#Genshin impact x reader

[zhongrin]

honey, can you… oh shit wait i forgot we’re not dating (yet)

© zhongrin | 2024 ✼  [✘] no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. [✓] rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, al haitham, wriothesley, neuvillette

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, fluff, non-established relationship, potential secondhand embarrassment, boyfailure neuvillette (/aff)

✼ a/n ┈ zhongrin uploaded 3 weeks in a row?! madness!!! utter madness!!!! /silly i feel like i've been writing too much cutesy/sfw stuff lately.... i want to write 'darker' types of stuff but my brain doesn't seem to want to cooperate ugh pain

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

zhongli watches your reaction closely, at first.

when he deduces that you were self-aware of your own oversight and are evidently panicking about it, he gives you a warm chuckle and shakes his head gently, “there is no need to apologize, and please do not feel mortified in any way. it really is fine.”

if you continue to not believe him, the ex-archon will be as patient as ever with his words of reassurances, and he does not mind repeating them until you feel comfortable enough to ask him the real errand that you wished to bestow upon him.

... but not before he gently places a hand to the small of your back to lead you to walk a little closer to him due to the increasing crowd on the streets, his voice a tender caress to your ear, “coming from you, i certainly did not mind the nickname.”

al haitham raises his eyebrows and shuts his book, “what a fascinating blunder. is that how you view our relationship subconsciously? or perhaps it’s an innate desire you’ve chosen to suppress but accidentally slipped out in a moment of unawareness?”

the scholar has the decency to wait for your answer betwixt your embarrassment, but he eventually sighs when you failed to form a coherent answer that satisfied his inquiries.

“you seem to have the impression that i am displeased at your err. i’d like to inform you that your assumption is yet another mistake - which, i would theorize, was made in the rush of the moment as your nervous system kicks into gear, therefore clouding your judgement. i would suggest you take a few moments to reanalyze my stance based on this new information. i’ll wait.”

and with that, he opens his book once more.

.... um.

congratulations, i guess?

wriothesley takes the opportunity and replies with a cheeky, “yes, honey? what can i do for you, sweetheart?”

he relishes in the utter embarrassment that quickly spread across your face that’s akin to water faced with his cryo elemental energy (though secretly he’s also dying inside at the cheesiness of the situation) and throws you a boyish grin before ruffling your hair.

not a man to let an opportunity escape, the duke decides to leverage the moment to take his metaphorical shot and goes immediately for a straight jab, like an experienced boxer that he is, all the while praying to the hydro archon so that this would be yet another match he could flawlessly win, “you know, my schedule’s particularly relaxed today… i wouldn’t mind staying longer if you want to make it a date?”

neuvillette blinks owlishly, his pale cheeks blooming with warmth as the situation starts to sink in. you, the apple of his eye, whom he treasured dearly and had taken great care to court, had just called him with a term of endearment that he had always dreamed of hearing.

wait, was this a dream? his gloved hands quickly found purchase on his blue horns, before he brought his hands in front of his eyes. okay, he had two horns and ten fingers, still. so he must not have daydreamed this. ah- wait, you’re staring at him. oh, now you’re giggling. and now you’re calling him silly. oh, it should be a crime to be so breathtakingー

it’s not until your expression changed into surprise that he realized he had said that thought outloud.

your teasing “if it’s a crime, are you going to put me on trial, monsieur?” elicits a darker blush on his pale cheeks and an awkward cough out of him.

.... this must be how the young ones flirt nowadays.

“perhaps after a proper date? if it’s not impertinent of me, may i be allowed to take you out on dinner tonight?”

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #zhongli x reader #al haitham x reader #wriothesley x reader #neuvillette x reader #zhongli #al haitham #wriothesley #neuvillette #rin writes #honey can you…

[maopll]

thinking about husbands who have a habit of running their fingers over your wedding rings.

whenever he would be working, his eyes would snatch glances at the golden band around his finger, symbolising your marriage and oath to live together forever and grow old together.

he would sometimes go into deep thought, remembering the day when you two finally exchanged vows while he kisses the band and holds it close to his chest.

His heart would giddy up at the thought of a spouse waiting for him at his home and sometimes he would even quiver at the thought of you.

Thinking about how there would be a stark change in his personality because now he can't keep you waiting for too long because he misses you too much

imagine how he celebrates a small "monthsary" with you by gifting you your favourite flowers or anything that you ever mentioned to him about how you wanted to get.

He would wake up every morning with you right beside him and he just can't help but feel a warmth surge up inside his heart, a shade of pink evidently dusting his kissable cheeks.

thinking about how he shares basically everything of his with you. starting from his clothes to even his shoes, pens, you name it. also how he would notice you feeling cold when you two would be out for date nights and how he would remove his coat and drape it over you shoulder, his scent, the familiar scent of that one cologne he always wears, wafts through the air and fills your senses.

— WRIOTHESLEY, alhaitham, ZHONGLI, KAEYA, neuvillette, DILUC, ayato, CHILDE, kazuha, GEPARD, Dan heng, DR RATIO, AVENTURINE, vil, MALLEUS, AZUL, MAMMON, DIAVOLO

tagging: @fictoculus @poison-demon @mitsvriii @pianopuppygirl @sleepy-waffle @imhere2dosomething

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #wriothesley x reader #alhaitham x reader #zhongli x reader #kaeya x reader #neuvillette x reader #diluc x reader #ayato x reader #kazuha x reader #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #gepard x reader #dr ratio x reader #aventurine x reader #dan heng x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #vil x reader #malleus x reader #azul x reader #obey me x reader #mammon x reader #diavolo x reader #obey me!

[angelsrcute]

Imagine Albedo fucking you so good that you're reduced to a crying mess, worshipping your body like you're some God. Rough thrusts as his teeth nibble at your ear, whispering dirty things. Your back arched, his dick hitting your sweet spots making you mewl his name in pleasure. Thumb drawing slow circles on your clit as he fucks his cum back into your cunt, both of your hair disheveled with sweat. He presses some more kisses to you, his lips connecting with yours with a demanding kiss.

Only for your lover to meet you the next day in the streets of Mondstadt, all confused, “Me? I apologize, Y/N, but I wasn't in my lab due to some work, I'm sure i wasn't there the whole day. What are you talking about?”

#genshin impact smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x female reader #genshin impact x you #albedo x reader #albedo smut #albedo x you #albedo x y/n #𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄'𝐒 :: 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 (ᵔ◡ᵔ)

[daosies]

l(over)

when someone else flirts with you in front of them.

heizou, wanderer, neuvillette ♡ gn!reader

warnings: not proofread, neuvillette may be ooc, wanderer is a little crazy 😊

notes: i played heizous hangout quest and he got me 😭😭

frankly, heizou is amused.

"you're beautiful," some random stranger states, "do you happen to be free this weekend?"

you blink in confusion, glancing back and forth between the detective and the strange person. does he not see the way heizou's hand is linked with yours?

"well, someone clearly isn't a detective," heizou states, not bothering to lower the volume of his voice. when the person still doesn't quite understand what heizou means, he lifts your laced hands up to eye-level, emphasizing the fact that he's not letting go anytime soon.

"please don't interrupt," the stranger states, suddenly feigning ignorance to heizou's presence.

"oh!" heizou exclaims, unbothered. "sorry about that!" you can tell by the look on his face and the tone of his voice that shikanoin heizou is, in fact, not sorry. he's not sorry at all.

heizou brings the back of your hand up to his lips, staring directly at the stranger whilst doing so. still, the random man does not budge.

"what's up with this guy?" heizou mumbles, loud enough for just you to hear. you laugh, and heizou can't seem to tear his eyes away from you, his gaze belonging wholly to your existence.

when the stranger glares at him, heizou merely shrugs, a smirk fixed onto his face. the oblivious person then turns to you, a gentle smile on his face.

"might i have the honor of knowing your name? i am kenzaburou kadenokouji, and seeing you has blessed me with the inspiration to write my greatest upcoming novel: 'i was reincarnated as the raiden shogun's plane of euthymia, where i did nothing for 500 years before finally meeting the love of my life in the middle of the city?!'"

your mouth hangs agape, flabbergasted at this surreal experience.

heizou, however, is not fazed in the slightest. "is this based off of true events?"

"do not interrupt an artist's craft," kadenokouji replies, before extending a hand towards your free one.

so he knows i'm holding their hand, is all heizou thinks. without another thought, the detective pushes the writer's palm away, tugging you towards him.

"you're going to need to find inspiration from someone else! my intuition tells me that this isn't going to work out," heizou declares, his thumb coming to rub the back of your hand, as if he's trying to reassure you.

(you think that it's more for him, though. because although heizou is a self-assured, confident man, he is sometimes shrouded deeply in fear, swayed by the same emotions that make him so human, so lovely.)

(it also doesn't help that you adore novels. a majority of heizou's worries are attributed to how you devour those absurd reincarnation stories.)

"no, no... together," kadenokouji trails off, dismissing heizou with the flick of his hand. "together, we will defy fate! and with you, beautiful stranger, i will publish the greatest novel known to inazuma!"

"he's delusional," heizou mutters, but it sounds as if he's more impressed than incredulous.

"i have a boyfriend," you reply, still recovering from shock. "he's right next to me."

kadenokouji takes it the wrong way. "wow, you move pretty fast! although we just met, and i still don't know your name, i am completely fine with this sudden turn of events!"

"wow," heizou mutters to himself, almost amazed, "this guy's pretty good."

"he's like the opposite of you," you whisper, leaning closer towards heizou, "completely oblivious."

that gives heizou an idea.

"sorry pal, but they only like detectives," he declares.

"that's okay! i've been meaning to write a detective novel, you know, i am always switching things up!" kadenokouji exclaims, not taking the hint (but it's not even a hint, it's a full blown answer).

"oh, really? have you ever heard of shikanoin heizou?"

you and heizou exchange not-so-discreet glances (it's not like kadenokouji notices, anyway). heizou winks at you, as if urging you to stay quiet so he can get the spotlight in a novel that he's always been dreaming of.

"yes, yes! i love doushin shikanoin's work—in fact, i've been meaning to ask him for some information regarding his famous intuition! i plan on basing the main character of that novel off of him, really!"

"that sounds great! you know, doushin shikanoin believes that he needs the publicity, so your novel would be the perfect match!"

"is that really so? that's incredible! i must reach out to him immediately!" kadenokouji says, his attention belonging wholly to this newfound idea.

"i can relay the message to him," heizou replies, "what would you like to ask?"

"yes, thank you! please ask him if he's willing to meet me outside the tenryou commission for an hour or two for me to ask questions! and if he's willing to tell me about his intuition and how it works! my novel's main character will also have something akin to his intuition, but not exactly because i am always original and meaningful with my work—"

"alright, i will!" heizou declares proudly, "he'll hear of it by today!"

"thank you, kind sir! if i might be so bold to inquire, what is your name?" kadenokouji asks, suddenly becoming heizou's biggest fan whilst forgetting about your presence. how the tables have turned.

"shikanoin heizou," he states, the smile on his face never wavering. "my intuition tells me you're going to fall to the floor in utter shock!"

his intuition, as always, is correct. kadenokouji collapses to the floor as if he had just witnessed the most terrible thing, all the color draining from his face while his jaw hangs wide open.

"d-doushin shikanoin?!"

"that's me! also, could you include me in the novel's credits? you know, being a detective isn't always just about skill. in this day and age, we need publicity! we need a name for ourselves!"

kadenokouji faints.

"did you come from another world?" someone asks. "'cause you look otherworldly."

"that was ridiculous," wanderer mutters, "and redundant."

"is he bothering you, your highness?" the person queries, taking a step towards you. their hand reaches out for yours, as if they're trying to take you away, but wanderer is quick to intervene.

he blocks you with his figure, the vision on his chest beginning to glow vividly as a gust of wind rushes through the akademiya's library, sending papers and books flying. scholars panic as their research projects flutter all across the marble floor, and usually, that'd be enough to deter a sane man.

unfortunately for you, your admirer (the other one) is no sane man. you suppose that you attract a certain group of people.

"so you think you're a big shot 'cause you have a vision, huh?" the stranger asks, unimpressed.

"hah! you don't even know who you're talking to," wanderer replies, clenching his fists. he takes a step toward your admirer, the air around him becoming tense and unwelcoming as it begins to manifest into something grim, something violent.

you're not in the mood for a suspension right now.

"wanderer!" you exclaim, tugging at his sleeve. "let's go somewhere else. this guy's just weird."

"you go first. i have things to deal with," wanderer replies, irritated. but the way he looks at you doesn't quite match the tone in his voice, because when the wanderer's cornflower pupils fixate on you, they melt. you mold him into something quiet, something lovely, when you do so much as exist.

briefly, the wind brushes past your face, kissing you with its tender touch.

(all you have to do is exist, and that'll be more than enough for him.)

"he's not worth your time," you say, not releasing your hold on the puppet's wrist. even though wanderer could easily escape your grip, he chooses not to—instead, he basks in your touch, inching closer towards you, letting you hold the strings of his artificial limbs to move him as you please.

wanderer relinquishes himself to you. wholly. and he trusts you with his fate, with his severed strings.

"whatever."

his severed string manifests anew, wrapping around his pinky and yours, turning red—not red from blood, but rather, from love—and knotting.

you are bound to him.

and then he gives in.

(he does a lot of that when it comes to you.)

"surrendering already, huh?" the stranger asks, clearly not knowing his place. "i knew you were nothing but bark."

oh, you think, sighing, this guy's an idiot!

"does the akademiya accept anyone who applies?" wanderer asks, contemplating murder. still, he doesn't release himself from your hold.

"that's what i was thinking when i saw you. leave us alone!"

a category 5 hurricane begins to brew in the akademiya library at the word "us." scholars begin to evacuate the premises whilst the insane man stands amidst it all, still trying his best to court you despite getting blown away.

i tried my best, you tell yourself, glancing away.

you let go of wanderer's hand, and then you close your eyes.

"let me know when you're done," you mutter, voice drowned by the whistle of the winds and the screams of scholars whose projects are getting engulfed by the storm.

wanderer, of course, hears you. he can always hear you, picking out your voice from the cacophony, taking the sound and placing it deep within his empty chest, letting it resonate and replay there. instead of a heartbeat, wanderer has your voice echoing throughout his torso, fusing into his artificial ribs.

he is bound to you.

a breeze wisps past your nose. even with the whirling winds and the threat of suspension lingering around your figure, no harm ever comes your way.

you are in the eye of the hurricane.

the eye of the beholder. it melts.

neuvillette is flabbergasted.

back in fontaine, he had the luxury of comfort. everyone knew that the two of you were together, so he never had to deal with someone trying to court you, much less in front of him.

this is how he experiences culture shock. not by the customs of other nations, but rather, by the sheer audacity that some people have. especially when your hand is laced tightly with his.

"i think... i think..." the stranger trails off, his voice filled with an adoration that makes neuvillette's stomach churn. "... i'm getting lost in your eyes, beautiful."

the stranger reaches his hand out to give you a rose, a dashing grin on his face. you smile awkwardly.

"sorry, i'm taken."

"taken... by my good looks?" the stranger asks, putting a hand under his face to emphasize his features. neuvillette squeezes your hand.

"no, they are taken by me. we are partners," neuvillette explains, his tone remaining polite.

"partners in work?"

"yes, but—" neuvillette starts, but is quickly interrupted. you spare him an endearing glance, charmed by his honesty.

the tips of his pointed ears begin to blossom red. again, he squeezes your hand.

"no, we are married," you state blandly, and the stranger's gaze flickers over to your hands, searching for a ring. neuvillette doesn't like the look on the stranger's face; it's evident in the way the iudex narrows his eyes, the way he steps forward a little even though he'd usually try to avoid confrontation.

"i could get you a ring," the stranger says, clearly not getting the hint, "and you wouldn't have to lie about being married."

"there is nothing we owe to you that requires us to prove our marriage. we are married, and that is all you need to know," neuvillette declares firmly, his tone becoming harsh.

"but words alone don't mean anything," the stranger replies with a shrug.

neuvillette furrows his brows, clearly stumped by the stranger's statement. he disagrees—words don't mean everything, but they are definitely worth something.

"just back off," you suddenly chime in, tugging neuvillette closer to you. he lets you string him along to your whims, allowing his figure to inch towards yours, finding its place by your side.

"i'm not interested in you. i already have a lover."

the stranger rolls his eyes.

"ugh. i didn't even like you anyway."

neuvillette frowns. "now that is completely incorrect. just moments prior, you were—"

"just shut up!" the stranger yells, not even bothering to listen to neuvillette's explanation.

clouds begin to form.

"let's go, neuvillette," you say, rubbing the back of the iudex's hand with your thumb. "don't worry too much about that guy."

he looks at you, and the sun emerges.

"you're right. thank you, [name]."

a ring dangles from the silver chain on your neck; it's a vibrant shade of blue.

it glows.

"and you wanted to try this land's water, right?"

he lets you string him along, a gentle smile on his face.

"yes," he vows, "i do."

his hand slots perfectly into yours, and the world is engulfed by a radiant glow.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin #heizou x reader #heizou x you #shikanoin heizou #genshin heizou #neuvillette x you #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x y/n #wanderer x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer genshin

[mtchacffinz]

what a blunder!

prompt!!! Arlecchino personally deals with your unwanted marriage proposal in her own unique way.

content!!! fem!reader x arlecchino, SFW, impatient arlecchino, violence mentioned, marriage proposal, possessive arlecchino

note!!! "Farlahr" is a made up character for the sake of this ficlet. The Doctor here is NOT Dottore. something about arlecchino tweaking and losing a few screws is so hot to me so here you go girls this one is for my strap on arlecchino riders 🙏 im so normal

"He told me that if I consider him as my betrothed, I would be set for life." You smile up at her, albeit nervous. "Huh? Oh— Where are you going?"

Long empty corridors could carry even the faintest whispers. The moon peeks from the shadows, it's serene light softly caressing the harbingers figure— still, quiet, tensed. Her heels clang echoing all throughout the corridor, her gaze that was pinned straight forward seemed to pierce through the thick air surrounding the atmosphere.

Long empty corridors could carry even the faintest whispers, and Arlecchino failed to notice she started to hear her uneven breathing.

Peculiar. Truly peculiar..

"Right this way, Ma'am." Arlecchino set her gaze towards the head butler, greeted with the sight of a tensed figure in return. The head butler winces, stammering on his words. Was she glaring? She doesn't know. That's not important. She's needs to get through the door. "I- I will inform the Master of your arrival—"

"That will not be necessary." Her sultry voice cut through his words. "We have been long collaborators, a reunion shan't wait too long."

Her monochromatic figure heaves a soft breath, looking blankly towards the excessively pretentious door, it's sheer size looming over Arlecchino's figure— the entrance towards an office.

Eloquent and graceful, although her lips were painted with a polite smile, the person before her couldn't tell if the crimson woman was brewing something from within. The Knave was calculative and perceptive, an expert at keeping herself cold despite the scorching flames imbedded within her. The man kept his gaze at the floor, lacking the courage to even contest her gaze.

Those eyes, terrifying crimson hued crosses that could mess with your head tried to dare his optics to even catch a small gaze. Staring into them was ill advised indeed. The butler knew this for his heart was racing, and what added to the cold sweat undeniably trickling in his jaw was that Arlecchino stood unnervingly still— as if contemplating something under deep thought. Before anything could be done, Arlecchino firmly gripped the mansion door's handles in a few momemts, swinging it open with great force.

There had always been an air of nobility in Arlecchino's presence. As soon as she stepped foot into Farlahr's office, the doctor stood up in shock, startled.

"Please, excuse my abrupt visit, Doctor." Arlecchino deliberately spat out the title, a composed smile tugged at her lips. Farlahr's eyes widen at the sight of her monochromatic elegance painting his mansion floors with her presence.

"You're not too busy, I presume? Do let us catch up, I insist— I truly do." It was way beyond the wee hours of the night, the breeze was cold and unforgiving, and the doctor could feel it crawling up his spine. The Harbingers assertive words leave no room for arguments. As if there was an invisible wind from the room, forcing every bit of his movements to bend at her own will.

"I admit that it's quite off fashion to visit at this hour empty handed, Lord Harbinger." The man chuckled in an attempt to disperse the growing tension in the air. He swings his hands— decorated with glimmering stones to mask his nervousness. The woman quickly responded.

"I won't be empty handed for long."

"Pardon, Lord Harbinger?"

Arlecchino doesn't clarify any further, but directs her unwavering gaze to him. Dark, piercing. It was like a warning, a ticking bomb for the doctor to diffuse except there seemed to be no signs of dismissal any time soon.

His crisp smile quickly dropped.

"...I merely jest." Farlahr quickly followed up, as if it was the most amusing joke in the world. Arlecchino doesn't seem to share the same opinion, as her expression stood the same. Whatever The Knave came here for, he doesn't know just yet. And if he fails to catch on, Farlahr just might lose something. His head fell from the deep crevices of his panicked mind falling into one topic he suddenly could bring up as distraction.

With their history of collaborative partnership of 13 years, Arlecchino didn't have a single problem in regards to the business and it's contributions to the House of Hearth. Arlecchino didn't care for his obsessions with women and adulterous activities, the poised lady simply stood her ground due the information the Doctor withheld about the history of medical fallacies and treatments alike.

Arlecchino's rigid gaze quickly looked relaxed, unbothered. Her voice had voice lowered and her arms and legs sit crossed.

"I came here to offer a deal."

"And that is?"

It was no surprise to Arlecchino that Farlahr was a worldly man. Riches to riches, he has re-married at least three times and he's proud of that. Arlecchino didn't bother to comprehend his thought process. She believes that his brain was processed waste ideally converged with multiple nerves. His body reeked of metals, teeth gleaming brightly with silver. She kind of wishes she could rip it all out of his jaw..

"You will retract your marriage proposal." Arlecchino starts, "And I say this, your wealth, status, and people— all safeguarded as per usual."

Farlahr was taken aback by the sudden demand. He doesn't know if her statement stemmed from concern for his safety or a wake up call to his unethical hobbies. The opportunist in him say the opposite, it says that maybe you are some sort of leverage in this world— so valuable that even the 4th Harbinger of then fatui would personally come and abolish his plans of marrying you.

But the curiosity of his consciousness gnaws it's way out of his lips, asking one particular question.

