#al haitam

[itsmumei]

Comfort ship is back

[tottentz]

HE'S COMPLICATED, HE'S IRRATIONAL ── alhaitam ◟1.2k w.c ◟sfw, hurt + comfort.

"so, tell us the secret, why him?" 

alhaitam freezes, hand on the handle halfway to open the door. they're talking about him again.

he doesn't understand many of the words, but he knows the tone. talking more in breath than sound, trying to sound quieter than they really are. the same fake concern they take on the moment they turn away from your table, like you aren't still in the room.

but he doesn't care, except maybe, for you. 

you smile, a little too wide, and tilt your head. uselessly. doesn't matter either way. "him who?," you repeat in a high pitch.

"alhaitam, duh." your coworker has a tendency to talk a little too much when she's lonely and just a little bit tipsy. and given the way that things seem to be going, she's very lonely and probably drinking a little more than she should. and it's your job to be likeable and trustworthy.

"because i love him." you bit out, and you weren't sure whether a smile or a wince tugged at the corner of your mouth, wondering why you were having some sort of revelation.

"but, i mean, why?" she also calmly contradicted, though discussing an entirely different topic than the one you were stuck on, without a tremor in her voice. "'isn't he a little, uh..."

"complicated?" another of your friends ( friends? ) say.

the words are mostly unfamiliar, but alhaitam thinks you know the meaning by the way you grudgingly kick at the tiles under your feet, chewing the inside of your mouth as if musing her previous claim.

"oh" it is all you say, and alhaitam feels the acid crawl up his throat and die in his mouth. then there was anger, mostly directed at himself, hatred so obsessive it seeped into his skin, a punch to his gut of desperation, and last but not least honest, helpless. "is that so?"

alhaitam knows he is not good at expressing his affection.

and then you think of alhaitam draped over the edge of the couch when you walk in, his nose smothered deep in a book. he only notices you when you plop before him and don't say anything; he doesn't have to. he already knows you had a long day when you crawl between his legs and wraps around his waist, clinging, waiting.

 you think of alhaitam reading aloud then. even if he doesn't know what's going on half the time, he lets you hear his voice. his free fingers finding your nape, your skin dance; tingles in the wake of goosebumps, you feel his abdomen houses clutters of butterflies who fly to the tempo of his palpitating heart, and his cranium is a ground of play for rampant imagery

and things stay like this. he reads. you listen for each syllable as they glide off his tongue, lulling your muscles to unravel, your lashes to flutter shut.

"yeah, i have never seen him either, does he at least have time for you?"

alhaitam always wakes much too early for your liking, but he always humours you when you pull him back into an even warmer chest each time he scoots away. your voice mumbling just five more minutes. and he stays.

even when the day is long and you can only see him before going to sleep, you rambled. spilling whatever random scene were to display beneath your eyelids, conveying a multitude of senseless thoughts with a voice low of pitch and groggily muddled with a recognizable desire to fall into the hands of sleep, and he always listens.

doesn't matter if the curls of his dark lashes fluttered to a close, daring him to befall subject to the will of his physical need, but whenever you would stir within his arms, trembling and cutely shrinking in response, he would promptly press you flush to his nude chest and allow the slow thump of his heart to alleviate any previous distress that had startled you from your state of dozing, ceasing your teeter towards unconsciousness.

and when you fall asleep on the couch, he bundles you up in his arms, carries you to bed. you can't see it, but he’s smiling, feeling proud, feeling warm. it nearly bursts when he sets you down, folds you beneath the covers, tucks you in like always. then he crouches down to your level, and he kisses the shallow dip your temple gives. and he can't he it, but you smile too.

"sure you are okay? he just doesn't seem like the kind of, you know, to be able to love somebody."

you freeze, and alhaitam feels like everything suddenly stops.

alhatiman? the same alhaitam who cannot help himself when it comes to you? the man whose stare descends with a determined will, falling over every rounding and arched feature your facial adorns; he has to etch any blemishes and discoloration into memory. every asset is an additional detail solely unique to your character. alhaitam, who is compelled, driven, to stall for a moment more and appreciate the mere sight of you.

whose kisses are commonly renown as esteemed rarities and seldom acquaint with your supple skin. alhaitam, whose faint brushing of his lips remains long after he has finished as a bitter tinge of coffee sour on his tongue. the weight of his doughy lips coat yours in a sugarless tart.

alhaitmamwho struggles when conveying his harbored ardor, submitting to the intensity of heat that blossomed from the kindled fire of his heart; who yearns for an affinity but is terrified of the eternal menaces that endanger you and himself alike, scared to lose the last entity with possession of his fancy.

you know the way alhaitam paints his uneasy expression over with feigned confidence. his shoulders are square, but his stomach is a festering tsunami, rough waves lapping at his insides and battering his abdomen until nausea settled somewhere deep; who is ceaselessly tranced and subject to enchantment is perpetually perceived as infatuated; bewitched. unwavering gape fixated and motionless, his adherence is akin to devout. subject to time, he is spellbound; consumed with imagery that fuels his crave for a singular desire: you.

