𝐱𝐧𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝟐
𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐰𝐨
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al haitham
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I'M FUCKING FINALLY NOT LYING THROUGH MY TEETH WHEN I WRITE THIS SHIT LETS GO
scaramouche
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this man(let) is like a victorian man when it comes to anything more than sitting next to each other and you can’t convince me otherwise.
kaveh
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to explain the nickname: kaveh -> sounds like coffee -> coffee beans
dottore
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the dottores "own(ed)" one phone between the bunch of them, despite it originally being omega's. y/n is just kinda like the communal s/o in a way. also, omega will use ~ over my dead body.
xiao
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the image used there is some beta art of xiao where he's got a vacuumed seal shirt for some reason (even more so than normal)
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earthtooz · 7 months
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in which: alhaitham resorts to lying on top of you in order to get you speaking to him again.
quick alhaitham thought i needed to get off my mind, making out at the end lol, potentially ooc
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there were a lot of things you didn’t expect when entering a relationship with alhaitham. you didn't expect him to have kaveh as a roommate, you didn’t expect him to overthrow the government, and you didn’t expect him to resort to pettiness in order to end the silent treatment you were giving him.
it’s suffocating beneath him, squished into his soft mattress with his body weight, muscles wrapped around you like a python whilst one arm is extended outwards, balancing a book. you wonder if he’s actually reading it, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself regardless, evident through the way he often turns his head to place a kiss on your exposed collarbone, burying his face into your warmth from here to there. 
for the umpteenth time, you grunt, losing your mind just a little. his body warmth was getting too much, and you’ve been lying here for who knows how long, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.
you want to protest, berate him for flattening you before shoving him off, but that would mean surrendering, and this time, you want alhaitham to be the one to give up first. 
as if hearing your thoughts, your grey-haired lover then glances up at you, sleepy gaze filtered through messy strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes. you almost cave at the domesticity of it all, only just stopping yourself from brushing his bangs away. 
“still upset?” he murmurs, putting his book face-down to wrap his arms tighter around your torso. “fine. have it your way, i’m going to nap.”
“no-” he perks up at the sound of your voice, raising an eyebrow as a mask of smugness gleams over his face. you shut your mouth immediately, cursing at yourself to slip up so easily, but you really needed to stretch out your legs and the other discomforts of lying like an unmoving plank beneath alhaitham. 
“what was that?” challenges your boyfriend. you don’t answer him, merely staring him down as he sits back, grabbing your wrists. “oh come on, i know you want to say something, out with it.” 
shaking your head, he scoffs at your stubbornness as if his isn’t just as frustrating, and gently caresses your hand. his touch is tantalising, urging you to give in, and paired with that lidded look of his, it’s practically impossible not to.
not many people get to see alhaitham like this, you realise. most know him as an indifferent, closed off, and unapproachable scribe, turned grand sage, turned scribe, yet you get the honour of seeing him as this. “talk to me already,” he demands gently, not letting his grip waver even as you keep trying to pull your hands away, only slipping away so far before he’s holding you again.
there aren’t many battles you can win against him, you know that, and one of them was a battle of strength. as he holds your wrists tight to your sides, his face so close to yours, you feel his earlier playfulness melting into something sincere. 
“are you still mad?” asks alhaitham, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as a pout appears along his lips. the response you give him is a petulant turn of your head. he sighs through his nose. “i’m sorry, okay? i was out of line, i should have listened to you, alright?”
his tone is uncharacteristically kind and warm, warm enough for you to give in to his pleas.
“you mean it?” you tease, grinning widely at him. in the blink of an eye, the tension from alhaitham’s shoulder seeps away like sand, and he sighs with relief before agreeing, a solid ‘yes’ slipping through his mouth. “then i accept your apology.”