"You disapprove of my wife and I?"

How disgusting. Utterly repulsive. Its almost an offense to your whole existence to be called a wife to someone as repugnant as him. The monochromatic grace managed to suppress her disgust by responding in a more poignant tone.

"Ah, forgive me." Arlecchino very slowly tilts her head, eyes unblinking. She effortlessly stands up from her seat, her coat elegantly swaying with her refined and poised movements, breath light as a feather— a shadow cast on her face.

"But I don't disapprove of your proposal, pig." In a moment, there was a switch in her tone. Her pointed high heels shoes dragged themselves against the expensive velvet carpet, dreaming to at least peirce through the back of a certain crisp, fragile cranium. With every step closer Arlecchino gets, the more Farlahr's heart pounds in his chest, daring to jump off.

She raises a hand and firmly places them on his shoulder.

"...I forbid it."

Serenity was all that could be described throughout the night. And you, as a person of idle leisure in the evening, appreciated the tranquil breeze that brush past your cheek. A soft sigh escapes your lips, falling into deep thought. What is there to do? With the last 28 hours you were given to decide on an answer, you're left quite bewildered. Tapping your fingernails on the terrace by muscle memory, your train of thought was disturbed when you head familiar foot steps behind you.

You turn around to see a sight of dignified beauty, standing before your sleepless eyes. Arlecchino's presence, despite the abruption, quickly calmed your disgruntled nerves down.

But something was wrong. Before you could ask about the residual crimson stains on her cheek and darkened hands, she speaks in a tone softer than any voice you've heard her.

"If I may ask, my dove, could you marry someone with an absent ring finger?"

Wow. What a random question. Completely uncalled for. Maybe the ungodly hours of the night got to her? Despite the conspiracies flowing through your mind, you try hard to think of an answer.

"Hmm. I should rephrase that. Could you marry a man with no fingers?" Arlecchino ponders out loud, "Despite a marriage contract, you must need a ring to put on his finger, right? Quite a shame, really.."

"No, I don't think so. Wedding rings are to be put on ring fingers, if I recall correctly."

"That's a relief." You raise a brow, completely lost. You gaze at Arlecchino, a subtle triumphant look paints her expression, her fingers play around with her numerous rings that sit comfortably on her fingers. Taking one out, she approaches your figure.

"May I embrace you, my lady?" Suddenly, the Harbingers sultry voice was sullen, sulking. My, what's up with this woman? A moment ago she shows up with (possibly) blood around her person, and now she's asking for sudden physical contact? After just a consonant of the reply 'Yes' was uttered, Arlecchino quickly took you in her arms, embracing you deeply— taking in your presence wholely.

"How I wish I could rid you the scent of that swine." She loosens her grip for a moment, putting a stray hair strand behind your ear. All this feels like a fever dream.. you remember that just mere hours ago, Arlecchino's face looked grim and unpleasant when she received news of your sudden proposal— her reaction left you perplexed. You thought it would be a good idea since Farlahr was a good business partner of hers, why the grim expression?

You pat her back comfortingly. Before you could say anything, Arlecchino quickly lets go of you, standing perfectly straight. Her face once again unreadable— she speaks in a calm and collected manner.

"That fool said that if you'd marry him, you would be set for life." She recounts, almost irritated. Arlecchino's crimson crosses gaze was away from you, but hands traced their way back to your arms, carefully holding them in hers. Her thumbs brush the back of your hands affectionately, with tenderness and care in her voice. Arlecchino's knee made contact with the floor, and her hands delicately handled yours as if they were the most precious thing in the world.

"You must marry me. All he could offer you, I could provide tenfold."

All of the sudden, the wind started to pick up, and the ethereal lady before you never looked so grand. Her monochromatic hair danced with the cool breeze, and her crimson eyes looked from above, transfixed on your figure. Your throat felt like there was too many words you could spit out in one go, and you were terrified that you'd ruin the atmosphere by stammering over your words.

"Marry me so you are mine to gratify. This is a promise I can keep, unlike that farce. Even at your grave, my everlasting flames will be buried with you in the dirt where you lay— in turn that you will never freeze from the cold kiss of death." The Harbinger adds, tenderly placing a peck on your knuckles. Her gaze could contest even the eyes of Archons at this very moment, possessing full confidence that upholds the standards of her capabilities.

Compared to her, what could a limbless man offer you?

my dumbass just woke up and decided to edit it a bit cus I was writing this at like, 3AM LMAOO, hello (⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴗ⁠ꈍ⁠) its me again, just dipping my toes in the water to see if I could still write 🤔

#arlecchino #genshin impact #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino fluff #arlechinno genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader

[vnusoki]

WOULD THEY BURN THE WORLD FOR YOU ?

simply to put it, he wouldn’t. it doesn’t mean he loves you any less. no, he’s reminded of how much he loves you when your making love to each other, or when he gives you a light peck on your cheek in passing and he sees the blush rise on your cheeks. he loves you so much, his heart couldn’t handle it. but he’s a good man. he wouldn’t burn the world down for you. he has a right moral compass and though he may be mm madly in love with you, he’d let you go for the greater good, tears streaming down his face as he holds the knife that would end your life, and admittedly, save everyone and still, he cries because he knows it’s the right thing yet he so desperately does not want to do it. he knows any other option would result in the death of innocents and he knows his hero heart couldn’t take it. and so, he lets you go…

IZUKU MIDORIYA, aizawa shota, KATSUKI BAKUGOU, zhongli, xiao, AYATO KAMISATO, wriothisoley, NEUVILLETTE, thoma, ITADORI YUJI, NANAMI KENTO, ino takuma, HIROMI HIGURUMA + your faves . . . ?

there the opposite. he would burn the down for you. regardless of the consequences, he can’t live without you and he knows that. he loves you too much to let you go. and he knows that when he sees you beneath him, tears streaming down your cheeks from the pleasure of it all and your telling him you love him too. he wants you near him forever, he needs you near him. so he’d watch the world burn, hand in hand with you and he wouldn’t care because he has you by his side. his entire world and so what if everyone burned? you were okay. and that’s all that mattered. and he’d kiss you again and you remind of that again with your face in his hands and he swears he wouldn’t ever let a single thing harm you. it’s his own twisted love, and he knows it’s beyond wrong, but he can’t find it in himself to care.

SHOTO TODOROKI, TOMURA SHIGARAKI, DABI, al haitham, DILUC, kaeya, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, toji fushiguro, SATORU GOJO, choso kamo, RYOMEN SUKUNA + your faves . . . ?

© VNUSOKI do not copy, repost or plagiarise my work.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin angst #genshin fluff #genshin x reader #genshin impact #zhongli x reader #xiao x reader #ayato x reader #wriothesely x reader #neuvillete x reader #thoma x reader #itadori x reader #nanami kento x reader angst #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento #shoto todoroki x reader #shoto x reader #tomura fanart #tomura shigiraki x reader #tomura x reader #tomura shiragaki #dabi x reader #al haitam x reader #al haitham #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #kaeya x reader #kaeya alberich #kaeya smut #megumi fushiguro x reader

[angelltheninth]

Ehem-ehem.

Neuvillette nervously asking the staff of palace mermoria ( I fucked the named Ik ) about pregnancy and what should he do for his S/O to be have comfortable pregnancy. The guy so social awkward he forgot how big of the deal if the public knows

Oh man, poor guy would be freaking out.

Pairing: Neuvillette x Reader

Tags: fluff, established relationship, relationship reveal, pregnancy, asking for advice, excited Neuvillette

A/N: If I got someone pregnant I'd be freaking the fuck out. Good thing I don't have the parts for that.

Everyone would already know there's something going on with him, he looks both nervous and happy when he arrives

Cooped himself up in his office with a bunch of books and only asked to judge the really important cases because he has urgent research

Grows more frustursted with each hour

So the rain outside keeps falling harder and faster until it's all anyone can hear

When he's finally had enough he storms out with a determined look on his face, a little scary too, and asks about dealing with human pregnancy

Neuvillette disn't realize that he asked so loudly, out of worry and frusturation

People started asking him who it was that was pregnant and in a wave of pride he said your namw while having the most lovestruck look on his face

It was a mistake to say it like that cause now everyone is asking more questions about your relationship when he just wants to know how to take care of their beloved for the nine months of pregnancy

You're very confused when you finally get to work and everyone is congratulating you

Until you get to Neuvillette's office and he, with a smile, declares that you don't have to keep your relationship a secret anymore

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #neuvilluette imagines #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #neuvillette headcanons #genshin impact fluff #genshin fluff #neuvillette fluff #genshin impact x you #genshin x you #neuvillette x you #x reader

[megistusdiary]

𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙡𝙬 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 ༊*·˚

i wanted to make another silly combo post, so here we are. just a dump of ideas about genshin wlw threesomes i'd love to see ♡

warnings: smut (mdni), fem!reader, wlw content, threesomes, straps, blowjobs, cunnilingus, blindfolds, bondage

long post utc

1. jean and navia

"so pretty." navia coos, stroking your cheek, tilting your chin up to meet her gaze. your eyes flit downwards, looking at jean kneeling between your legs, two fingers pressed into you.

navia smiles gently, kissing your forehead as she tugs at the hem of your shirt. "can i take this off?" she asks you, and you nod for her, letting her pull it over your head.

jean sucks on your clit, pulling your attention back to her as you let out a sharp gasp. your thighs threaten to close around her head, but she maintains a soft hold on them, keeping you in place.

she looks up at you, leaning back to lick a slow stripe up your pussy. she kisses your clit gently, standing up. "i think she's ready." jean tells navia who gives her a giddy smile.

they ease you down onto the bed, the three of you stripping down completely as jean settles behind you while navia preps her strap. you eye it cautiously, noting that while its girth seems smaller, the length is rather precarious.

jean senses your hesitancy, gently turning your cheek to face her. "it's okay, we'll be gentle." she whispers, kissing your cheek. her hands trail across your body, teasing your breasts as her lips meet yours.

navia runs the faux cock across your pussy, collecting the slick leaking from you. she strokes the silicone, spreading your sticky wetness over the material, the sound penetrating the air.

jean can feel the heat of embarrassment blooming beneath your skin and she pulls away, letting you catch your breath. "there's no need to be shy."

"we think it's cute." navia pipes up, pushing your thighs up to spread you out. "so pretty." she smiles at you, blue eyes sparkling. she waits for you to nod at her, allowing her to press into you.

jean feels one of your hands gripping her biceps, the other clawing at the bedsheets. she slides her left hand to yours, clasping them together to keep you grounded.

your hand grips hers tightly, face turning to push into her shoulder while navia eases into you. they praise you so sweetly, telling you how beautiful you look, how good you are for them, how pretty you look under them.

jean feels you melt against her, trembling once navia's pelvis touches yours. "good girl." and you can't even tell who's talking anymore.

2. dehya and beidou

"oh, fuck. that's it, sweetheart." beidou grunts, her hand firmly gripping your head while you choke on her thick strap. she adores your little noises: every time you gag, when you whimper, when your hands feebly grip her thighs. you're just so cute.

"taking our captain here like such a good girl, huh?" dehya grins, fixing her own strap to her pelvis, opening the bottle of oil from the table. she slides her hand across the material of the faux cock on her waist.

your eyes flit between beidou and dehya, your nose pressed to the captain's pelvis, tufts of hair tickling your skin. she pets your head, pushing you to take more of her.

dehya takes you by surprise, propping your hips up and spreading your thighs for her. she slides her still slick fingers over your pussy, laughing. "archons, she's dripping, beidou."

your face heats up with embarrassment, whining around the cock stuffed down your throat. beidou shushes you sweetly, petting your head and keeping you firmly on her cock.

dehya's fingers slide into you from behind, and you moan, fingers digging into beidou's muscular thighs as your eyes flutter shut with the stretch.

"how's she feel?" beidou asks, shallowly fucking your throat.

"tight. loosen up a little for me." she pats your ass, crooking her fingers into your g-spot, gently rubbing against it as your feet kick against the bed. she gently eases you into an orgasm, a strange contrast to how roughly beidou is treating your throat.

once you've come back down from your high, dehya's strap is sliding over your sensitive cunt, rubbing circles into your clit. her thumbs spread your folds open, smirking at how you clench around nothing from the way she exposes you.

she slides the faux cock in at the same time beidou pulls out just to hear you scream, face falling to the bed. once you've caught your breath, beidou is back to fucking your throat.

they maintain their pace together, keeping you full at one end (at least) at all times. your hands claw at the bedsheets, tears pooling in your eyes as they fuck you harder.

it's clear how they enjoy your squirming, cooing about how cute you are, how adorable their pretty girl is. how precious you are when you come for them.

dehya angles herself directly into your g-spot, feeling you tighten up around her and tremble on the bed. she slides out carefully, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck. "made such a mess of my cock, you should see it." she whispers to you as you whimper.

beidou pulls you off her cock, eyeing your spit coating her as she wraps a hand around her base, spreading the glossy spit. she lifts your chin up to face her with a grin. "don't fall asleep on us just yet, i still get my turn to fuck you."

3. xianyun and ningguang

"sweetheart, be still for miss xianyun." the tianquan chastises you, and the older woman smiles, holding you against her chest.

"that's alright, lady ningguang. one is rather... adept at handling misbehavior." xianyun reaches down and pinches your clit with the bends of her fingers to ensure you avoid her talons.

you sink lower on the strap she's buried into you. "my, you really are talented." ningguang comments, balancing her pipe in her left hand.

xianyun smiles, holding your thighs open and bouncing you on her faux cock, hearing you whine with each little thrust. "it comes with time. though, i've heard plenty of rumors about the tianquan's very own affairs."

ningguang laughs, taking a drag of her pipe, blowing the smoke into your face, setting it off to the side. "fair enough. i've had my share of traipsing around with pretty women. but you've reduced her to a babbling little toy." she hums, cupping your cheek.

you nuzzle into her touch so sweetly, looking up at her with soft eyes.

"as one has said before, there is much we can all stand to learn, and one is happy to share with you." xianyun bounces you harder, hips thrusting up into you as you cry a mix of their names. "go on, you've been a good girl." she whispers, and, like a trained puppy, you cum around her, shaking in her lap.

xianyun eases you through the rest of your orgasm before sliding you off her strap and into ningguang's lap instead. "aren't you a pliant little thing for us?" ningguang slides her thumb over your lip, watching your tongue dart out over the pad of her finger. she smirks, sliding it into your mouth and holding your tongue down.

xianyun eases you up, grinding you over ningguang's strap, coating the material in the remnants of your orgasm, letting you hear the wet noises of your own slick. when she slides into you, the stretch leaves you reeling.

it's not quite as long as xianyun, but she's chosen a much thicker cock, and you grasp desperately at her shoulders, head tipping back onto xianyun's chest.

ningguang bounces you in a similar manner to xianyun, but different enough that it feels novel. her pelvis grinds into your clit everytime your hips meet hers, and xianyun ensures you feel it by grinding your body down onto the tianquan.

xianyun's fingers dance up your throat, tugging your head closer to kiss her while ningguang watches rather amused. xianyun is tender but firm, holding your jaw in her taloned grip.

ningguang grinds the tip of her strap into your g-spot, feeling you tighten up around her, babbling into xianyun's mouth, begging to cum. merciful as she is, she gives you permission, feeling you soak her cock and drip down onto her pelvis.

they coo at you, petting your head and commending you on being their perfect little pet. and just when you think they're finished, ningguang slides you back to xianyun, fixing her strap and standing to slide it over your lips while xianyun's tip pops back into your pussy.

"such a good girl for us. but so messy." ningguang tuts. "clean up your mess, sweet girl." she grips your head, sliding her dick into your mouth while xianyun slides back into you.

the sensation at the same time along with the taste of yourself on ningguang is all too much. you sniffle and tear up when she teases the back of your throat while they use you, but it only seems to amuse and goad them on.

you are their perfect toy, after all.

4. yae miko and yelan

"you know, i'm quite partial to red and pink, but i can't deny how... fetching blue looks on her." miko mused, running a hand up the blue rope tied on your thigh.

the blindfold blocks you from seeing either woman, but yelan laughs. "what can i say? i know what my girl looks good in."

"oh, your girl? is that so?" miko asks, and you whimper when she leans down over you. "is that true? are you hers?"

before you can answer, yelan is on your other side. "you know the right answer, don't you?"

both women are equally menacing in their own right, and you feel overwhelmed. "i- i'm... both... both of yours." your voice trembles, and the women lean up, saying nothing before laughing.

"what a little slut. playing around with two women like this." miko tuts.

"wouldn't be surprised if we're not the only ones." yelan scoffed and you cry out at them.

"no! just you, i swear-" your voice is cut off into a soft wheeze when someone's hand closes around your throat.

"you speak when spoken to, pet." miko warns, leaning down to nip at your shoulder with sharp teeth. she turns you over onto your front, adjusting the ropes to have your face shoved into the pillows while your ass was perked up for them.

"aww, look at you. all wet for us like an eager little pet." miko slaps your clit with her palm, enjoying your little whimpers and futile squirming. her fingers slide into you briefly before withdrawing, and then you feel them pressed onto your lip. "open." she commands, sliding the slick digits over your tongue.

you feel someone else's fingers on your cunt, pinching your clit before sliding two into you, making you moan around the ones in your mouth.

you assume it's yelan, fucking you rather harshly with her fingers, squeezing your thighs and slapping your ass while miko slides onto the bed in front of you.

she cradles your head, pulling your blinded body closer to her, making you kiss her pussy and feeling you moan against her. "oh, good girl, come on, eat me out." she coos and you feel yelan shove your head down.

"go on. that's what you're made for, isn't it?" yelan snaps, letting miko use your tongue, getting your cheeks and lips all messy.

yelan busies herself with sliding three fingers into you now, letting you hear the sounds of your own slick being pushed in and out before she robs you of your orgasm. you pull away to try and beg her, but miko is quicker, shoving you back down to her cunt and effectively silencing you.

yelan taps the tip of her strap onto your cunt, smacking it loud enough for the three of you to hear.

"isn't that a little big for our poor little pet?" miko gasps, faux sympathy for you in her voice as she grinds herself on you like you're her toy.

yelan grips your head, pulling you up and hearing you pant softly. "what do you think, pet? am i too big for you?" she asks.

"no, no! i can take it!" you wail. "please, please fuck me-"

your back arches, and you scream when yelan slides completely in, feeling you clench around her while the women above you delight in your squirming and crying behind your blindfold.

#genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader smut #fem reader #genshin wlw #jean smut #navia smut #beidou smut #dehya smut #xianyun smut #ningguang smut #yelan smut #yae miko smut #dehya x reader #yelan x reader #yae miko x reader #xianyun x reader #ningguang x reader #jean x reader #navia x reader

[toruslvt]

⋆ AGE GAP WITH ZHONGLI AND WELT

mdni. gn!reader. repost

Zhongli's thoughts shouldn't all be around you, he knows it's wrong, but you look so pretty sucking his cock.

the cute assistant hu tao hired to help alongside the older man; and Zhongli, for once, thinks it was for the best once he's balls deep into you, bent oh so pliantly over the counter for him to fuck your tight young hole.

he feels like a pervert, he really shouldn't be having such lewd vivid pictures of you when there's an immense age gap between you both, but your moans are like music to his ears, ripping grunts from himself each time your eager hole clenches around him, purposely sucking him deeper, “you love to be fucked by an old man such as myself, don't you?” is what he always says, hiding the fact that it's Zhongli the one that enjoys ruining you whole.

Welt's pent up stress can become unbearable sometimes, between his astral express duties and personal matters, you come in like a blessing.

he thinks you're so cute, always eager to help whoever's in distress, and welt's grateful you took a certain liking to him. in everyone's eyes you're another youngster under the man's wing, giggly and attentive to what he says, but the thing is, no one is aware of the sweet sounds coming from your lips as he fucks you all night in his private quarters.

eyes crossed and tongue lolled out is how you end your day, getting fucked with precise and expert thrusts into the mattress with your legs dangling from each one of his shoulders. for a man his age, he sure got stamina, making you scream his name between the huffed pants he lets out. Welt's obsessed with your young and free nature, giving himself the pleasure to mold you with his cock.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #zhongli smut #genshin zhongli x reader #genshin zhongli #zhongli x reader #hsr smut #hsr x reader #hsr welt x reader #welt yang smut #welt yang x reader

[cloudwisp]

Wriothesley falling in love means you being the reason for his smile when he sees you for the first time that day. Even if it’s just the tiniest quirk at the corners of his mouth, it’s most definitely there and he’s usually seen in a better mood for the rest of the day. The Head Nurse notices this and after she made a passing comment, he can’t help but catch himself doing it the moment you come into his view and dammit was Sigewinne right about you—you do make him happy, more so than you could ever imagine.

Wriothesley falling in love means he can believe these things you tell him—about himself. You’re by no means naive but you always strive to see the good in people and understand their circumstances. Even when he questions what kind of man he is, you tell him he’s a nice person who looks after everyone beneath his care. Even if he’s got blood on his hands and has his regrets, you tell him it wasn’t really fair that he was pushed into that position in the first place. He still has some reservations about his past, but he appreciates being seen in a different light.

Wriothesley falling in love means he’s always a bit romantic with you. When you mention you miss feeling the sun’s warmth on your face after having to spend most of your time at the Fortress of Meropide to be with him, he plans a small outing in a scenic location to watch the sunrise/sunset together. (And he makes a mental note to take you on dates in the overworld more). When you pretend you’re getting overheated by snuggling too close to him and move away slightly, he pulls you back with purpose and a teasing smirk on his handsome features. “It’ll be cold outside of my embrace. You want to stay here… forever, right?”

Wriothesley falling in love means he’s allowed to be incredibly sappy and a touch playful and say all these sweet things because if there’s one thing he loves most about you—it’s the way you bring out the softness in him and you make it so easy for him to just be himself with you. Even someone like him who hasn’t been dealt the easiest hand in life is deserving of a tender and healing kind of love whether he believes it or not.

#ᨳ ₊˚ 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐝𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐩.𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Chris, I suffer of simpinitis and the only cure is you to write for Arlecchino (just a joke don't feel pressured especially if you end up not liking her also good luck if you're pulling for her)

(Genshin Impact) Arlecchino, Lynette, Xianyun, and Barbara's S/O getting scared by a spider

I don't plan on pulling for her because Clorinde is showing up, but FEAR NOT ANON! Quoth the FFXIV:

Arlecchino watches with vague amusement as S/O suddenly leaps back, nearly into her arms.

