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undermine-the-instinct · 1 year

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Title: Across the Ballroom

Part of the Prince!Al Haitham reader poll I did. Witch reader won and is canon, and Noble reader came in last at 7.5%.

Not proofread, I just wanna get this out there.

Wc: 2k Warnings: Talks of arranged marriage(??)

☆ ° ◇ °☆ ° ◇ ° ☆ ° ◇ ° ☆

"Well met. Prince Al Haitham of the Sumerian Kingdom." The prince bowed and you return his greetings, subtly trying to check him out.

You suppose the rumors are true, he really is quite handsome. You've never quite seen such intense eyes, or such an impressive build from a prince who was not a warrior (and thus a meathead).

He does not seem to be cursed either. There are no marks or outward tellings of a curse or spell, and you wonder if it's just his insanely good looks at play here.

If he is cursed, it's hidden especially well.

You're curious, and he seems intelligent, so you hope to speak to him more as this night goes by.

Unfortunately, that's not the case.

The other nobles and royals are swarming him, like bees to honey. All high class elite, you cam never hope to breach or approach. Once he finishes talking with one lady another shows up batting her eyelashes, or another prince puts a hand to his shoulder, elbow.

You have enough people in your day to day life touching you and demanding your attention, your time, your skills, so you're not sure how he does it, how he does not shake off their holds or keeps such a stoic face.

He just seems…unbothered. Like they were all blades of grass he couldn't be bothered to sweep away. Like a puppet, he goes through the motions, says the right lines, makes the right gestures and gives the right amount of attention. It's…scary, how he can do that. Shut down everything else off but the necessary, or maybe this really is how he is. Doesn't seem like much of a person, to you.

But beyond being scary, it's boring. It seems the rumors really have painted him as a dreamboat, when he's really not anything interesting. What a disappointment.

His eyes suddenly cut towards you, like he heard your thoughts. You, out of anyone in the room. And, oh, not so composed then. There is an anger there, in his eyes, and a challenge, and you do not rise to meet it. It does not entice you. You return to your champagne glass, stick to your little corner of the ballroom.

You're going to mind your business, and enjoy your time here. Your father pulled some strings to get you to such a high class ball, so above your station. You're wearing your most expensive outfit and jewelry yet, and the food looks amazing.

You'd have better luck talking to the people here. Making acquaintanceships, and networking, than trying to woo the prince. You're ordinary (no you're not, but you're trying to be), so you doubt you'll catch his eye.

You forget you're a witch (no you're not, you just know some things). You really shouldn't tempt fate.

Because Gods and Stars above, the Crown Prince is walking towards you.

"Your Grace." The room goes silent, and you turn fully to see the crown prince behind you, holding out his arm. Goodness, he's not going to ask…in front of all these people?

"A new song is about to start. May I have this dance?" You'd rather magick a hole in your hand that lets out hornets, but alas. Who are you to deny the crown prince? You take his hand.

He's not wearing gloves. His calluses aren't fully formed, like he doesn't use them for work often, but he has little indents on his index and thumb. They are so imperceptible that you wouldn't have noticed them if you didn't have the same thing, from years of holding a wand, or a quill.

Both of you are silent and stone faced as you take your positions on the dance floor. You suppose you don't make a very pleasant looking pair. There is a sizable clear space around you two that the other dancers leave, and you do not pretend to not notice the stares you are getting.

"Tell me," he begins, as the music starts, "what brought you here?"

"Me, Your Highness?" You move with him, smooth, graceful.

"It is the beginning of the social season, Your Highness. It's more strange if I am not here."

"Forgive me, you don't seem like you very much want to be here."

"I could say the same for you, Your Highness." You are awarded with a slight, dry chuckle as you move along the dance floor.

"Oh, so you noticed?"

"...I do not mean to be rude, Your Highness." Cats and dragons know that your mother and your father would kill you if you were to get on the bad side of the prince.

"You are not. To be honest, I grow weary over droll conversation about the same things, over and over. But my Father made me swear to be on my best behavior. So what can I do?"

A chuckle escapes your lips.

"Even at our age, we are still held to the whims of our parents."

"But of course. I adhere to it though."

"Blink twice if you're being held hostage, Your Highness." He looks at you, and you think your joke was not very well received, until he very obviously blinks twice. You chuckle.

Okay, this is going good. Much better than you thought you would have, when his eyes cut across the room.

Almost like he was searching for something, a lifejacket to hold onto.

"Pardon me, Your Highness, for this question but…why did you approach me for a dance?"

"Hm? Because I wished to. Nothing more or less." And put all this pressure on you? With the wide space you've been given, the stares, you've never put this much thought into making sure your steps are absolutely perfect. You can't make a fool of yourself here, you will not.

"I've never met you before. We have no history."

"No…?" You draw out the word.

"And yet you don't seem infatuated with me."

A million thoughts flood through your head, and a thousand emotions, but you decide to wait until he clarifies.

Even if a hot bolt of incredulity (rage) shot through you.

"Haven't you noticed there's mainly women at this ball? They are all hoping to win me over so I could make one of them my wife. Not much different for the other nobles either.

I've never seen you at none of these events, and I recognize plenty of the people here. You must be here for the same thing as they. Though I don't see you making much of an effort."

You want to scoff, and it's getting incredibly hard to keep being polite."Would you believe me if I said I was not attracted to you, or wished to court you? At all?"

"I'd be highly skeptical, and hopeful. What a relief that would be. Even so, that wouldn't explain why you look so upset to be here."

Was your face that telling? No, you're pretty sure he just has a crazy intuition.

Alright, how can you say this without being too rude, or look like you're scheming…

"Well, I very much don't appreciate my Father sending me here to try and seduce you, Your Highness." There goes any tact.

"Oh? Is that what you were sent for?" He sounds like he is just humoring you, and you try not to wince. You hope you aren't digging your own grave. He looks down at you, assessing, and he doesn't look impressed. Your anger flares.

"You don't seem to be doing a very good job. By choice, I presume?"

"Of course. You don't seem very enthused either, with all these suitors being thrown at you. Why add on when I don't even want to?"

He twirls you, away from him. You pivot on your heel and twirl back into his arms.

"No, I don't appreciate it. And I'm feeling desperate, so let's cut the small talk and make a temporary deal."

A what? The sudden topic change sounds so sudden, and gives you whiplash, but…you're bored.

"Pardon me, Your Highness?"

"You are pardoned. Quickly now, the dance is almost over."

True, the tempo was reaching its crescendo, and then it's end, you nod at the prince.

"Let me hear, before I agree." After the words leave your mouth he pulls you so much closer, and you don't think you misheard the room gasp when he leans closer to whisper in your ear.

"I pretend to entertain you, and be enamored, and you follow suit. That way I won't have to deal with these lovelorn fools and you…"

"And I…?" You try not to sound breathless.

"Have something to report back to your Father." A huff of breath escapes your lips before you catch it, and you shake your head with a smile.

"I thought you were good at negotiations, Your Highness. I don't need to report back to my Father on anything. And I don't think I'd want the attention I'd get, plenty of folks here are already sure to gossip on this, alone." With your hand still in his, you gesture between the two of you. The prince's expression doesn't change.

"I understand your Father is in a bit of a bind, and you are of eligible age and stature, and, forgive me, breeding, for marriage. It's why you were sent to such a high class ball, in the hopes of meeting and wooing me." You purse your lips, not wanting to affirm his thoughts.

"I'm a capable person. Even if in the worst, absolute case scenario, my family falls into ruin, somehow, I could make a name selling spells and such. I'm talented enough to bring us back to high society"

"Oh, a witch? You seem very confident in your abilities."

"Of course, I'm very capable and I am self taught."

"Tell me witch, am I cursed? Spellcasted, hexed? Or could you curse me to never find love?" Is he joking? His face is set like stone but his voice carries some mirth when you frown at him.

"I couldn't detect anything then or now. And I could curse you, but then my family would really fall into notoriety and we don't need that." He chuckles, so he was joking.

Good.

"Even just this you could report back, and I'm sure it would do much to delay your Father's attempts to marry you off. I need an appropriate excuse, not exactly a proper one, to escape these suitors. So what say you?"

The dance is nearly finished now, and you can already see said suitors waiting at the outskirts, waiting for their turn, or to question you. You frown at the prince, having come to a realization.

"Even if I refuse, you have made it so I'll gain some notoriety just from your actions here alone. You've pressured me."

Al Haitham looks at you. And strangely enough, he smiles. Those eyes of his are really…something. The music stops and you both still, but he still doesn't let you go as you look about, as whispers start to rise.

"To make negotiations, preferably in my favor, I need to create a situation where the other party is more inclined to meet my demands." He releases you save one hand, and lowers himself down to kiss it. The room definitely explodes into gasps, and your eyes blow open.

"I'm sure you'll be able to find me if you take up my offer."

You hiss, annoyed. "I'll put a spell on you, prince."

"I don't care. As long as it gets these people away from me," he mutters under his breath, that pleasant smile slipping ever so slightly.

He bows and slowly turns away, as if longing to stay with you.

"Till our next dance, Your Grace. I do hope you bless me with more of your time." And he walks away. You only have a moment to glare and curse him in your mind before a group of ladies descend upon you, hungry for all the gossip.

That swine.

Tagging @escapeis !!!

#my stuff #my writing #Prince!Al Haitham #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #al haitham #genshin al haitham #reader insert #drabble fic #poll results #Noble!Reader #Witch!reader #Al Haitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin alhaitham #al haitham x you #al haitham x y/n #genshin al haitham x reader #genshin imapct

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riabef · 1 year

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✎. The snow guides me to you

SUMMARY: It’s not the easiest task for those to confess their love so easily; yet even in your absence all he can think about is you, so why not try anyways?

FEATURING CAST: Alhaitham!!! hehe secret Santa gift for @prawndip! hi hi this is for you <3

PRONOUNS: gender neutral reader!, second person perspective “You”

WORD COUNT: 1444 words

WARNINGS: i think this is pretty fluffy, just about him going from “I tolerate you I guess” to “oh I think I like you” less in than 2k words

AUTHOR NOTES: writing this never made me feel so single before not going to lie - Wasn’t sure if you celebrated Christmas so I just went with a general winter theme, but changes can be made ^^ just send me an ask and I’ll prepare something else! I know it probably doesn’t snow in Sumeru or like,,,, the rest of Teyvat except for Dragonspine and Snezhnaya but …. Listen it’s for the plot 😔

✉︎ Alhaitham

The first time he met you was under a glittering sheen of snow, the frosty flakes and the cold nipping at his skin. At the time both you and him were only children, exploring the world under your feet, too caught up in the enveloping curiosity you felt; from wandering the Grand Bazaar to the ends of the city where the forest began, it was all so enticing for children to explore.

Despite your curiosities, there would always be a slight difference between you two, and that was that Alhaitham, your childhood friend, was always prepared. On the other hand, you, unfortunately, were not. So when the snow fell from the sky, almost by instinct your head turned towards him as though he was your answer.