“you minx, enjoying the sight of me like this, aren't you-” he murmurs, and you swallow his brewing snide remarks with a kiss, closing the gap by firmly pressing your lips against his. alhaitham is not surprised by your sudden affection. rather, he welcomes it, melts into you wholly as a hand holds the back of your neck to keep you against him. you're warm and precious and everything he could ever desire, so he can't help but let his hands wander, searching for more.
as your mouths slot together, there’s a delicate exchange of apologies that words cannot express; ironic, since alhaitham knows of several ways to apologise in a multitude of languages. nevertheless, he thinks that this is the best method.
with the way you move in sync with him, he can tell that this is your favourite too. 
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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yuutx · 3 months
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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐏𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐘 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆 ! (𝒜𝐿𝐻𝒜𝐼𝒯𝐻𝒜𝑀)
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al haitham x f!reader . 18+ content. ⟆ nsfw + unprotected sex/raw sex. praise kink. pussy slapping/pussy spanking (?) . creampie. clit rubbing + pinching. ⟆ mdom + fsub ⟆ not proofread ! (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)
more alhaithammm ! i know i just recently wrote a fic about him but . . . i just can't get enough. also plsss give me some suggestions on what character i should write for next,, im a little stuck lol ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !
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The slap resounded through the room, the sting of his palm against your aching cunt leaving you breathless. A moan escaped you, your head thrown back, hips canting down towards him, seeking more of the sweet, delicious friction that accompanied the sharp sting. The heat that settled between your thighs was nearly unbearable, your entire body alight with pleasure as he thrust into you, each snap of his hips sending you hurtling closer and closer to the precipice of your own pleasure. Your cunt throbbed, your belly tightening with the promise of release, the tell-tale signs that your climax was approaching. You could hardly contain the gasps and whimpers that fell from your lips, a steady stream of sounds and noises, a lewd cacophony of the sweet, delicious pleasure the man above you was providing you with.
He grunted, his brows furrowing with the effort of fucking into you, his hands gripping your hips as he guided your pussy down his cock, the way you fluttered around him so, so sinfully good. The slap of skin meeting skin rang out through the room, the sounds of your slick squelching with the force of his thrusts and the lewd noises of him fucking into you a melody to his ears. You were absolutely drenched, your arousal coating his cock and pelvis, the evidence of just how much you loved him dripping onto the sheets below you. He groaned, the sound deep and throaty, his head tilting forward to watch the way you took his cock, how your cunt swallowed him up.
His palm met the wet heat of your pussy once more, and the shock that rippled through you had you crying out, a moan tumbling from your lips. You jolted with every strike to your clit, your cunt clenching around him and only serving to spur him on. Your eyes fluttered shut, and he clicked his tongue, displeased by your disobedience.
"Look at me." He commanded, and the sheer force of his voice had your eyes snapping open, your gaze meeting his. He smirked, the look in his eyes positively sinful, his fingers coming to pinch your clit as he continued to drive into you. The pressure that had been steadily building inside you began to crest, the promise of an orgasm looming just out of reach. Your eyes were locked on his, the look of pure, unadulterated bliss written on your features driving him absolutely wild. He leaned forward, his nose brushing against yours as he captured your lips in a bruising kiss.
"Cum for me, sweet girl. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock. I want to feel you fall apart." He whispered against your lips, the sensual cadence of his words sending you spiraling. His pace picked up, his hand working furiously at your clit, his fingers pressing against the sensitive nub just the way he knew you liked it. The way he spoke to you, the low, gravelly quality of his voice as he encouraged you, had your body trembling. You were so close, the tight coil of pleasure in your stomach winding ever tighter, and you chased after your high, desperate for the mind-numbing bliss he was so readily giving you.
Your hips bucked desperately, your body trembling with the force of your oncoming orgasm. Your walls fluttered around him, your body tightening, and his mouth descended upon yours again, swallowing up your moans as you came. You cried out, the intensity of the pleasure too much for you, your cunt convulsing and your back arching. You came with a sob, your climax washing over you, the feeling unlike anything else. Alhaitham's movements grew erratic, his thrusts stuttering as he followed you into oblivion, a low groan spilling from his lips as his release crashed over him. His seed spurted inside you, hot and thick, his hips stilling as he filled you up. You sighed, your body slumping, the pleasure making you feel boneless, sated, and absolutely blissful.