She catches them with minimal effort as her eyes slowly track tiny movement on the floor.

A spider was skittering across the floor at a slow pace, making her gaze trail back to S/O.

(Arlecchino) "Spiders are not very likely to attack humans without being provoked. And even then, that is under the most dire of circumstances-"

(S/O) "I-I know, but...they're just creepy!"

(Arlecchino) "Indeed."

With a hum of acknowledgement, she almost drops S/O to the ground as they barely caught themselves in time.

Arlecchino walks over to the spider and gently puts it in a cup before releasing it outside.

She crosses her arms as distant memories from her past came trickling in.

(Arlecchino) "You wouldn't have liked Bambi."

(S/O) "Who's that?"

(Arlecchino) "A pet spider that I once owned."

(S/O) Of course you owned one...

They were smart enough to not say that out loud, but Arlecchino had the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.

She probably knew what they were thinking anyway.

Even when she was spacing out, Lynette could easily spot something moving in the corner of her eye.

(Lynette) "Oh, a spider-"

(S/O) "WHAT?!"

S/O immediately balled up onto the couch, head rapidly darting back and forth.

(S/O) "W-WHERE?!"

Lynette's ears twitched from how loud S/O was being, but she easily grabbed the spider in a cup, noting how S/O was inching away from her.

(Lynette) "It's not even a dangerous kind, just a regular-"

(S/O) "I don't care what it is, just throw it out!"

Lynette smiled and gently let it escape out the house.

As she sat back down next to S/O, her tail swished playfully, though Lynette herself was stoic as ever.

(Lynette) "What are you going to do when i'm not here?"

(S/O) "D-Don't tease me!"

Xianyun adjusts her glasses when she sees a spider on the table.

S/O almost dropped their food completely at the sight of it, while Xianyun looked slightly annoyed.

(Xianyun) "How unsightly for a dinner table."

With a small gust of wind, she flicks it away, making S/O leap out their seat.

(S/O) "GAH! D-Don't fling it at me!"

(Xianyun) "One was not aiming at you, dear. Do be careful, otherwise your plate will drop."

S/O took a deep breath of relief while Xianyun continued to eat.

(Xianyun) "Hm...One has an idea for an invention. We could construct you a machine that can take care of household pests like that."

(S/O) "...W-Would you?"

Xianyun suddenly beams with pride, a gleam of light reflecting off her glasses.

(Xianyun) "Fear not, One will make sure you are never bothered by a spider ever again! We will get started straight away after dinner."

What ended up happening was Xianyun constructed a machine that was too good at killing household pests, to the point it broke parts of the wall.

Both Barbara and S/O yelp when they see a spider speed along the tiles of the Cathedral.

(S/O) "Aw man, it's going up to the ceiling!"

(Barbara) "I-It's not going to drop on our heads, is it?!"

The two exchanged a look that said neither were wanting to find out the answer.

Accepting defeat, the two quickly exited the cathedral out onto the plaza.

(S/O) "Do you think we could ask one of the sisters to help us?"

(Barbara) "U-Um...well-"

It didn't take long for either of them to realize that it'd be absolutely mortifying to ask a sister for something so trivial.

Instead, they decided to practice their singing outside.

Which arguably, was worse since spiders could be anywhere, but it didn't seem to cross their minds as they slowly became comfortable again and laughed the situation off.

Until the next day they forgot about it and entered the cathedral, only to be jumpscared by it as it sat on the pews they were at.

#genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #arlecchino x reader #lynette x reader #xianyun x reader #barbara pegg x reader #arlecchino genshin #lynette genshin impact #xianyun genshin #barbara pegg

[joonie-beanie]

A Dragon's Constitution | [Neuvillette x Reader]

Summary: Iudex Neuvillette has been acting a little...strange, as of late. Worried about him, Sigewinne and Wriothesley come up with a plan to help lessen his load. “I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.” Well, being Neuvillette's assistant for a week shouldn't be that bad. Unless, of course, the reason Neuvillette has been acting strange is due to the fact that he's actually a dragon that has regained his full power, and now, with the return of said power, his body is experiencing things he's never known before now. Because that would be totally crazy...right? Content: Smut, Consensual Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Double Penetration, Rut, fem!reader Word Count: 10.8k Note: this occurs after "Doctor's Orders"

Sigewinne is the first to hear the rumors about Iudex Neuvillette—although Wriothesley isn’t far behind.

The first indication that something might be wrong with the Iudex is brought up in a letter—one penned by Sedene that is delivered to Sigewinne. In the letter, Sedene writes that since Fontaine has overcome its disaster, everything has been going well…except, Neuvillette has been behaving a little…strange.

Sedene does not elaborate on what exactly is wrong, and Sigewinne assumes that’s because she doesn’t know. Melusine have the ability to sense things, but the things they sense aren’t always accompanied with an answer.

And so, Sigewinne writes back telling Sedene to make sure Neuvillette is staying hydrated (since she knows he has been particularly busy as of late), and that she’ll try and make a trip to see him soon, when she has the time.

The following day, a new batch of wrongdoers arrive in the prison, and along with them—some speculations about Fontaine’s supreme judge.

“I think I deserve a retrial,” one of the men says, clearly frustrated. “I stated my case, but then Iudex Neuvillette actually blanked, and had to ask me to repeat myself! After I said everything so eloquently! That’s why I’m down here, man. I was so surprised by it that when I said my argument again, I sounded lame…this sucks.”

Listening from behind a nearby pillar, Wriothesley frowns to himself. 

Neuvillette getting distracted in court? Well, that’s certainly a first—and a worrying first, at that.

Before the day’s end, Wriothesley and Sigewinne seek each other out. Equally concerned about what they’ve been hearing, they spend the evening coming up with a plan. Something they might be able to do to help Neuvillette.

The next morning, you wake up and get ready—prepared to go and spend a few days below ground in the Fortress…only to find Wriothesley on your doorstep.

“Hi,” he says with a smile when you pull your front door open.

Your eyes go wide, and you glance either way down the street, wondering if you’re being pranked. 

When nothing seems suspicious, you reach out and touch Wriothesley’s chest to make sure he’s real.

He immediately rolls his eyes and snatches your hand, bringing it to his lips.

“Yes, I’m real. Yes, I’m here.”

“Good—but, why are you here?” you ask. 

Not that he isn’t welcome at your apartment, but…you just didn’t expect to see him here. On the surface. At your place of residence.

“Am I late or something? I thought we scheduled for me to come back to the Fortress today.”

“No, you are not late,” he reassures you. He gives your hand a little squeeze before allowing you to have it back.

“There’s been…a little change in your schedule.”

You cock an eyebrow at him.

“What kind of change?”

Does he want you to stay on the surface a few more days before coming back down? Considering he’s here, maybe he’s got some business on the surface, which would mean there’s no point in you going to the Fortress right now.

Wriothesley’s smile grows—little crow's feet appearing at the corner of his eyes.

“I’m lending you to Neuvillette for the week.”

…

Huh?

“Here.”

Wriothesley grabs your bag—the one slung over your arm and packed with items that should have tied you over while you stayed in the Fortress—and tosses it back into your apartment.

Then, he gently grabs your waist, pulls you out onto the street, and closes the door to your apartment behind you. He checks the door to make sure it’s locked, and when he finds that it is, he nods in satisfaction.

“C’mon, keep up,” he says, starting up the street. His boots are heavy against the pavement.

Blinking, you finally snap out of it and jog to catch up with him.

“Hold on, you—you’re lending me to Iudex Neuvillette?”

You’ve never known the man to have an assistant, and from what you’ve heard from Wriothesley and others, he tends to prefer working alone. Aside from that, he’s very skilled at his job, and typically doesn’t need help—even with the never ending case load.

“...did he consent to this?”

Wriothesley smiles, loving how smart you are.

“Not yet, but he will.”

The two of you turn a corner, heading towards an elevator that will take you up towards the Palais Mermonia. You narrow your eyes at Wriothesley. He waves you off.

“Sigewinne and I both heard that he seems a little…stressed lately. And we decided the best thing we could do right now, aside from giving him our support, would be lending him you. So, assuming he is in need of help, I don’t see why he would turn our offer down, considering how proficient you are.”

“While I appreciate the praise, I think you’re underestimating the pride of men,” you tell him, standing at his side as the two of you arrive at the elevator. Wriothesley hits the button to summon it to your floor.

“Hey, when I got busier than usual, I hired you,” he points out. You cock an eyebrow at him.

“I’m 99% sure the only reason you hired me was due to Sigewinne's influence. I bet she saw your stress growing and bugged you to get an assistant until you finally gave in.”

Wriothesley sighs.

“Sometimes I wish you weren’t so smart.”

You grin, holding your head high.

Finally, the elevator arrives on your floor. When the door opens, Wriothesley motions for you to board first. Then, he follows you on.

“So, let’s say Sigewinne did insist I hire an assistant. The result of doing so was positive. My work got easier, and my life improved. If we present that logic to Neuvillette, there’s no reason he should decline our help. Plus, he tends to listen to Sigewinne.”

You sigh, watching the city outside the glass doors of the elevator. You’re nearly to the floor the Palais Mermonia is on.

“If Neuvillette agrees that he wants the help, I have no issue being his assistant for the week.”

Wriothesley catches your silent drift of “you get the pleasure of trying to convince him to accept help, though”. 

Which is fine. He loves a good challenge.

“Sigewinne and I appreciate your cooperation,” he tells you sincerely.

Arriving on your floor, the elevator doors open, and you step out first—standing aside to allow Wriothesley to walk past you and lead the way. A few gazes are thrown your way as you go—people surprised to see the Duke of the Fortress above ground for once—but Wriothesley doesn’t react, so neither do you.

Sticking by his side, you follow him up the steps and through the front door of the building. 

“Duke Wriothesley,” Sedene greets as you near the doors of Neuvillette’s office. She runs up to the two of you, her eyes somewhat nervously shifting towards the office doors.

“Iudex Neuvillette, he…”

She wants to say that he’s not accepting visitors at the moment, but she can’t get the words out—obviously worried about him. Wriothesley flashes her a kind smile.

“Sigewinne sent us,” he tells her, relief immediately appearing on her face at his words. “Is Neuvillette in?”

“Yes, he is in,” she confirms, and then scuttles back over to her desk, only to return a moment later with a tray of tea (or, teacups and water?) in her hands. 

“Take this when you go in, that should help.”

“I appreciate that,” Wriothesley responds. You reach down to take the tray from her hands, quietly thanking her as well. She flashes you a smile, gives you a thumbs up, and then goes back to work.

You and Wriothesley glance at each other. Seeing you’re ready, he raps his knuckles on the door thrice, and enters the room when Neuvillette’s muffled and somewhat reluctant “come in” is heard from beyond the door.

Gripping the handle, Wriothesley pushes his way inside. You dutifully follow after him.

Once in the office—the door shutting softly behind you—you quickly realize that perhaps something is wrong with the Iudex. Because for a man known for his neatness, and professionalism, his office is quite…untidy, at the moment. 

Papers are scattered along his desk—piles uneven, and threatening to fall. And on the coffee table nearby, there are multiple cups, along with empty bottles of imported water. Not to mention books that are strewed around—some even on the floor.

Wriothesley takes quick stock of the state of the office before his gaze settles on Neuvillette, who is sitting at his desk. He's wearing his normal robes, and yet he looks…strangely disheveled. Perhaps it's the faint dark circles under his eyes, or the way his hair looks less kept than usual?

“I thought I instructed that there were to be no—oh, Wriothesley.”

Neuvillette's tone of measured annoyance softens the second he looks up and sees who it actually is that has entered his office. Then, he sighs, feeling ashamed of his initial attitude.

“I apologize. Did you request a meeting? I don't recall getting any correspondence about it, unless it was accidentally left off my calendar.”

“No need for apologies, Monsieur Neuvillette. I am the one who should be apologizing, as I did not reach out beforehand to let anyone know that I was coming.”

Wriothesley bows in slight apology, and you mirror him, figuring it's the right thing to do since you're technically also intruding.

“I know you're very busy, so I'll cut right to the chase to save us both time. Sigewinne and I are concerned about you, since we've both heard from multiple sources that you seem a little out of sorts as of late. So, in an attempt to help lessen your load, I'd like to offer you my assistant, Y/N, for the week.”

For the first time since you'd entered with Wriothesley, Neuvillette’s sharp eyes slide to you. You force a polite smile to your lips and—remembering the tray in your hands—move to set it on the nearby table.

Quickly filling one of the glasses with the water, you stride over to Neuvillette’s desk and offer it to him.

“Pleased to meet you,” you simply say. 

“And you as well,” he responds, keeping up formalities.

Taking the glass from your hand, Neuvillette takes a long sip of water, and you scoot back to Wriothesley’s side. Once Neuvillette has finished his drink, he places the glass down on his desk and sighs.

“I assure you that I am alright, and there is no need for concern.”

“I hate to disagree, but based on the state of your office, I can't believe that's true.”

Neuvillette’s gaze slides around his office, as if truly seeing it for the first time in days. His brows pinch together as he realizes Wriothesley is right. He hadn't noticed it'd become so messy…

“I will admit I have been a little…scattered, lately. But it's nothing I cannot handle. Lending me your assistant would only increase the burden of your own workload, which I cannot accept.”

“Actually,” Wriothesley is quick to counter. “I hired Y/N before the disaster, because much of my time was occupied watching the primordial sea gate, and preparing the Wingalet. Now that the disaster has passed, and things have relatively calmed down, my workload has greatly lessened. Meaning, I have no issue temporarily lending her to you.”

Knowing Wriothesley is only willing to give you up temporarily—meaning he'll want you back to himself at some point—makes you happy.

“Be that as it may, I will still have to decline your offer.”

Alright then, time to break out the big guns.

“I know since Furina stepped down as the Archon, you've only gotten busier,” Wriothesley tells him, fixing him with a concerned stare. “And because of that, Sigewinne is worried. If you could just accept Y/N's help for the week, I'm sure that would help put her mind at ease.”

The mention of Sigewinne causes Neuvillette to frown, so Wriothesley quickly lays it on thicker.

“I assure you that Y/N has been a great aide to me,” he says, his gaze meeting yours. “Sigewinne recommends her as well. If you allow her to help you for a few days, I have no doubt she’ll be of use to you. So please, Neuvillette.”

Neuvillette places his elbows on his desk and folds his hands together. It takes a few seconds, but eventually, he sighs.

“Fine. If Y/N is okay with this arrangement, I shall accept her help.”

Both men look your way. You smile.

“I’d be more than happy to help with whatever I can.”

Honestly, you hadn’t expected to find yourself here, and aren’t even sure what there is you can do to support him, but considering how tired he looks, you’ll surely try your best.

“Good! Glad that’s settled.”

With a happy grin—pleased that he has won the battle—Wriothesley turns to you. He cups the back of your head and drags you in—his lips pressing into your hair.

“I’ll come visit on Saturday to take her back into my care. Best of luck to you both,” he says, heading for the door. He waves his hand at you and Neuvillette over his shoulder, and without saying anything else, exits the office.

You stare at the closed door for a second, before you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and turn back to Neuvillette.

…only to find that he’s fixing you with a peculiar stare.

“Are you and Wriothesley seeing each other…?” he asks.

Ah, right, the way Wriothesley had kissed your head before leaving…

“We are not,” you assure him, taking a few steps towards his desk. “Since entering his employment the two of us have just become…fond of each other.”

Which isn’t a lie. You and Wriothesley are quite fond of each other—fond enough that every time you go to stay in the Fortress, you find yourself in his bed at least once (and not just because Sigewinne has instructed Wriothesley to continue having sex to keep his stress levels down). And no, you’re not dating, but that’s fine. You enjoy what you have with him right now, and honestly, it’d be a bad look if anyone found out Wriothesley was dating his assistant anyway.

“I see,” Neuvillette nods, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I apologize for presuming.”

“No need to apologize, Monsieur,” you respond, stepping up beside his desk. You smile at him—softer, and more genuine this time.

“Now, what can I assist you with?”

While it takes a short while for Neuvillette to adjust to the idea of having an assistant to help with things, soon enough, the two of you come to an understanding.

He admits that he has been struggling to juggle court cases and new paperwork that needs to be signed off on now that the judicial system is changing (thanks to recent developments). So, you put forth the idea to allocate time to signing documents, and while you run things where they need to go afterwards, Neuvillette can address any cases on his docket. 

Not having any better idea, he goes with your plan.

While Neuvillette busies himself with signing paperwork, you flit around his office—cleaning up empty bottles and used cups, and putting abandoned books back on the shelves.

By the time you’ve finished organizing (taking your time to make sure everything is put back in its proper place), Neuvillette has finished reviewing his first stack of papers.

“These have all been signed off on,” he says, summoning you to his side. He points at the top right hand corner of the paper. “This area on each document will show you where it needs to be returned.”

“Understood,” you respond, taking the stack from him. You cradle the papers in your arms and leaf through the first few sheets while heading for the door. However, you quickly realize the documents aren’t grouped by which location they need to be dropped at.

So, you make a detour at the coffee table—gently sitting yourself on the sofa as you begin sorting the papers into smaller stacks, grouped by department. Once you’ve done that, you pile them all together again, and continue towards the door—unaware of the way Neuvillette’s lips tug into a smile at your actions.

Delivering documents where they need to go takes up the remainder of your morning, and by the time you’ve finished, your stomach is growling. So—figuring that Neuvillette won’t have stepped away from his desk yet—you decide to pick up something for the both of you.

“You've returned,” he says without looking up from the document in his hand as you step into his office. “I assume everything has been delivered?”

“Yes,” you respond with a nod, his gaze finally rising to look at you as he hears the sound of the bag in your hand, and smells the contents within. “And I grabbed us lunch. I assume you haven’t eaten?”

“I have not,” he confirms. His eyes watch you as you b-line for the coffee table and begin unpacking the take-out food. “I’m not sure what you like, but I figured I’d play it safe and go with soup, since you seem to enjoy…liquids.”

How else are you supposed to describe his taste when all you've seen him consume today is cup after cup of water?

Surprised, Neuvillette puts down the paper in his hand.

Standing from his chair, he makes his way over, staring at the clear broth of the consomme.

“...I think I'm beginning to see why Wriothesley enjoys having you as an assistant.”

“Oh? Sounds like Iudex Neuvillette is becoming fond of me too,” you say—very jokingly. “You may have to fight Wriothesley for me later. Assuming I stay as helpful during the remainder of the week.”

You half expect Neuvillette to say say something about how a fight won’t be necessary, as you're only a temporary loan, and he shouldn't need help beyond this week anyway—but instead, he cracks a smile, grabs his portion of the consomme, and says—

“I'll have to keep that in mind.”

—before he returns to his desk and continues working through his lunch.

In the afternoon, Neuvillette remains immersed in paperwork and other documents. You mostly spend your time making sure he has enough water available to drink, and fetching him any books or materials he asks for, so he doesn’t have to step away from his desk and break his concentration.

It’s a dynamic that works, and already, you can tell his stress has lessened—now that he’s caught up on many tasks. However, there’s still the slightest pinch to his brow, and a tiny flush on the skin of his neck despite the fact that it’s not overly hot in his office (at least, in your opinion. But maybe all that hair of his is warm?).

However, you don’t bother overthinking it. It’s still your first day assisting him. It would be crazy to think he’d suddenly be stress-free after a few hours in your care.

When the clock strikes 5, Neuvillette doesn’t miss a beat.

“You may go home for the day.”

You blink, looking around for the time.

“...will you continue working?”

“Yes, but that isn’t out of the ordinary,” Neuvillette responds, taking a sip from the glass of water on his desk. “However, your station doesn’t warrant you working overtime. You should go home now and enjoy your evening.”

You suppose he’s right…there are some things you can’t really assist him with anyway. Plus, you still have four more days working under him.

“Alright then, I won’t argue with you,” you respond. You gather up what little things you had brought with you, and then head for the door. But, before you go, you turn back to him.

“When should I come tomorrow? 8am?”

“9am will be fine.”

“Understood,” you nod, flashing him a smile. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, Monsieur.”

“Good night, Y/N,” he responds in kind, watching you as you open the door and slip out of his office.

His gaze only lingers on the spot where you stood for a brief moment before he returns to his work.

The next day, you arrive at Neuvillette’s office at the agreed upon time, only to find that he’s getting ready to leave.

“I have some trials at the Opera Epiclese today,” he says. “You are welcome to join me.”

And really, who would pass up that offer?

So, without even setting your things down, you follow Neuvillette out of the building and to the Navia line—boarding an aquabus that will take you to the opera house.

Neuvillette garners a lot of attention as the two of you make your way to the building, but you do your best to tune out any stares or whispers. You think Neuvillette’s popularity among the people will never die.

“I have a guest today,” Neuvillette tells one of the staff members once you’ve entered the main hall. “Please make sure she is given a seat.”

“Of course,” they assure him, to which he nods. His eyes catch yours. 

“I will find you once the trials are over,” he says.

“Alright,” you respond. “Good luck.”

He cocks an eyebrow at your sentiment.

“Luck is typically not required,” he tells you. You feel a little heat of embarrassment rise on your skin, but the smile that appears at the corner of Neuvillette’s lips assures you he’s only joking with you. 

“Nonetheless, thank you.”

With that, he turns and heads up a staircase that will lead him upstairs to the judge’s seat.

You follow the staff member into the theater, still feeling a little warm.

As it turns out, Neuvillette has a full docket today. 

From morning to afternoon, you spend your day settled into your seat in the theater—watching prosecutors and defendants present evidence and argue back and forth.The cases draw most of your attention, but your gaze still strays to Neuvillette every so often, just to make sure he’s alright.

And he seems to be…for the most part.

Once or twice, you notice that his eyes are unfocused—staring off into the distance, and not at the person who is speaking. And when a recess is taken for lunch, and Neuvillette finds you to invite you to partake in lunch with him, you notice that the flush on his neck has returned.

Silently, you wonder if he’s getting sick…although you’ve never heard of Iudex Neuvillette being sick before now.