"oh, and when he—"

"because that's my choice" you interrupt her, your mind is running a mile a minute, but the smile hung from your lips doesn't falter. you stride as if already victorious, poised; daunt. "i love him with all that, because of all that."

you twist instinctively to look at him at the door. and your face – archons, the sight of you– it's like unfettered sunlight, like the first sip of coffee in the morning, like a hot shower after a long, long day.

"anyways, i have to go now," you head for the door, and you can hear a startled squeal in the distance. "nice meeting, thank you for inviting me." and you can see the pale faces of your coworkers when they notice alhaitam waiting for you.

he just nods his head in greeting, before following you.

"you are quiet, penny for your thoughts?." you ask.

he opens his mouth, floundering for words, any words, to fill the blooming silence between you. instead he just stands there, hand around your hand. just stands there. holding onto you.

"it's nothing. let's go home" he reiterates his abiding purpose with a heavy hand cupping your cheek. he has you, he affirms, right here. alhaitam has no desire to abandon his home in your arms. he faithfully persists as a knight at your side.

. ࣪✦ ៸៸ tottentz ▐ © 2024 ､ ? 𓄹 ܵ ۪

[akaistudio]

Genshin, but I choose the skin colors

(I didn't like Kaveh's chin)

[0h-eme]

🏛️🌱

[ultimate-polyship-tourney]

Ultimate Polyship Tournament:Round 33|Side A

Propaganda under the cut:

4ggravate

they regularly go on dates to the bar together and collectively raise and constantly fret over their daughter collei. yknow out of four people youd think at least one of them would have to be mentally sound, and yet

[thevoid404]

*insert roomate joke here

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

alhaitham (genshin impact)

Can Alhaitham perform a…

[anschiart]

[olenivan]

"глаз бога"

часть 1

translation

page 1

the end of the semester. You know what that means. This means it's time for research.

Divide into groups and get to work. I am waiting for your reports in 2 weeks.

Any questions? no.

get started

on the board:" practice: investigation of the peculiarities of the architecture of ancient tombs"

------------------------------

page 2

look! these are inclusions of gold in the stone

sounds: knock, clap (from stones)

--------------------------------------

page 3

watch out!!

-----------------------------

page 4

"######" - wisdom

what does it mean?

What are you doing?

KAVEH!!!

K-kavi?

Sounds: BANG BOOM

------------

page 5

Out of the way!!!

where are they going?

haven't you heard? there was a COLLAPSE in the tomb. the senior students of kshahrevar have just there research

O Archons! Has anyone been hurt?

it is not yet known.....

KAVEH!?!

in the notebook: report In the literary language , words obey The generally accepted model of the language norm

с днем рождения, Кавии

это мой взгляд на историю Кавеха, основываясь на той информации что есть

приятного чтения~~

[xninanix]

Самый горячий мен всея Тейвата

www.instagram.com/_xninanix_/

vk.com/xninanix

[einpressens]

I decided to use all those materials that i bought but was afraid to use because "What if i mess up? There's not going to be an easy way to fix it". Fuck that mentality. I embrace my mistakes now.

[gojosoups]

cw: smut, consensual spanking, fingering, orgasm denial, cum licking, f!reader, all characters are 18+, MDNI, not proofread..like at all..

whenever you're being disobedient, you'll find yourself thrown across his lap, your bare ass up as he caresses your cheeks before giving them a harsh smack.

your body launching forward from the force of the impact as sobs escape your pretty whiny lips. each slap harder than the next, your ass stinging as he fondles it. his thick fingers playing with your pretty puffy lips, spreading your wetness across your folds and teasingly flicking at your cute clit, ignoring your whines and begging, before delivering another smack to your ass.

"how many was that?" he asks, his hand cupping your ass, trying to soothe the sting. you whine dumbly, lying helplessly across his lap, all thoughts leaving your brain as you blink away tears.

"please…" you cry out, nails digging into the sheets below you in frustration.