"Such a good girl for me." He cooed, his lips pressing a kiss to your forehead. He pulled out of you, the drag of his cock along your sensitive walls causing you to whimper. You winced as he pulled out, your cunt aching, the sensitivity too much. He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your cheek.
"Oh? Painful already?"
You flushed, unable to form a response. His hand caressed the wet folds of your pussy, and he chuckled at the way you flinched.
"Poor thing," He said, the smirk on his lips betraying his true intentions. "Perhaps you shouldn't have been such a naughty girl then, hm?"
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abyssruler · 2 years
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you: my life sucks. i should’ve just stayed in my dad’s balls.
al haitham: it’s a common misconception, actually. you weren’t the sperm competing to get fertilized with your other, more deformed siblings. you were the egg cell that chose which sperm would fertilize you to become what you are now.
you: so i’ve been making bad decisions before i was even born?
al haitham: …
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hwaitham · 7 months
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𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 𓈒 ˖ ࣪ 𝜗𝜚 al haitham x sub!f!reader. nsfw — mdni. established relationship ノ period sex ノ daddy kink ノ sweetheart + princess + baby as petnames ノ lotsa praise n' haithie is vry doting :3 dis is a rewrite ノ repost from my old blog ! any interactions are super loved n' appreciated (∩ˊᵕˋ∩ ྀི)
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you think the way al haitham touches you so tenderly and so cautiously—like your skin is as fragile as the petals of the padisarahs he picks for you, like you’re some prey animal with your innocent fawn eyes and twitchy bunny nose—is enough to make you weep.
and, oh, it is; and, yes, you realize you’re prone to tearful outbursts, but when he caresses you like this, with his thumb sowing slick hearts over your clit and his lips hot on the swell of your breast and his leaky cockhead webbed with red as it works your little cunt apart, when he slathers all his love for you—unadulterated, pure—over your spine, how can you expect yourself to not cry?
“crying already, sweetheart?” your lover's lips curve up into a soft smile when you choke on a sob as you nuzzle your cheek over his, a warm pool of crystalline pressing into his skin and drivelling down his jaw. he pulls away to coo at you sweetly, thumbing at the dew of your lashes as he watches on in awe of your emotional frailty. "delicate little thing, aren't you?"
he shuffles around on his forearms into a more comfortable position on top of you, elbows digging into the mattress as he cradles your face within his palms.
jaded cerulean gazes between your eyes, and then your lips, and then he’s kissing you slowly—exploring the concavities of your mouth with his tongue, stealing tiny mewls and the other pretty noises you make in an attempt to distract you from the painful contractions in your tummy.
and when he begins to stretch you open with his cockhead, easing his way in and moulding your puffy walls to his girth, the ache of your cramps dissipate into barely-there pinpricks, the pleasure candied by slow swirls of his hips into your g-spot and his thumb digging into your puffy nub. al haitham’s ministrations coax a sore sob from your throat, your ankles unlocking around his waist in favour of lightly tapping your toes against the bottom of his back because it feels like heaven. 
“feels like heaven, hm?” he muses and cocks a brow, drinking up the dreamy glaze over your pupils and the sinful pout of your lips and the adorable twitch of your nose. 
“uh huh, feels s’good, daddy,” your voice comes out a pitchy sigh as you cling to him, dainty fingers dipping into his clavicles and the arch of your back deepening when he continues to grind into your sensitive spots with care, lewd squelches of blood and slick making your entire body swell with heat. and you can’t help but be the slightest bit embarrassed by it all, by the mess you make over the towels he’s laid under you and the sticky red that clings to his pubes and the needy aches of your heart because you just yearn for him terribly, curving your body up into his and grappling lazily at the tufts of silver that curl just around the nape of his neck. “you take such g-good care of me…”
the cute sniffles and stuffiness of your voice as you hiccup over your words pull a guttural groan of a curse from him, his head tossed back and cock throbbing painfully as more webs of glistening blood drip and ooze and coat his length, materializing as a creamy ring around the base when it mixes with his pre.
as if to punctuate your words with actions, he leans down to kiss over the hot plane of your chest, running his tongue along a pert nipple, shushing your whimpers sweetly while he pushes his cock deep, deep, deep—all the way until his leaky tip is greeted by the soft sponge of your cervix.