You make sure to send him back up to his stand with an extra bottle of water (which he downs quite quickly. Then, he even motions for one of the nearby employees to bring him more, which…also must be a little strange, considering you see some people in the audience watching Neuvillette, instead of the “show”).

By the time his docket has been cleared, and the two of you take the aquabus back to the city, the work day is over. You and Neuvillette bid each other farewell, and you return home.

Your third day is spent helping Neuvillette finish up paperwork related to the cases from the previous day. 

He remains flushed the entire time—the blush on his neck creeping up to his ears. He also begins sighing heavily every so often, and his requests for water become more frequent—to the point where Sedene, who guards Neuvillette’s stash of imported waters, even gets surprised by how quickly he’s going through them.

However, it’s not until the fourth day—when you see Neuvillette behind his desk, face flushed, sweat beading on his brow, and his official robes discarded due to how hot he is—that you finally have the guts to speak up.

“Monsieur,” you say hesitantly, remaining gentle despite the way his head nearly snaps up to look at you. 

“Is it possible that you’re sick?”

Neuvillette frowns at the suggestion, as if that’s impossible, but…after a few seconds, he seems contemplative.

“Would you be able to go to the library and fetch me a book?” he responds without answering your original question. He writes the title down on a piece of paper for you, and you take it—unable to say no.

After a short trip to the library, you recruit the help of the librarian, who points you in the right direction, and—soon enough—you find what Neuvillette has asked for.

A book on the history of the Dragon Authorities.

…huh.

Dutifully, you take the book back to Neuvillette after checking it out, and he thanks you—setting it off to the side until he has finished what he’s working on. It takes another hour or so, but finally, out of the corner of your eye, you see him reach for the book.

He flips through the pages until he finds the section he’s most interested in, and then he just…reads. For a while.

You keep yourself busy organizing paperwork in the meantime, and don’t pay him much mind. At least, until you hear a crunching sound.

Startled, you glance over at Neuvillette, only to find that his desk is cracked—his hand gripping it so hard that the wood has actually splintered.

You jump to your feet.

“Neuvillette—?!”

“Leave.”

There’s an edge to his typically calm voice.

“What—”

You’re unable to get more than a word out before his sharp eyes find you—his pupils like daggers.

“Leave,” he repeats, slightly more calm. Although, you swear you can almost hear a rumble in his chest.

Your heart sinks, worry blooming in your chest. Did you do something to upset him?

Seeing how your face twists, Neuvillette takes a deep breath.

“I apologize,” he says, his tone measured. His eyes meet yours for a long beat before he glances away, unable to look at you.

“You’ve done nothing wrong, and I appreciate your help until now, but I will no longer be needing your assistance. Please go home.”

Not understanding why he’s had a sudden change in demeanor, you want to prod him for answers about what’s going on, but…seeing the tenseness of his body, and the way his chest heaves, you decide to listen to his request.

Without further argument, you gather your things and quickly head for the door—only pausing to say one last thing before leaving.

“It was nice working with you, Monsieur Neuvillette,” you tell him, a smile tugging at your lips even though he refuses to look your way. “If you ever need my assistance again, please don’t hesitate to let me know.”

The sound of the door shutting behind you is loud in Neuvillette’s ears, and once you’re gone, he finally lets go of his desk—chips of wood sprinkling the floor at his feet.

He attempts to take a deep breath to calm himself—but it has the opposite effect—his jaw clenching as his senses are flooded with the scents in his office, all of which seem more pungent than usual.

Leather book covers, fresh ink, Springvale water, his freshly washed robe, and a fleeting, sweet scent…

A scent that he wants to chase after.

He closes his eyes, stopping his train of thought.

Then, with shaking fingers, he picks up his pen and grabs a piece of paper.

As he drafts the notice of closure he intends to pass along to Sedene, a thunderstorm begins brewing outside his window.

On the morning of what should have been your fifth and final day in Neuvillette’s care, you wake up and find that you can’t simply let things be. 

You do your best to distract yourself with whatever chores in your apartment need doing, but it doesn’t work. You can’t stop thinking about Neuvillette—the flush on his skin, and the way his eyes had looked when he’d commanded you to leave.

It had all just felt so…out of character. You can’t help but worry about him.

So, despite the thunderstorm that’s been raging outside since you’d returned home the evening before, you decide to go and check on him.

You bundle yourself up in a coat and shoes that won’t be ruined by the rain, and then grab your umbrella—heading out into the storm.

As expected, not many people are out, which makes traversing the streets quite easy. You ride the elevator up to the Palais Mermonia alone, running up the steps and into the building to escape the rain.

In your hurry, you miss the notice that’s been posted on the doors to the building.

Once inside, you close your umbrella and prepare an apology to Sedene for dripping all over the floor, but to your surprise, she’s not at her desk. In fact, there’s not a soul in sight—the lights off, and the hall empty.

You’ve never heard of the Palais Mermonia shutting down before…

You take a step back towards the entrance as lightning illuminates the room—figuring it’s best if you leave. But…

Your gaze strays towards the doors to Neuvillette’s office, and after a beat, your feet begin moving on their own.

Assuming Neuvillette is here (because it’s not hard to imagine him working, even if everyone else is gone), you want to make sure he’s alright. 

So, you grip the handle to his office door, and quietly push your way inside.

A clap of thunder drowns out the sound of the office door clicking closed, and you take a step deeper inside, your eyes peering around the room.

In the darkness, you don't immediately spot anyone.

“Neuvillette?” you call out, just to be sure.

Before his name has finished leaving your lips, a shadow moves. Something rounding Neuvillette’s desk and heading towards you—snake-like eyes shining through the darkness.

Your heart jumps into your throat, and you trip over your feet in a panic as you rush to grab the handle of the office door—hoping to throw it open and dart outside before whatever monster you’ve just walked in on is able to get to you.

And really—it has to be a monster. It’s quicker than you—quicker than a normal human—crossing Neuvillette’s office in less than a second.

A scaled hand slams against the door beside your head, and little sound of fear is ripped from your throat. 

You're being prevented from leaving—the door not budging even when you try and discreetly tug at the handle.

Your chest shudders as you take a breath, and you squeeze your eyes shut, fearing the worst.

Even with your back turned, you know there's some sort of beast behind you. One that’s stronger than you. One that will probably end your life before you can beg for mercy— 

“I told you not to return here.”

The sound of Neuvillette’s voice beside your ear causes you to jolt.

He’s so close to you that you can feel his breath on your skin, and while realizing that it’s Neuvillette who is behind you should be a comfort, it’s also…frightening. 

You’re aware—like most Fontainians—that Iudex Neuvillette is not totally human, considering he has been presiding as the chief judge for more than a few centuries now, but…you’ve never seen him act like this.

“I…was worried about you. After yesterday,” you respond, finally finding your voice. 

“I sent you away for a reason.”

His voice is deeper than normal—a rumble vibrating in his chest as he speaks. 

His lips brush the shell of your ear, causing you to shiver. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart races faster despite your best efforts to stay calm. 

However, staying calm isn’t easy to do in this situation—especially when Neuvillette literally starts to glow.

The scales on his hand which you’d spotted early begin to softly shine blue in the dim light of the room—his nails curling and carving uneven lines into the wood of the door in front of you.

“I-I’m sorry,” you whisper, your breath hitching when his free arm suddenly curls around you. His forearm rests between your breasts, his palm splaying over your sternum, and you feel him take a deep breath—almost like he’s inhaling your scent.

“I was trying to protect you,” he says, his nose brushing against the skin of your throat. He can feel your pulse raising—your heart thundering in your chest.

You unconsciously grip the door knob tighter.

“Protect me from what, exactly, Monsieur…?”

“Me,” he responds.

His words send electricity up your spine.

“The way I’ve been acting—the way I’ve been feeling recently—it’s very unusual, and something I’ve never experienced before,” he admits—his warmth bleeding into your back as his body curls around you.

“That’s why I had you retrieve that book for me when you questioned if I was ill. There was a small change in my…constitution, lately. One that only early generations of my kind have experienced. So I wanted to brush up on history, and see if I could find any clues. And I did.”

He takes another long breath, and you hear the wood of the door crunch as his grip tightens.

“Experiencing a lack of focus, increased appetite, increased body temperature, and increased sensitivity to certain scents are all signs of one thing. An impending rut.”

A rut.

The word hits you like a train.

“While having an assistant was a nice change, being around you only exacerbated the issue.”

He doubts you’d taken notice with how immersed you’d been in your own tasks this week, but Neuvillette has been watching you. The way you tuck your hair back when you’re reading, the way your ass looks when you bend down to gather papers, the scent of your perfume whenever you approach his desk…

At first, he’d been distraught by his own actions—not understanding why he was being so…improper towards you. But now he gets it.

His instincts have been itching for something to mate. And now that something is you.

Diligent, kind, and pretty…those traits, combined with being around you 8 hours a day, have made you an easy pick.

“That’s why I told you to leave. Why I closed down Palais Mermonia today—to spare anyone any trouble, and to try and deal with this on my own. But you just had to come back…”

The hand on your chest inches closer to your breast—fingers hovering above the soft mound of flesh—before Neuvillette catches himself, and backs off.

“I think I have enough willpower remaining to grant you one last chance,” he tells you, although his throat tightens as he speaks—as if saying such a thing pains him.

“I’ll release you, and when I do, run.”

Run.

Run.

Your instincts scream at you to do just that—the world moving in slow motion as Neuvillette takes a deep breath and takes a step back. 

His hands retract, momentarily relinquishing their hold on you and the door.

All you need to do now is twist the handle and dart outside. To leave him here, and not look back.

You turn the handle, and the door inches open. Behind you, you swear you hear something akin to a whine becoming trapped in Neuvillette’s throat. 

Despite his words, he doesn’t want you to leave. He’s only doing this out of consideration for you.

But…based on the way he’d spoken about his rut—the way he’d needed to read up on his symptoms to determine what exactly was going on—he’s obviously never had to deal with this before. And from what you know of ruts and heat cycles and the like, you doubt dealing with this alone will be enjoyable for him. 

In fact, it will probably be painful.

Your grip on the door handle tightens painfully.

You’re scared, but—

Slowly, you close the door—until it clicks, and you’re once again trapped inside the room with Neuvillette. 

You can’t leave him here to suffer on his own.

Neuvillette’s arms wrap around you. His nails dig into your skin through your shirt.

“Why didn’t you leave, you—”

His frustrated voice cuts off, and you can only assume he wants to call you some silly name, but can’t bring himself to. Ever polite, even in this state of his.

He rests his forehead on your shoulder, his long hair tickling your cheek. You reach up one of your hands and gently pet his hair.

“It didn’t feel right to leave you here. Alone,” you respond, and despite the way your heart is racing nervously, you still don’t regret your decision.

Neuvillette huffs. His breath is hot on your skin.

“I won’t be able to stop myself any longer,” he tells you. The truth in his words become apparent a moment later, when you feel his canines scrape your neck, and his pelvis grind against your ass. 

The almighty Iudex—helpless to fight his instincts.

“I know,” you say quietly. Your other hand gives his arm a little squeeze—a reassurance that you’ll be okay. 

“This is wrong of me…”

The frustration in his tone is quickly melting into desperation, his lips incessant at your neck.

A quiet laugh leaves you.

“Wriothesley and I…we already do this kind of thing together. So…if it helps, consider it a part of my job.”

Truthfully, you don’t consider it to be a part of your job. What you and Wriothesley have is not born out of obligation (although, neither is this). But you’re sure hearing such a thing from you will help put Neuvillette at ease, considering his penchant for propriety.

And, of course, it does.

He takes a deep breath—

“Thank you—”

—and then immediately grabs your chin, and turns your head so he can kiss you.

The noise of surprise you make is quickly drowned out by his tongue. A tongue that is longer than a humans, considering it pushes into the back of your mouth—nearly forcing past your uvula and down your throat.

The intense kiss has you fisting your hands in his shirt, your eyes squeezing shut as you attempt to reciprocate, but with every passing second, you realize that will be impossible.

He is absolutely going to swallow you whole.

His barrage of sloppy, passionate kisses go on for what seems like forever—your head actually beginning to swim as your body fights for oxygen.

Only when the first, pathetic whine leaves your throat does Neuvillette remember he needs to allow you to breathe. 

Retracting his tongue, a line of spit connects the two of you as you begin gasping for air.

However, Neuvillette is unable to wait for you to regain your bearings.

He grabs you by the backs of your thighs and hefts you into the air—your knees straddling either side of his torso as he carries you across his office, and over to the sofa.

He lays you down on the soft cushions, and you stare up at him, your skin flushed, eyes wide, and chest heaving.

He needs to see more of you. Needs to hear more cute sounds. Needs you all fucked out and stuffed with his—

Swooping down, Neuvillette captures your lips again. But this time, it’s more of a proper make-out—his lips melding against yours and your tongues rolling together as his hands trace your waist and settle near your hips.

You gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants. Then, a beat later, the hem of your panties.

Both items of clothing are in the way of what he wants.

In one swift move, he discards them both—stripping your lower half bare. He deposits your clothing on the floor beside the couch, and as he does so, he sits back—his gaze heavy with hunger as he admires you.

The intensity with which he regards you has you quickly feeling self-conscious, but before you can even think of trying to shield yourself from him, his hands are on your knees.

He pries your legs apart. 

You can't help the little gasp that leaves you—your pussy throbbing with nervous anticipation as his fingertips trace up your thighs.

His palms settle on your hips, and again, a noise is ripped out of you as he forces your lower half off the couch.

As if you weigh nothing more than a feather, Neuvillette drags you down the couch to meet him—your spine curving as he continues to manhandle you—lifting your pelvis farther and farther off the cushions, until your ass is resting on his chest, and your legs are thrown over his shoulders.

His gaze angles sharply downwards, to your cunt. And for a second, the pressure he exudes is truly that of a dragon—one that could unhinge its jaw and swallow you in one bite.

But while Neuvillette does open his mouth, he doesn’t bare any teeth.

No, the Hydro Dragon Sovereign actually wets his lips before he leans down to meet you.

The first taste of his meal.

You can’t help but hold your breath—your fingers curling into the couch cushions beneath you as Neuvillette’s tongue nudges between your folds.

He traces his tongue up—circling your clit, and making you jolt—before dragging it back down to the spot where your arousal has started to pool. You can feel the pressure of his tongue as he presses it at your entrance.

And for a few seconds, he doesn’t move. He just sits there, silently allowing your taste—your essence—to wash over his tongue. But once he's sure that he's memorized the taste of you—committed it to his memory as a sinful pleasure he’ll surely relish in during the millennia yet to come—he gets down to business.

His tongue nudges between your walls, his nose brushing up against the soft skin of your pussy as he makes his mouth flush with you. And as he does so, you (foolishly) assume he's as deep as he can go. That the stretch of your cunt around his tongue will be good preparation for what's likely to come, and he'll simply lap at you until he's satisfied.

…of course, if he was a normal man, that might be the case.

You keep forgetting that he's a dragon.

“Oh, fuck,” you pant, hips jumping in his hold as his tongue suddenly thickens and elongates. It twists deeper inside of you, filling up your cunt wholly.

You've never felt anything akin to this before.

“Monsieur—,” you say, breathless. You can't even think of what you want to say to him.

His sharp eyes slide open, meeting yours. 

He says nothing, doesn't dare to take his mouth off of you to speak—not willing to let a drop of you go to waste. But, he does give your leg a little squeeze—a small reassurance, you think.

Then, his tongue starts to move.

He fucks it inside of you with precise control—rolling it up against different areas inside of you until he locates that one special spot that makes you gasp. Your thighs tighten around his head, and your pussy clamps down on his tongue, causing a happy little rumble to resound inside Neuvillette’s chest.

He becomes relentless immediately, his nose brushing up against your clit as he continues grinding his tongue inside of you. Your body writhes, and he holds you tightly—his fingers pressing bruises into your skin where he touches you.

He can't stop. 

He bullies your g-spot incessantly.

You feel like you’re on fire—pleasure scorching away at the nerves that connect your brain to your body. 

You can't control yourself.

The moans and whines that escape you—the arousal that gushes over Neuvillette’s tongue as he continues fucking you…

“Monsieur…Neuvillette, I—”

Oh god, you can't even get a full sentence out. You want to warn him that you're going to cum—that you won't be able to hold back if his tongue continues moving inside of you like that—but he already knows. He can sense what's coming in the way your muscles tense, and your breath catches.

Cum, he wants to say, but doesn't—not daring to remove his mouth from you when you're on the precipice of an orgasm. 

Within seconds, you come undone—the walls of your pussy fluttering around him, and helpless whimpers falling from your lips.

And yet, even with you being mid-orgasm, a dragon that's drunk on the taste of you pushes for more. He folds you over—trying to reach deeper inside of you. 

The slick from your pussy overflows and drips down between the cheeks of your ass, and immediately, Neuvillette’s fingers are there—gathering it up and smearing it against your hole.

The sensation has you sharply intaking a breath.

“Neuvillette, you're—”

“Shh,” he says, for the first time retracting his tongue from inside of you. He kisses at your clit, his free hand trailing up your torso and beneath your shirt. 

“Lift your arms,” he says, his voice deep, and yet soft. The hunger in his gaze hasn't waned one bit, but knowing he has a mate to help him through his rut has put him somewhat at ease, and he doesn't want you to fear him.

Without arguing, you do as he says, and he manages to wrestle your shirt over your head. 

Finally, you're bare beneath him. 

He takes a second to admire you, his hand moving to rest against one of your breasts. He cups it with his palm, his thumb brushing against your hardened nipple, and when you immediately jolt in response—he almost smiles.

Almost, because he still has more work to do if he wants to fully indulge in you, and satisfy his own needs.

“I'll take care of you,” he promises. “Trust me.”

And before you can even think of how to respond, he slips one of his fingers into your ass. 

The gasp that leaves you quickly deteriorates into a lewd moan as his tongue once again returns to your cunt, and you swear it’s somehow even bigger than it was before. 

Not having forgotten his new discoveries, Neuvillette effortlessly locates that special little spot inside of you and begins assaulting it once more—reveling in the way your body shakes, and your ass flutters around his finger. 

He needs you pliant and ready for him, and it takes all of his willpower to not rush. To work at the pace your body needs.

Luckily, his mouth on your pussy and his hand on your breast helps loosen you up. The tension you'd first held—nervous about stepping into the dragon's clutches—begins melting away. 

You trust that he won't hurt you.

“Ah—!” 

He slips a second finger inside of you.

Compared to the incessant rub of his tongue inside you, the motion of his fingers is calmer—a purposeful, moderate pace—and the dueling sensations make your head spin.

It's all so much. 

“Neuvillette—”

You reach one of your hands up, needing to ground yourself with something—and you end up taking a fistful of his hair. 

Neuvillette very nearly growls at the sensation.

He needs to hear you say his name like that again. Actually, more than that, he needs to feel you clenching down on his—

Neuvillette groans into your pussy as you tug at his hair once more. In response, he retracts his tongue from inside you and drags it upwards—grinding it against your clit.

Instantly, you lose it.

A mix of curses, blabbers, and his name are drawn from you—your body squirming against the couch cushions as he laps at your neglected and sensitive clit. At the same time, he scissors his fingers inside your ass, testing to see if you’re stretched enough for one more—

“Neuvillette—I’m gonna—”

“Cum.” 

He says it this time—a low command partnered with the sensation of a third finger pressing inside of you. But before your brain can even digest the increased girth of his fingers, his mouth suctions back on your clit, and your toes curl.

“Fuck—!” you choke, your head pressing into the cushion as the tension inside of you snaps—pleasure rushing forth.

You unconsciously tug at Neuvillette’s hair and he takes a deep, long breath in through his nose. He’s careful to not stop the motion of his tongue or the grinding of his fingers inside of you until you begin to whine—your hand moving from his hair to his shoulder as you attempt to push him away.

Then, he finally relents.

Sitting back, Neuvillette takes a moment to survey you. 

Your chest heaving as you attempt to catch your breath, a few stray hairs sticking to the skin of your face, the slick arousal that’s smeared against your pussy, and the way you’re asshole flutters around nothing after he slowly removes his fingers…

You’re ready.

Still in the middle of catching your breath, you’re drawn back into reality by the sound of the rustling of clothes.

You peek your eyes open to find Neuvillette above you, shedding himself of his clothing. You hadn't noticed earlier, but he isn’t wearing his formal robes today. Maybe because he hadn't been expecting to see anyone, and therefore hadn’t bothered dressing up to the nines.

Neuvillette starts by loosening his tie, and then unbuttons his shirt—tossing both items down onto the floor, where they lay in a heap along with your own clothing. You expect his pants to be the next to go, but you both realize at the same moment that with his boots on, it will take more time than he wants to completely strip his bottom half.

Luckily, he doesn’t need to be completely naked to fuck you.

Popping the button and tugging down the zipper of his pants, you watch with bated breath as finally shoves his pants and underwear down. The fabric drags across his bulge as he does so, and you note for the first time how…substantial it is. 

He may actually be bigger than Wriothesley, which is something you were not expect—

Neuvillette finishes shoving his clothing down to his thighs, and you watch in pure shock as not one, but two heavy, ribbed, lightly glowing dicks spring out of his trousers.

…oh.

You hold your breath, unable to peel your eyes away from the sight of him. You’d never even considered that as a dragon, his sexual organs may be a bit different from that of a humans. You can understand now why he’d made a point to work your ass open…

Speaking of—

“Neuv—!” you gasp in surprise as he rubs his dicks between the folds of your pussy. You feel the head of one of his members catch at your entrance, but he doesn’t linger there—instead using his hand to guide it down to your ass.

“You’ll be okay,” he says, sensing your apprehension. 

He doesn’t look at you, though, as he says those words—his voice tight with desperation. He can’t wait anymore, so he has to believe them. Has to believe that he’s done enough to prepare you for what’s to come.

Gripping his length tightly, Neuvillette nudges his dick inside your asshole. 

It’s a tight fit—one that has you choking on a whine and grasping at his wrist—your nails digging into his skin. It’s not painful, but it’s still a lot—your chest shuddering as he continues to inch himself deeper inside of you.

As he does so, his other cock grinds against your pussy—helplessly waiting for its own turn to be inside of you, precum leaking from his slit and smearing against your skin.

“Gods,” he pants, a waver in his voice. His eyes are aglow as he watches himself slowly sink into your ass—the friction positively heavenly—and soon enough, he’s fully inside of you, his hips flush with your bottom. 