Amidst the gray clody skies, coloured in shades of fossil and silver, there stood two children. Just far enough from the city to tune out any merchant chatter, or the noise of the city slowly getting ready for the end of the day; endless footsteps echoed across the pavement. The two children stood, bantering, almost, most likely because of the falling snowflakes.

Capturing one with your hands, you admire it’s beauty, the shaped perfection that these crystals had were utterly breath-taking, of course, if it were not for the cold you wouldn’t have an issue. Unfortunately for you, your archon decided to spare no mercy for the unprepared as the temperatures dropped even lower.

“Does it look like I’m your saviour?” Adorable as he seemed, he looked almost fed up with your antics. In hindsight, he really was adorable, if you ignored the irritation in his voice, or the passive scoldings that he’d give you; with all things considered, he was a good friend. Despite bantering with you from time to time, you truly care for him. And fortunately, that was reciprocated.

“Yes it does actually,” placing a mocking hand on your forehead as you clutched your heart, ready to give a performance that would just shy of opera standards, “my one and only friend. We’ve been through so much in our brief lives, and you’ve always been the one guiding me, the light in the dark-”

“So you’ve forgotten your gloves again?”

“Once again, you are right my dear Watson! Your deduction skills are simply extraordinary!” nodding your head solemnly as though you weren’t talking about your forgotten gloves. You continued, “However, it isn’t as it seems, although it appears as though I’ve misplaced them, or dare I say, forget them. They are here, in my pocket!”

All that fell out of your pockets were marbles.

“While you were having your little soliloquy, I thought it’d be better that at least one of us brings an extra pair,” he sighed, and for a moment you let yourself misleadingly think that maybe he isn’t so bad, perhaps he did have a soft spot for you all along, “of course, to compensate for the other’s forgetfulness.”

“Sometimes I forget how much of a jerk you are.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” He promptly throws a pair of gloves without any warning, and you let your hands tread across the material very carefully as though it were a prized heirloom. Surprisingly, the glove fit almost as if tailored, and the material was incredibly soft against your skin.

Maybe you wouldn’t be wrong in assuming he cared about you a little more than he let on.

The next time you meet, the both of you are fervent researchers of the Akademiya, eagerly searching for all the answers that didn’t exist, and trying to gain an understanding of the environment around you. Although, Alhaitham supposes that you’ve taken the latter part of that statement a little too seriously as you tried gathering samples of even the flowers around Sumeru City, much less the snow.

Perhaps in a last-ditch effort of finding a perfect thesis, your mind could only find one solution.

As typical years of Akademiya alumni would describe, the arduous process of creating your thesis begins, however it began with searching for the perfect topic. Ideally one that no one had previous research on

Crouching while trying to stuff some random moss from the pavement, you carefully select your words before voicing them aloud, “Hey Alhaitham-”

“It’s a bad idea.” Flabbergasted, you whipped your head to look at him in disbelief.

“But I didn’t even speak?!”

He sighed, as if expecting the answer, “I’m not wrong though.”

“Anyways, what if I made my thesis about how good snow tasted?”

“That’d be wonderful, you could even make up another culinary darshan.”

You scoffed, resisting the urge to curse him out further in favour of gathering snow to make into a snowball, juggling it between your two hands as if contemplating your further decision.

Taking notice of this, “If you eat that, I won’t be liable for any physical illnesses you go through.”

“You say that as if you were planning to take care of me in the first place?”

He remains silent.

Although he cherished your smile, and especially your laughter (fuzzy feelings swirl around in his mind, for reasons unknown) he do has to admit that your especially low view of him does hurt him quite a bit. Regardless, he’s content remaining as is. The silent friend who shows up once a blue moon to show they actually care for you, the one who’s been waiting for you to take notice of his feelings, and waiting even longer to accept that maybe he didn’t just tolerate you.

Although unlikely, it’s possible that he’s taken a liking towards you.

The next time he sees you, he’s more than conclusive about his own matters, unable to deny it any longer, all that’s left is to accept his growing feelings for you. Especially with the way that you always seemed to meet him with the change of seasons. Like anyone else, he has his own secret to keep; and his seemed to be that he looked forward to winter for the chance to see you.

As busy students in the Akademiya, it’s not odd that you two find it difficult to share time together outside of the occasional glances shared in the halls with the occasional nods of acknowledgement. Despite this, the saying does go, “the heart grows fonder with absence” and that proved true with Alhaitham.

How ironic was it that someone who vehemently rejected human emotions felt one of the most strongest known feelings?

There was a moment in time where all he could do was spare a glance at you in the library, or the halls. Even if all he could do was spare a few of his thoughts for you, it didn’t help him get over this crush; almost akin to a poet’s longing glances towards their muse, drawn to the inspiration the other offers. It was almost laughable how his thoughts were easily drawn to you the moment the moon rose, when all was quiet in the city, when the lanterns were lit and the citizens drawn into a slumber.

Or perhaps the way his mind would drift to you even while the sun was high up in the sky, when the breeze felt a little too quiet, and the space beside him was unoccupied.

Time passed as endless and unchanging as ever, no compromises to be made, or any hesitation. Just like the grains of sand trickling down the glass, counting down to when he could see you again. Not like it could tell an exact date, but it helped pass the lonesome hours by. The endless feeling of work was a routine he took a liking to; although he found that including you in that routine was something he yearned to do.

It was then that he understood what he needed to do.

Only a letter was left on your desk with elegant writing, the name of the sender and everything was all left out as though it was of no importance; only requesting your presence at midnight at the “place where memories were”.

While you waited in the dark, the snow began to fall from the sky like it had all those years ago, except this time he was not the boy he once was, and you were not the child you once were either. With a smile you only knew that there could only be one person who called your attention like this, and it was him.

If it were anyone else you would’ve been displeased at the simple conversation, but because it was him, Alhaitham, your heart soared above the clouds, yet to reach the ground.

“I think I love you.”

“Think?”

“I apologize, I know.”

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astolary · 2 years

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 .

( Synopsis ) And you witnessed the macrocosm in all its dazzling contours.

( Authors Note ) This work is released before Sumeru is added to Genshin Impact, so there is very little lore regarding Al Haitham when this is published. I hope you enjoy this at the end, and constructive criticism is greatly appreciated :)

( Pairing ) Al-Haitham x GN! Reader

( Content Warnings ) Established relationship. Written to satisfy my brain rot. Mentions of the word gorgeous.

( Word Count ) 1.0k words // EDITED!

— THE SUN WAS A MASTERPIECE AND GLIMMERED IN BRILLIANCE,

the sun: a hidden flirt and a massive tease (brightness)

Al Haitham conversed with a hidden charm that seemed to sway the lush leaves outside the library's windows. The sunlight perfectly radiated on the outstanding library shelves, cascading onto dusted and aged books neatly lined up against one another. Grandeur scrolls of knowledge were proudly displayed on the wood walls, making the murmurs of wisdom traverse around the serene room with a flip of a page.

He never bothered worrying about who would interrupt him in his time of research, because only you and he knew of this place. Hidden in plain sight under the watch of a lesser god.

Pale juniper green irises twinkled in the gratification that a few hours were in his hand, unconsciously humming in satisfaction when he spotted a book to his liking. Perhaps he could read this with you?

The thought of the two of you relishing in each other's company put his mind at ease.

He took a step forward, ornaments from his outfit creating a rhythmic sound. He placed his index finger and thumb on the spine of the book to slide it out the shelf—

—nothing.

Push. Pull. Push. Pull. It was almost as if the work was glued to the frame of the furniture. Perhaps if he made an effort to look for another book. There is no point fretting over this.

That one. Al Haitham thought, reaching out to grab a book two rows below the seemingly glued book.

Nothing.

He added a little more force this time, tenderly making sure he won't damage the piece of work. It didn't move. Why is he unable to get it?

"Ugh, why can't I grab this book..." A melody his ears sought reached his ears.

"Gorgeous?"

"Huh? Gorgeous? Wait don't tell me..."

Out of a pinch of amusement, he tipped the third book he laid his hands on— which now successfully rested on his hands— and came into contact with your gaze. He rested his arm on whatever space was left from the book he got and tipped his lips up to a minor smirk.

"You were getting the book I was getting a while ago, weren't you." You're baffled expression occupied his thoughts. Although, it was probably useless to confirm it with him since he most likely connected the puzzle before you.

"You're correct."

"I was going to get it and give it to you since you probably wanted to read it together!"

"Alas, here we are, separated by a wall filled with words spilled from hours of studying. We really were fated to be, gorgeous."

"You're the gorgeous one here and we both know it, shut up."

He adores your flustered self.

— MISTIFIED AND ENTRANCED WITH THE ILLUSIONS OF THE AWAKENING MOON,

the moon: a mysterious gentleman with nothing but respect (calmness)

Bountiful were the imperial potted padisarahs cultivating on the rich soils of his private riad. Other unscrupulous classes would believe that after you have gained control of knowledge— respect, admiration, power, and money is nothing but child's play. All that was left to obtain was ambition and the vessel of power from the gods.

A vision.

But what is wisdom and power when ambition and morale fail to play the role?

Conceivably, this was what separated him from the rest.

He knows, that beneath the raw memorabilia of godly divinity, rested the dead and the falsehoods that happened before miraculous spectacles flourished. A mortal carelessly strolling around the break of dawn with a fraction— or a percentage— of immortals, was a laughable notion. Humans had mortality while divinity had immortality.

Someday it will be revealed that it is nothing but a mere tool.

How foolish. Al Haitham spoke to himself.

( Al Haitham was foolish to underestimate the eye of the gods when the hoaxes end. )

He was far from that fantasy stereotype. He was an enigma. A secret buried under the thick unforgiving hail of Dragonspine. A mystery buried at the bottom of Liyue's mountains after dragons roared amid battle. A paradox thrown to the depths of Inazuma's oceans with the remains of divinity beheaded by the Almighty Shogun's spear. A dilemma sunken in Sumeru's volcanoes that glimpsed battles between warriors and cowards thousands of years ago.

The catastrophes didn't cease you from achieving your destination, though.

You hiked the mountain peaks of Dragonspine under layers of courageousness despite unknowing the secrets of the deceased princess who wished nothing but for someone to wear her crown. You've seen fossils, bones, and remains— the aftermath of Liyue's devastating war. You surfed above the thunderous oceans and danced around the thunderstorm once upon a time. You quelled the bubbling turmoil and made amends co-existing with the strong and the weak.

Then the moon.

Al Haitham was the moon. Galaxies away from arm's reach, it adorned the dark tempest taking hold of Teyvat's twilight, giving mercy and sprouting a second chance. It gave seeds of fake hope of wonder, the moonlight nothing but a mere marvel illusion. It would take light years for mechanics to evolve and when a Teyvatian finally conquered the moon— what then?