“fuck—well, that’s my job, isn’t it? sweet girl like you deserves all the care in the world.” 
honeyed words slip out of your right ear just as they enter your left, and you can all but helplessly tug him closer to your chest with limp limbs—clingy and desperate to feel every inch of his body against yours. he swallows your mewls with soft kisses as he fucks your womb and grinds into your clit, the mingled pleasure and pain coaxing drip after drip of thick red from each clamp of your pussy that seems to get increasingly tighter.
"a-awh, s'okay, 'm not going anywhere, baby." his voice is a gentle croon, sweet and encouraging and the edges to his words are the slightest bit teasing. it makes you whimper—realizing how lucky you are to be able to experience al haitham like this; soft and doting and deeply in love.
with his low groans against the hot shell of your ear, his palms wet over the small of your waist and his cock plunging into you as far as it can go, the bubble that grows in the pit of your tummy finally pops, and you cum—tiny, slurred mewls of daddydaddydaddy buried into his chest and your toes curled and, oh, al haitham thinks it’s so cute how your arms lock around his neck to hold him close, overstimulated as your hips jerk and body jostles helplessly with each rock of his hips, yet still hungry for more, more of him.
“daddy, p-please—” you choke on a whimper, horribly in love with your daddy and blissed out from your orgasm and all that—drunk on his cock taking up every inch of space in your twitchy cunt and dripping hot pre into your womb. 
he continues to thrust into you languidly and rub stars and hearts, spell out his name over your clit, his fingers stained as red as the base of his cock. there is no urgency to his movements, no rush to wash over your slow tides of pleasure—he’ll drag it out for as long as he needs to, as he wants to; what’s losing a couple of hours of his workday in favour of tending to the owner of his glowing heart?
“s’okay, princess; daddy’s gonna take all the pain away.”
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celestewritesstuff · 2 years
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Desires
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Scribe!Haitham has an interaction with you(Gn!Librarian!Reader) that ends up with him seeing your panties, and he goes to his office across the library to relieve himself.
(CW: Jerking off, a little bit of exhibitionism (you can’t see him, he can see you), reader climbs up a ladder and Haitham sees their panties, usage of sir, reader is wearing panties and a skirt)
Working in the Akademiya as a librarian had plenty of benefits. For one, you were respected amongst the people of Sumeru not only because you worked for their proudest attribute, but because you graduated from there too. Many people knew you, and recognized you in the streets whenever you went out. Your co-workers were the pleasant type of people that anyone could get along with (thankfully). However, you had one perk of being a librarian that couldn’t be topped.
Seeing the General Scribe almost every day.
He had plenty of work to do most of the time, often going straight through the library to his office room across the hallway, but it didn’t stop you from stumbling in your shelf work whenever you glanced up to see his toned body strut across the room. Too many nights you had spent up late, thinking about all the unholy things he could do to you, and too many nights you went to sleep restless because only he could really satisfy you. Occasionally during work hours, if you were lucky, he would ask you where some obscure book was of sorts, and then you both got to talking about it. Today was one of those wonderful days.
“(Y/N), how have you been?”
Your head popped up from behind a desk full of books from some student that had been studying previously that night, glancing around for whom you hoped had called your name. Your eyes met his piercing green ones from across the table and you smiled.
“Oh, I’ve been alright, Sir Haitham! And you?” You clasped your hands in front of you shyly.
“You know, the same. Nothing to report as usual. Do you happen to know where Ancient Eremite Customs Volume XII is?”