Your breaths coming quick, and your hand still holding tight around his wrist, the two of you meet eyes.

Then, the last little thread of Neuvillette’s sanity finally crumbles in the face of his overwhelming need to rut.

Claws digging into the flesh of one of your thighs, he forces it wider open, and grabs his second cock with his other hand.

“Neuvillette, wait—,” you try to say, but it’s no use. Even with your ass still adjusting to his intrusion, Neuvillette shoves the head of his cock into your pussy. 

“Oh, fuck—!” you cry, your fingernails digging crescents into his skin. 

Already drenched from Neuvillette’s previous actions, he expects your pussy to take him easier, but with your ass full, and your body struggling to relax, it proves challenging. He can only get his length half way inside of you before you’re gripping him so tightly that he can’t move another inch.

Drunk with desire, he actually growls.

“I—”

I’m sorry, you want to say, but can’t get the words out. You just need a minute to adjust. You can do this for him—want to do this for him—but—

“Hush,” he mumbles, close, and then his lips are on yours. 

His body cages you in as he kisses you—one of his hands resting beside your head, while the other finds the small of your back, rubbing circles into your flesh.

“You’ve been doing so well for me,” he tells you, breathless. “Taking everything I give, responding so perfectly to everything.”

His words of praise go straight to your pussy, and you whine as he pushes deeper inside of you—your walls relaxing enough to allow him farther in.

Neuvillette makes a happy, yet somewhat inhuman noise.

“That's it, good girl…just a bit more.”

Hearing such words from the esteemed Iudex—his hand warm on your back, and his lips soft on your skin…you want nothing more than to please him.

Taking a shaky little breath, you dispel the tension in your body. 

Immediately, Neuvillette takes advantage. With one last nudge, he stuffs the rest of his cock inside of you.

You’ve never felt so full.

Overcome with joy—a satisfaction deep within him that he’s never felt before—Neuvillette kisses you once more. 

…then, he begins to move his hips.

You cry out, your body shaking in his hold, but he doesn’t let you go. 

The slow, full rock of his hips very quickly deteriorates into quick, desperate thrusts—his cocks stretching out your holes.

The sensation is like nothing you’ve experienced before, and you find yourself helpless to do anything at all. You can hear your own voice, but don’t know what you’re saying, or if the sounds you’re making are words at all. Because while it’s your pussy and ass that are being made a mess of, your brain feels equally as scrambled—unable to conjure even one intelligent thought.

Right now, you’re just a dragon's mindless breeding hole.

The sloppy sound of sex fills Neuvillette’s office, and while it is nearly drowned out by the downpour happening outside—thick droplets of rain pelting against the windows—the plap of Neuvillette’s balls against your ass is impossible to miss. 

Ah…you’re going insane.

A tiny sob slips past your lips, tears beading at the corners of your eyes. 

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire—each stroke of Neuvillette’s cocks pushing you closer and closer to the edge of another orgasm. 

“Ahh…”

The heady sound from Neuvillette catches your attention, and you peak your eyes open, staring up at the dragon above you.

Never before have you seen him look so debauched—his hair falling out from his braid, and his face and chest flushed. His eyes remain focused on the space where his body meets yours, mesmerized by the way your body accepts him in full—nearly sucking him in, now that you’ve adjusted and any discomfort has turned to pleasure.

Only when he hears you sob again—a pathetic, desirous little sound—does his gaze stray upwards.

And what he sees makes his heart skip a beat.

He’s not sure he’s ever witnessed a sight so sinful. The plush of your lips, the unshed tears that wet your eyes, and the bounce of your breasts with each of his thrusts. 

Before he knows it, he’s leaning down to kiss you. 

You whine into his mouth, your arms lifting to hug around his shoulders as he closes the distance between your bodies. He groans as your nails leave tracks against his porcelain skin, but he doesn’t relent. 

He’s getting close.

And, judging by the way you whimper—your pussy and ass clenching down on him—you must be close too.

Spurred on, Neuvillette kisses you again and again—his kisses open-mouthed and sloppy as his tongue dances around your own. Drool and tears quickly paint your cheeks, but you’re helpless to do anything about it.

Right now, all you know is that you’re going to cum. The stretch of his cocks—the way they rub against your walls as he continues fucking into you with abandon—it’s too much. Your muscles tense, and Neuvillette’s brows pinch together as your holes suddenly tighten on him.

“Neuvillette,” you sob, the sound of his name broken as you speak it against his lips. 

“Y/N,” he pants in turn. His rhythm becomes careless as he begins to lose it as well, but he continues to fuck you the best he can despite the constricting of your walls.

It’s only a few seconds longer before you come undone—your body shaking and nails digging into his back as you orgasm. Broken little sounds escape from your mouth as waves of pleasure tear through you, and the sensation of you cumming is ultimately what does Neuvillette in as well.

With one last buck of his hips, the Iudex buries himself inside of you and cums.

His chest shudders as you milk him dry, and you struggle to keep your eyes open—feeling utterly boneless now that the tension inside of you has gone.

For a minute, the two of you stay as you are—basking in the afterglow of your orgasms. Then, Neuvillette sits back and slowly pulls out of you. 

You make a quiet noise, feeling yourself clench around nothing once you’re no longer stuffed with his cocks, and he smiles at the sound, sensing a hint of disappointment.

“You did so well,” he tells you. 

Placing his hands on your waist, he gently maneuvers you to allow himself room to lay down on his side beside you. 

The feel of his arm wrapping around you and pulling you snuggly back against his body causes a contented sigh to leave your lips, and after a few seconds, you muster up the energy to speak.

“I take it you feel a bit better now?”

“Much,” he responds, and you can feel the smile on his lips as he presses them to your cheek. 

“However…”

He peppers another kiss against your cheek, and then your jaw, and neck. At the same time, his fingers ghost down your abdomen, until his palm is resting on your lower tummy. 

With gentle pressure, he urges your ass back against him—his hips inching forward at the same time—and shockingly, you realize that he’s still hard.

“...it seems that I’m not satisfied quite yet.”

When Wriothesley emerges from the Fortress the next day, the downpour he’d caught word of from some of the prison guards has stopped—only a few clouds littering the blue sky.

Hopefully this is a good sign, he thinks to himself, starting on his way to the aquabus station. 

He takes the line into the city, intending first to visit Neuvillette at the Palais—to hear about how his week fared with the help of an assistant. Then, once that’s done, he’ll go and visit you at your apartment to…catch up.

Smiling to himself, Wriothesley departs the aquabus and takes the path towards Nevuillette’s office. (Because somehow, he doubts the Iudex is at home relaxing like most people do on their days off.)

As he trudges up the steps to the Palais Mermonia, he steps on a wet piece of paper in front of the door. It’s the handmade notice that had been posted on the door two evenings prior, and had subsequently blown off in the storms that followed—but Wriothesley doesn’t think anything of it.

Pushing the door open, he heads inside.

“Neuvillette?” he calls gently, his knuckles rapping against the door to the Iudex’s office. 

The sound of a throat being cleared comes from inside.

“Come in.”

“I figured I’d find you here,” Wriothesley jokes as he steps inside, spotting Neuvillette as his normal place behind his desk. However, what isn’t normal is the fact that there’s a person sleeping on his couch—their body shrouded with a blanket, and an assortment of untouched food and a glass of water on the coffee table beside them.

Immediately Wriothesley freezes, confused about what’s going on, but…when he looks a bit closerr, he realizes the hair popping out from the top of the blanket, and the scent of the person on his couch are all too familiar.

“Y/N?”

Wriothesley walks up to the sofa, blinking in surprise when he sees that it is indeed you who is passed out—your face just barely peeking from beneath the blankets that have been snuggly wrapped around you.

“You know, Neuvillette, when I lent her to you for the week, I didn’t expect you to work her until the point of exhaustion,” he jokes, looking over towards Neuvillette with a playful hint of a grin. He expects Neuvillette to sigh and apologize, but the abashed look he is instead faced with causes Wriothesley to pause once more. 

It’s then that the Duke notices a small pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor next to the sofa, along with your shoes. 

Hesitantly, Wriothesley grips the edge of the blanket and slowly tugs it away from your body. 

He’s met with the sight of naked shoulders, and a neck peppered with small bites and bruises.

Just as slowly as he’d moved the blanket down, he tugs it back up.

The office sits in silence for a moment. 

“She is…unharmed,” Neuvillette finally speaks, moving a strand of hair away from his face. “Her current state is my fault.”

Wriothesley’s eyes scan over him.

“Compared to when I last saw you, you seem to be faring much better.”

His words cause the blush on Neuvillette’s face to deepen, and Wriothesley cracks a small smile, letting loose a sigh.

“Ahh, to think even the almighty Iudex would fare poorly due to unfulfilled needs.”

“It’s a bit more complex than that,” Neuvillette says with a sigh of his own, prompting Wriothesley to raise an eyebrow. However, when Neuvillette doesn’t speak right away—unsure about divulging the specifics that lead to this outcome—Wriothesley decides to not push it.

“Well, whatever the reason, I trust that you haven’t hurt her, and that she consented to whatever took place here.”

“Of course,” Neuvillette responds immediately.

Standing up from his chair, he walks over and stands beside Wriothesley—reaching down to brush a gloved finger against your cheek. You stir only slightly—nuzzling your face into the pillow your head rests upon.

Both men smile.

“She’s a good assistant, isn’t she?”

“She is; one that works with care and compassion for the one she is helping. She performed well beyond her duties.”

“You can see now why I like her,” Wriothesley says softly, and Neuvillette can see the fondness in his gaze as he regards you.

“She did tell me that she and you are not necessarily in a committed relationship, but…I apologize regardless if I crossed any sort of line.”

Wriothesley hums.

“While the thought of sharing her with anyone else like that does make me feel a bit…possessive…she did consent to what occurred, based on your words. And, honestly speaking, I’m glad it was you over anyone else.”

Neuvillette cocks an eyebrow.

“Really?”

“I trust you,” Wriothesley tells him. “Although, you having sex is not a thought that had crossed my mind before now. It makes me curious as to what exactly you did to her while the two of you were alone.”

“I assure you a majority of her time in my care was spent with her performing her standard duties as an assistant, and nothing else. As to what happened beyond that, well…I’m not sure I possess the courage to recall such details aloud.”

Wriothesley opens his mouth to assure Neuvillette he was just teasing, but the dragon continues before the Duke can interrupt.

“I suppose if you’d like to know, next time—should there be one—you’ll simply have to be present.”

Catching the meaning of his words, Wriothesley meets his gaze. 

Understanding passes between them.

“Hmm…I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

“Once Y/N has recovered, and when you next return to the surface, I’ll have to invite you both for a meal,” Neuvillette says, turning back towards his desk. “In the end, the support from you both did alleviate the issue that plagued me. It’s only right to repay such kindness when I’m next given the opportunity.”

Kneeling down beside you, Wriothesley pets your hair.

“Well, it would be a shame to pass up on such an offer. I certainly hope that fate grants the opportunity for our schedules to align.”

Taking a seat behind his desk, a small smile appears on Neuvillette’s lips.

“I shall hope for the same.”

#genshin impact smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette fic #genshin impact x reader #bean fic #genshin x reader

[sixosix]

happy 5k, six! i remember finding you randomly one day bc i wanted to read more genshin fics and look where you are today!! you absolutely deserve all the love n support you're given rn /p /happy

in any case, i can't resist the event calling out to me frfr, so if it's possible, may i please request a badtzmaru plushie, wanderer, and fluff?

wc 300, modern au; THANK U SO MUCH ANON WHATTT that means so much to me!! so glad u were w me thru my journey... and also im sorry LMFAOO u sent this ask a month ago,,, i hope u'll be able to read this anon<3

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

“What the hell is that,” Kunikuzushi said blankly.

“It looks like you! Doesn’t it?”

The badtz-maru plush stared back at him, daring him to deny it. Kunikuzushi glared at it with contempt rolling off of him in actual visible waves. “No. No, it really doesn’t.”

You held the plushie by his face and compared the unhappy expressions. They looked terrifyingly similar. It was hilarious, and so you burst out laughing at Kunikuzushi’s face.

Bullied, Kunikuzushi snatched the plushie off your grip and reared it far from your reach. “Why do you even have this?”

Kunikuzushi was scowling and trying his best to come off as intimidating, but with the badtz-maru plush in his grip, it was excruciatingly difficult to take him seriously. Or maybe it was because you’d gotten too used to him that it didn’t affect you. His attention was still attention from him.

You grinned and batted your eyelashes in a way you knew would make him falter. “I told you already. It reminded me of you.”

Kunikuzushi was still scowling, but his arm no longer extended like he was seconds away from chucking the palm-sized stuffed toy. It was still staring at him, and you were reminded of those pets looking like their owner videos.

“How long have you had this?” he asked, voice much quieter. His ears were red.

“Probably since you left to visit Japan.”

“A week?”

“A week!” You gasped. “That’s shorter than your last trip. Did you miss me that much?”

He cocked a brow. “This is more home than that shithole.”

You wanted to coo and tease him for that rare glimpse of vulnerability (even when veiled by his indirect wording), but you knew what he meant—you knew what it felt like. Your quiescent house only ever felt like a home when Kunikuzushi was here.

“Should I buy you a plushie that looks like me for you to take?” you wondered aloud, genuinely considering it. The stupid badtz-maru plushie you bought out of a moment of weakness from missing him, no matter how ridiculous, helped you when your arms felt a little lonely.

“No need.” Kunikuzushi threw the plushie to the bed, ignoring your alarmed shout. He drew you in by the waist and smiled in that deceptively sweet way only he could really pull off. “I’ll just take the real deal along with me instead.”

#606: 5K EVENT #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you

[xianyoon]

not without you

wriothesley x reader when he puts you to sleep written for the pookie bff @arsonistbf comfort & fluff. 0.3k words.

restful nights never quiet come easily these days; everything seems to keep you up at night – from psych essays to your kitty meowing for more food, sleep is now a precious commodity – always flitting about and unsure of when you would next see her. your nights are now filled with staring at the ceilings, counting the sheep until it fades into cows and chickens and every other farm animal you can think of.

"can't sleep?" wriothesley rolls over to face you. lucky him, you think to yourself. he bears a handsome sleep-drunk look on his face, sleepily awoken by your restless tossing and turning in bed.

"mhm."

"i'm sorry to hear that. cuddle me?"

"i'm sorry i woke you up." you nestle closer into his arms with that, as close as you possibly can. soak him in – his warmth, his scent, sink deeper into his arms. as deep as your souls could merge.

"that's alright, darlin'."

"if you can sleep, go sleep." you sulk, pulling the covers high above you. it was better to have one of you better rested than both of you not getting a wink all night.

wriothesley suddenly sits up straight at that, sporting a playfully offended look. he tousles your hair in retaliation – no longer the gentle strokes he had been indulging you with for the past few minutes.

"you really think i'd leave you up all night alone? c'mon."

you feel wriothesley's cheek rest against yours, warm and soft and supple. he's warm – more so than usual, you think – as if he's attempting to give you more warmth. it was so wriothesley. so comforting.

"thank you." you whisper softly, hiding your face into the crook of his neck, squeezing your eyes shut tightly.

"you're most welcome."

"i love you."

"i love me too- ow!"

fear not. he whispers iloveyou after you’ve peacefully drifted off to sleep — your first restful one after a long time.

#― latest brew. #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x gn reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin impact x gn reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley drabbles #genshin drabbles #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley comfort #nereids' realm #astronetwrk

[romaritimeharbor]

BLEED. — in which the Knave attends to her wounded little sibling.

— trigger & content warnings. depictions of injuries & blood, descriptions of violence, implied murder. 1.4k words.

— pairings & notes. hurt/comfort. arlecchino & younger sibling!reader. reader is a member of the fatui. reader is gender neutral (they/them pronouns). arlecchino is referred to using her real name.

— author's notes. arle <3

       "Oh, you— you came."

       Their surprise was evident, written all over their features as they stared up at the Harbinger. The eerie, echoing click of her heels cut through the silence that, upon her entry, had befallen the Fatui's medics. The microexpressions on her face—brows furrowed inwards, gaze focused on nothing else but them, and lips pointed vaguely downwards—promised a fate far worse than death for anyone who dared to interrupt her.

       Arlecchino was a calm, even-tempered woman...

       ...That is, she was a calm and even-tempered woman when her beloved little sibling was both safe and well. However, the blood soaking through the bandages wrapped around the lower half of their torso made it clear that they were not well. Safe, yes, but well? That, they most certainly were not.

       Her tall stance cast a shadow over their body. Perhaps if they were anyone else, they would currently be fearing for their life... but as they gazed up at her with a meek smile, it occured to them that they were definitely concerned (though undoubtedly in a far more lighthearted way than any other person would be).

       "You look so scary like this," they giggled timidly, snapping their gaze away and looking anywhere but at her. Subconsciously, their fingers fidgeted with the blanket draped over their legs. "Don't be mad... I messed up a bit. You know. Things— things happen..."

       Arlecchino sighed, cutting them off: "Are you wounded anywhere else, [Name]?"

       "No. Just there."

       "I see," she muttered thoughtfully, rolling up her sleeves. The inky darkness of her curse pulsed and spread, crawling further up her arms than it usually did—they couldn't help but frown slightly. Nonetheless, they said nothing of it. She would surely brush them off and tell them to worry more about themselves if they did.

       Arlecchino turned to the nervous agents in the room; the second they did, everyone immediately tried to appear busy, whipping their bodies away from the direction of the Knave and her baby sibling with such speed that it surely gave a few of them whiplash. "You all are dismissed."

       'Get out. Now.'

       With polite acknowledgments to her unspoken command, heads bowing to the Fourth, the Fatui's medics were quick to leave, urgency evident in their speedy steps. Anything they had been working on was long forgotten and left behind; certainly, the soldiers were unconcerned with their work. If anything, the only thing they were concerned with was getting away from Arlecchino. It wasn't very difficult to understand why.

       No agent wanted to so much as imagine what might happen if they were to somehow invoke her fury, especially now of all times.

       Once the final agent had left, and the heavy double doors shut—shockingly without any echo; perhaps the medics were afraid that even closing the door forcibly enough would agitate the Harbinger—their eyes shifted upwards.

       "Peruere..." they murmured softly, straightening their spine somewhat and removing the blanket from their legs so that they could gingerly swing them over the side of the bed. They wished not to agitate their wound further—it still throbbed and ached, so they knew that one incorrect move would render them doubled over in pain. Their elder sister took notice of their enhanced caution.

       "Did they give you any medication yet?" Arlecchino—Peruere, rather, inquired. She turned away from them briefly, speedily shuffling through the medical supplies on a nearby table. Scissors, gauze, antibacterial ointment...

       "They tried, but nothing worked... well enough, that is. My fever has gone down since I arrived and it hurts slightly less, but it just hurts far too much for any of their weaker painkillers to be effective. This base isn't well-equipped to handle wounds like this."

       Even breathing was a chore, really; each time their chest rose and fell, painful sparks clawed through their skin, originating at the gash in their side.

       "Hm." Her face twisted and soured somewhat. "...I suppose I have no choice but to speak to the Doctor once we return to the Motherland, then."

       Peruere then began thoroughly scrubbing her hands with special attention to the underside of her nails in one of the medical sinks, as to ensure that she did not cause any kind of infection to fester in their wound.

       Their breath hitched, and they immediately went on to frantically ask, "Aren't you busy? You don't have to come with me. I can return by myself, it really isn't a big deal... even if that means talking to him—"

       "No." Her eyes shifted to their direction (and for a moment, she couldn't help but think that they looked a little bit like a kicked puppy—dejected and pouty, as if they had somehow upset her). The Knave's tone softened slightly. "No. I do not trust the Doctor around you, nor do I trust these agents to ensure your safety. You are injured. I am the only one who can ensure no harm will befall you."

       "I can defend myself," they asserted. "I'm your sibling, you know."

       "I have no doubt that you can," she softly assured, drying her hands with a clean towel. "However, at the moment, you are in no condition to fight."

       With that, she collected the necessary items and walked back towards their bed. Setting all but the scissors aside, she kneeled down, and began cutting away at the gauze.

       "Did they clean your wound?"

       "Yes."

       She hummed in ackowledgement.

       Peruere's gaze softened somewhat at the sight of their wound—still wet with blood, the perimeter of the wound lined in matte crimson. She observed the way their stomach heaved with each breath.

       Scorching flames burned in her veins. Had she not known any better, she would resolve to deliver a fate far worse than death to whoever did this, to personally escort them straight to the lowest circle of hell and splatter their guts across the floor.

       (She awaited and anticipated the day that the Doctor somehow, in some way, brought harm to her sibling. Should that day ever arrive, she would finally have a reason, an excuse, to reunite him and the previous Knave.

       Peruere was patient. She could wait.)

       ...She did know better, however, and her sibling was just about as much of a force as she was.

       Whoever did this was certainly already well-acquainted with the devil.

       After squeezing some of the antibacterial ointment onto her fingertips, she gingerly spread it across the area of their wound.

       They grimaced somewhat, body instinctively snapping away from her hands. Peruere's freehand shot out to grab their hip with enough pressure to keep them in place but not enough to hurt them any further.

       "Shh. Be still."

       "But it stings," they whined, shooting her an accusatory glance; there was a glimmer of mischief in their glazed eyes, however, and she immediately understood that whatever they were going to accuse her of was unserious in its nature. "You're making it hurt on purpose."

       At that, the Harbinger rolled her eyes. It was clear that there was no true agitation behind the gesture.

       "No, it doesn't, and no, I assure you that I am not," she replied calmly, continuing to spread the ointment to ensure that every part of the injury was adequately lathered. "I put nothing on it that would make it hurt. Don't be dramatic."

       "Ahh... you're so mean, Per..." they sighed dramatically. "So terribly mean to your beloved, wounded baby sibling~"

       She chose not to feed into their mischief. Instead, she began winding the gauze around their body. Once she felt that it was properly wrapped—covered with enough layers to keep dirt and debris out of their flesh and blood—she pulled. "Is this too tight?"

       A soft hum rose from their throat as they inhaled as to ensure that it really wasn't too tight, even when they breathed deeply. "No. The pressure helps with the pain, actually."