Defeat. The moon was just a mere dull stone blessed with the glory of the sun. Receding spears and swords would pierce the shielded heart because their ambition was worthless. A setback— no other forms of life thriving in the abundance of a hidden empire, no sanctuary and grasslands of fading stars unearthing equilibrium.

Al Haitham never minded the negative impact. For he was a young eagle luring his prey who made him loathe their nefarious spirit.

Your sentiment is stated contrarily.

He was the anchor for those lost in a dulcet of eunoia, ridding their sonder of the anchor's chain that lent a second chance.

He was your anchor, your moon, and your whole world. Al Haitham knew this too.

You've seen him stress out, get furious, and all his flawed emotions.

And all he can say is, thank you. I love you.

As Al Haitham prepared his surprise feast for you and him, he only hopes you enjoy it as his thanksgiving. To you, and all his blessings.

The sun and the moon juggling a chance in a circus was a dream to transpire.

in a way, we lived in the same atmosphere shining in our own beautiful ways (an ephemeral dream)

astolary 2023 — do not edit, repost, or translate.

#（ ❁ଓ.° ）#（ ❁ଓ.° ） astro! genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #genshin al haitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin al-haitham x reader #al-haitham x reader

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souglias · 1 year

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You, Who Are Miles Away [ONE] - Al Haitham

c/w: none

note: So today is Al Haitham's birthday and it hit me that perhaps I should post the chapter of a series that I have scrapped. I put in quite a lot of effort into this chapter a long while ago and I only realised the series might not work out after I finished writing this. I haven't posted in a long while so I thought no harm if I just share this, even if the series may not continue or even if there's not much going on in the story right now. To whoever that this story may interest, I hope you like it. Happy birthday, Al Haitham

Thank you for all the likes and reblogs!

The scholar from the Akademiya always sits at the same table, not far from the counter. Yet he feels like someone from light years away. He could very well be, given that he always buries his pretty face in a book. Occasionally, he brings a stack of papers to handle, but that’s usually it. All he ever utters is his order and there would be no other word from him.

A fairly handsome man. His grey-hair with white highlights is somewhat well-kept, even though his fringe falls into his eyes. Muscles are well-defined through his tight arm sleeve, shoulder peeking out at the top of the sleeve. Additionally, his top flaunts his abs quite well too. He is the whole package of an attractive man.

You would have fallen head over heels for him. If only he kept his mouth shut. Or more accurately, said a little more to show some respect to you.

Chatting with regulars during your shift at Puspa Cafe is common for you. You listen to other merchants talk about their business or days. Travellers from abroad tell you about their journey so far. Scholars from the various Darshans whine about their lack of funding or lament about their rejected papers. Sometimes, they’d tell you about what’s going on in the Akademiya itself.

Given that said gray-haired scholar frequents the cafe often, you try to strike a conversation with him. But it doesn’t go smoothly as you expect. Because all he says is his order. You were fine with being uninterested in talking, but his manners tick you off.

You arrive at his table, pencil poised over your notepad. “Hello, the usual today? Would you happen to want to try something else?”

“The usual.” He says, without taking his eyes off his book that he just opened. You scribble his order in a hurry on your notepad.

You head to the counter to relay his order to Enteka, ready to criticise this particular scholar with an irritating arrogant air. You toss your notepad on the counter and scoff, “Seriously? Would it kill him to just look at him once when he’s talking to me? Is his book that interesting? Are Akademiya scholars these days becoming like that, looking down on common folk?”

Enteka only laughs as she settles the cup and saucer on the counter. “Cut him some slack, maybe he’s busy.”

“It just takes one second to look up. Besides, he’s going to study his sanity away like that. Is this how scholars go crazy these days?”

It makes you slightly relieved you dropped out years ago.

You take his drink to him, forcing a smile on your face.

“Here is your drink.”

Patrons not answering to you as you place their drink on the table is common. Except that the air of arrogance exuberating from this man makes your blood boil.

You place the cup on the table with a thud and it rattles. Some coffee brims out from the mouth of the cup, trickling down its side into the saucer. The scholar looks up from his book and you panic slightly, mumbling an apology. His eyes dart to the hardback resting on the table and he finally closes his book with a thud.

“The cover is stained.”

The first time he looks into your eyes, there is accusation. It makes you want to shift your eyes away instead.

You know there’s nothing much you could do. But you try to salvage the situation, dabbing tissues on the semi dry stains. He eyes your hands for a few passing moments before he sighs.

“Forget it.” He says as he waves you off. A whirl of emotions brew in you. A book with stains upset you, and you can’t help but feel you owe him. Yet your annoyance intensifies with the dismissing tone that he uses as if he’s your superior.

You want to say something, anything, so you wouldn’t look bad. Only more apologies come up in your mind as options, but in the heat of the moment, you don’t feel too willing to apologise. In the end, no words fall out of your mouth and you leave with gritted teeth. Other customers start to flow into the cafe, so you make yourself busy.

The scholar leaves without a word when he’s done with his drink. When Enteka closes the store for the night, you still can’t shake off the incident. It plagues you even till the moment you sprawl yourself out on your bed.

The image of a few stains of coffee on the hardback cover makes your heart wrench slightly. Your mind drifts to the scenario of coffee stains on your book and you find it unbearable.

You think about offering him something as an apology, though you weren’t sure what else you had rather than more words of apology.

Perhaps something Akademiya-related. The first thing that comes to your mind are the papers that you’ve written. You shoot the idea down immediately. You did not want him, or anyone in fact, knowing about how you dropped out.

There were also books, though you did not have that many with the tight hold the Akademiya has on knowledge. However, one specific book comes to mind. You can see it in the corner of your eye on the tiny shelf between the head of your bed and your desk.

The Distant Sun, Moon and Stars.

A traveller from Fontaine had left it behind and never came back from it. Initially, you only opened the book with the intention to skim it. However, it soon became a book dear to you that you’ve spent your nights poring over.

It made you feel like you were a student of the Rtawahist again.

You stretch over to your bookshelf from your bed and pull the book out. Raising it above you, you stare at the cover.

But… Perhaps you’ve long outgrown this book. You know what every page of this book holds and you no longer think it can give you the element of joy and surprise.

You flip through the pages and realise that you’ve made more notes in it than you thought. You let out a sigh. Would it be weird to offer a used book to anyone at all? And you have no information about his Darshan, would he even be interested in this?

You fidget with the book, letting your thoughts continue to run and ruminate on your doubts.

You end up throwing your hands up in defeat. The decision is to give him the book if he does show up the following day. Maybe he wouldn’t show up and all these thoughts would be for nothing. Heck, maybe he wouldn’t patronise the cafe ever again.

The scholar shows up the next day at the cafe. You’re not sure if you should be overjoyed or upset.

You walk up to him to take his order again. Your heart hammers in your ears as you do so. He looks one glance at you and says, “The usual.”

As Enteka makes his drink, you retrieve the book. You set his drink down on the table with your book.

“Hey, I’m sorry about the book yesterday. I know this isn’t much but I dislike the idea of stained books, regardless of whether it’s yours or from the Akademiya. So I hope you will accept this as part of my apology. It is slightly old and largely used, but I hope the wealth of information would be useful to you… or even, anyone you may know.”

He lowers the book his face was buried in and looks at you. You try your best not to tear your eyes away from his. On another note, you think that you’ve gotten a good look at his face for once. His amber-ringed eyes are pretty.

The scholar shifts his eyes down to the book, his hair falling into his eyes in the process. He scrutinises the book, asking, “Where did you get this?”

You piece together a lie.

“A patron from Fontaine had left it behind. It’s been several years but he has not come back to retrieve it.”

He turns his attention back to the book and you notice that he briefly stops at the pages where you’ve annotated pencil notes. His turquoise eyes flicker back to you again as he asks, “Did you write these?”

The content is niche and fairly complicated, if one didn’t attend the Akademiya, it was unlikely for one to understand without putting in tremendous effort. You build a little on your lie.

“No. They were already there when I picked it up.”

His eyes flicker away for a moment before he replies, “I see.”

He gives you brief thanks and resumes reading his book. Unsure of what else to do or say, you also return back to the counter.

Enteka asks, “What’s going on?”

“I gave him one of my books. As an apology for spilling some coffee on his yesterday.”

“Oh. [name], I’m pretty sure you didn’t have to do that. But since you’ve already done so, maybe we could see how things unfold.”

“Huh?”

“Some customers have come in.” Enteka doesn’t acknowledge your puzzled look and makes herself busy.

Through the day, you keep your eyes trained on your notebook and the customers in front of you. However, your mind remains conscious of the scholar’s position in the cafe.

When he finally leaves without a word, your shoulderss loosen and you heave a sigh of relief. You have no idea whether the book was going to be shelved in the Akademiya or into his own collection, but he seems appeased.

A few days later, the gray-haired scholar comes by again. When he takes his seat, he calls for you. A little taken aback, you collect yourself before you head to his table.

He hands you your book. “This was an interesting book, thank you.”

No words come up in your mind and you can only get yourself to take the book.

He asks, “Do you fancy astronomy and astrology?”

“J-Just a little interest in them.”

“You may like this book then.” He puts down his own book and picks up the book on top of the small pile. Your fingers brush his when he hands the book to you. It takes your entire being to will yourself not to react. He continues, “It shouldn’t be too difficult for novices. Otherwise, you can choose to just admire the pictures.”

You are speechless before you breathe out a thanks. His words replay in your mind, and you wonder at the back of your mind if he has passively slighted you. A pint of annoyance rises in your chest, but you’re too overcome by his behaviour to really notice.

“Do I… When is the due date?”

“There’s no due date. This is from my own collection. You can return it to me when you’re done.”

You only manage to mumble a thanks before you carefully pack the book into your bag. As you pull your hand away from your bag, you can’t help but feel the ghost of his touch lingering on your fingertips.

The day passes by like a dream. You continue to take orders and do your job in the cafe, but pretty much on auto-pilot mode. The sequence of events loops in your mind, as if it cannot fathom such a thing happened.

When you catch him leaving, you manage to snap out of your trance. You rush up to him to stop him. Face feeling slightly warm, you ask, “I’m sorry, what’s your name?”

“Al Haitham.”

Al-Haitham. Your mind echoes his name.

“You?”

When he asks that, you realise you may have been out of it for quite a while.

“I’m [name].”

#al haitham x reader #al haitham x you #genshin al haitham x reader #al haitham imagines #genshin imagines #genshin writing #genshin al haitham #genshin impact #al haitham #souglia.s

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theshiftanlibrary · 2 years

Text

The window didn't break...

It was comical, the small 'thonk' of the window behind him as a bird wished to greet him so early in the morning. He looked to where the bird was supposed to be, on the small veranda under the window. So he found it quite strange that nothing was found, until a few muffled curses found its way up to him.

He could barely contain his laughter as he strode down the stairs, already knowing what had actually happened. He saw your form on the floor, clutching your forehead with healers fluttering around you. He almost cracked when you tried to wave them away, weakly whimpering that you were alright.

He knew he shouldn't laugh, it's wrong to laugh at your lover when they get hurt. But... After the fifteenth time this month, he couldn't keep it together anymore. Granted, your lineage and heritage leaned more into the avian ancestors of your people, but he still couldn't understand how even after the third time of flying into a closed window, you didn't think to stop and weigh your options.

You could've just flown down and take the door up to see him. You could've contacted him so that he can keep the window open. By the Archons, he could've come to see you! But even after a year of dating, you still wanted to surprise him. And his back still complains whenever he recalls the one time you succeeded in flying through a window.

He shooed the healers away, assuring them that he'd look after you. Before he could reach down to help you, you pointed at him with a warning in your eyes. His facade almost cracked again, but he remained as composed as ever.

"I didn't see anything, love" he said, his snort on the verge of carrying through his voice.

"...Yes you did..." you sighed, a small smile crawling onto your face.

"I swear on everything that I do and own, I did not see anything," he assured, mostly to himself since he technically didn't see you flying face first into his window but saw the mark you left.

He helped you up with a smile, holding onto your waist in case the knock to the head was severe enough to cause dizziness. You looked at your feet with a pout, already knowing that he was inspecting you for any major injuries. He kissed the big red mark on your forehead, still trying his best not to laugh.

"Good morning, my dear" he said, now only realizing that he never greeted you properly.

"Hello Al-Haitham," you reluctantly grumbled, now pulling him into a hug.

"Is there a reason I am graced with your beauty today, or am I just lucky?"

"I was just going to say hi... I didn't know the window was closed..."

He snorted but tried to cover it up with a cough. You shot up with a glare, immediately breaking through him and his carefully crafted monotonous nature. He broke down into a fit of snorts, giggles, and chuckles, not caring if anyone sees him in this state.

You pushed him away, trying to hide your smile and instead putting on a pout. Every time he tried to compose himself and try to pull you into him, you pulled away, knowing that he'd still laugh as he holds you. Once he calmed down, he wiped the stray tears from his eyes, pulling a little huff as he glanced at your disgruntled squished face.

"I'm sorry, my love. I can't help it, you should've told me you wanted to visit... I would've left the window open," he explained as he tried to reign in his chuckles. "I would do anything to ensure you aren't hurt."

"But I wanted to surprise you... I was gonna land in your office and take you out for breakfast. You didn't have anything before you left..." you whined, allowing him to hold you again.

"We can go now, since you were so excited to come see me," he chuckled as he buried his face in your hair.

"Okay... But you're paying because you laughed at me," you exclaimed looking up at him and sticking your tongue out.

"Of course my love. I wouldn't have it any other way."

My Kofi

My Masterlist

(A/N: I AM PISSED OFF BECAUSE I COULDN’T GET THE OLD MAN ZHONGLI!!!! Take this fic as my frustration. I too would want to fly into a window for the man I love. And side note, I haven’t done the Archon Quest so I don’t know how he really is, I’ve only seen gifsets of him and… I want him and he better come because I am not willing to lose another pretty boy. And if you are so inclined to help a player out my Player ID is 741867151)

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #reader x genshin #fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #al haitham #genshin al haitham #al haitham x reader #genshin al haitham x reader #sumeru

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berriblossom · 7 months

Text

X fem reader, btw

Imagine your husband gains baby fever. He sees how you hold children, how you're so gentle and careful with them. How all your friends have children and talk about the joys and happiness they have with their little babies.

Imagine how he sees your disappointed smile about how you two don't have a little one yet.

This leads him to imagine what it would be like to have a little one around, how'd they cling onto you and their cute smile. How'd they look like a perfect mixture of the both of you. His perfect girl and his perfect child.

This leads to everytime he fucks your sweet pussy, he stays a little long before pulling out and spilling his hot cum onto your tummy and chest, whenever his cock is pushing into your womb he pushes his hand onto your tunny for you to feel him fucking your cervix and promising he'll give you that baby.

How many nights he'd have you ass up, face down as he fucks your pussy, pleading to you to let him get you pregnant. How sometimes in the middle of the night he'd eat you out in the middle of the night claming "he needed a taste before he filled you up again". Its so cute when he begs and pleads that he loves the look of your cunt leaking his cum.

How greedy he'd get when you cockwarm him, his thick, long cock throbbing just to fill you with his cum and get you pregnant. How'd he fantasize about your swollen tummy, your milk-filled breast just leaking your sweet milk for him to taste.

Goodness when you finally beg him to fuck a baby into him, hes already planning his next vacation at work for the next few weeks to give you that baby.

:WRIOTHESLEY, Ayato, ZHONGLI, JING YUAN, Blade, DAN HENG, Welt, THOMA, NEUVILLETTE, Childe, Luka, DILUC, ALHAITHAM

Its not a problem if i don't admit its one

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earthtooz · 8 months

Text

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 :,)

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.

#i didn't edit this btw don't judge #alhaitham x reader #al-haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #al haitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #fluff #alhaitham fluff #al-haitham fluff #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #alhaitham fic #genshin fic

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zhongrin · 4 months

Text

festered wounds

— when you’ve never been the first choice your whole life, it’s hard to accept the possibility that you could be loved.

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, this is more of a vent drabble, hurt with comfort, reader with massive insecurity issues, implied past trauma, slight blood & gore in the portrayal of ‘hurt’

✼ a/n ┈ this…. got really personal, haha. i wrote this in a bad headspace, so apologies if it got depressing or if it’s of a low quality. i didn't want to have this in my drafts and i certainly don't want to bring it to 2024 so i'm just posting this now.

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

“i’m sorry.”

zhongli’s heart dropped at the words escaping your lips. this was certainly the most unexpected response you could give to his confession, seeing the promising recent developments in your relationship — and so celestia forgive him, he had to pause to gather his thoughts. this made you fidget even more under his gaze, and so you succumbed to your frazzled nerves to continue in a more panicked voice.

“i’m sorry, mr. zhongli, i know you’re not the type to resort to deceit or find joy in toying with people’s feelings, but i’m just— i can’t—” you trailed off, feeling your chest tighten in pain.

“please, hold your tongue for a moment,” the refined man held out one of his hand to settle onto your shoulder comfortingly. his expression was a mixture of worry and confusion, eyebrows furrowing in a sign of distress. “are you saying that you… do not believe my words? you think i have malicious intentions?”

“….. i’m sorry, i’m just not used to- i’ve never-” you stumbled over your words and squeezed your eyes shut, “i’m sorry….”

zhongli watched you for a moment, observing the smallest ticks and the story behind your body language. you looked so vulnerable, like a scared animal instinctively cowering at some invisible threat. you looked as if someone had stripped away a bandage that had been haphazardly wrapped around a wound left unattended for so long, it had festered into an abomination, eating away at you slowly, even now.

belatedly, he realized that ‘someone’ was himself.

zhongli inhaled deeply, his palm leaving your shoulder. this time, he took his hands to tenderly grab your fingers, lifting them up to silently plead for your attention. your eyes were troubled and full of storms, the rain and lighting reflecting on your expression as a solemn flutter of your eyelashes and sorrowful downturn of your lips. the slight tremble of your body reflected the silent call for help from a blemished heart that never had the courage to forget.

“my dearest. i see the pain you have gone through. i have yet to know the tales that had marred your heart, but i want you to know that i am willing to be the pair of ears you tell your grievances to, and you can be rest assured that they will be safe with me. i know my words will not be enough to convince you otherwise at this moment… however, you must forgive my impatience, for it stems out of genuine love. i simply must humbly ask once again—”

“— please, give me a chance to heal you.”

“a-are you sure you want me?”

out of the 18 different responses he anticipated, al haitham did not expect this. however, his surprise merely manifested in the rising of both of his eyebrows and the subtle shift on his legs.

“unlike the consensus the public seemed to have one-sidedly agreed on, i am not foolish enough in the matter of romance as to confess to someone i do not hold deep affection and great care for,” he said in the same tone as the moment he asked if you would consider taking your relationship into the ‘officially dating’ phase, “is it not obvious? kaveh claimed i was ‘laying it on thick’ and cyno had noted of how i treat you better than how i treat the dendro archon.”

“oh….”

“….”

you thought you had gotten used to al haitham’s stare with how much you both had been hanging out, but right now you couldn’t seem to lift your head. the scholar crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your response. you were both gratuitous and dreading his resilience.

“i-i still think you could do better, though. i mean, look at you! you’re so fit, so wouldn’t you feel better if your partner is more of the sporty type? and you’re the top graduate of the haravatat darshan, so you would pair better with someone smarter…. a-and someone like me will just drag you down; aesthetically speaking, i… uh, leave much to be desired while you’re… you know…”

you spoke of such illogical assumptions and erroneous advices that he couldn’t help but roll his eyes. you spoke of belittling yourself as if you were used to riding on the rails of insurmountably low dip of the self-esteem cliff for years. you spoke of these things as if you were repeating words someone told you at least once in your life.

and it angered him.

but he wasn’t angry at you. he was angry for you.

funny how empathy wasn’t his strong suit, and yet he jumped on the bandwagon as easily as an otter taking off into the waters the moment it came to you and your emotions.

“i care not for such shallow qualifications when it comes to seeking a partner. your presence triggers the relevant hormones that make me feel relaxed and comfortable, and my mind spontaneously seek for your attention. it’s only logical that i seek for an arrangement that would ensure these pleasant things to happen and develop further.”

“you’re the best choice for a partner, simply because i wish to spend the rest of my life with you; and i think that's enough.”

“i don’t think i’m a good choice for you…”

wriothesley looked as if you had pinpointed his weak point in a boxing match and delivered a straight jab right onto it. his lips slacked open and his body froze as he tried to process your words, the meaning behind it, the—

he inhaled deeply and punched his own fist into his palm, stretching his jaw with a growl before a darker tone took over his voice.

“alright, who’s been talking shit? let me at them. it won’t be manslaughter if they don’t die, right?”

he watched as your nervously fiddling fingers stopped twisting around each other, your eyes widened in shock and alarm at his words. briefly, he praised himself inwardly for being able to switch your mood at the snap of his fingers. now if only he could do that, but instead of surprise-and-horror, it could turn into surprise-and-joy instead…

“what?! wait- no! no one said that, i ju—”

“then is your own head telling you that?”

“it’s—” you gulped, gaze slowly breaking away.

he sensed a secret kept safe under the heaviest chains and locks. pain that had nearly torn up that warm heart of yours, shoved into the furthest part of you in a desperate attempt to save yourself; to silence the damned screams and the river of curses that would have made you self-destruct. he saw the remains of the thousands of needles that had embedded itself deep inside your worn heart a long time ago, and yet still it beat and struggled to not bleed out and drown you in its venomous blood.

he saw a heart as scarred as his skin, and he understood.

“..… alright, sweetheart, listen up, and listen close.”

the man’s hands suddenly cradled your cheeks, his icy blue eyes penetrating your clouded gaze. his whole demeanor had shifted into gentle and loving, as if he was holding his entire world in the palms of his hands. he resisted the urge to kiss you when you couldn’t help but lean onto his touch, instinctively seeking comfort.

he would do you better. he would give you the kind of love you’ve yet to experience. there were so much he wanted to say, but he chose to speak of the reassurance he thought you needed most at this moment.

“i say you’re the perfect choice for me. let me prove it to you.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli #zhongli x reader #al haitham #al haitham x reader #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #rin writes

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anantaru · 2 months

Text

GENSHIN + WHERE HIS HANDS ARE DURING IT

— ꒰ including ꒱ — wriothesley, alhaitham, scaramouche, ayato x fem! reader

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ex]plicit, fem! reader, established relationship, doggy/office syx,ass slapping (ayato's part), dirty talk, dom characters

— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱ + over your mouth

"shh, no, keep quiet… that's it, that'll help, yeah?" with how you're pressed between a muscular chest and a chilly wall, it was truly mouth-watering by how wriothesley handled you that it made you hot from head to toe, almost feeling like he could be able to swallow your body whole.

needless to say, you can practically feel that stupid, sneaky smirk emitting with a deep, focused thrust as he nuzzles his head into the back of your neck— and fuck, everything around you two begins to grow warm, neither of you can control the ache developing on your frames as your bofriend set out for a brutal pace.

you were in his office and from the outside noises, it was evident that it's quite busy in the fortress, hence why the duke had suddenly decided to take sweet precautions within this lewd situation and be for certain that nobody was able to listen to those heavenly noises you made.

wriothesley finds it equally comical and a teeny bit embarrassing by how much power you had over him.

how the lingering touch of you was enough to coax out heavy sets of breathes from his throat, how his cock would react and twitch at the sounds spilling from you, how you're grinding desperately back into his thrusts, knowing that when he reaches even deeper, offers you more of his decadent rolls of his hips, he'd race both of you closer to completion.

with pleasure, he touches you so eagerly with one large palm tightly pressed against your mouth and the tip of his cock bruises along your ribbed walls. with heavy breathes surrounding your frame, you sob into his hand as your eyes roll back, the evident contrast of hot, sloppy grinds pivoting within your soft spots and the cold wall you're being pressed against only adding to your body being doused with a sprinkle of sweat and arousal.

heavy breathing, even heavier movements, accompanied by a racing pulse took over your entire frame— only making it ten times more intense when wriothesley began to come close to his own relief, which meant that he'd shamelessly grunt against your ears, the coil stuffed deep within your guts slowly beginning to reveal itself, your legs jelly-alike and trembling while he pumps into you faster.

— ꒰ ALHAITHAM ꒱ + holds your hand

alhaitham peers down at you with his eyes brilliant of translucent lust turning them glossy, his blessed features exuding a strong desire as soft peels of sweat slither down his forehead.

a low, throaty gasp slips through his lips when you draw him into your slick walls, your arousal seeping through each grind he'd give you before dripping along his balls and pelvis. despite the frantic lust that is evident in the tempo of his hips, tonight was more than simple "lust", the scribe was desperate, seeking out more, undoubtedly illuminated in his touch and hold, he was ravenous.

to indulge in your whole body was what he needed to die a happy man after, drown in an ocean of you as he swiftly grabs your hand before pressing it into the mattress, tightly shutting his fingers around it so you could untangle your digits from his, even if you tried, "what's that look on your face, hm?" he brings himself to say it through a tensed jaw as a harsh cry escapes your lips.

"you're so pretty just like this,"

sloppy thrusts, mindless bubbles, and kisses paired within soft pants that had held you in a daze, all you could do was hold on tight to his hand— because here, alhaitham put more effort into his hips, nasty sounds after nasty sounds coming from your hole being repeatedly filled as you dug your heels into his solid back, your orgasm soon after bursting thick upon his restless body snapping forward.

— ꒰ SCARAMOUCHE ꒱ + on your tits

with your hands moving to sensually claw on to scaramouche's back, his slicing pace was never faltering, not even a little, especially not when he's hissing from the slight pain you caused with your nails dragging at his skin— but he secretly likes it, it turns him on, yet he leans into your body more afterwards, always so eager to snap his hips further and further until he's able to trace every pulse and twitch on your puffy walls.

what else could be better than pleasuring his loved one? while also toying with your nipples standing erected, presented on a silver plate? you're too much for him, too much all at once that it doesn't matter how often you've already been intimate, he will never get used to all of this.

a rosy hue coats his facial expression with how your pussy was milking him, consuming his life more than he'd ever allow anybody to do so— and his grip gets tighter now, because the moment scaramouche sees how your body begins to react, the force of his thrusts casting upon your sillhouette, he cannot hold back the menacing grin that follows his lips.

his eyes crinkle in delight, "someone's hiding noises, i see," as his hand reaches to roughly squeeze at your breast to make it bounce from equally the impact of his tantalizing tempo and the roughness of his grip on it, "i want to hear you, louder," how he says it was interesting— both sensual and stern, as if it was a direct order, the ones he used to give back as a fatui harbinger.

at bottom, it made you arch greedily beneath him, the tension hanging heavy at each sound, each impassioned noise, all of it ultimately smoothing over fray hairs from your body with tears swelling in your eyes.

— ꒰ AYATO ꒱ + on your ass

ayato couldn't possibly keep his hands off your ass, he's greedy, it's both a comfort to have his palms squeeze and jiggle the bouncy skin and the most ideal way to keep you in your place while he's practically pulling your hips against his cock himself.

he's kneading your ass now, taking a handful before giving it a light slap, one more, and slap, just for good measure, you know? — turning it impossible for you to solely focus on one single thing, wether it was the never ending increase of speed his cock had, with his length reaching your throbbing places to stroke and tease at your sore walls, slipping and pushing against the places that would make you end up clawing at his shoulders to drag him into your greedy mouth.

your kisses are mostly tender, except when ayato was fucking you, then it's more teeth and spit than anything else and the kiss was always sloppy that it was arousing again. his wet muscle was raking over your lips before you leans into it more, practically letting him devour you, overtake the slight increase in dominance you had for a second when he heaves and kisses you through growls and bestial flicks of tongue.

his digits press into the plush of your ass the same time he grinds down on your warm cunt, wiping your juices back into your wet walls— but it all happens so fast that you cannot catch your breath anymore, and when you open your eyes weakly to peer up at him, ayato's mouth ghosts over your parted lips.

your mouth feels dry from swallowing the thick lumps in your throat and sobbing out his name on endless repeat— although for the man himself, the searing drags of his shaft pulling the trembles out of you did the talking, he needn't say much.

this night though, his lips part with a silent moan escaping him, like he has to say something.

"you're mine… this is mine," he slaps your ass before ramming himself into you, his hips bucking into your cunt before he repeats it, hushing his swears when he drives his cock back. the area on your flesh burned a little as your moans grow hoarse at every new smack smack of his palm hitting it harder, "—yet surely, my love," ayato sneers, hot breath fanning on your doused lips as he slows his hips to watch you pout at him,

"—surely you can take more?"

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angelltheninth · 4 months

Text

Genshin Men + Bed Space

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Thoma, Childe, Al-Haitham, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Reader

Tags: fluff, domestic fluff, cuddles, literal sleeping together, kisses

A/N: This is kind of a meme post? Maybe? But I also found it cute.

Kaeya can stick to his side of the bed without invading yours if you didn't fall asleep cuddling. The only time he moves is when he wakes up and then pulls you into his arms and then taking a few more minutes of napping with you.

Diluc never sleeps without cuddling with you. While he can get home late he will try his best not to wake you up while gets into bed with you. He doesn't often use his side of the bed on his own, he always wants you there with him.

Itto takes the whole bed with his frame, he sleeps completely spread out on it with you laying on top of him. In his sleep he will always wrap one arm around you so you feel protected, even though no one would dare break into your home with your boyfriend there.

Thoma doesn't like to make you feel like he's invading your part of the bed but at the same time makes you want to cuddle up to him by how he looks at you. As soon as you're against him he gets the biggest, happiest smile which is then kissed away by you.

Childe makes it his purpose to push his body as close to you as possible when he's in bed with you. One side of the bed is always cold, which is a wake up call to whichever one of you rolls to that side in the morning.

Al-Haitham only goes to your side of the bed after asking you if you want to cuddle for the night. Once you're in his arms he pulls you in for the last kiss of the day, or maybe the first kiss of the next day depending on when you go to sleep.

Wriothesley pulls you against him almost demanding your attention after the day you've spent apart. He doesn't care that you're half on top of him and half on your side of the bed, he just wants to feel your body against his, finally letting himself relax.

Zhongli sleeps with one arm hanging off the bed but with his tail wrapped around your hip to keep you beside him. When he's sleepy in the morning he coils his tail around you tighter and lightly kisses the back of your neck to help you wake up too.

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chichikoi · 4 months

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jealousy, jealousy (?)

synopsis: asking them for someone else's number. pairing: diluc, childe, al haitham, wriothesley x gn! reader fandom: genshin impact genre: fluff warnings: mentions of cheating, insecurity(?) a/n: my first smau :o definitely have something big planned, but this is me trying. hahehwehwjehjehe.

bonus: kazuha !

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undermine-the-instinct · 1 year

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Title: Visitor

Now in first place is Witch!reader with a 26.1% vote! This is the Canon reader, and I guess you can say storyline, for the Prince!Al Haitham Series! Witchreader and their accursed prince~

Wc: 1.3K Warnings: None

"Well well well, what a surprise. The Crown Prince, standing in my shop."

You stand behind the counter, staring down at the man behind it. He has a cloak on to obscure his features, but his eyes are too bright, and his cloak is too clean, boots too high quality.

You point your finger towards the door he just walked through.

"Get out. I am not going to be held accountable for whatever happens, or whatever problems you have. Get. Out."

"No. I need your services."

"I need to keep my head attached and this," you gesture towards the space in between you two. "Is putting that in grave danger." You huff, and put your hands to your hips.

"How did you even find this place?"

He shrugs, and removes the hood from his head. The low lamps almost brush his hair, and paint him a warm gold.

"I need your services."

"You need to get out."

"I can assure you that you will remain unharmed. By my word. " You snort.

"Mob mentality doesn't work like that when they're hellbent on ripping you to shreds." You're liable to jump over this counter and push him out yourself, if you're forced too.

"This isn't a matter of want. I need your services. No one knows that I am here, and I only have a small window of time."

Teal, yellow, a rusted red. His eyes are bold and intense, and he doesn't even shy or flinch away from yours, even as you feel the power swirl in them, unknown and feared by the commonplace. He seems desperate, and you are curious.

"Tell me what you 'need', and I'll see if I'll help you."

He steps closer till only the counter stands between you, and stares down at you with all his stoic-ness.

"I assume I am under a curse. I do not know when or how it was placed, but everyone seems to fall for me upon first sight."

"And that's a curse?"

"When you're in a position such as mine, yes. I need you to identify it, and possibly find a way to break it."

"Hm. And that's it?" You lean against your counter like a cat stretching. You're not going to be made to feel uncomfortable in your own shop.

"You don't want to curse someone? You don't want a potion for strength or invisibility? Or luck?"

"Everything is a matter of skill and circumstance," he raises a hand, blasé.

"Manipulate the circumstances to your favor, and the rest is history. I don't need any of those. I need you to identify what curse I am under."

"Well, alrighty, let's have a look then." Quick as a snake you grab a fistful of hair, and pull him down to your level, balancing on your tiptoes. His hair is soft in your hand, and he doesn't fight, leaving you to your whims. He does grit his teeth though, so you don't think he's complying to you simply out of goodwill.

There are no bumps on his skull, no scabs. From what you can see, his skin has no discoloration or bumps or rashes, his pores seem normal as well.

He smells like books and leaves and clean linen, the slightest musk and hint of leather. Nothing odd. You move one of the ear phones, and he tenses at this, but his eyes are only slightly pointed, nothing odd.

You tap his chin, hand under his jaw.

"Let me see your teeth." He looks at you oddly but complies. His teeth are straight and white, he still has his wisdom teeth. And his tongue is flat and pink. You touch his adams apple, which is normal. You can't tell anything. No odd moles or scars even.

"I don't see any sign of a curse. Not from what I can see."

"Nothing? Nothing odd or strange?"

"No. The only odd thing I can tell is your eyes, have they always been like this?"

"Yes. This…phenomenon only started around a year ago."

"Hm. Maybe its something you ingested? Or a latent curse." You let him go, and he rises back up, straightening his hair with a frown. You can see his brain working a mile a minute.

"Latent. So there's a set of conditions that activated the curse." His eyes cut to you, and a ordinary person would jolt. You smile.

"So it's possibly there's another set of conditions to deactivate it." You shrug.

"Probaly. Most likely. Otherwise, I don't think you're cursed at all. Maybe it's just your charms. Many women have finally had their debut and entered the socialite. You're the Crown prince, you're just desirable."

"Not to this extent. People are frantic, obsessive. There's definitely something more at play here."

"I only did a brief basic check but I find nothing odd about you." You look him over.

"At least not from what I can see."

"But," you raise your hands, "that's your problem, and not mine. Thank you for visiting my shop, the door is right there. I'll send the check personally to you from the palace, thank you very much~"

"There must be something more you can do."

There is plenty you can do. You are from a long line of witches and the knowledge of generations is all within you. It is all an encyclopedia, they are your chapters and you are their sum, and you're not sure you want to aid a prince when it's likely you'd get your head sliced off because of it.

Moat likely he'd have you sequestered away wile you rot like and old hag from fables and legends, denied fame and recognition and most finer things, till you outlive your uselessness. You know how these royals treat beings like yours.

Prince Al Haitham takes out a pouch of coins and tosses it onto the counter. Gold coins pour out, a lot of coins.

"I am willing to pay you for your continued service."

"Continued service?" You question, eyes on the gold, eyebrow raised.

"Yes, for you to run more tests, and make whatever potions that I might need for whatever occasion might arise. I could even enroll you as a doctor, or guard."

"And have me shut away in some tower, no doubt."

"No. I'll need you on the scene for whatever issues ir complications arrive. You will be no guest." He reaches ynderneath hid cloak, and from within, produces a beautiful brooch, shaped like a parrots wing.

"This is a personal gift from a friend of mine. This is my proof and your ticket to my court." It is ridiculously beautiful, and obviously made in excruciating care. This is real.

Knowledge of ages past or not, money is money. Fame (or notoriety) is recognition. So if the pay matches your skillset…

"I might not find anything, ever. If you are cursed it's hidden exponentially well. You want to take that risk?" You look up from the pouch and brooch with a soft frown.

"And I here I thought you said that everything is a matter of skill and circumstance." The mirth returns to your voice though as you tease.

"Yes. Circumstance has led me to you and my skills help me to barter. And you and your skills will increase the luck and favorability of my circumstances. You are useful, and I am in need of you." He gestures to himself and the room, covered in your trinkets and potions and ingredients. His eyes land on the pouch pointedly.

"I will provide all you need and wish. Join my side, and reap the rewards of being mine."

You scoff a little, and rest your chin in your hands. Sweet words. They're working.

"...You say you're cursed but that sounds more like a love confession than some sort of proclamation. You're rather smooth, Your Highness."

"So is that a yes?"

"Well…we'd have to draw up a contract, put it in writing, y'know? That takes time. I have to make sure my shop isn't left abandoned, and make sure I have a stable pay–"

"That will be done. I'll draft a contract and we can overlook it next time." He draws up his hood again, and turns towards the doors, quick and sure. His time must nearly be out. Despite yourself, you call out to him. Your fingers trace the brooch.

"Why…why did you choose to come to my shop, or even offer me a contract? What made me so special?" You grin, like how of course could he think of anyone else but you, but you really want to know.

Prince Al Haitham stands there, in the low lamplight, looking both ominous and debonair. You're starting to think he's just ridiculously handsome and not really cursed.

He shrugs, a hand fiddling with the string to his earphones.

"You're the only one who didn't offer to read my palm or tell the future through my eyes when I arrived. Neither did you deign to tell me my love life through the stars."

"I wanted you the hell out of here."

"Exactly," he nods. "You are the only one with some common sense." With that, he leaves your shop, leaving you with the silence and weight of a new proposition.

Maybe you should read the stars to tell your future. You're in for a trip, now.

Taglist: @tigerpriestess @hypernovaxx @certaindreampost @tanspostsblog @escapeis

#my stuff #my writing #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #al haitham #genshin al haitham #Prince!Al Haitham #reader insert #witch!reader #al haitham x witch reader #al haitham x reader #al haitham x y/n #al haitham x you #genshin al haitham x reader #genshin au #poll results

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flseur · 5 months

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꒰ 𐙚 in for it — genshin men ꒱

⟡ synopsis : how genshin men eat you out, just to keep it brief

⟡ characters : wriothesley, neuvillette, al haitham

⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, cunnilingus, face-sitting, fingering, office sex, teasing, praising, squirting

౨ৎ note : been in a writing mood recently and a wriothesley brain rot… sorry if it's shorter than usually, still trying to get used to writing smut but please enjoy ! ૮꒰ ˊᗜˋ ꒱ა

୨୧ WRIOTHESLEY

❥₊ ⊹ wriothesley was… messy when it came to eating pussy. to him, the messier the better. and the more messy you were on his face, the longer he was staying between your thighs.

right now, wriothesley was in bliss. your thighs locked around his head and your sweet cunt in his face, what could be better than this?

"sit down, sweetheart." he commands.

"are you sure? what if i suff-" you were cut off by a squeal, wriothesley's large hands grabbed at your ass, shoving you down on his face completely.

wriothesley licks one thick strip up your pussy, from your hole to your clit before his soft lips wrap around the bud and pleasure shoots up your spine.

"o-oh... oh my god..." you moan, your hands grab at the headboard of the bed tightly, your knuckles turning white. you begin to rock your hips lightly, still nervous about hurting your boyfriend.

until wriothesley pulls away, peeking out between your thighs, looking unimpressed. "if you're going to ride my face, fucking ride it." he demands. "use me, i'm all yours, baby." then he dives back into your pussy, slurping obnoxiously.

you hesitate briefly, then think about his words and begin to truly ride his face and crying out loud. your clit bumps deliciously on his nose and his tongue slithers it’s way into your hole.

your hands soon leave the wooden headboard and makes their way down to wriothesley’s inky locks, pulling at the hair. “ah! so good! mmph!”

he groans into your pussy. your slick and his saliva was everywhere. on his nose, his lips, and it was dripping down his chin. god how he loved you, loves your pussy, your tits, and he loved the way you were riding his face so desperately.

“that’s it… that’s my fucking girl…”

୨୧ NEUVILLETTE

❥₊ ⊹ “you’re a messy little thing, aren’t you?” neuvillette chuckled. you were currently sitting half-naked on the edge of his oak desk in the palais mermonia. just wearing your white blouse, your panties and skirt were discarded and thrown somewhere in the room, your bare pussy was dripping on the wood of the desktop.

"you usually don't tease..." you pout, looking down at your husband though his eyes didn't quite meet yours. instead they were trained on your cunt.

"sorry, love." though it doesn't truly sound like he is. neuvillette lowers to face your bare bottom, his lithe fingers come forward and pull apart the lips of your pussy.

"so beautiful..." he mumbles before his tongue meets your clit then travels down to your hole. his tongue thrusts into you and he tastes your slick on it. "so good..." he groans.

neuvillette then starts to eat you out like he's starved. his movements which are usually precise and calculated are now messy, and erratic. you've never quite felt heaven like this and neuvillette hadn't tasted heaven until the first time he ate you out.

your hands thread themselves in his hair as you moan out loud and they pull his head impossibly closer to your core. "oh! mmf!" and you feel tears begin to cloud your vision.

he didn't care that you were making a mess out of him, and he didn't care about how your arousal was all over his desk or all over his face.

though there is a sudden tightness in his pants, and it becomes more and more obvious to him, neuvillette continues to let you use his mouth. to let you reach that orgasm you oh so deserved because he wanted to be the cause of it.

୨୧ AL HAITHAM

❥₊ ⊹ “tsk… you’re such a distraction…” al haitham feigns annoyance. he brings his hands up to your thighs and pries them apart. "can't even read a book in peace around you, can i?"

"ah! 'm sorry... i just really needed you, al haitham." you mumble looking down your body and the view breathtaking.

al haitham had his head leaning against your left thigh, pressing open mouth kisses that were getting closer and closer to where you needed him most. while his left hand was rubbing lazy circles against your puffy clit.

"i can tell... you're dripping on the couch." he sighs. al haitham likes to act like he's bothered, when in reality he had already read that book more then ten times over for a research paper. he was secretly more than happy to please you, though he won't admit that outright.

al haitham leans down and presses a kiss to your pussy, then his lips wrap around your clit and begins to suck on it. he liked to take his time eating you out, to savour it. to savour you. and that meant not making your cunt a sopping mess until you beg him for it. but he won’t tease you all that much today seeing how badly you needed him.

you moan out, one hand of yours coming up and grabbing your own breast. "t-thank you. love you, love you so much al haitham!" you babble.

"love you too, baby..." he murmurs into your pussy. soon, his long fingers meet where his mouth is pleasuring you and they make their way into your little hole, thrusting in and out.

you swallow back a loud sob, remembering you're not entirely alone in your boyfriend's house, as if the sounds of al haitham eating up all your sloppy pussy has to offer isn't loud enough.

al haitham's fingers were making your head spin along with the way his tongue was moving over your clit. his digits were grazing that sweet spot inside of you and the sound of your hiccups only spur him on more.