Your heart dropped a little as he revealed the nature of your exchange, just needing a book again. If only he talked to you simply to… talk to you. But someone with such an important job as General Scribe probably didn’t have time for someone such as a librarian.
“Uhm, I-I’m not quite sure, let me check.” You answered. You walked briskly to the index in the middle of the room, flipping through the pages and, eventually, spotting the location of the book. Returning to Haitham, you informed him you found the book.
“It’s in section 1C row three, i can grab it for you.”
“Oh, no, that’s alright, I can get it. I just needed to know where it was.” He headed for the ladder, but you stopped him.
“You should know, of all people, that only the librarians can use the ladders. It would be a big hazard if just anyone could go up these.” You gestures toward the tall ladder.
“Fine, fine. Just don’t fall, M’kay?” You nodded as you began to ascend. You counted on your muscle memory to keep you upright as the interaction had your mind fuzzy.
What you didn’t count on was Haitham, below you, getting one of the nicest views of his life. Did you choose to wear such a cute but revealing skirt that day just to tease him? He knew such a busy person as a librarian wouldn’t have time for someone like him, but your lace panties were testing his resolve. He tried to tear his eyes off of the sight above him, feeling himself get hard. Did you know that pastel green was one of his favorite colors to see on someone? Surely you didn’t know what you were doing to him, right? The innocence wasn’t an act?
You climbed the ladder swiftly, all attention on getting the book for Haitham and not on the breeze greeting your regions. Maybe if you retrieved the book quickly, you would have time to speak with him just about… things. Your trip up and down the ladder was record worthy, but not fast enough to not affect the man who you were now handing the book too.
“Here you go, Haitham, Sir. What did you need the book for?” Your eyes gazed into his as his dazed expression snapped back to life.
“Uh, Oh, I-Uh, Thanks.” He stumbled, almost dropping the book before scurrying off like a guilty pet to his office. He didn’t realize he hadn’t answered your question until he had thrown the book onto his desk and sat down, hands running through his hair. He was glad the glass door was mostly translucent, unable to see movement on either side unless one was right next to it. This was safe if only for a few spots here and there of actual glass, for architectural design. Through these he could barely see your confused expression from across the library, your knitted eyebrows making his mind race. He wondered, what other expressions could he glean from that pretty face of yours? His pants felt tighter by the minute.
You, on the other hand, felt very brushed aside. So, as you always do when you’re sad, you got to work putting away the books that you were working on before. Soon enough the interaction from before was a small speck in your mind as you began with the ladder once again.
Within his office, Haitham threw his head back as he released himself from his confinements below, his cock springing free. The cool air rushed to greet him and he fisted himself lazily. No matter how much someone wanted to, they’d have to be pretty obvious if they were watching him or even wanted to know what he was doing. Haitham, in his desperation for some release, knew that he would be safe enough to jerk one out before he got to work. His eyes were glued on you through the clear glass as you worked. You, oblivious to the man across the room thirsting after you in his office, continued to shelf efficiently. His eyes traveled all across your body as you worked. He wished he could rip your skirt and panties off of you right that instant. His hand began working faster as he remembered the view from earlier, and he hoped he would get to see it again. His shirt, held up by his teeth, revealed his abs contracting and relaxing as his breathing became more uneven the more he thought of all he could do to you. He leaned back on his chair, continuing to get off on the image of you from before and seeing you in the distance from his window. His eyes closed as he sped up, throwing his head back again, chasing his high.
“F-Fuck, (Y/N)…” He moaned out lazily. He felt his balls contract as he climaxed, shooting his cum all over his desk as he imagined what you would look like bent over it, begging for him to cum. How your quivering figure would look all fucked out beneath him. A thin layer of sweat coated his figure. As he shot his last rope, he heard someone open the door.
“Did… did you call for me, Haitham Sir?” You spoke as you opened the door, “Are you alright?” Your wide eyes met with the scene in front of you, and you watched as his pupils darkened. He motioned for you to walk over.