       The Harbinger nodded, securing the end of the gauze. She then rose—though not fully, and rather bent at the waist somewhat to meet them at eye-level. The hand that was void of any residue from the cream softly carressed their face.

       Her pupils bore into theirs, thumb rubbing back and forth across their cheekbone. She was mindful as to avoid scratching them with her nail. Though she often told others not to gaze into her eyes for too long—'What you see may not be very pleasant,' she would say—they seemed to be an exception.

       In her eyes, as most do, they saw destruction, death, and madness. In them, it did not induce fear. It made them feel safe.

       And perhaps that made them no less mad then their elder sister was.

       That fate, however, was one that they were content with.

       The Knave withdrew, though not before placing a tender kiss on the crown of their head.

       "Rest now. We will depart for Snezhnaya when you awaken again."

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#✧— aphe's creations. #astronetwrk #divider by @/cafekitsune ♡ #platonic genshin x reader #platonic genshin #genshin impact x reader #platonic genshin impact #arlecchino x reader #platonic arlecchino x reader #genshin x reader

[euthymiya]

the delicate line between friends and lovers ft. alhaitham — in which the akademiya’s scribe and the bimarstan’s head nurse develop some serious feelings for each other in between hook ups. evidently, neither of them are very good at being able to communicate these feelings, though.

contains: 14.0k word count ; female reader ; explicit content—not suitable for minors ; fwb to lovers ; mutual pining ; banter and teasing ; angst with happy ending (this one goes out to all the girls who wonder if their fav would choose them: they would!) ; reader is the (very overworked) head nurse at the bimarstan ; mentions of blood and injuries (alhaitham) ; reader has insecurities ; jealousy ; dry humping—and kaveh being a major cockblock unfortunately ; alcohol drinking—4ggravate (minus alhaitham) appearance! ; clothed sex ; unprotected vaginal sex ; no prep ; creampie

the akademiya is well connected in its networks. meaning one thing: gossip travels fast. against his will, alhaitham learns far more about people than he wants to, details upon details that travel even through his soundproof earpieces at times. 

today, for example, he learns without meaning to that the akademiya has decreased the previously approved funding for the bimarstan. this piece of information is able to irritate him enough that he almost itches to demand for the title of acting grand sage once more. sumeru, a nation of free healthcare, couldn’t possibly hope to underfund one of the pillars of the citizens and their well-being. not unless someone who’s as incapable and underdeveloped in critical thinking as the last grand sage himself (before alhaitham, of course) was in office. 

he walks to the bimarstan, footsteps heavy in the dead quiet of the night as he trudges through the door of the hospital. you’re already there to greet him, eyeing the way the arm under his cloak is tense and curled under the fabric. 

“another eremite attack?” you murmur, walking towards an empty room as you gaze at him over your shoulder to follow.

he does so wordlessly, eyeing the tired, overworked, and disarrayed nurses along the hospital as he walks past them. 

you’re no different, he studies, watching as you stifle a yawn, taking in the darkened circles under your eyes as he sits on an examination table while you bring out the necessary supplies to clean his wound. 

the akademiya—no, sumeru was blooming under his lead. that much he was aware of. you’d said it yourself, too, the first time he came. 

oh, it’s you! we’re most grateful for your changes, acting grand sage, you’d smiled at him, they’ve really helped improve things here at the bimarstan.

he wasn’t expecting that. the only reason why he’d stopped at the hospital for care instead of going home was because he’d run out of bandages, nothing more. one look at you had all but changed that, the tilt of your lips as they smile spinning his world on its axis in a completely new direction. you tend to his cuts that night, and even though he’d told himself he wouldn’t, he returns after the next expedition. 

and the next. and the next. and then it becomes routine. 

for a while, alhaitham told himself he only came to the hospital for his wounds instead of patching himself up after long expeditions in the desert because it was nice to see how the bimarstan ran. it’s important for him to be aware of necessary changes that must be made as acting grand sage—however temporary the job may be, he has every intention of doing it properly. so he studies and assesses the functionality of the hospital and makes decisions accordingly. those things can only happen if he visits frequently. 

but then he starts to notice that his feet truly only carry him here on the nights you work. though you work often and late into the night, too. being head nurse requires as much, of course, but he notices all too quickly that he’s begun to memorize your schedule. 

slowly but surely, he resigns himself to fate. he comes for you. 

“it’s just a light graze,” he mumbles after some time, revealing the small gash on his arm under his cloak. your eyebrows crinkle in concern for a moment before you set off to work, methodically and expertly cleaning away at the dried blood and disinfecting the wound. 

he doesn’t talk for a while before he finally says, “you’re short-staffed.”

it’s a question presented as an observation—he has a habit of doing that, of speaking his mind and waiting for an explanation to follow. 

you sigh, bandaging his arm as you murmur, “people are quitting. it’s been hectic in here—and the funding cut doesn’t exactly allow for a pay that seems worth the grueling hours.”

you love your job. it’s the first thing alhaitham knows about you. you take it very seriously, scolding anyone, even the acting grand sage, about proper care and healthy habits. 

did you stitch these yourself? you’d gasped when you first noticed the scars on his chest, that’s dangerous! do you know the infections you could contract from an improperly tended wound?”

it’s not as amusing now to watch the other nurses listen awkwardly as you scold him. he’s back to being the scribe, no longer tied to the title of sage. the nurses aren’t as alarmed anymore by your lack of formality—although, he’s sure by now, they’re a bit used to it too. 

“and i assume you’re not resting properly?” he gives you a knowing look, reaching forward with his free hand and brushing a callused but gentle thumb under your bruised eyebags. 

you close your eyes at the fleeting touch, humming before giving him a guilty smile. 

“i can’t let things get out of hand here.”

“you should take your own advice,” he snorts, “what was it again? something about proper rest and sleep to ensure a healthy lifestyle?”

“if you’re here to throw my words back in my face, i recall also mentioning getting into less trouble,” you huff, momentarily glaring at his arm before meeting his eyes. “what happened to being more careful?”

“like i said,” he shrugs, hissing slightly when you press on his wound to prove your point, “it’s just a graze.”

you and alhaitham are, no doubt, an unexpected match—if you can call yourselves that, even. it’s a complicated relationship you share, you and the former grand sage turned scribe. 

you patch him up late at night one day, and he so chivalrously accompanies you on your walk home after your shift. that’s all it was supposed to be…but, well, things are never as simple as sticking to the original plan. 

you invite him in for drinks, he accepts, you clumsily trip on your rug, he catches you swiftly, and somehow, in the mix, both of your lips end up meeting in the most heated kiss you’ve ever shared with someone. clothes are easy enough to shed, and stumbling to your bedroom is hardly complicated, and in a far from ideal turn of events, you sleep with the akademiya’s scribe. 

multiple times, in fact. 

by now, his visits to the bimarstan to see you are as frequent as your visits to his house to see him. the only difference is that his visits tend to be for medical reasons, and yours are…personal to say the least. it’s, of course, as these arrangements tend to go, one that’s strictly physical. 

being physically involved with a patient is scandalous enough, but romantic involvement would be nothing short of unethical. and he’s not a very romantically inclined individual anyway, so not toeing the line of something more is easy enough for the both of you. 

still, you’re quite fond of him—he’s funny when he wants to be and a gentleman underneath the blunt responses and straightforward remarks. you like to consider him as a good friend. one who knows your body a bit too well than most friends should, but a good friend nonetheless. 

you look at him unimpressed as you finish tending to his wound, scoffing and rolling your eyes as you point out, “you’d call it a graze even if your arm was dangling off the bone.”

that gets a chuckle out of him, his head tilting up as he looks at you. if you weren’t in a hospital with your work attire, this would feel oddly domestic: cleaning tenderly at his wounds as he looks at you softly. 

you and alhaitham never toe the line of something more, but you do take steps dangerously close sometimes. 

“when do you finish your shift?” he asks, voice a low rumble. 

“now,” you grin, giving him a mock glare as you add, “you have me working past the clock.”

“let me walk you home, then.” he’d do it anyway, regardless of whether or not you accept. still, you never turn him away. 

“how kind of you,” you say sarcastically—you know better than he does what he means, what he wants, and you can’t exactly say you don’t want it yourself. 

“i can be rather giving when i want,” he shrugs. 

“oh, yes,” you snort, “quite the giver.” the grin he sends you is nothing short of fond. 

the line blurs a little like it’s been drawn in the sand, grains carried away by the wind and leaving the faintest trace of the border you draw. somehow, even though you shouldn’t, you step closer to it, just at the edge. 

but it’s never enough to cross it. 

“am i?” he muses, “i’m glad you think so.”

“you know, most people would believe you talk too little. but i think you talk too much.”

his cloak falls back in place over his arm as he stands, lips curled in a rare smile—well, rare to anyone other than you, that is. he walks out, and you follow.

it almost feels like you're getting closer and closer to stumbling past the line against your will every day. 

——————————

alhaitham knows your home well. well enough that he knows to drop his cloak in the basket you keep for laundry so you can wash away the blood soaked into the fabric for him. 

is it normal to do the laundry of your fuck buddy? you’re not even sure. it’s not like you’d ask anyone, anyway. 

but it doesn’t matter—not when his lips find yours before you can think about it too much. it’s a slow kiss. he’s good with his mouth in more ways than one—good at kissing, good at pleasing, and he’s even good at talking. he’s a linguist, anyway, so it only makes sense. 

“eager,” you murmur in between kisses, nipping at his lips as he shivers. “did you miss me that badly in the desert?”

“of course,” he rasps, gently guiding you to fall back against your bed, his hand cupping the back of your head like you’re fragile as glass, “eremites don’t have as enticing of a touch as you do.”

“maybe if you ask nicely, they’ll be less rough with you,” you wiggle your brows, giggling.

he clicks his teeth, angling your jaw to trail kisses along the slant of it as his hands travel to your hips, gently rubbing the bare skin of your hips under your shirt. you hum appreciatively, closing your eyes and sighing at the soothing feeling of his warm palms seeping heat into your skin. your fingers thread into his hair, tangling into the locks for some sort of means to hold on and ground yourself. 

it’s like warm drizzles of syrup, his touch sinking into you as you absorb his sweetness. 

“and why would i need that when this is far better?”

every word alhaitham alhaitham says is punctuated with the warmth of his lips pressed into your skin. it’s almost soothing—he feels calming. it doesn’t feel heated, not the passionate kind that kindles something carnal in you. 

it feels warm, the soft and gentle kind that makes everything feel a bit lighter. a bit cozier. something more homely in this house of yours. 

“mhm,” you hum, your fingers slowly slipping from his hair as they fall to his shoulders, barely holding him in place as your eyes remain shut. it’s soothing, everything about him. enough that you don’t even realize you’re dozing off until he chuckles. 

“did i bore you into sleep?” he pecks your cheek. 

“no,” you tug your eyelids apart, giving him a sheepish grin, “sorry, you’re just warm.”

“oh yeah?” he grins, amused. he’s climbing off of you, much to your dismay, making a soft whine run past your lips as your hands chase him. 

he’s quick to replace the lack of him, though, planting himself beside you as he pulls you into his chest. 

cuddling isn’t new for the two of you. usually, it’s a post-coital activity, though—you start to think alhaitham is just as bad at drawing a clear line in the sand as you. he’s gentle as he pulls your covers over you, pressing one more kiss to your head before he sighs and relaxes. 

“i’m not tired,” you protest weakly. 

“no, you’re not,” he agrees to satisfy you, eyeing your drooping eyes knowingly. “i am, though. it’s been a long trip.”

“right,” you nod, humming. “weak.”

he rolls his eyes, though fondly—you barely make out the action through your half lidded eyes as you glance at him one last look before your eyes force themselves shut. he’s warm, smells like that spicy hint of harra fruit in his cologne, and feels painfully safe when he lets you curl into his strong arm as it wraps around you. 

normal people don’t cuddle when they’re just fucking like this—you and alhaitham are anything but normal. it’s a mutual sort of agreement, though. you allow the small domestic tendencies to slip past the line, only to let the shore wash it away from the sand. 

it never stays for long, this feeling of intimacy. real intimacy, the kind that’s far more personal than seeing each other nude and feeling each other at your rawest. the kind where you both fall asleep beside each other, tangled, safe, warm, trusted. 

but you’re just friends. you think. you can’t afford to be anything more—alhaitham isn’t the sort of man to grant you something like that. you’re sure of that. he’s kind, good natured, even. but there’s not one romantically inclined bone in his body—you’ve seen it yourself. 

he’s rejected one too many brave women with her heart on her sleeve. never cruelly, but always definitively. 

sleep doesn’t let you think about it all for too long. you resign yourself to a peaceful slumber beside him, breath slowly evening out as he rubs the small of your back. 

and, when morning comes and you awaken, you don’t think about it for too long then, either. because he’s gone. because, of course, he wouldn’t stay—not when this is physical and nothing more.

you’re not disappointed, you think. you’re aware of the nature of things. and he’s a gentleman, as always, leaving you a note on your bedside. 

i had to file some reports from my expedition. i believe i’ll be needing my cloak back. 

you chuckle, shaking your head. it’s an invitation—bring me my cloak, and we’ll finish what we started. 

it’s how things are with you and alhaitham. you do his laundry with yours, he walks you home and forces you to rest, and sometimes, you happen to partake in some debauchery in the process. there’s nothing wrong with it. 

and even if your toes dance along the edge of the line, they always drag along to draw it sharper in the sand. 

——————————

coming to alhaitham’s house seems like second nature these days. he comes to you at night, and you come to him in the afternoon of your day off—luck would have it that yours happens to coincide with his. you knock three times and he opens as soon as your knuckles pull away from the cool surface of his door. it’s like he expects you, maybe even waits for you. 

you step in and let the door close behind you, grinning when he steps closer and cages you against the tight corner that is his front entrance. 

“i brought over your cloak,” you hold up the cloth, gesturing for him to move so you can put it on him. he looks at you incredulously, like you’re out of your mind. 

“why would i put it on now?” he asks in confusion. 

you tilt your head, raising an eyebrow, “you always wear one?”

“and why would i dress when we’ll only be undressing in a short moment?” he quirks his own brow like it’s obvious—which, to be fair, alhaitham is not exactly wrong. but it doesn’t make you any less flustered when he says it. 

“you’re shameless,” you huff, looking away in embarrassment. he chuckles lowly, leaning down and trailing his nose along your collarbone, breathing in your perfume. 

“i think i’m more practical, is all,” he murmurs into your skin. you sigh, goosebumps traveling across your body at the fan of his breath against you. 

“if only people knew how unstiff the akademiya’s scribe can truly be,” you grin, finger tracing the sliver of skin showing from his chest window. “did you know i overheard a few patients discuss how bad you are at conversing?”

“i don’t get paid to partake in small talk,” he says, voice a low vibration as he shivers at your touch. “i have things to finish when i’m on the clock apart from socializing.”

“what, you’re that concerned when you have your lovely pay raise? i’m sure you could afford a few minutes,” you tease, making him roll his eyes. 

alhaitham certainly won’t admit it, but he finds a good amount of amusement from your quips—the small grin on his usually downturned lips tells you as much. 

“if you want me to spend my earnings on you, there are better ways to ask,” he shoots light-heartedly. 

“you’d accuse me of such shallow schemes?” you pout. “do you think me to be after your mora?”

his answer is instantaneous, coming in the form of a delicate kiss pressed to your lips as his hands grab your hips. your arms have a habit of their own, always wrapping around his neck before you can even comprehend the action, and just like always, you both end up a tangled pile of limbs that can’t even make it past the doorway, let alone the rest of the house. 

you like it this way, perhaps even love it. something about him being unable to wait the time it takes to walk to his room fills you up with a sense of glee. 

“being the scribe is a much simpler job than sage,” he mumbles between kisses, “there happens to be much more time for other things.”

“things like taking the head nurse against the door of your home?” 

“perhaps,” he smiles with a chuckle. 

who would’ve thought alhaitham could smile so painfully charming? just a few weeks ago, you had never seen him smile before at all, willing to bet that he’d never smiled a day after stepping into adulthood with that seriousness he holds so dearly. 

“i don’t have much time,” you hum in between kisses, fingers fiddling with the short hair at the nape of his neck. 

“we’ll make do, i’m sure,” he says through a breathy groan, already semi-hard as your thigh slots between his legs, rubbing against the forming tent in his pants. 

your head tilts up as his head buries into your neck, lips branding searing kisses into your skin. you wonder if this is what it feels like to be his, to be stamped with his affections one kiss at a time until no one else could hope to have you. your eyes flutter shut, sighing as he sucks attentively to your sweet spot. 

“don’t leave marks,” you scold, “i can’t show up to the bimarstan looking so scandalous.”

you’ve felt his lips against your skin enough times that you can tell them by heart. you don’t have to look to know they’re pouting against your neck—you can feel it against your skin. you giggle, cupping the back of his head as your fingers delicately thread through his hair. 

“i’m meant to hold back then?” he grumbles. it’s almost petulant, but he still softens the nipping against your skin, careful to leave no evidence of his existence against you, however disgruntled he might be. 

“don’t be so whiny,” you laugh. archons must have it out for you, though, because as soon as you say that, his hardened cock brushes against your crotch, making you whine at the friction. it’s something, but it’s hardly anything at all—the separation from the fabric makes everything not nearly enough. 

he seems to know it, too, because he pulls away, eyeing you with a certain gleam in his eyes that looks like a cross between smug and amused. 

“i’ll try,” he says smugly. you glare, but you’re cut off by the brush of his cock against that sensitive spot between your thighs once more, his hips grinding against you as you fall slack against the door. you can feel him rub against your clit, sending shockwaves along your spine as your back arches and you breathlessly moan his name. 

at first, he only does it to tease you, but after the first few rolls of his hips, it’s evident he can’t bring himself to stop. it’s not enough, not for either of you. the ache settling between your legs can’t be quelled with a few simple rolls of his hips with fabric separating you both from each other. but alhaitham’s sense of control seems to wash away with the tidal waves of pleasure, each thrust of his hips brushing his cock against your heat and leaving him panting into your shoulder. 

“m-more,” you plead, grabbing at his cape and fisting the material as you hold onto him tightly, “i need more—please.”

alhaitham, for all his composure and self-preservation, is simple to take apart when his throbbing cock is pressed against your cunt, rubbing against the length and building the pressure he so desperately needs. 

he doesn’t even seem to hear you, hot breath fanning against the crook of your neck as he buries his head and groans, hips sloppy and rough as they rut into you. you can feel the outline of his cock clearly even through his pants and yours, hot and undoubtedly hard. the bulge in his pants brushes against your clit through yours—and even if it’s nowhere close to feeling him inside of you, you can feel yourself just about to break. 

“sorry,” he gasps, “sorry—c-can’t stop. i-i’m c-close. so close.”

the last part comes out like a plead. it’s like he’s begging you to free him of this torment, like he needs you to make him fall over the edge because he can’t bring himself there. you think that might be the case, so you wrap your fingers around his hair and tug. 

he moans—maybe if you were feeling teasing, you’d call it a whine and watch his cheeks flush as he scowls. but there’s no chance for that. not when you’re both so close, so achingly close that you can just make out the twitch of his cock in his pants. 

and then the doorknob twists. 

a series of muffled curses can be heard through the other side of the door, and you both pause—rigid, tense, stiffly alert as your eyes widen. his head perks up from its place in your neck, staring at the doorknob in equal parts rage and equal parts confusion, like he blames it for cutting you both short of a much-needed, much-wanted orgasm. 

“oh, you’ve got to be kidding me!” you hear a voice groan exasperatedly through the door, “again?”

you’re completely lost. who could be trying to enter alhaitham’s house at this hour? 

the only hope you have for answers is, of course, alhaitham—one look at the recognition and irritation on his face, and you can piece together that it’s certainly no stranger. alhaitham, if his cold glare could freeze anything where it stands, could potentially risk turning sumeru into the next snezhnaya. his eyes are hardened, and his jaw is clenched as he breathes out a heavy sigh through his nose. 

“and you’re kidding me,” he mutters bitterly. “now?” 

“hey! i know you’re home! open this door and stop pretending like you can’t hear me,” the voice demands, tapping on the door with more conviction than the last time. 

you furrow your eyebrows and look at him expectantly; an explanation demanded through the crinkles of your forehead as you look at him in confusion. he pulls away, jaw still tight as he adjusts himself in his pants, trying his best to hide the still painful erection he sports. 

“my roommate,” he says quietly. deadly. 

you almost feel bad for the poor soul that must be waiting on the other side of the door, unaware of the pure wrath he must be about to face judging by the look on alhaitham’s face. 

you hear the voice again, “ugh! you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? you—”

“calm down,” alhaitham calls, unimpressed and unamused as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. he seems to hold it for a moment like he’s fighting the tension in his body, before he slumps and lets out another sigh. this time, it’s much more defeated as he gives you an apologetic look when his eyes open. 

you both adjust your appearances, erasing any trace of debauchery before you step aside and let him approach the door. 

the swing of the door opening is a rather aggressive one, and alhaitham stands taller and straighter than you’ve ever seen him, like he’s trying to tower over the figure that enters the house. 

you recognize him immediately. 

“oh!” you gasp in awe, “you’re that architect! the one who designed the palace of alcazarzaray!”

both men look equally as haunted by your statement. alhaitham’s eye all but twitches as he takes in the breathless admiration in your voice—you’re no doubt praising kaveh’s work. as for the latter…well, he looks like he might just about launch himself into the blade of an eremite willingly the first chance he gets. 

“wh-who are you?” kaveh demands, “and what are you doing here?”

“she’s obviously a guest of mine,” alhaitham shoots coolly, tone as condescending as ever. “have you lost all manners? that’s no way to greet a guest.”

“what did you say to me? i want to hear nothing of the sort from you—god knows your temper isn’t one to speak on my manners.” 

kaveh turns to you, taking one better look at you, squinting as he thinks for a moment before realization flashes across his features. he seems to recognize you—though most people in sumeru do know you quite well. the nurses at the bimarstan are limited, these days. 

“ah! you’re the head nurse from the bimarstan! you looked at my wrist,” he recalls. 

you smile, nodding as you gesture at his hand and ask kindly, “is it better now? i do hope it’s not as sore anymore. did you apply heat as i suggested? and i hope you’re taking ample rest in between sketches—architects are very prone to sore wrists as is, you know.”

alhaitham rolls his eyes at your lecture, grumbling, “as if he would follow anyone’s advice. he’s far too stubborn.”