"please, please! al haitham 'm gonna cum!" you sob.

"do it." he pulls back for a moment, "cum on my face..." then he dives back into your cunt, his tongue and fingers now working overtime to make you orgasm.

your hips begin to grind against his mouth and your chest heaves. "i-i'm cumming! oh my god!" you cry out as you orgasm, hot flashes of white makes it way across your abdomen and you make a mess everywhere. your arousal covered al haitham's face, his hands and your quivering thighs.

"you're so messy..." al haitham says as he moves up to your face.

"sorry..." you apologize.

"don't." he says sharply, not wanting you to feel bad. his lips then meet yours, and you taste yourself on his tongue. "we're going to do that again and this time, you're going to be louder."

#𐙚 works #genshin impact #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #al haitam x reader #wriothesley x you #neuvillette x you #al haitham x you #wriothesley smut #neuvillette smut #al haitham smut #genshin #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you

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bboricha · 1 year

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y...yes, sir! anything you say, sir! || bori's 1k special - part 1

➳ pairings: al haitham, ayato, baizhu, childe, cyno (separate) x subordinate afab!reader ➳ part 2 with diluc, heizou, tighnari, venti, and zhongli coming soon! ➳ cw: not proofread, a bit of power play (duh... they're your boss), oral (m and f!receiving), dry humping (on a shoe lol and mattress), exhibitionism, deep throating, swallowing, face fucking, dumbification, mentions of impregnation (ayato), marking, mentions of tying up hands, overstimulation, unprotected, aphrodisiac (baizhu), kinda dubcon, fingering, you're a cicin mage in childe's blurb, mention of marriage in ayato's, lmk if i've missed any...!

➳ synopsis: what would happen to you as their subordinate...?

al haitham x secretary afab!reader

you’ve met al haitham several times before… the whole mess all the sages have gotten themselves into. it was only natural, being the grand sage’s secretary and all, you would often deliver documents and knowledge capsules between the two of them. you never really thought too much of the man and neither did he think anything of you. sure, he was, well, younger than some of your colleagues, a vision holder, and… undeniably attractive.

maybe that’s why you’ve found yourself in this position. underneath the grand sage’s desk with a mouthful of the acting grand sage’s dick. you cannot believe the amount of control this man has talking to a matra with a straight face and unwavering voice despite being balls deep into your throat. not to mention, he keeps fucking his shoe against your clothed cunt and you’re absolutely sure that both his shoe and your panties are drenched at this point. you moan on his cock, the vibrations seemingly doing something for him as you hear his voice audibly hitch and his hand fly immediately for your hair, tugging at it as if to warn you.

it wasn’t your fault, it really wasn’t. if he would just stop using his shoe on you, order the matra to leave, and finally fuck you on his desk, you both wouldn’t be in this predicament. you’re almost led to believe that maybe he likes the idea of being caught, but then it dawns on you that he just actually likes seeing you anxious. this asshole only likes seeing you in this predicament, because he couldn’t care less about what others think about him. caution to the wind, you guess, and gulp down another whine, swallowing and stretching your throat out to make room for him even deeper as he digs the tip of his stiff sole against your clit.

you’re so close and you can feel that al haitham is too. with the way his dick is twitching in your mouth, you decide to speed up your ministrations and apparently so has al haitham. you tune in a bit, noticing that their conversation is about to end as he hits a certain spot, noticing you falter and begins to abuse it. it’s becoming harder and harder to stay quiet with how his shoe works itself so well against your cunt, your slick aiding in the feeling. you’re about to pull out to cover your mouth when you hear the door click shut as al haitham pushes your head, your nose hitting his abdomen with ropes of his cum sticking to your throat. you’re shaking at the feeling—at the fact that him using you like a fucking sleeve made that coil snap and you spill your essence all over his shoe.

he yanks you up from your knees before the cogs in your brain could generate another thought, forcing your mouth open by pushing down your tongue with his thumb, making sure you’ve swallowed every last drop.

“you’re a competent secretary, by the way. i can see why you were kept around—your services are much needed everyday in my office.”

kamisato ayato x retainer afab!reader

you grew up with the kamisatos, your family serving them as their retainers. your parents served the former heads while you were taught from a young age to serve their heirs. when the former kamisato heads had passed, your parents began to serve ayato, until he had dismissed them—told them they should retire and enjoy themselves—something he had wished his parents had the chance to do as well. and so you inevitably became his personal retainer again. not that you were complaining, no, but it was different from when the two of you were children. things like helping him bathe, get dressed, and aiding him at the crack of dawn—it just wasn’t the same anymore.

especially considering that tending to his nightly duties included him being balls deep inside of you. face down, ass up, your kimono disheveled and almost in tatters, ayato muttering something about how he’ll buy you a new one, one that he’ll personally pick out—to him, it’ll be a sign of ownership. he kept his focus on plowing into you, gripping your hips so hard every night that you’re afraid you might find indents of his fingers one day, your insides already having molded to the shape of his dick.

you’re biting his sheets, trying so hard to not make a noise when he pulls out, maneuvering you over onto your back. he slips a thumb into your mouth as you suckle on it, much to his enjoyment, as he tells you to not muffle yourself. he pushes his length back inside, bottoming out when he caresses his hand over the bulge, admiring the sight and drags his hand back to your hips (where it belongs) and begins thrusting yet once again. you’re full on moaning now, relishing in the way ayato hits every place that makes your eyes roll back with his fingers playing with your clit, making the coil in your stomach tighter and tighter with every thrust.

when your orgasm hits, your hands fly to your face in embarrassment, blocking out any sounds leaving your mouth and covering yourself so ayato doesn’t see what a blushing mess you are. he tsks to himself, one that you can hear, but quickly throws whatever thought he had away, replacing it with the idea that he has all night to rid of those hands that’s hiding your beauty from him. perhaps maybe with your obi, or maybe a bright, red rope? how about both? what other sounds will he be able to hear tonight, what cries will he be able to coax out of you, he wonders, melodies that he can’t wait to hear.

his cock twitches inside of you at his own imagination. he leans down, his body almost flush against yours as he kisses your temple, placing a hand on the top of your head as his thrusts suddenly increase in speed, signaling him close to release. you’re whining at the overwhelming sensation, biting into his shoulder to help muffle your moans when ayato stills, pushing himself as deep as he can reach as he cums inside, his warmth filling you up.

“if this sticks, maybe this will give you a reason to finally marry me.”

baizhu x assistant afab!reader

you’ve been baizhu’s helper since he saved your life a few years ago. he had found you battered up and injured when he was visiting qingce village. it was only after he took you back to bubu pharmacy to take care of you, a complete stranger, were you able to recover. you didn’t know how else to pay him back, nor did you really have anywhere else better to go, so you asked for him to take you in, and he obliged, greatly appreciating the help. he especially appreciates your help in aiding him develop a new medicine.

one that involves his hand in your underwear. he coated the “medicine” on his tips of his fingers before shoving it down your pants, caressing it against your clit, massaging the substance in your insides. he pushes a finger to your entrance slowly, coaxing it in as it begins to make you tingle, your body heating up. you’re starting to get needy, grabbing at baizhu’s wrist when he keeps going agonizingly slow, and to your surprise, he lightly pushes your hand off. he says you have to be patient, that he’s making sure you’re properly absorbing the medicine, that he doesn’t want to hurt you, telling you all of this with a grin, not showing any hint of concern.

he finally pushes in a second finger, making you cum instantly around his fingers to his delight. it’s working beautifully on you, perhaps a little too well when you grab the hem of his jacket as he’s about to pull away, asking for more. he wasn’t actually going to stop, it’s not like he went in this purely for research purposes, but the way your cheeks are flushed, beads of sweat dripping down into the crevices of your shirt, the rise and fall of your chest from him riling you up—it’s enticing. he’ll just have to make a mental note for later and tend to you now, after all, it’d be cruel of him to leave you like this when you’re asking so nicely, right?

he tells to come to the edge of the bed, enough so that your ass is almost hanging off as he peels off your underwear, watching how it clings to your messy cunt, sticky with your cum and slick. he wets his lips in anticipation, wondering how well your essence has soaked up the aphrodisiac as he licks a stripe up your pussy, groaning at the taste. he can already feel it getting to him as well, the residue or whatever was left on you, he figures, is still doing its job. either from the high of knowing how effective his medicine is or the effects really kicking in, he starts to eat you out with fervor, lapping up everything you have to give him, the noise so obscene that they bounce off the walls of his room.

you don’t have the time to feel ashamed by how loud it is, your hands going to tug on his hair as he grunts in response, the vibration of it ripples against you making you moan. he focuses his tongue on your clit, licking and suckling the tiny bud as he shoves two fingers into you, saying something about how you’re still tight even after an orgasm and his drug combined. he’s rutting himself against the mattress of his bed, his clothed cock desperate for any sort of friction as he feels you tightening up around his fingers for a second time tonight.

he curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out as he watches you unravel on his tongue, the sight one to behold. he gently fucks you on his fingers through your orgasm as he cums against his tight pants, slurping up your release as he stands up, unzipping himself to reveal his still hard length.

“there are still more tests to run, i’m afraid, before i can put this medicine on… our shelves, you see.”

childe x cicin mage afab!reader

you, a regular cicin mage, have been assigned to work closely under the 11th harbinger, tartaglia, your immediate response being nothing but a simple “fuck.” you’ve met the harbinger before and you immediately didn’t know how to feel about him. he was so… odd? so… kind? compared to the other harbingers at least, and on the contrary you actually felt the need to be even more wary with him. your first couple months working under him were quite fine. in fact, he was a great boss, he was kind and understanding and after a bit, you’ve completely adapted to being by his side.

that is until he drags you to a harbinger meeting, forcing you to sit next to him as he places a hand on your thigh, dangerously close to your crotch. he’s stroking the soft flesh, his pinky occasionally brushing over your clit, covered by your leotard. you’re lucky that the other harbingers can’t see what’s going on, though, they seemed to not care for your existence and presence at the meeting anyways. you try to brave up, attempting to push his hand away when he doesn’t relent, completely ignoring any signals you’ve been giving him, participating in the meeting as if he’s absolutely unfazed.

he goes from being subtle to shameless rubbing the nub, not hiding his intentions whatsoever, especially when he pushes your leotard to the side, playing with you skin to skin. your hands cover your mouth, not caring about what the other harbingers might think at this point when tartaglia dips a finger inside your entrance, slowly coaxing it in as he watches your expression, choosing to put in a second. the stretch is divine, two of his fingers already proving to be larger and deft, feeling better than whatever you might be able to do to yourself, and you’re confused. how is he touching you so skillfully? as if he’s already familiar with your walls and every crevice, curling the tips of his fingers to hit your favorite spot with every thrust.

you’re unaware of the obscene noises the two of you have been making, painfully unaware of how the jester has already brought this meeting to an end, some of the harbingers completely ignoring you both as they exit, others shaking their heads in disgust. you’re resting your head against your arms on the table, trying your best to hold in your moans despite having no reason to do so at this point while tartaglia gets more bold with his movements, ripping your leotard for better access and movement.

the squelching sounds and your heavy breaths bounce around the walls of the wide hall, ricocheting back towards you, only adding to your nearing release. tartaglia can feel the way you’re tightening around his fingers, fastening his ministrations until you cum. he groans at your pussy convulsing against him, the bulge in his pants growing larger and larger as he fucks you through your orgasm.

“darling, i think you’re gonna have to… work overtime tonight, am i clear?”

cyno x matra afab!reader

you’ve never really been a good subordinate, always skipping out on meetings as you deem them unnecessary, opting out on drinking with your colleagues, never listening to cyno. it’s not like you can help it, honestly. you have your own way of doing things and you still manage to get the job done regardless, so is there really any harm to your methods? technically no, and cyno has yet to really do anything substantial that could threaten your position, so you decide to test his patience.

his patience that apparently isn’t limitless, you’ve figured out. by…well, you know, the way he’s fucking you against the shelves in the house of daena. he’s keeping you captive, trapping your body with his as it takes all of your willpower and concentration to not make any noise—to not attract any attention towards you both. his chest is flush against yours, his cock fully submerged within you as you grip the shelf for some sort of purchase with one hand, the other desperately covering your mouth.

you can feel his breath, hear every groan that escapes his lips right next to your ear, the sensation only turning you on even further as his hand finds its way underneath your shirt, choosing to play with your nipple. he gives a particularly sharp thrust, as if he’s trying to elicit some sort of noise from you, saying something about how he’s been needing a reason to punish you, about he’s been waiting for this “opportunity” for a long time. his words are lost on you, could you not comprehend simple sentences anymore or was he spouting pure nonsense? you’re not sure, your head foggy from how slow he’s going, how he would suddenly snap his hips against yours, how sometimes he’d suckle on the nape of your neck or bite your shoulder, the figure eights on your clit, everything is driving you absolutely insane.

the general mahamatra, someone you figured whose sex drive was nonexistent, is throwing you for a loop today. someone who is more well endowed than you would’ve imagined, someone who’s filling you up oh so perfectly, the head of his dick kissing your cervix in ways that makes stars float right before your eyes.

at this point you’re tempted to place both of his hands on your hips, to urge him to fuck you right then and there in the house of daena, and you do, but all he does is grip your hips tightly, not budging an inch as he smirks against your shoulder.

“this is a punishment, remember? have i fucked you so stupid already that you’ve forgotten?”

➳ an: wow look at all those tags! also i literally have no idea why childe's banner thingy is so fkn blurry compared to the others... akhdkahsd

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#bboricha*:･ﾟ✧#bori writes*:･ﾟ✧#bori genshin*:･ﾟ✧#milestones*:･ﾟ✧#genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #al haitham smut #al haitham x reader #ayato x reader #ayato smut #kamisato ayato x reader #kamisato ayato smut #baizhu smut #baizhu x reader #childe x reader #childe smut #cyno smut #cyno x reader #genshin impact smut

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harmonysanreads · 1 year

Text

Thinking about Yandere!Sumeru Boys and the sweet, lovely bartender who's become the talk of Sumeru recently.

After receiving the news of the Sage's downfall and Lesser Lord Kusanali's rescue, you, who'd been out venturing Teyvat to learn about its global gastronomy and arts, decide to return to your homeland and help your father's busy Tavern. The knowledge you've gained from your travels prove to be fruitful as Lambad's Tavern reaches a new peak of popularity. Though, not everyone's point of interest is the menu — no no, in fact, many have become frequent patrons simply to get a glimpse of the new face behind the counter.

You and Kaveh click almost immediately. Your shared views on arts and beauty is one thing checked off, but the way your actually understand him? Unlike most people when they hear his story, you're not quick to put a lable on him ; instead, you make him feel heard and normal for the very first time. Listen patiently and don't throw factual advice on how to fix his life. No wonder he poured out his entire life story to you, all on his first conversation. He's left wondering where you've been all his life as you share a portion of your own struggles, views on life and snippets of your adventures. To this day, Kaveh recalls the conversation along with your benign smile and feels his heart thump as if he's become a teenager again.

Every ensuing visit to the Tavern has his belief strengthen as well : you two must be soulmates. He's even started (half) jokingly calling you one as well, which never seems to move you the way he wants though as, all you do is adorably giggle and ask him to pay for his order. Oh well, he supposes that's an indication that you do not pity him solely because of his financial status. Kaveh's life had gotten a lot better with your presence ; he no longer drinks himself to oblivion, sleeps better than before and doesn't even pay heed to his roommate's sharp comments that'd otherwise end in a massive argument, thoughts preoccupied with what kind of trinket he could bring to impress you. For a brief period, Kaveh had felt like he'd finally found his light, his reason to keep living. He'd only wish he hadn't introduced his friends to you.

You first ‘officially’ met the dusty-rock-of-a-roommate of Kaveh (his words) when you took the responsibility of dropping him to his place of residence after the architect had passed out from taking a sip of the Sneznayan Fire-Water. You weren't sure what you were expecting from Alhaitham, but a talk over books that spiralled a little too late into the night and ended with him walking you back home certainly wasn't it. You can see where Kaveh came from, The Acting Grand Sage did not have the countenance that invited friendships. You'll have to thank your profound interest in all genres of books and an equal ease to share your opinions to not be at the recipient of that attitude. It takes you a little too much time to notice that since that night, the Scribe has found himself a second home in your radar. You see him at Puspa Cafe, the Grand Bazar, the streets and after a little while, even at your father's Tavern almost frequently. So much so, that calling him something of a friend might not be as far-fetched now.

In Alhaitham's defense, he's simply intrigued, it's not everyday he meets someone who can keep up with him. It took him only a glance at you to realize you're the person who has Kaveh blushing and giggling like a madman at random times. The architect's creepy behavior aside, at least, it seemed as though some of your sense of responsibility had rubbed off on him so, less headache for Alhaitham. You're easy to talk to ; granted, you don't always have agreements but that doesn't pose as an impediment from keeping the conversation flowing. In fact, you treat him no different ; neither his status nor his prolonged disappearances that'd no doubt affect anyone else can change your easygoing persona as he approaches you, the coffee and dishes you make are rather good too and— ah. Alhaitham understands now why Kaveh is so smitten with you.

Lambad's Tavern is a prominent destination for fans of Genius Invocation TCG, you like the game, too. But because of your duty, you can only resign yourself to watching from the counter as some rejoiced in victory and others had their heads in their hands from loss. It's entertaining to a degree, frustrating to another as you have to remain silent while the players make dumb choices. You digress, whatever they do is none of your business. But if you had to pick one group that produced the most entertaining show out of this game ; it'd be the friends Kaveh brought along with him. Most of the times, they'd just be reduced to Kaveh's ranting pillows and really, only one of them—and by that you mean the General Mahamatra who seemed to truly care for the game. You're curious about him, actually. He seemed so different from the rumours that were floating around. And thanks to Kaveh's impulsive announcement that you'd be dueling Cyno one night, you had the opportunity to satiate that curiousity — and flex a win against the master of TCG altogether.

To say Cyno was flabbergasted would be the understatement of the century. He'd repeatedly demanded for a second match that time (all the while Kaveh looked like he could die of pride) but you'd shut it off with the (not really) threat of charging extra for your lost time. Since then, he'd been hot on your tail, too. Trying to coax you into a second match with every strategy he can think of : bribing, bargaining, cracking awful jokes to befriend you — his hard work paid off, but the sight of a win against you still seemed to be far. At one point, those concerns were lost as you both simply found fun in each other's presence. Cyno, in the meantime, had noticed that your amiable personality was both a blessing and a curse. Do you not see the corrupt glints in their eyes? The wanton touches and disgusting saccharine lacing their words? No can do, they do not deserve your courtesy. Do not blame him for taking matters into his own accounts or show any semblance of concern after the personnel mysteriously disappear the next day ; its just a little favor for his TCG buddy.

Out of all of them, Tighnari took you the longest to get to know properly. Given his usually passive personality in the presence of others, no wonder he'd strayed a little from your attention. The forest ranger wasn't behind in knowing you, though. In fact, it seemed as though he had been picking up on clues his other friends were missing. Tighnari had been the first to take notice of your ennui, which he had surmised to be a result of all the people you have to deal with everyday. Turns out even you have your moments. One evening as Kaveh, Cyno and Alhaitham were preoccupied with debating over who-knows-what, Tighnari took the opportunity to approach you about it. He couldn't ignore the darkening circles under your eyes or the brightness in your optics dimming any longer — he's glad he did ; in truth, your life had gotten crazier than it was back when you were traveling, you'd confessed. You no longer felt truly...alone, even in moments that you're sure is securely private. Tighnari listened intently, for once the roles being switched. He sent hand-made remedies to help with your stress, frequently wrote to you to check your well being when he couldn't visit personally, anything within his power.

He felt sympathy for your state, such a precious person like you doesn't deserve this, you should be treated better, he could treat you better — now if only you're at arms reach to the forest ranger. Alas, for now he'd have to be content with this development. Tighnari has an inkling about who is, or are, responsible for your building misery. Does he intent to do anything with that knowledge though? Yes, coaxing you to his side, preferably.

The innocent, nameless wandering boy you'd taken with you on your return to Sumeru, suddenly returned home with a glowing anemo vision in the span of a few hours one fine afternoon. Nothing really seemed out of the ordinary though, he was still as glued to your person (though nowadays he seemed to venture out more than usual), he was still the harmless boy you'd grown accustomed to. So then, why did it feel like something was amiss? Was it how often he'd find himself at the brink of an angry customer's fist? Or was it because that only occurs when you leave the counter to get something and that same customer just so happened to have been pushing you for a date beforehand? Your suspicions always end up fleeting though, you can never even raise an eyebrow at the boy, not when he looks at you with those glossy puppy eyes. In the end, it's always the other man that's handed over to the guards, it's always the others, in general at the face of your displeasure — not Wanderer, never Wanderer. If only you could see the same grin he directs at the retreating men behind your unassuming back.

You never did regret letting him trail behind your person (except maybe the bombarding allegations from your family of him being your significant other, it took one whole week to convince them otherwise, after all.) ; he was sweet and so.. clueless, as if he were but a newborn child. Your heart couldn't resist the poor thing and that's what brought you to this situation. Wanderer revels in the others' jealousy at the sight of you two's closeness (who could guess this same man had tried to take over Sumeru). He can do many of the things your other admirers can only dream of ; lean on your shoulder, fall asleep on your lap, play with your hair as you prepare a drink, whisper things in your ear with a purposefully lowered voice and get away with anything. All is well with the lost boy you'd picked up from the last turn of your travels, it's just that, you can't quite shake off the feeling of a strange familiarity everytime you look at his otherwordly eyes.

what do you call this? a love hexagon? 🤔

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