“I sure fuckin’ will be the second you get over here,” He growled.
part 2 (the right link ig??)
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bluexiao · 1 year
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#his secret lover 
— just a series where you are their secret lover… but you didn’t know because you weren’t from teyvat after all! (until you have memories of him and you every time you two touch) 
CHARACTERS. self aware! Isekai! gn! Reader; Al-Haitham, Heizou, Tighnari, Scaramouche / Wanderer
THEMES. light sagau (self aware genshin au), isekai, fluff/crack, questionable but real established relationship, suggestive (light and in a few of them…), domestic (kind of inspired by several manhwas lmao), light angst on Tighnari’s?? 
NOTES. I planned for this to be a series so yep if there is anyone else you want me to cover, just hmu. 
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SCARAMOUCHE / WANDERER
You have to give him all the props, he had hidden you quite well. 
Even as he was a Fatui Harbinger of a high enough ranking–for others, he was able to keep your identity a secret. Thus, the moment you opened your eyes and found yourself in the land of Teyvat without even knowing, you didn’t know about this. 
Being transported to Inazuma was one thing that did take you a whileto notice until you came face to face with the tracks to Mt. Yougou and officially got to know a Yae Miko–an individual everyone seemed to have great respect for and the fox ears and tail were ones you have never seen in a person ever–at least not one that looked so real and looked exactly like a character in a game you’ve played in! 
What Yae Miko and you talked about came in a blur because you were too much in your head, thinking about how everything suddenly made sense but didn’t at the same time. Yet you did uncover something in your identity in such a small conversation–it was that she knew you. Very well, that is. You felt that it was weird for her to suddenly come up and talk to you all of a sudden, all the more when she asked how you and your lover were–you almost let out a “Who in the world is my lover-Wait, I have one?!” but you managed to shut yourself up and said that you two were doing alright. Biggest mistake of your life. 
The moment you saw Scaramouche, you didn’t even recognize him. He wore such different clothes that you barely had the time to stare and get a grip, not until he was right in front of you–actually, he marched right in front of you. 
“Wash that stupid look on your face, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 
For a moment, you were dumbfounded over the fact that he looked exactly like Scaramouche but not at all–was it the clothes? Or was it the soft look on his face that he kept on for a few seconds until he wipes it off—and you didn’t even have much time to respond before he adds on. 
“And that fox is acting weirdly, did you say anything to her? Don’t tell me you slipped up and told her that you’re seeing me,” he sends you a look and your mind goes in spirals all the more. 
You’re seeing who now?! 
Seeing as you haven’t answered him yet and you were merely staring at him, this time, a different expression comes across his face, disappearing as fast as it had appeared. 
“What in the world has gotten into you?” his voice turns softer this time, “is something wrong?” 
He will actually end up pulling you aside and interrogating you for what had happened. That is! Until you remembered everything! The moment he held your hand, every single memory you have had with him came rushing in and you became dizzy that he will suddenly decide to just take you home. 
You now came to recall everything that had occurred and everything fell into place, only now, you had memories of your memories in your real life–or was it really real??—back on Earth whilst having memories of your life in Teyvat. You remember receiving secret letters from Scaramouche and hearing all about his plans, and it momentarily stopped only to receive one yesterday, stating that he would come back home finally. 
You still weren’t sure if you would tell him this is a game… but what is the use though? You haven’t gone through this timeline as well…
“Kuni… I lived two lives.” For some reason, it didn’t sit well for you to keep anything from him–it seems so wrong, so…weird. A month ago, he was just a character in a game you were playing for quite some time and now, he was here, right in front of you. 
His lips were on your cheek as he takes a breath and the air hits your skin, tickling you ever so slightly. 
“Is that so?” you couldn’t tell if he was taking you seriously or not, even more so when you felt him encircle his hands on your waist and pull you closer to his face, where you could meet his eyes that narrowed and the corners of his lips quirk up, “then have you kissed someone else in your other life? Other than me?” 