“i’ll have you know that i followed her advice quite closely,” kaveh says pointedly. he turns to you, voice much softer as he smiles and adds, “and my wrist is much better, thank you.”

“of course,” you nod. and then you pause, staring between the two unsurely as you falter and ask, “but…i wasn’t aware you two were friends. alhaitham tells me you’re his roommate—he’s never mentioned you before today, though.”

they both glare at each other through the corners of their eyes. something tells you maybe friends was a bit of an exaggerated term. alhaitham makes no moves to speak, crossing his arms and staring expectantly at kaveh—the blonde scoffs, shaking his head with a scowl. 

“friends…is a generous word. we’re roommates,” he nods in confirmation, “i’ve…ran into some trouble for the time being, so i’m staying here for a bit. won’t be much long, however. i need a space less…suffocating.”

“and how well is that plan faring for you?” alhaitham’s words seem to poke at kaveh, riling the blonde up further as you watch the scene before you awkwardly. 

“you—” but before kaveh can finish whatever retaliation was on the cusp of his tongue, he pauses. it’s like all at once, the situation hits him before he’s staring between the two of you, instead. “hang on a moment. how do the both of you know each other? i didn’t know alhaitham was acquainted enough with the head nurse for her to pay a visit.”

“well,” you start, trailing off as you cough lightly, tensing as the question throws you off guard. “umm…alhaitham visits the bimarstan sometimes after his trips to the desert. so…”

so what? how would that explain your visit to his home? it’s not as though you become friendly with all your patients and drop them a visit—in fact, alhaitham is the only one you’ve ever done that for. and of course, it’s not just a visit that you’re doing here. but kaveh doesn’t need to know that. 

that would be quite the scandal—getting so intimate with a regular patient. and apart from that, you and alhaitham aren’t exactly in an ideal situation. what would you tell kaveh? that you come over just to hook up? it’s not exactly a rare occurrence to have a beneficial relationship with someone like this, but still…admitting it like that is a bit too shameless for your liking. 

and then there’s a much more complicated, much less easy-to-tackle problem, too. you’re not even sure if you can confidently say you don’t have feelings for the scribe. that’s not something you were counting on, ever. saying you only partake in intimate activities with no strings attached might just hit you too hard in the gut, even if it’s not exactly a lie. but admitting the words out loud isn’t something you’re prepared to do. 

almost like he senses your turmoil, alhaitham steps in, bless his soul. he almost looks a bit conflicted, studying you carefully. you don’t have time to dwell on it, though, before he speaks. 

“so she came to check on a wound she patched up,” he finishes for you, quick and easy and confident enough in his words that it makes up for your nerves. he quicks a fleeting glance at you before raising an eyebrow to kaveh. “i left in a hurry and didn’t really let her properly tend to it last time. not that it’s your business, of course. i’m perfectly within my rights to bring guests over to my house.”

“be careful,” kaveh glowers, “anymore attitude, and you’ll risk showing your guests your true colors if you’re not cautious. you wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on the same person who tends to your wounds, do you? that would be fatal.”

“you two are quite the duo,” you chuckle, shaking your head, “it seems alhaitham has finally met his match verbally. you truly don’t let him have the last say.”

alhaitham almost looks offended, looking at you in disbelief. “i am not outmatched by his—”

“if it’s not too much trouble,” kaveh laughs nervously, cutting alhaitham off with a sharp look, “could you keep this…uh arrangement of ours a secret? i don’t really want this getting around and such.”

“my lips are sealed,” you promise. kaveh perks up, relief sagging into his shoulders at that before he nods, giving you a friendly smile as he waves at you. 

“i’ll be off to finish a project, then. nice seeing you.”

as soon as he walks away and you’re certain the door to his room shuts, you let out a soft breath of relief. 

“that was close,” you whisper, “he could’ve figured it out.”

“right,” alhaitham says vaguely. he doesn’t say much else, arms still crossed as he stands there and looks at you—something about the way alhaitham stares at you is too uncomfortable for your liking. 

not because he looks at you weirdly or even inappropriately, but because it almost feels like he can pick apart every thought in your head just by his gaze alone. 

you shuffle on your feet before you give him a tight smile. 

“i should go—the patients are never-ending these days,” you chuckle nervously. 

“make sure you don’t overwork yourself,” he nods. 

you linger for a moment. you’re not sure why. it’s not as though you can expect him to give you a goodbye kiss—that would be preposterous. and far too wishful. 

so instead, you give him a small wave before turning towards the door—but he stops you before you can reach for the door handle, pulling you flush against him, your back to his chest. 

“will you come back tonight?” he whispers, voice low and husky as he presses his still-hard crotch against you. you shiver as he nips at your skin to get his point across. 

“what about kaveh?” you ask softly, biting your lip, unsure. the little voice in your head screams, who cares about kaveh?

“he’ll be dead asleep,” he snorts, “last night was the third all-nighter he pulled. there’s no chance he’ll make it past seven pm today.”

“you’re insatiable,” you tease, shaking your head as you snort. “do you know that?”

“i’ve never had a decline on your end,” he shoots back. 

“i have a shift later tonight,” you say apologetically, sighing as you think about the extra hours you’ll have to put in soon, “there aren’t enough people tonight without me.”

“you should really speak to someone about this funding cut,” he frowns, slumping against you, “it’s getting out of hand.” 

“no one listens.” your voice is so defeated, so uncharacteristically tired. you’re sure he notices it in a heartbeat—you notice it yourself. “but i’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“sure,” is all he says. 

hesitantly, you pull away. his hands leave your hips reluctantly, too, like they’re most comfortable when they have you to house them. but neither of you say anything, simply nodding at each other as you look at him over your shoulder and exit through the door. 

the footsteps down his steps and away from his home are the heaviest ones you’ve taken all week. 

you decide you hate the sand. and that stupid line you both seem to have drawn.

——————————

it takes two failed attempts at fucking alhaitham to realize you’re not strictly only after the physical pleasure he brings. 

the first time, you weren’t even disappointed you didn’t get that far. it was only a disappointment that he was gone when you woke, and you realize it’s because the absence of him is why you’re even let down in the first place. the second time, you’re unhappy because you have to keep the nature of your relationship a secret—that’s a more complex problem. 

it’s secret because it has to be, because of how lewd it is by nature and how partially unprofessional it is. but you decide you also hate it to be a secret. no one knows that you see alhaitham bare and at his most vulnerable, and you can’t handle that anymore. especially when you watch a nurse flirt so poorly with him right before your eyes. 

“oh, it’s you, acting grand sage,” she giggles, “what can i do for you today?”

“i’ve actually returned to my previous position as scribe,” he corrects, entirely unaffected. 

“oh, is that so?” she gasps—you know it’s all for show. everyone is aware of his stepping down. “well, i, for one, think it’s a shame. you were so capable as a leader.”

alhaitham doesn’t like leading. for all he claims it’s because it’s too much trouble and far more work than he appreciates, you know that it’s also because the easiest way to never be swayed by power is to stay far away from it. he keeps himself grounded this way. he uses his smarts for only what’s necessary and only enough to quell his thirst for knowledge and never anything more. his principles are admirable.

and should the next grand sage also abuse such power like the last, he’ll step up from his humble position as scribe and fix the problem again—because that’s what he knows to do best. use his genius to solve issues as they arise, not control the situation entirely. 

of course, she wouldn’t know that. she doesn’t know anything about him. 

you fight back the roll of your eyes with the last shreds of self-preservation you have left. 

“the position wasn’t really for me,” he says plainly. “any idea where the head nurse might be? i have some business to discuss with her.”

it shouldn’t satisfy you as much as it does when she deflates at at his dismissal. but does—enough that you saunter up with a grin on your lips as you greet the two. 

“why hello. what business does the scribe have with little old me?” you hum. the nurse becomes background noise when your eyes meet his teal ones, staring at the small fleck of amber in his pupils while his piercing gaze rakes over your face as if to study you. 

you feel oddly seen under his stare—he’s seen you stripped and bare, at your most vulnerable under him. but somehow, you’ve never thought about it much in the moment like now. right now, he sees you with a clear mind, without the clouding haze of lust to fog his mind. right now, he can see you for every flaw and every imperfection, so up close. he can notice the way your fingers fiddle with themselves to calm your nerves. he can catch every nervous shuffle on your heels as you fight the urge to lean into him from the proximity. 

finally, you break out of your trance when the nurse clears her throat and mumbles, “i’ll uh..i’ll be off, then.”

he blinks at the same time as you, shaking his head slightly to bring himself back to the present as he clears his throat.

“can we speak somewhere more private?” he asks quietly. you don’t know if that’s a good thing or bad. but you nod nonetheless, leading him to an empty room as he follows. 

it’s a long, painstakingly dreadful walk. your mind is filled with too many possible scenarios that it’s a miracle your brain is even functioning properly. it should short circuit. what if he wants to end your arrangement? what if he’s aware of your slowly shifting feelings (if you can even call them that)? what if he’s found someone he’s interested in? what if his roommate has pieced together something, and now he needs to come up with a cover? 

the possibilities are endless, and they plague your mind so heavily that your lip is chewed raw by the time you enter the room and shut it behind him as he follows you in. 

“you wanted to talk?” you ask hesitantly. 

he doesn’t say anything—the only thing he does is press a folded piece of paper in your hands as you stare at him, confused. 

“open it,” he insists.

so you do. and reading over it makes you pause as you glance up at him in disbelief. the bimarstan funding—more than doubled. 

“what?” you breathe, in absolute awe, “how…how is this possible?”

“i’ve pulled a few strings,” he says plainly, shrugging. as always, he brushes off his actions as though he hasn’t just changed your entire job for the better. “it’s a nice perk of being an ex-sage.”

“you’ve used corruption just to help me?” your words are a playful jab—but there’s still an underlying question that you really do mean to ask. why go to such lengths for me? 

“it’s hardly corruption,” he grumbles, crossing his arms. the dust of red over the tips of his ears is the only thing that gives away the slightly flustered part of him, “i had a few favors owed to me, and the conditions here play an important role to everyone in sumeru. it was a simple correction to their terrible decision-making skills.”

“oh, haitham,” you chuckle. this time, the nickname really does make him flush more obviously, his eyes darting away to look off to the side as he clears his throat again. 

“well, that’s all,” he says stiffly, “i have to go home and…and make dinner. kaveh is of no help.”

“sure,” you beam, looking at him knowingly. you pause for a moment, contemplating before you cave and add, “and thank you. really.”

“it’s really nothing to look into,” he says awkwardly, “hopefully, now you can work fewer hours.” 

“the other nurses will also really appreciate it,” you say softly, “i’ll be sure to let them know—they’ll really have the hots for you this time,” you snort, making an indirect reference to earlier. he shivers, like the thought leaves him unnerved. 

“that one nurse of yours hasn’t left me alone since i stepped up as grand sage for that short while,” he grumbles, making you snort at the troubled look on his face. it shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does to see him so disgusted by the affections of someone else, but you’re only human. “doesn’t take a genius to figure out why.”

“oh c’mon, she’s sweet,” you tease. now that you know he’s uninterested, it’s fun to mess with him and get under his skin, giggling as you reach over and poke at his arm. 

“perhaps,” he shrugs, “but not very good at keeping her emotions in check. i’ve known her since my student days—i don’t think i could last one day with her lack of…composure.”

“what, you’re too above emotions?” you ask amused, “i would disagree. you’re a rather grumpy man, you know.”

“am i?” he fights back a grin, “i hardly noticed.”

“without your morning coffee, yes,” you quip. 

he laughs, shaking his head as he stares at you with something that looks oddly close to fondness in his eyes before he murmurs, “i do really need to make dinner. kaveh will truly whine my ear off if i don’t tonight.”

“have fun,” you pinch his cheek. he rolls his eyes, and with that, he nods to you and leaves, swiftly walking away and leaving you to yourself in the empty room with the slip of paper in your hands, a lovesick smile still on your face. 

you don’t even know where the line starts or where it ends anymore. all you know is that you’ve undoubtedly crossed it all on your own—and it might be the end of you, truly.

——————————

it takes one nice gesture from alhaitham to make you realize you’ve fallen hopelessly hard for him. before, every small action of intimacy was always just the two of you being friends, amicable and good-natured in between sex. 

now, you’re not sure you could spend a single minute next to him without wondering what it would feel like to do those things as a couple. 

sometimes, after sex, alhaitham likes to read. because it’s hard for him to sleep, and he doesn’t want to disturb you from your much-needed rest after a long day at the hospital. you don’t realize how reliant you’ve become on the sound of his pages flipping until you lay in bed alone, tossing and turning under your sheets as you try your hardest to sleep.

you can’t. not when all you think about is him. him, him, him. he’s all your mind drifts to nowadays. 

but you know alhaitham—better than a lot of people, in fact, seeing as you get to see parts of him that are otherwise… off-limits. being in a relationship is the last thing he wants, especially with you. otherwise, he’d have told you by now. you’re scared of a lot of things, scared to speak your mind, and tend to overthink too much for your own good. 

but alhaitham? he’s blunt and to the point. if he’d wanted something more with you, if the line had blurred and blurred for him until it risked being nonexistent like it did for you, he’d have said something. but he hasn’t—and neither can you. 

because you know as soon as you do, it’ll be over. the kind gestures, the gentle touches, the heated kisses, the nightly visits, all of it. gone with the wind as it blows the line in the sand away for good—not because he wants to cross it, but because it simply doesn’t need to exist anymore if he never speaks to you again. 

 alhaitham is not a romantically inclined guy. he’s good-looking enough that not just a handful of girls have tried their hand at confessing to him, and he’s always turned them down instantly. you’ve seen it, heard about it, know it to be true. and apart from that, are you both even that compatible?

sure, you get along great as is, but a relationship is much deeper than that. you’ve always appreciated how honest he was, how straightforward he put things. but relationships come with a lot more vulnerability and emotions than you’ve ever shown him. his bluntness will be too easy to mistake for casual cruelty when you’re in over your head. he’s quiet; he doesn’t appreciate too much interaction—would he even enjoy going on dates? what if you insisted on an evening out, and all he wanted to do was stay in and read? would he want to do all that stuff? everything you want seems like it would be something of a chore for him, something that makes him see you as a chore. 

he even said it himself the other day, calling that nurse too emotional for his liking. sure, it was an off-handed comment, but you’re one emotional day away from potentially being too much for him too. you couldn’t handle that. not when you like him so, so much. not when you want him so bad, you couldn’t handle him not wanting you just as badly. 

would he even want you that badly? logic tells you no—and logic is at the forefront of his mind at all times. your emotionally charged outlook on life would be a bleeding mess of color in his neutral, logically categorized approach. 

you’d be dooming yourself to loving a man who would hardly know what to do with your affections. 

so you do the only sound solution to this predicament of yours—you end things before he can do it himself. it’s inevitable, of course. whether it’s in a few weeks or months, eventually, alhaitham will grow bored of your casual fling. and he’ll end things, completely fine and normal while you fall apart at the seams. the best thing you can do for yourself is let things end on your own terms, and early on, too, before the feelings fester into something all too serious. 

it’s not as though you love him yet—things are still early on enough to make sense of them. 

or is it? some part of your mind asks viciously, are you sure you don’t love him? 

you push away the thought as quickly as it pops into your head. rolling your shoulders back, you straighten your posture, taking a deep breath before you knock on his door. 

he opens it instantly, smiling that small, ghost of a smile of his. you falter immediately. 

“hey,” he hums, swinging his door wider, “come in.”

“no, that’s okay,” you say stiffly, not meeting his eyes, “i…can’t today.”

“oh.” you hate that you can hear the frown in his voice and practically see the confused crinkle of his eyebrows. “did you want to talk about something, then?”

yes, you want to say. there’s a lot i want to talk about. 

there’s a lot you should talk about—and if you were keen on discussing this like an adult, you would lay it all out on the table. 

instead, you blurt out, “i think we should stop.”

he eyes you carefully, raising a questioning brow as he asks, “stop what?”

“this,” you point between the two of you, “whatever…whatever this is we’re doing.”

and just as you expected, his face is blank, so neutral and so hard to read you want to scream at him. yell at him for making you want him so bad when you can’t even tell if he’s even a fraction as crazy as you. does he want you? he certainly treats you well sometimes, but maybe that’s just because you get his dick wet and stitch up a few wounds here and there for him. does he actually even toss and turn and stay up thinking about you the way you think about him? 

the answer is probably no. you don’t even want to find out if you’re right or not. but he’s never made you believe he has, so you don’t entirely think you’re wrong in your assumptions. 

“and what are we doing?” he must be playing dumb, you think. 

“hooking up,” you hiss, “having sex. fucking. whatever you want to call it, alhaitham. we have to end it. now.”

“and what brought this on?” he crosses his arms. 

you want to ask him why he’s being so cruel, so intent on keeping you when you clearly can’t stay, when there are so many women who would throw themselves at him for a chance to get in bed with him if a physical partner is what he’s so hellbent on keeping. but you can’t be that for him any longer, not when your emotions are tired of being a jumbled mess that slowly but surely eat away at your decaying soul. 

“we…we’re just…it’s not—we just have to, okay? i don’t appreciate you treating me like i’m easy.”

“wha—when have i ever treated you as such?” he looks at you bewildered, getting defensive. 

“that’s not what i meant,” you pinch your nose, groaning as you try to process the words you want to say in your spinning head. everything is too much—the way he’s close, the way your body feels aflame from just standing near him, the way your eyes are involuntarily misting over. “this…this is just an easy arrangement, that’s all. for both of us. but i don’t want to be someone’s quick and easy hook-up for the sake of convenience. i need…i need something more from someone, so we should stop while we can so i can find myself that.”

there’s a minimal twitch of his jaw as he clenches and unclenches it, nodding slowly.

“you want something more, is that it?”

“w-well, yes—but that’s not what i entirely meant, so don’t read into it—”

“so how would ending this get you that, then?” he challenges. you hate that he makes you feel stupid, that he looks at you like you’re not thinking when that’s all you’ve been doing these last few…archons know how long. he’s plagued your mind for so much time you can’t even pinpoint for how long. 

“i want something more, but not from you,” you spit, slamming your hands to slap against your thighs in frustration, “that’s obviously why i’m ending it! must you always make everything difficult?”

he doesn’t speak, silently stunned a bit at your outburst. so you take a deep breath, willing yourself to calm down before you collect your thoughts better. 

“i just…i’m sorry, okay? i didn’t mean to yell at you like this is your fault. i…i can’t say i can get into bed with you anymore without wanting us to actually mean something to each other, and i know that’s not what you want—”

“who said that’s not what i want?” he interrupts, looking at you with the first hints of emotions all day. there’s a small etch of frustration building in the twitch of his brows as he continues, “you’ve just decided for me how i feel, and that’s a bit unfair, don’t you think?”

“you’ve never said anything about how you feel,” you shoot back.

“well, neither have you, but that doesn’t mean—”

“i may not have said it, but you’re telling me you never noticed? i do your laundry for you, for crying out loud, alhaitham! and you’ve never so much as dropped a hint!”

“i see,” he nods slowly, going back to the blank slate that is his face. still so infuriatingly neutral and unbothered by it all that you can’t help but lose it a little. 

how can he be so unbothered? how can he be so calm and collected when you feel like you might need to check yourself into the bimarstan yourself from the stress of it all? you’ve spent weeks, months in each other’s beds. familiarized yourselves with every part of each other’s bodies. he knows about that birthmark no one else sees, and you trace that mole on his left pec every night before you sleep. you’ve slowly but surely been dying to cross the threshold of just friends (with a few perks, of course), and here he is, nodding along as you tell him you want him, want more of him.

and he’s got nothing to say. because, for some reason, after months of feeling you, spending nights and days tucked away against you, he doesn’t seem to feel the same, so he doesn’t have much to offer you. how can he be so unbothered by your presence after months with you? is it really that easy not to be affected by you? 

some part of you lets go of the hold on your control as you snap, “and this is why we can’t have anything more.”

“why’s that?” he tilts his head, voice an uncharacteristic edge to it, “enlighten me.”

“because…because…because you’re you!”

finally, a flash of hurt crosses his face, making itself home in his eyes and forehead as it crinkles at your words. he studies you, quiet. unnervingly quiet that you almost wonder if you’re just deaf.

“are you trying to say there’s something wrong with me?” he presses, looking so lost that you almost feel guilty. 

not as much as you feel like you’re about to cry, though.

“yes,” you say without thinking—and the way hurt settles into his eyes more makes you scramble to reword things so you don’t sound like a total jerk, “i mean no! i mean…i mean you’re just you, and you and i won’t mix.”

“we won’t mix,” he repeats, blinking. “interesting—”

you can’t stop yourself from going on the tangent now that you’ve begun, spilling your every thought one by one as you cut him off, “you’re so quiet, and it’s unnerving, you know? you never speak a single thought on your mind, you’d rather just read than talk about your day. and everything you say is so painfully to the point—would it kill you to soften the blow sometimes? people don’t always need the cold, hard truth, okay? sometimes, saying what someone wants to hear can make all the difference. and…and…i don’t know, okay? i need someone who can work with my emotions without applying logic to everything, and that’s not you so…so we have to end things because it’s not fair to either of us. i want it to actually mean something with someone when i’m with them, and you don’t want someone to taint everything with their fragile feelings, so we need to go our separate ways. okay?”

you’re practically panting when you’re done speaking, and alhaitham is just standing, thinking, processing everything you’ve said in that painfully complex head of his. 

finally, he breaks the silence and says, “i didn’t know so many things about me bothered you.”

“they didn’t,” you sigh, “not until recently. i guess…i guess it just hit me how difficult it would be to get along in a proper relationship.”

“you know that because what? you think it?”

“i know it because i’m actually looking at things realistically,” you say exasperatedly, “just because we had sex for a few months doesn’t automatically mean we’re a compatible pair.”

“we haven’t really gotten to know much outside of sex to decide that,” he shakes his head, “i’m not understanding how you can so easily dismiss these feelings by deciding it won’t work—”

“look, alhaitham,” you cut him off, voice so uncharacteristically small, he pauses to look at you in shock, “i’ve been slowly losing it for weeks, okay? the last thing i need is for you to make things difficult for me. you’re a good guy, and i really, really wish things were different, but i just need more than what you can give me without completely changing yourself. neither of us should have to compromise anything about ourselves for things to work.”