"wrong," he says with an evil grin, hand striking down to make contact with your poor, sore ass. your body lunging forward, the sound of skin slapping skin ringing throughout the room. your throat dry and rough as he pulls out silent screams from your wobbly lips.

hands grabbing your ass cheeks, he spreads them apart, taking a look at your pretty pussy, before spitting in it. a pathetic whine leaving your lips as you feel his fingers playing around with your juices and his spit, making a mess of your poor cunt.

a thick finger sneaking its way between your lips, curling into your sweet spot as you lose your breath. your legs twitching in pleasure as you feel his fingers stretch you open, stretching your tight pussy with his thick digit, leaving you begging for more and more.

your abdomen tightening as he adds a second finger, disappearing between your glistening wet lips and playing with your gummy walls. feeling your orgasm approaching, you squirm, trying to grind against his fingers, only for a gasp to leave your lips as he delivers another smack to your ass.

you look behind you, tears in your eyes as you beg your boyfriend to let you cum, brows furrowed in frustration and expression sour at having your orgasm denied.

"only good girls get to cum," he says, pulling his fingers out and licking them clean, leaving you high and dry with a sore ass and needy pussy.

── gojo, GETO, NANAMI, toji, sukuna, MIGUEL O'HARA, eren yeager, ERWIN SMITH, light yagami, KANTO MANJI MIKEY, KANTO MANJI HANMA, AL HAITHAM, DOTTORE, PANTALONE, KAMISATO AYATO, TRAFALGAR LAW, zoro, shidou ryusei, SAE ITOSHI + your favs (I gave up lol)

a/n: really not lying when I said this is not proofread, sorry it's so shitty but I had to post something

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[shysuccubusstuff]

twitter links x Genshin men! pt. 2

Note: You know how this works, let me know if there is any type of issue with the links! Btw, sorry if I repeat some links or similar stuff, not like I keep track of my links :P

Alhaitham:

After pestering him for the whole day, it was only fair for him to fuck some sense into you, right?

He looked so lonely and stressed sitting there alone :(( Of course he needed someone supporting him under his desk!!

Just Alhaitham showering you with his deep love ♡♡ He just couldn't wait to get to the bed after seeing you so focused on your own work, not his fault that you are so pretty :((

Quick round in the middle of the library! I mean, they say it's good to take a break while working, what's wrong with this?

Itto:

How could you forget about Itto's breeding season?! By the time you are finally able to make him fall asleep your insides are completely filled to the brim

Maybe eating your pussy is all he needs after acting all mighty with the gang?

Itto kept on hearing about the great properties of following the No Nut November, so of course he jumped the second he felt even slightly challenged! Sadly he lost it the same day he decided to start it...

Sometimes he just forgets how heavy he is compared to you... Not like you really mind it, though

Capitano:

Mean! Dom Capitano showing you what happens when you don't behave

Pussy so good he is able to pick you up and rise you just to fuck that hole, plus it works as extra exercise!!

He wanted to punish you so bad but you look so pretty begging :( Of course he just had to give in

He tries so hard to keep his strength concealed as he lets his pretty wife ride him :(( Loving sex with him is so so good that your brain almost melts ♡♡

[robertpattersonsleftcoochieflap]

Genshin Impact headcanons

BIG TITTIE COMMITTEE

Itto, Kaeya, Alhaitham, Childe & Wriothsley

Contents: Big tiddie men react to you (their partner) shoving your face in their tiddies.

Warnings: men tiddies, suggestive content, slight nsfw, fluff

Itto

"Hey, babe- What are you doing?" Itto laughed in surprise at your sudden affection. You feel his hard chest rumble as he laughs, making you nuzzle your face between his pecks. Both of your hands reach up and grope his muscular pecks, lightly squeezing them.

"Woah there! Getting handsy are we? Two can play at that game, baby." Itto reached down and grabbed you by the waist with two large, strong hands and easily hoisted you up so your own chest was level with his face.

"Hey! I was enjoying myself there!" You whined at him, giggling lightly at his fluffy white hair tickling you as he nuzzled his face between your breasts. He stopped and looked up at you with a smirk.

"Don't worry, I got something else for you to enjoy."

.

.

.

Did I mention that he has nipple piercings?

Kaeya

You were truly at your wits end with Kaeya. All day you'd been watching him strut in and out of your office, delivering you paperwork in his usual outfit. Only throughout the day, you had noticed something strange. Every time you saw him, his undershirt seemingly became lower and lower. He'd also made sure to bend over your desk every time he passed you your work, giving you full view down his shirt.

You'd finally had enough by the end of the day. It was late and everyone in the knights of Favonious' headquarters had gone home -- besides the usual knights that guarded the front entrance, yourself and of course Kaeya. You had just finished signing your final piece of paperwork when your blue-haired partner slinked through your door.

"Finished yet?" You looked at him, immediately taking note of his teasing smirk.

"Not yet." You paused, your eyes dropping down to his semi-bare chest, "There's still something I need to do." You look back up into his eye. You motioned him over with a single finger. Once he stood before you, you grip him by his ridiculously slender waist and pull him into your lap, finally burrowing your face into his firm-but-ample chest.

"My, my~ It seems somebody has been struggling today." Kaeya mused, his arms hugging your shoulders. He knew exactly what he was doing, teasing you all day. You groan into the valley between his pecks.

"Kaeya, you're truly evil." He laughed at your defeated tone.

"I know." With that, he pulls you up into a kiss.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham was perched in his usual reading corner when you arrived home from class. He greeted you and continued his reading. You had a very long and tiresome day at the academia that day. It seemed like nothing you did was right and it made you want to crawl into a hole and cry. You needed your boyfriend.

Alhaitham looks up at you as you approach him. "Can I touch you?" You ask, knowing sometimes your boyfriend gets a little overstimulated after a long day at the academia.

His eyes scan over you for a moment before he sets his book down and moves himself into a more comfortable position to accommodate you. "Of course." You immediately fall onto his lap and bury your head into his chest, his pecks making for a good pillow to rest your head and his heartbeat calming your soul. You close your eyes and just listen, enjoying the calm ambience.

"Has something happened today?" He asks. You shake your head and mumble, "Jus' needed you." You look up from his chest and see a light blush dusting his ears and face. His strong arms tighten around your body and he gently kisses your forehead.

No more words were exchanged for a while after that. You both just enjoyed the quiet ambience of each others company...

.

.

.

That was until Kaveh came home after his class and complained both your ears off about a project he was assigned.

(Autistic Alhaitham is real.)

Childe

Despite your husband being a fearsome harbinger of the fatui, he was gentle with you. Even during your episodes of play fighting. Ajax laughed loudly as you attempt to tackle him to your shared bed. He'd just made it back home from his business trip to Liyue and you were eager to get your hands on your ginger partner.

You had missed him dearly, but you also understood that his work was extremely important and he even had to complete quests asked of him by the beloved Tsaritsa herself. "I swear I'm going to lock you up so you cannot leave me again." You wrapped your arms and legs around his sturdy body, nuzzling your face into his neck and taking in his familiar scent.

Ajax chuckled and hugged you tighter. "Alright." He sat you both down on the bed where you finally pulled away to take in his appearance. You raised an eyebrow.

"A harness, Ajax? This is what the fatui have you wearing?" You tugged on his chest harness, enjoying the way his body came forward with it. "Yes, they do. Got a problem with that?" He asked, amused by the question.

"Perhaps I really should lock you away." Your hands ran over his chest, admiring the way it looked with the harness tightened around it. You flatten your hand in the middle of his chest and shove him down, leaning over to look him in the eye. "Can't have anyone else seeing you this."

The ginger raised an eyebrow and smirked, watching as you stared at his chest with a glazed look in your eyes. That's when you begin unbuttoning his shirt, making sure to leave the harness on. Once his shirt is unbuttoned, that is when you strike.

You waste no time shoving your face into his pecs, gripping them with both your hands and squeezing them together. Ajax laughs, his hands rub up and down your waist, as you continue your assault. That's when you bite. His whole body twitches and he lets out a yelp. "H-hey!" This does not deter you though. You've been without this man for weeks and you're determined to get your fill of him. You nip, suck and bite across his chest, leaving marks in your path. By the end of it, your husband was thoroughly ruffled, his face sporting a deep blush and his chest and neck covered in marks left by you. You sat up and smirked in satisfaction with your work. You meet his half lidded eyes.

"Take off your clothes.... Leave the harness on though."

.

.

.

You'd truly never seen this man move faster.

Wriothesley

You had been pissing Wriothesley off all day. You'd made it your objective today to see how long it would take him to crack before he punished you -- And you were doing a hell of a good job of it.

The Duke was at his wits end with you. You'd purposely been flaunting around his office all day in your skimpiest clothes and talking back to him. Making sexual innuendos at every possible opportunity and even going as far as to flirt with guards in front of him. It was an hour away from lights out and he was almost done with his paperwork when you sauntered out of your shared bedroom, and back into his office. He immediately gritted his teeth. You were in nothing but one of his dress shirts.

You were thoroughly enjoying the reactions you so easily drew out of your husband. It was immensely entertaining to you. Especially since there was little to do in the Fortress of Meropide. I mean, what did he expect locking you down here?

You sauntered your way over to him, taking no notice of the work he was doing and drape yourself across his lap. He let out a deep growl of your name. You only smirk up at him in response and play with the tie around his neck, tugging on it.

"What's wrong with you today?" He grumbled out, his tone frustrated.

"Bored," You say nonchalantly. "And I want attention." You run your finger down his chest, picking at the dip in his dress shirt. Wriothesley let out a groan. "So you've distracted me all day? Because you wanted attention?"

You grinned up at him, "Yep." You said, popping the P. He let out a sigh and shook his head at your ridiculousness. "Well, I have a few more things to do. Do not distract me." You didn't reply.

The Duke continued to do his work, ignoring you completely. You pouted. Then an idea bloomed in your head and your gaze dropped down to the muscular chest before you.

Wriothesley let out a yelp. You were too busy groping him to notice. You had your face shoved between his tits, rubbing your face in the grey chest hair between them, your hands slipped into his shirt, squeezing and pulling at his pierced nipples.

"Okay, that's it." He gripped the back of your collar and pulled you out of his cleavage like a scolded kitten.

"Hey! I was busy-" You were cut off by him throwing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and storming off with you to your shared bedroom.

.

.

.

It was going to be a long night for you.

[quimichi]

↳ ❝ [ACCIDENAL CONFESSION] ¡! ❞

↳ Chat: Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt.4

characters: Aether, Albedo, Al-haitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Capitano Childe, Cyno, Dainsleif and Diluc x F!Reader

[lijojo]

genshin sugar daddies

premise: you have seven sugar daddies: one for every day of the week. a bit overwhelming, right? however, you somehow find ways to make time for each and every one of them, no matter how emotionally and physically demanding they are. it's just that, now they don't seem too keen on sharing, and you don't know what to do. (modern au)

tw: nsfw, dark content - minors dni

mondays are always harder in more ways than one. mondays are diluc's days, and that means that you're spending a good portion of your nights at angel's share.

on mondays, it's happy hour. which means that you're sitting at a booth in the corner looking pretty while diluc is tending to his customers. you're more than happy to sit back and relax while you wait for him to finish with work. when the drinks are on the house, you're willing to wait as long as it'll take.

periodically, when he's not busy, however, he'll walk over to you and engage in conversation. you act as a taste-tester for new drinks so he's always asking you if you like them. you two will talk about your day, any interesting events, and so on until diluc is pulled back into work again.

then you're back to fiddling your fingers and watching him work. over time, you've learned that he preferred that you not do anything while you were supposed to be with him. that instead, you fixated your gaze on him while he moved about. sometimes you'll catch him looking at you to see if your eyes are still on him.

even while he's dealing with a certain tone-deaf bard, there's something about the way he looks at you so intently that reminds you of a predator.

when angel's share closes, you're there to keep him company while he cleans up. when he's done, he'll sweep you away back to his manor.

you'll fall onto the sheets as he grinds against you. his shallow breaths brush against your throat. the look he gives you is nothing short of intense.

"everyone at the tavern was looking at you, you know," he mutters, running his fingers down your chest, sinking into your pants. he pulls them down effortlessly along with your panties. "didn't you feel it, darling? their filthy eyes on you. they want to ruin you. everyone wants to ruin you."

he throws your legs over his shoulders, his fingers crawling up your thighs. you jump when he suddenly inserts two fingers into your cunt, scissoring you. his free arm wraps around your leg to keep you locked against him. his eyes are glued onto you as he presses a kiss against your calf.

"but your eyes were on me all night, weren't they. couldn't take your eyes off me, could you. you're mine, dear. do you hear me? you're mine."

you don't overlook how tight his grip is. tight enough to make you wonder if he'll ever let you go. in the morning, he does, but you're scared for the day he wakes up and decides that it's for the last time.

tuesdays aren't as bad. when you’re sore from the night before, childe is there to take you out to meals, shopping, and sightseeing. he's not always available to spend time with you on tuesdays, because of his equally-demanding job and whatnot, but when he is free, he never wastes a second.

or a dollar.

childe smirks smugly from his sea. his posture is lax, one hand lazily tracing circles on the chair's arm while the other comes up to rest under his chin.

"how about you twirl for me, girlie? you look so beautiful."

you giggle, observing yourself in the mirror. "why thank you."

you bask in the way the soft satin kisses your skin. the way your newly-own earrings sparkle under the dressing room's light. just a couple years ago, you could've only dreamed of being dressed so prettily.

"do your side-bitches ever treat you as well as me?"

"childe!" you chide.

he laughs, getting up from his seat. but you both know better than to believe his little chuckle is genuine.

he approaches you, sliding his hands around your waist. tucking your head under his chin, he stares at you through the mirror's reflection.

you don't say anything, and childe doesn't either. it appears he's more than happy to enjoy just standing there. his gaze is glossed over, far away.

the two of you sway side to side for what seems like forever until he decides to say something.

"do they buy you pretty things like i do?"

of course they do, you think. although you spend one-on-one time with each and every one of them, they are all aware of each other. it's only right that they did. it was the first thing you said when you brought the idea up to them, that it wasn't going to be exclusive.

but when you see the way he looks at you, you can't really tell him the truth. not when his focus is redirected from his thoughts to you.

"the things you buy me are a special kind of pretty," you reply.

it seems like that answer is enough for him, because he doesn't say anything else. instead he hums quietly, letting the vibration ripple in the back of your head. he slides his hands down your hips and before you can say anything else, he whips his head around.

"i'll buy these sets." he motions over to the closest clothes rack to an attendant you hadn't noticed. "and that one. and the dress she's wearing. how many colors does this come in, by the way?"

the attendant doesn't hesitate. "five colors, sir. they come in bla—"

"great." he shuffles through his pocket to pull out a black card. "pack them up, we won't be here any longer," he retorts.

the attendant looks ecstatic, quickly shuffling out of the dressing rooms towards the cash register with newfound glee.

"childe," you whine. "i don't think these will fit in my closet."

his hands crawl lower, his finger hovering over your clit. "then they'll fit in mine. come over any time of the week when you want to wear one of my special pretty things."

your breath hitches as he rubs slow circles on your clit. he pushes the two of you back into the dressing room and closes the curtains.

"what are you doing, she'll be back any second—"

he kisses the corner of your jaw, pressing his lips close to your ear. "no worries. if there's one thing i'm sure about, it's that no one undresses you faster than i do."

wednesday is when usually everything calms down. kazuha will typically invite you to a new park, scenic route, or gallery. together, you'll write haikus, sonnets, and limericks together. some hours you'll just sit in silence, putting pen to paper. and when the sun goes down you'll exchange poetry.

out of the seven men, kazuha probably scares you the most. he was the first person you decided to do this whole ordeal with, after all. and since he's known you the longest, he also knows about your circumstances more than others. maybe that's why he's so focused on treating you as if you were a fragile cherry blossom petal. his touches feel like ghosts, running down your forearm as he presses a kiss to the apple of your cheek.

in exchange for his protection, his money, and his care, you give him honeyed words. you act as his muse for when he's hit a creative block. you're there to listen to him read out verses when the wind can't bear the strength to carry them. you listen to his grief about his best friend, his loneliness when he was forced to leave his home country. as someone many of the locals looked to for wisdom, he too carried the emotional burdens of being someone's rock. emotional burdens that he let onto you (whether purposefully or not, you're unsure). but you listen anyway, hearing him talk about days of poverty, where sometimes he had to worry about things to eat, or how to get proper healthcare.

you can't lie and say you're always stable enough to hear some of the things he has to say, but you try.

even if you sometimes feel like you can't take it, you just smile and squeeze his hand tighter like you're supposed to. sometimes your mind will go on autopilot, and sometimes you'll stand up on the grounds of needing to go to the bathroom. but at the end of the day, this is what you signed up for. this. making men happy so that you yourself won't have to worry about your endless debt.

you peer over your notebook to see kazuha immersed in his own writing. but instead of his usual peaceful expression, he looks somber. his hands won't leave the paper, his eyes glued onto the words that he's drawn onto the pages.

"what's got you so worked up?" you ask curiously. "is it something new?"

it's like your voice snaps him out of his trance. he blinks, looking up at you. there's a smile you know all too well on his lips. "yeah, i suppose you could call it that."

"could i look at it? i want to see what's got you so focused like that."

his lips press into a straight line. "hmmm, maybe later."

his words catch you off-guard. usually he's the one who's eager to share his work, regardless of the quality. "oh? is it something you want to keep secret?"

he doesn't many any hint of an answer. instead, he puts down his pen and stares at the ground in contemplation. he's picking and choosing what words to say.

"i could protect you," he says, shuffling his papers to the side. you turn to him, curious. his expression slowly hardens. "by myself, i mean. i could take care of you."

"kazu—"

"i have the means to make a living for the both of us. i could sell more of my poetry, i know they'll sell well—"

"where is this coming from?" you move closer to him, brushing his hair aside. "kazu, are you worried about something?"

there's something that's stopping him from saying anything. his fingers intertwine with yours, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

he purses his lips, before turning away and sighing. "no, not really."

after that, he doesn't say anything else. the two of you bask in silence once again. even though you're used to the quiet, there's something deep down in you that feels nervous. like something in the atmosphere changed. there's a sudden resolved glint in his eye as he get backs to writing so diligently on a piece of paper he won't let you read.

after all these days spent talking about himself, somehow you're scared for the day he suddenly decides to stop.

on thursdays you're usually at tighnari's greenhouse, watching him take notes of other plants while you twiddle your thumbs. once in a while, he'll begin rambling about the plants—what kind of species they are, how rare, their medicinal properties, and the like.

you're more of a companion, than anything. someone who can make his days a little less lonelier. and you appreciate it. it's much more tranquil with him. you can enjoy his sharp quips, especially when cyno comes to visit.

his sex-drive is relatively normal, if not a little below average. just like wednesday, you also expect thursday to be a typical rest day.

except when spring comes.

when spring comes, your routine get a little wonky. for one week, at least. because that's when tighnari's heat hits him like a fucking monsoon.

you can already tell when it's coming when he begins to hover closer to you. whenever you take your hand out to do anything, even the slightest gesture, he's already taking it and dragging it towards his sensitive ears.

the moment you've made your plans set to 'take the week off' and help him out, he's already on you, face pressed into your neck as if it's his oasis.

as you can tell, he takes this week very seriously.

"i bet—shit—those other fucks don't get to hold you as long as i do," he lets out as he fucks into you like there's no tomorrow. his hands hold onto your waist like he owns it, pressing sloppy kisses down your spine. "looking so pretty for me. i wonder what they'd say if you got pregnant with my babies. you'd be so much more beautiful plump with my kids. is that what you want huh? to make them angry with my cum stuffed in your gorgeous pussy?"

some days you almost can't believe how uncharacteristically aggressive he is. he dicks you down like he's trying to imprint his shape into the core of your body so that none of the others can fit inside.

and when he cums, he'll take whatever unfortunate portions slip out and smear it all over your chest. especially where your heart is.

then the process starts all over again.

when it's over, he'll spoon you. as if he didn't almost fuck you to death. his touch is tender, like a ghost's hovering over your skin.

"why won't you leave them all for me?"

you shift a little to look at him and kiss him softy, sweetly, on the line of his jaw. "oh, nari, you know i can't."

his ears droop at your words. "you can't, or you won't."

his words make you freeze a bit.

you think back to last week, and the week before, and the one before that. you think about why you started selling your services in the first place, the endless debt you used to be in, and the progression of the relationship between all seven of your...contacts. even if you wanted to, you don't think you could back out if you tried. you've dug a hole for yourself. one deep enough to cause some sort of disruption if you ever decided to stop digging.

so you just hum. "you know how much i love routine."

as some sort of apology, you give him and open-mouthed kiss, one he's almost desperate to return. he moans, hands cupping your face to bring you closer to him.

you're well unaware how much your words have an impact him.

at the end of the week, all al-haitham wants to do is unwind. it's the only logical thing to do. no late-night drinks with the colleagues, no stressful trips to some tourist trap. on fridays, al-haitham comes home to a meal made with love.

when al-haitham's at work during the day, you're usually running your actual errands. it's when you have time to make those one-in-a-blue-moon visits to your actual home, although it's getting harder to call it that.

when it gets to the late-afternoon, you'll usually head to al-haitham's place to start cooking. if you didn't know how to cook before, you do now. every ingredient is handled with care, measured meticulously just as you knew he preferred.

and when he gets home, tired and stressed out, you're there to welcome him with a chaste kiss on the cheek.

during dinner, sometimes he'll talk to you about work or the latest research he'd gotten himself immersed with. in return, you tell him about some of your childhood memories. your likes, your dislikes, what used to be your hobbies. you do your best to keep your personal matters out of the conversation, no matter how many times he tries to pry into your private life.

sometimes dinners feel like a full on investigation, the way he keeps greeding for more information about you. he watches you eat with calculating eyes. you pretend to pay no mind to it.

in the beginning, kaveh used to join you for dinners. you always liked the guy, the way he bickered with al-haitham and riled him up. but now you've begun to see less of him, as if he never comes home on fridays at all.

after dinner, there are two different outcomes depending on his mood:

outcome one is that you'll spend the rest of the night curling up on his couch, the both of you immersed in your own books. al-haitham leans on your shoulder as he flips through the pages as if they're nothing. you can't help but feel ticklish whenever his hair brushes against your jaw.

somewhere in the middle, he'll move one hand to start fidgeting with the end of your shirt, sometimes crawling underneath to caress your sides.

outcome two is less quiet. the moment he gets home with that solemn face, you know it's coming. his voice is huskier, his responses shorter. it's usually a result of an impending deadline, colleagues being more peskier than usual.

the moment you two are done with dishes, he gingerly takes your hand and leads you up to the bedroom.

his kisses tastes like green tea and dinner. his hands run up and down your torso, trying to imprint the feel of your skin into every inch of your brain. you whimper when his thumbs press softly into your nipples, rolling them around as they harden.

your hands find purchase on his collar, tugging him impossibly close. he groans at the contact.

you let out a yelp when your back suddenly falls onto the bed. your hands are pressed onto the sheets, al-haitham's fingers encircling your wrists. his knee nudges your legs further apart, rubbing at your clit.

"don't look at the ceiling, dear, look at me," he breathes out, his hands leaving your nipples to gently guide your face towards. "that's it. good girl. just me. just look at me. only me."

he smiles.

"now, let me do god's work on your divine body."

saturdays with ayato can sometimes get hectic. some saturdays you're out getting bubble tea together and enjoying the city, and other saturdays you're hurrying to some publicitiy event hosted by the kamisato clan.

on those type of days, you can expect to wear gowns layered with shiny nylon tulle fabric. it's not as revealing as what you'd try on in dressing rooms with childe. in fact, it's a bit more modest.

today you're wearing a light-blue gown to match with ayato. you turn around to get a good look at the cute bow attached at your waist, your diamond encrusted earrings swaying along with you.

it's as if you've put on another costume. another front to wear for the night.

ayato enters the room just shortly after. in his hands is a diamond necklace to match with your stunning earrings. small smile falls upon his lips when he clasps it on.

"you're beautiful," he mumbles. you giggle when he kisses you square on the lips, licking away the tinted color.

"ayato," you press in-between kisses. you place a hand on his chest to gently push him away. "you're going to ruin my lipstick."

he pulls away with a cheeky smile, taking your wrists to wrap around his neck. "you can always put on some more later."

you pout but kiss him regardless. he tightens his hold on you in reaction, moaning into your mouth.

at these kinds of events, you're there as his plus-one. just so that other officials could stop introducing girls to him when he clearly wasn't interested in them. it'd be arguable to say that you might even be there to make the events a little less intolerable.

somewhere along the lines, you'd sleep with him in addition to being his arm candy at parties. sometimes even before: you two rushing to put on your formal attires and fix your hair minutes before the event started.

but beyond that, you started to get to know him better. he'd whisper into your ear about funny stories relating to the guests as you meet them. sometimes you'd run away in the middle of the party to binge out on the food and talk about your other interests. surprisingly, he doesn't talk about the politics behind his duties as the head of the kamisato family. not as much as you expected, at least.

instead he talks about his dreams for a family. how many kids, what their names would be, how he'd raise them. and as he talked, he'd give you this heavy gaze that you're not sure what to do with. as if he was expecting something from you.

you're beginning to believe that ayato has somehow confused contractual girlfriend with actual girlfriend.

when you had met ayaka months ago, ayato introduced you as his girlfriend. you didn't attempt to correct him—that's ayato's business. not your's. but when you're expecting ayato to come clean to his dearest sister, you're sorely mistaken.

instead, while he kisses your lips so hungrily, he subtly slips a diamond ring onto your finger.

sundays are usually kaeya's days off. although the cavalry captain's duties are seemingly never endless, he takes the day off to take a breather.

in other words, he sees you.

at first, it was just candlelit dinners. he'd walk in with a bouquet of roses, complimenting your dress and staring at you as if he was undressing you with his eyes. he'd take you to somewhere fancy, pull out the chair for you and sweet-talk you all through the night.

conversations were fun with him. you didn't have to think much at all, not about how to pay the bills, the six men in your life who seemingly began to want yours to only revolve around theirs, or being someone your not.

kaeya was probably the only one who you felt you could be comfortable with. he made you laugh, he'd tell all sorts of interesting stories, and he never made the silence feel awkward.

at least, that's how you used to be.

you see, usually after these candlelit dinners you'd both go back to his place, with him ripping off your clothes the moment the door closed. but as of recently, he's been asking to come over to your place instead more often. almost too often.

and that's not the only thing that's changed.

the sex used to be rough. heated. almost as if he was consumed by all of his pent-up sexual frustration and was only focused on getting off. he'd slurp your cunt like a man starved but he'd still rail you as if that's the only thing he cared about.

but as time passed, he's been getting more and more...sensual. the sex is much more slower. personal, almost.

vulnerable.

after dinner, he slowly slips off your clothing. one article after another, until your left in your underwear. he first kisses you on the mouth, then your neck, then your chest, then your stomach. slowly, he makes a trail of them down your body, as if no skin deserved to be left untouched.

although you made a rule that no one could leave your marks on you, it doesn't mean he doesn't try. as he kisses your lower lips, sometimes he'll attempt to leave marks close to your clit. if you're not careful, diluc will find it tomorrow.

his thrusts were always deep, but now that he's much more purposeful about it. it's rhythmic, as if he's trying to reach a new spot inside you. somewhere no one's touched.

the pillow-talks are much more longer as well. he holds you tighter now, wrapping his arms around your hips as he tangles his legs with yours.

instead of ranting on about the silly incidents he witnessed on the job earlier in the week, he talks about his feelings. towards you. towards diluc. towards himself. some nights you can handle it, some nights are too much.

but you can't say anything. not when he's holding onto you like you’re his lifeline. not when he helps you pay off your debt. and so you let his raspy voice whisper in your ear as he combs his fingers through your hair. you listen to him mumble sweet-nothings.

you're not sure if you like the adoring look he gives you as you drift off to sleep.