You heard the slight pause in between his questions and felt him lean closer to you. “Do they kiss you as good as I do?” 
Actually, he meant to ask if you loved someone else other than him or not, but no, he can’t let you think of someone else when you have him right beside you. And besides… if you had another life, then that means he has nothing to worry about in this life… right? 
That thought haunts him every night. 
AL-HAITHAM
Being in a relationship with The Scribe is a big thing already. And all the more so with a person like him. 
After all, it is not so much of a secret that he does bear a good appearance, albeit his personality, he was someone who was particularly popular to ladies and men alike. Maybe for different reasons but most were the same. 
For you, one look at him and you could tell that everyone was right–he really was attractive, but no one would have the guts to come near him with his presence alone. You were only getting used to being transported into this world when you came across the Akademiya and he so suddenly passed by you. You couldn’t stop yourself from admitting that eye contact with him sent shivers down your spine and made you momentarily freeze in place. Even more so when he oh-so conveniently greeted you with a small smirk. 
“Good morning, Y/n,” it was a ghost of a smile–it almost seemed like it was just a sight only for you. 
Only, it was the truth, and you found out about it when you opened the door to your “home” and saw the face of the person that almost made you have a heart attack just moments ago. 
“Oh-I mean, hi! Uhm-” you struggled to formulate anything else from your mouth that you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. You wanted to ask him why he was at your door when he chuckled right at you. When you openly stared at him, however, you could see his brow suddenly raise in confusion. 
“Y/n… as far as I like the attention and seeing your flustered face, I am not that much interested in holding a staring contest against you at the door to our home,” he clearly was caught off guard as he clears his throat and looks away, “your home… pardon me for forgetting.” 
He will definitely feel like something had happened to make you act quite weirdly, but he would not come up with a conclusion so suddenly, however, as he is beginning to gather up his observations, you eventually return back to “normal”, where you don’t freeze up whenever he shows up in front of you, or whenever he tries to lean in for a kiss, or any other physical intimacy that you seem to stutter about. 
Actually, for him, it did feel like you were back in your past self–easily getting flustered or embarrassed. For you, though, the memories that the “Teyvat You” had accumulated slowly but surely came to you each day you spent with Al-Haitham, almost too calculative that you felt like everything that had happened seemed to be much more real than the “Earth You”. 
And because of this, you begin to open up to your lover about your experience and decided to ask for his opinion. With all the time you had spent with him, you became much more comfortable with having to talk to him without stuttering and enough for you to tell the truth of your identity–but not enough to tell him that this world is merely inside a game. Fortunately, he would not be able to figure this out as this is something very unpresidential. 
“Are you saying that another soul… but it’s still you… entered this body, and now you have memories of you here, as well as you back in your world,” he did not seem to end it in a question, more like a demand for you to tell him more or for you to explain it to him clearly without having a hard time to do so yourself–he could not really blame you… it is not such a “normal” occurrence that even he wouldn’t be able to explain himself if it had happened to him, not that he would be as inaccurate as you are. 
He does try to help you uncover the truth and adjust well! After all, he is quite thirsty for knowledge (as much as you were to hi-) and there would be no things left unturned, especially considering that it was about you. 
He does find it odd whenever you do a couple of things that you did not use to do—such as say a couple of words that are not in Teyvat’s vocabulary, from what he knows of—but he eventually grows accustomed to them, just as quick as you become accustomed to this “new life”—or it wasn’t really. 
He does ask you a couple of questions (a LOT) about how your life was in the other world. You tell him of all the technologies and inventions you came to know and well you should not be that much surprised if he ends up covering them for his research or whatever. So do make sure to keep some of that knowledge to yourself! 
TIGHNARI
The moment you wake, you found yourself lying in the middle of the forest, all alone, yet surrounded by mushrooms that you knew for sure you had never seen before. 
They had brighter shades, compared to the ones you normally eat, which means-
“Are they poisonous? Or worse…” you mutter to yourself, horrified as you look at each of the mushrooms. Then everything turns black. 
When you wake again, you were greeted by a different view–a hut, precisely… or it seems like it. You had a familiar feeling set in once you looked around you, however, but as soon as you heard the slightest bit of movement, you instinctively closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep. 
“No point trying to act like you’re still unconscious, Y/n, you may open your eyes.” 
The voice—it felt too familiar that even if you wanted to pretend a little bit more, you couldn’t help but be curious–why was it even familiar when-
Your jaw fell and your mouth hang open as soon as you came face to face with him–a man with long ears (fox ears? What are they-A fennec? Why does he look like… someone…) and his sense of fashion being… quite an eh- 
“Huh? What is it? Is there something on my face?” 
Now that you had heard his voice again, you came to realize that he does sound like the same person he looks very much alike to–Tighnari from that game you’ve played. 
What in the- 
“I must be dreaming right now, aren’t I?”
He sends a look at you and with crossed arms, says, “If you were, I can say I’m quite flattered to have you dream about me, but you are not dreaming so my gratitude is rather useless.” 
And as he casually tries to check your temperature and your vitals, his touch makes you jump with a sudden “memory” that you two apparently had… of the times he took care of you after you appear to have been either injured or came across some weird mushrooms–which also seems to be the case this time around. 
“What is it? Did it hurt when I touched you?” He does notice this and does not hesitate to ask you, but with all that was happening, you failed to notice the concerned look in his eyes but it did not stop the pressure that was building in your chest—so you lied. “No… I’m fine, just a bit jumpy… ‘s all.” 
He may raise a brow at this but he brushes it off, and in the end, you might not be able to say the truth to him because… well, you didn’t have a chance! Every time you try to do so, it’s either he holds your hand or you hold his and a memory pops up and everything in your plan gets messed up! 
He’s sort of a physical lover. You wouldn’t be able to believe it either, especially since you didn’t really know much about him until you came here and realized that it actually makes a lot of sense for him to be so. 
He initiates a lot of it too! So much so that whenever you feel his tail wrap around your arm or your waist or him trying to request of you to pet his ears… you feel a little guilty somehow. 
In the end, you were keeping something from him… and you still haven’t told it yet. 
HEIZOU
You had just woken up and minutes later, you were stuck in a rather… awkward conversation. 
“Are you saying… I’m in Teyvat?! And you’re Heizou?!” 
The boy in front of you has a furrowed brow as he crosses his arms over your chest, “Hm? Where else should you be except for here? Right beside me?” he grins at the momentary victory of having to come up with a way to try and fluster you, but apparently, this time, it wasn’t working. 
He, above most of the others, would figure it out immediately–well, not the entire story, no. He will be able to deduce that you must hae forgotten a piece or two (or maybe even all) of your memory and in turn, makes you very confused as to where you were and who is he–I mean, how could you even forget who he is? He courted you for so long and now he will have to go through that all over again? 
You don’t remember everything as fast as his interrogation skills, however, and he will begin to question you before you even get to have your “memories” back, and when you do, you were already finished telling him of your life back in Earth and it seems you might have slipped that Teyvat is inside a game called Genshin Impact, which is how Heizou came into the conclusion of the truth. 
You really wouldn’t be able to hide anything from this man because he knows his way around interrogation that even if you try to lie, it will only be for your demise. Well, it does seem like he wasn’t taking you seriously, but hey, at least he wasn’t being awkward about it now… or maybe he’s just REALLY not taking you seriously. 
Anyway, it was a kiss that eventually makes you remember—not everything, but at least something. 
“This is not gonna do… you act, speak, and look exactly like Y/n, and yet-“
“But my name is really Y/n! And… I think I remember something.” 
“So you were able to recall something after our lips touched,” he brings a hand on his chin, contemplating, as you feel your face heat up. 
“If you put it that way…” 
“Then should we do it more? Kissing, I mean.” 
“Sure, I-wait… what?”
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comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3
taglist on the reblogs!
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