“you don’t know if i’d be willing to give you what you need or not,” he says quietly, “maybe i wouldn’t be changing a thing.”

“then what about that girl?” you scoff, “the one you said was too emotional for you to handle? you think i’m just being crazy? you said it yourself, so what else should i believe?”

“her? she’s different—”

“why? because she’s not me? because she doesn’t let you in her bed? you’ll find my emotions just as burdensome as hers one day, and then what? we fall back on sex to keep the spark alive?”

something about him is defeated. shoulders slumped, eyes dim, and arms uncrossing to lay limply at his sides. he takes a deep breath before nodding, looking at you so intensely you almost feel frozen in place. 

“okay,” he whispers, “if this is what you want. that’s fine.”

his door closes, and your first tear slips. 

——————————

nine days. that’s how long it’s been without alhaitham. your mind tells you this is for the best, but your heart is practically on its knees, begging you to reconsider. 

a part of you wonders if you were being unfair like he said, judging him before you could properly give him a chance. the other part of you thinks it’s important not to let attachment cloud your better judgment. alhaitham is a good man; there’s no doubt about it. 

but is he a man good for you? that part is a difficult question to answer. protecting your heart seems like the safest option. still, you can’t help but miss him horrifically often. it doesn’t hit you how badly you’ve fallen for him until you don’t see him anymore. no more late nights at your place, no more afternoons at his, and no more routine bimarstan visits. 

your life has at least gotten a bit easier, though—more funding means more people to hire, and more people to hire means fewer grueling hours for you. though, when you really think about it, you owe this small win to the exact man who’s been plaguing your thoughts. 

you intend to drink your woes away, but it seems even in the tavern, you can’t escape him—well, not exactly him, but his roommate. but kaveh still reminds you of alhaitham, so the cleared head you hoped for is out of the question for the night.

the thing about kaveh, though, is that he’s loud. painfully so, and especially when he’s drunk. you could hear him from the other end of teyvat, you think—it’s hard to ignore him even if you want to. 

“he’s been insufferable lately,” kaveh huffs, “worse than usual. that awful temper of his needs to really get a check because i’m not sure how much more i can take.”

you didn’t know kaveh was friends with the general mahamatra—seeing cyno loosened up with a deck of tcg cards was not on your list of expectations for the night, but you can’t help but listen in when he adds, “his last few reports to me from his investigations were not up to his…usual work ethic, either. i’m not sure what’s up with him.”

“maybe he’s overworked,” tighnari suggests—you know him as a fellow amurta scholar, recognizing him from your student days. you hadn’t realized alhaitham was friends with such an interesting assortment of people—well, you don’t know if kaveh fits as a friend, but the other two seem like safe bets. 

“i don’t think so,” kaveh grumbles, “he’s hardly been sleeping. it’s not like he takes work home with him, you think he’d be the type? but he’s been drinking all the coffee—i actually work into the night. shouldn’t he at least leave some for me?”

“i wonder what’s up with him,” cyno hums thoughtfully, “he must really be brewing in his emotions.”

you snort at the poor pun, watching as the other two around him wince and groan. 

finally, kaveh sighs, rubbing his temple as he mumbles, “i don’t know. i’ve never seen him like this. i think it’s serious.”

that makes guilt pool in your gut, making you feel so full that even one sip of your drink feels like too much. you’ve lost all desire to drink your sorrows away—you couldn’t have possibly dampened someone like alhaitham so deeply, could you? he’s always been unaffected by things more than others, and you’d never imagined him to care that deeply about your relationship. if you could call it that, even. 

“what do you suppose has brought this on then?” tighnari’s ears twitch in worry, “he’s…not exactly the most emotionally available.”

well, at least you’re not alone in your beliefs. 

“i don’t know,” kaveh says quietly—and even if they claim not to be friends, you don’t think they hate each other a fraction as much as they let on because his voice seems to be twinged with clear worry himself as he adds, “his eyes have been red in the mornings. it can’t be something small.”

that’s all you can stomach to hear before you slam your glass down and swiftly make a beeline for the tavern’s exit. some part of you, weak and bound to alhaitham, is unable to listen any longer about his misery. the misery you caused. the misery you brought yourselves both because insecurities ebbed and flowed into the deepest crevices of your mind and rotted away at the reasonable parts. 

of course, you’re different. of course, there’s a chance things will go sour. of course, it won’t be easy. but isn’t that the case for every relationship? love was never meant to be a simple feat—otherwise, it would never be half as scary to take the fall. 

but you’ve been careful, too careful. so careful that you forgot to let yourself try and be happy, and so careful that you’ve stomped on someone’s feelings enough that his friends exchange their worries over drinks instead of having a good time with him. 

so you decide that enough is enough. if alhaitham isn’t meant to be yours, then celestia themselves will have to take him from you—because you’re not risking losing him a second time. 

not again.

——————————

contrary to popular belief, alhaitham has never been difficult to track down if you simply know where to look. he might be good at making himself scarce, but there’s only a handful of places he could be. the light of his home shining through the window tells you that your first guess is not very off.

you knock, silently staring at the tips of your shoes as he slowly opens the door.

“hey,” you murmur as soon as the door swings open. you haven’t even looked up yet, but you’re certain he has the same neutral expression on his face. but kaveh is right about one thing—his eyes are definitely a little red.

“hey,” he says quietly. 

it’s awkward for a moment. you don’t know what to say, and he doesn’t have any intentions to fill the silence. some time ago, that worried you. his quietness came across as an inability to keep up healthy communication. but now, you miss it—the quiet flip of his pages as he sat beside you, shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. the way he let out a soft little breath when you lay on his chest, rubbing his palm slowly in circles against the small of your back. the soft, peaceful silence of his presence. 

you never appreciated it enough, the comfort of knowing you’re valued without having to say anything at all. 

“listen, i—”

“you don’t have to—”

you both stop, pausing when you speak at the same time. 

“go ahead,” you say instantly. 

he clears his throat, shaking his head as he swallows. “no,” he mumbles, ever the gentleman, “no, that’s okay. you go first.”

you think your nerves might just explode one by one if you have to wait any longer, so you don’t bother putting up much more of a fight, nodding before fiddling with your fingers as you take a deep breath. 

the words spill faster than you can process what you’re saying. a long, jumbled string of thoughts that rattle off your tongue like a dam finally breaking at the leaking crack. 

“i was wrong. for all the things i said, i mean. there’s nothing wrong with you, you know? you’re really kind, and you remember the little things, and you always keep your promises, and those are really nice things. and i don’t hate when you’re quiet, by the way. i used to think it bothered me, but i miss it, you know? just having you sit next to me and read and stuff. i guess…i guess i just never bothered trying to think about how to love you the way you needed because i was so busy worrying if you could love me the way i needed and…and i just fucked a lot of things up. i got in my head and made a lot of assumptions that weren’t fair and just…i got cold feet. and i’m sorry. and i love you—really, really love you. all of you. you don’t have to believe me or even say anything at all. i just needed you to know all that because you deserve to.”

he’s silent. you can’t tell whether from being stunned or from disinterest. both are fair, regardless—you think alhaitham could slam the door shut in your face, and you’d deserve it. but he doesn’t. because just as always, he’s your same, kind, gentle alhaitham underneath all of the blunt stoicism. 

“i lied,” you whisper, “i do want you to say something. anything.”

“i don’t know what you want me to say,” he stares at his feet, still looking as hurt as the day you left him. “you…you just assumed i wouldn’t be able to love you, is what i’m gathering.”

“i just thought…” you swallow thickly, tongue like sandpaper against your dry mouth, “i just thought we were too different.”

“i thought we got along well,” he shrugs, trying to pretend there isn’t as much hurt on his features as there is, “maybe i misread things.”

“no,” you shake your head desperately, “no, i overthought them, that’s all.”

“why did you leave me?” he asks hoarsely, “why couldn’t we have talked about things?”

you want to say because you were a coward, maybe even a hypocrite. you insisted he’d be too constipated emotionally to communicate properly with you, but all you’ve done was decide things for him and avoid the hard, heart-to-heart talk.

really, it’s because you were never brave enough to try and love alhaitham the way he would have loved you. the way he loves you. you were blind to see it—weren’t even willing to believe that he ever would. not until after you let him go and realized what you had. he’d walked you home, made sure you got proper rest, pulled strings, and used up favors just to make things better for you. and you missed all the signs, all because it was so easy to walk away, to label his blunt nature as causal cruelty, to confuse his quietness as disinterest, to assume his logic was the absence of emotion. you never gave him a chance because you were never brave enough to take the fall. 

but alhaitham was always ready to catch you, arms aching to wrap around your form and hold you. not because he wanted you to love him, but because all he’s ever wanted was to love you. 

you think that’s the difference between the two of you. you’ve always wanted to be loved, and he’s always wanted to love. you’ve always wanted to take and he’s always wanted to give. you’ve always wanted him to be enough, and he’s always wanted you to know you’re enough and more. 

it’s too much to tell him though, so you settle on cupping his cheeks and whispering, “because you scare me. the way you make me feel.”

“how do i make you feel?”

not too long ago, you’d think he was asking just to confirm what he already knows. now, you know he’s asking because he needs to hear the words for his own sake. just to be sure. just to ease the uncertainty in his own head. 

“you make me feel a lot of things, haitham,” you murmur, “you make me feel happy. appreciated. very pretty. capable. important. sometimes a little dumb,” you giggle as he frowns, squeezing his cheeks as you add, “but only because you’re so smart. i could list a few other things you make me feel, but…they’re not as proper.”

“i thought…just…d-did i do something?” he asks, voice hesitant. there’s a painful, awful squeeze in your heart at his words. but your heart is the last of your worries right now—it’s the least you can do, putting your feelings aside for his own, seeing as you’ve stomped all over his.

so, in an effort to show him that everything is okay, you smile—you’re sure it’s a pathetic, wobbly little thing, but you don’t have time to care. not when he’s right here, under your fingertips, and one possible moment away from slipping away. 

a watery chuckle escapes you as you whisper, “no. you didn’t do anything—it was me. but i’m not running away anymore…if you still want me, that is.” 

“you’re all i want,” he says instantly. “the only thing.”

“i know,” you breathe, “and you are all i want too.”

you kiss him. because he deserves to feel you choose him, to feel you close the gap and show him you’re here. your lips press gently against his, molding into them like two pieces of a puzzle—except you don’t think neither of you fit anywhere else but each other. incomplete without each other and unable to fit anywhere else. your thumb traces the soft, warm skin of his cheek, soothingly caressing it as if to let him know i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere. 

he stumbles back, and you follow him in, pressing against the door of his home just like those days ago before an unwelcomed interruption. this time, though, you think kaveh could freeze outside all you care—you’re not letting anything interrupt this moment. 

“i’ve been losing my mind for weeks too,” he mumbles in between gasps for air as you kiss, “just so you know. it wasn’t you alone.”

“that’s good to know,” you hum, grinning against his mouth. 

“and i thought i was giving signs,” he adds, “that’s why i went through the trouble to fix your schedule. so i could spend more time with you—i…i apologize if i wasn’t obvious with my intentions.”

“don’t be,” you say softly, “i’m the one who missed them. you did everything right.”

“did i?” he asks, unsure. 

you press your lips firmly against his when you hear the crack in his voice, as if sheer touch alone will express the way you feel. maybe it does, though—because he melts against you, letting out a soft moan as your hands travel to his broad chest, feeling the muscled and toned body he hardly hides under that skin-tight shirt. 

“i get scared easily,” you whisper, “will you be patient with me?”

“i’m not good at expressing my emotions,” he whispers back, “will you be patient with me too?”

“we can be patient together,” you hum, pecking his lips a few times as he chuckles softly. 

“good plan,” he nods, “sounds like it should work.”

“oh, thank you,” you wink playfully, pulling away to wrap your arms around his neck and press your forehead to his as you look at him cheekily, “i’m a bit of a genius.”

“that you are,” he nods, smiling in amusement. and he means it. you’re every bit smart and capable as he makes you feel—inadequacy was never something alhaitham made you feel; it was always something you brought onto yourself. you’re used to shifting the blame, you realize. it’s so easy to blame everything and everyone but yourself for the intrusive thoughts in your head. 

but they melt away tonight, one feathered kiss at a time, pressed to your jaw delicately by warm, familiar lips you’d know blind. 

“your friends are worried about you, you know. kaveh—”

“please do not mention kaveh’s name right now,” he groans, “i’ll hear all about your alarming story of my friends at the tavern, but right now, i only want to hear you say one name.”

“yours?” you wiggle your brows. 

“glad to know we’re on the same page,” he confirms, humming as your hands trail under his shirt, feeling the ridges of his built muscles. 

“i don’t want anymore casual sex,” you murmur, pouting, “it’s driving me mad.”

“okay,” he nods, shivering as your palms glide over his nipples as you pull his shirt up, exposing his chiseled abdomen for you to admire, “will girlfriend suffice?”

“girlfriend would be great,” you nod, beaming. 

“just so you’re aware, i am very concerned with the emotions of my girlfriend, however heavy they might be. i do still think, however, that nurse was on a…unique realm of her own, though,” he adds the last part with a pointed look.

“don’t mention other women when you just asked me to be your girlfriend,” you huff, “don’t forget who stitches you up. don’t get on my bad side.”

“my apologies,” he laughs. 

and then you’re back to kissing him, fervently and so desperately, you think this might be your last day on earth, making the most of it before you’ve breathed your last breath. alhaitham groans into your mouth, lets your hands wander all over him as you feel the tautness of his physique. 

it’s not the first time you’ve felt him, but it is the first time you can take all the time you want, memorizing him because he’s yours to keep locked away in your memory. 

“i love you,” you pant against his mouth, wet, hot kisses interrupting your sweet confession. 

“i,” he kisses your cheek, “love,” a kiss to your other cheek, “you,” a kiss to your nose, “too.”

this time, he leans down and kisses you right over your pulse point, right where your racing heart rate is beating erratically. you gasp when he bites and sucks at the flesh, making you whimper as your knees buckle. 

“how much?” you ask, pleading to know.

“enough to lose sleep,” he murmurs, “because my dreams were plagued with you. i couldn’t escape you in waking hours or in slumber. that’s how much you torment me. take over my body and mind. is that what you needed to hear?”

he’s a linguist—sometimes you forget that. perhaps he’s not so bad at saying what you need to hear, after all.

“maybe,” you hum, kissing his cheek, nibbling affectionately at the soft flesh, “you like me that much? how cute.”

“i’ll like you a lot more if you stop teasing,” he grunts, pressing his hot, searing erection against your thigh as your thumbs toy away at his nipples. you gasp when you feel him prod at you, feeling the heat even through the fabric that separates you. 

neither of you are patient enough to do this properly right now—but you have plenty of time for that. plenty of time to take it slow, explore each other, and map your bodies in ways you never dared to before. scared to cross that stupid, useless imaginary line you drew for no reason at all. you decide from here on out there are no more lines—just endless sand, your footprints next to his as you trek the path of lovers. 

you rub at his hardened cock through his pants, making him grunt before he grabs your hands and pins them over your head. 

“i said love you,” he says intensely, eyeing you with a carnal hunger you’ve never seen in him before, “but i didn’t say i’d be patient tonight.”

with that, his free hand tugs down both of your pants—his just enough to free his aching cock, and yours enough to expose your leaking cunt as he teases your clit with the blunt tip of his length. you whimper, bucking your hips into him, feeling the beads of precum spread along your heat as he shudders. 

“put it in,” you whine, clutching his shirt with tight fists. 

“you’re…not ready yet,” he insists, teeth grit as he gives his all to hold himself back from taking you just like you plead. 

but you’re stubborn—and alhaitham? he’s too weak to you to fight you when you are, doomed to give into any and every whim of yours.

“don’t care,” you shake your head, “don’t care, don’t care, don’t care. i just want you—please, please, please haitham.”

that’s all it takes for him to crack—slowly, so, so carefully, he nudges past your wet folds, inching his throbbing cock into you as you gasp at the stretch. this isn’t the first time he’s split you open—but it’s never something you get used to. the burning stretch still feels as new as the first time. he groans, low and breathless, as your walls clamp down on him as he slowly but surely intrudes into your cunt. 

“so tight,” he murmurs, voice filled with wonder—like this is the first time he’s ever felt you so raw. maybe it is. he’s never felt you as his, as yours. “does that feel good? do you feel me? what you do to me? and you thought i didn’t feel the same? like i didn’t purposely let blades slice my skin just for an excuse to come find you? feel your touch, watch you worry? just for a moment of your attention? surely, you can’t be so blind.”

his words make your head spin, making you throw it back as a soft escapes you when the last bit of his length slips in, filling you full and to the brim as he nudges at the most sensitive spots inside of you. he’s so deep; you think your lungs are filled with him, like every breath you take is filled with him, him, him. 

“yes,” you say through a shaky voice, “yes—so good, you feel so good. i want you, haitham. all of you.”

“you have all of me,” he kisses the words into your neck, “that’s not enough? you want more?”

“yes,” you plead, “more!”

he chuckles, smooth and low and so pretty, you feel an ache in your clit from the sound alone. “well, alright then. more it is—i could never dream of denying such a sweet wish.”

finally, he rolls his hips, all but pulling out completely before pressing back into you, dragging along every ridge of you, nudging his thick tip against the spongey, sensitive at the back of your walls. you’re slack against his door, held up by him and him alone as your body betrays you, unable to keep balance as he fucks into you the way he does. 

it’s been nine days without you. the way his hips snap so desperately into you, you’d think he’s a man thirsty, gone a year without rain in the deepest, more treacherous ruins in the desert. all you can do is cling to him, repeat the same mantra of haitham, haitham, haitham—more, please haitham.

he knows your body well. so, so well, he knows exactly how to toy with your clit, thumb finding the sensitive nub, enough pressure to make you whine with a jolt, but not enough to let you fall over the edge just yet—not until he allows it.

“i love you,” he punctuates with a roll of his hips, “repeat that. so i know you believe it. so i know you believe me.”

“p-please,” you gasp, tugging at his hair, “i…i need to c-cum—”

“say it,” he demands. 

“you love me—oh,” you cut yourself off with a sharp breath, his thumb abusing your clit in faster circles. 

“again,” he says firmly.

“you love me,” you whimper, “you…you love me. only me.”

“good,” he nods, groaning as you squeeze around him at the praise, “and don’t forget it. not for a second.”

“l-love you too,” you stutter, voice cracking as he rolls his hips unforgivingly, the friction making your mind fog with pure lust. “love you so, so much.”

that makes him inhale sharply, breath catching in his throat. his head falls to your neck, hot breath fanning against your skin as he moans lowly, hips sloppy and ungraceful in their pace but never failing in precision to angle right into your sweet spot. his thumb rolls circles into your clit, fast and desperate to send you over the edge so he can follow. 

and you do—you fall off the edge so fast, so hard, your nails dig blunt, raw crescent moons into his skin as you arch your back off the door and cry his name. luckily for alhaitham, his house is built conveniently enough that he has no close neighbors. no one to hear such filthy sounds right against the door for them to witness just by passing by. no one should be at this hour—but even if they were, you hardly could bring yourself to care. 

“c-cumming,” you wail, “cumming, haitham.”

“so beautiful,” he kisses the corner of your mouth, voice strained as he chases his own orgasm, “can’t…can’t believe you’re mine. mine.”

it’s like the realization that you’re his is what pushes him past the edge, his cock twitching with hot, thick ropes of cum into your abused cunt and painting the walls white as soon as he repeats the word mine. 

mine, mine, mine—he doesn’t stop repeating it even as he fucks himself into you and works himself through his high. you can feel the wet, messy trail of his cum and your slick leaking down your thighs, so filthy, so lewd, so devastatingly raw. 

“yours,” you confirm tiredly, kissing his head as he pants into your neck, muffled moans pressed against your skin as you soothe him while he falls apart against you. “all yours. not going anywhere, i promise. i promise.”

finally, he slumps against you, panting as he tries to catch his breath, sweaty and tired but never unsatisfied. 

“if you leave me again,” he quietly admits, “i think i’ll go mad.”

“then i won’t,” you say gently, stroking his sweaty locks. 

“i love you,” he reminds you once more, “do you believe me?”

“i do,” you nod, smiling like he’s handed you the sun, “and i love you too. do you believe me?”

“i do,” he hums, wrapping himself around you tighter. 

there’s a jiggle of the doorknob behind you, followed by an incoherent, slurred string of curses. alhaitham deflates against you, looking up at you tiredly. you throw your head back and laugh, gleeful, and so, so in love. 

“i’m tired of him,” he grumbles.

“let him off easy this once,” you brush back his hair, “it’s thanks to him that i came to see you tonight.”

“then i suppose just this once, i won’t leave him out to freeze,” he relents. 

you realize for a moment, alhaitham had never drawn the line in the first place. perhaps it was always just you, making rules in your head when all he ever did was want you from the start. he waited so patiently for you, so you cup his cheeks and pull him closer, giving him one more firm kiss as a reward for all you put him through. he pulls away, dazed as he stares at you with unfocused eyes. 

“i’ll give you another like that if you run me a warm bath,” you say cheekily. 

“do i get to join this bath,” he raises a brow, eyeing you in amusement as his hands rub soothingly into your hips. 

you pretend to think for a moment, mockingly tapping your chin in deep thought before you murmur, “okay, fine. but no funny business.”

“i wouldn’t dream of it—”

“hello?” kaveh’s slurred call interrupts, followed by rough knocking. 

“he can freeze,” alhaitham says bitterly.

“don’t you dare!” you gasp, fighting back a laugh as he looks at you miserably.

well…….what was supposed to be maybe 4-5k words at best has…..gotten quite out of hand LOL. 14k words later i present to you my official love letter to alhaitham. anyway i suppose this fic stems from sometimes wondering if i would be compatible with the characters i enjoy. but the question is not whether or not you’re compatible, but whether or not you’re willing to put in the work to make compatibility. and alhaitham would certainly do that. anyway!!! i hope you enjoyed. i’m not sure if many peiple will read this, but if you do, reblogs and comments are really appreciated! giving you all a hug and reminding you that your favs would 100% want you <3

#writing tag #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut