#alhaitham x reader smut | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

silkjade · 1 month ago

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FAIREST OF THEM ALL

alhaitham x mermaid!reader au ⤀ synopsis: mermaids, and their vanity, and their affinity for pretty things... who better to admire, than the fairest one of all? ⤀ cw: fem!reader, established relationship, mirror sex, fingering, praise, rough + unprotected sex, size kink, creampie, a lil bit of dom!haitham, overstimulation, cervix kisses, squirting, subspace, vry sweet he’s actually so in love — mdni || ꒰ 5.1k wc ꒱ ⤀ notes: recommended to read the affiliated series, but it can stand alone as well ! reblogs & feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡

series masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼

Mermaids and their vanity and their affinity for pretty things…

Where Alhaitham lacks in idle conversations, he makes up for in his acute observation; taking note in particular of the way you glance at your reflection—not only in the mirrors of a merchant’s passing display, but at every turn, and every corner. In the stained glass windows of the Akademiya, in the bronze vessels decorating Lambad’s second floor…even now, on your excursion through the Grand Bazaar, he catches the quick flit of your head as you peer at yourself in the fountain beneath Zubayr Theater.

Not that he’d ever fault a star for its beauty, when even the sweltering Sumeru sun is roped into your orbit—bending to your will as it dazzles behind you, like a halo in your backdrop. Perhaps the world is, but a shell…and a pearl such as yourself—beautiful and rare—ought to shine on a more veracious display. A familiar smirk plays on his lips, painting his handsome face in a devious shade of sly.

It’s clear from just your peripherals that he must be devising something terrible… Yet there’s a dance to your step when you stop him in his path; your hands clasped coyly behind your back, as you dip into his vicinity with your feigned innocence.

“And just what are you smiling for?” you lilt, shifting your weight forward onto your tiptoes. He leans over to honor what he can only surmise to be a wordless request, but you pull away before his lips ever have the chance to meet yours. You gleam in that coquettish smile of yours—one that sits so perfectly atop your playful flirtations. “Thinking about me?”

Alhaitham clears his throat, crossing his arms with a raised brow, despite the remaining wisp still tugging at the corner of his lip. “Am I not allowed to smile?”

By now, he can accurately read your tells and predict your actions: pursed lips and shifting eyes…all in a poor attempt to hide your grin as you quip back with something smart, or flirtatious, or on certain days, shameless—any of which might send a lesser man into a fluster. Not that he fares particularly better when it comes to you…

So he cuts you off while he’s still ahead, his strong arm easily pulling you back into his sphere, and with a tilt of his head, gestures at the fountain, letting curiosity guide you as it casts your reflection onto the waters’ surface once again.

“Just thinking about how pretty you are...”

And pretty you are indeed when he sits you between his legs, your bare back arching away from his chest as he curls his fingers in your cunt, hitting exactly where he knows you’d keen. His free hand kneads at the meat of your inner thigh, parting your legs wider in the process, your pussy lips following suit, blooming with the sticky sound of your wetness.

Alhaitham huffs, impressed, as he glances into the mirror standing steadfast before you both. Large and unwavering, it’s resolute in its honorable pursuit to uncover the truth—the one with your cunt propped open and your head thrown into the curvature of his neck. The one you’re clearly not yet privy to, if your eyes are squeezed shut in the midst of all your pleasure. It’s a shame, really. For although he’s never had the ambition to conquer the unknown verities, if such beauty were the splendor of all the world’s truths, then he’d gladly partake down this endless road—as a scholar or as a madman. After all, who better to perfect his limited human perspective, than the fairest one of all?

Tilting his head, he kisses his way up the column of your neck, feeling you curl into him as he paints intermittent bruises on your supple skin, stopping only when he reaches beneath your ear so that his teeth may tug lightly on its lobe.

“I know how you love to admire your own reflection…” His voice gravels in your ear, the rich baritone sending a shiver whose reach extends all the way down to your core. “So don’t you want to see how pretty you look?”

“No. That’s—” Whining, you continue to shake your head at the very prospect, ignoring the clear disconnect as you tighten and clench around the fingers still holed up inside of you. “‘s embarrassing…”

He hums from deep in his chest; thoughtfully amused at how such words could leave your mouth, when your cunt gushes as unabashedly as if she were attempting to lure his fingers further with a squelching song of her own. But there’s nothing to tempt, when there’s no iron will to break, for your bodies move like the moon and the tide: ebbing and flowing, ever connected, fates intertwined. Where his thumb spreads to draw harsh circles, your breath shallows in response, crying out at the sudden aggressive waves of pleasure that surge at your clit. Your nails dig into the sheets, hips lifting and squirming to no avail, as he continues to barrage you from the inside out.

“Haitham…” you breathe, and he knows you’re close from how you moan through sealed lips, brows furrowed and teeth clenched, until the disappointing realization that he’s pulled out. Your doe eyes flutter open, perplexed and brimming with spoiled petulance at his amused brow and little smirk, whilst at the same time, your lips part with all the intention of asking your lover ‘whyyyy?’, if only for the fact that he’s simply…faster.

Slick-coated fingers grasp onto your chin, slowly tilting your head down—away from that safe corner by his neck—so that you’d come meet him in the mirror, with all your vanity in tow. He holds your gaze, never turning away, not even as his head dips again so that his lips are level when he whispers low and sultry into your ear.

“If you look away, I’ll stop.”

…And so you watch as Alhaitham turns his attention back between your legs, spreading open your folds until they’re well smeared with your free-flowing slick. And you watch as two lithe fingers penetrate past your slit, steadily pumping slow, smooth strokes, before splintering apart to stretch you open in preparation for the third prodding at your entrance, eager to join the fray.

“That’s it,” he coos, though his low voice does absolutely nothing to soothe how you squirm against him at the…discomfort? The fervor? Perhaps even the discomfort of such fervor, as it’s become nigh difficult to tell, when his free hand has migrated to fondle with one of your breasts, roughly kneading the mound to double your sensations. “Look at you…”

Yet what is there to look at but the lascivious combination of your shame and desire? Both wrestle for a place in your reflection, battling to outweigh the other upon your visage…but it’s hardly a fair fight when shame has never been your forte—especially not when you squeeze around him so tightly, almost as if in resistance to how he’s scissoring you open.

It’s almost mesmerizing how your body reacts so eagerly: how your mouth falls open in a gasp and then a squeal, as your gummy walls concede to stretch by way of his provocation. Or that slight hitch in your breath, chest stuttering as you inhale the familiar stretch of three digits sinking into your cunt whilst you sink ever deeper into the watery depths of such hedonistic volitions.

Still, Alhaitham so greedily grasps at every open inch of you, ravishing your body with almost everything at his disposal. His chiseled frame looming behind you as he holds you open and bare, his grip the jaws of lust incarnate; his heavy breath crowding on your skin like a heated apparition of his own dire need to fuck and please and share in the admiration of just how beautiful he thinks you are—until like fine mist, it disperses across your mind, and the shame melts off your bones, replaced with only the desire for more, for him, for more of him.

“Haitham…” you mewl again, brows furrowing in an earnest attempt to keep your eyes open in spite of the rush, because god forbid he stop…

But it’s tortuous, the way Alhaitham pumps his fingers in and out—slowly, steadily—so that you’d see in your reflection, just how wet you are, hear every squish that sounds as he repeatedly buries himself three knuckles deep. Your slick coats his skin with a layer of gloss at every re-emergence, wordlessly conveying that it isn’t nearly enough to satisfy the burning ache between your legs.

“Please more… ‘m so close…” Pleading, you do what you can to muster your sweetest voice, your most honeyed cadence, in the hopes that you’d persuade him to your cause, rolling your hips to embody your words, furthering both his reach and your intent. For all the time you’ve spent with your lover in the nation of wisdom, it’s certainly helped to remember that only praxes can truly validate such words of honesty, and you truly are honest in your intent to cum.

“As you wish,” he hums, and his breath wraps around the shell of your ear in a warm embrace (though it’s hardly even an ember compared to the heat quickly ebbing in your belly.) The want amplifies by tenfold as he digs the heel of his palm against your clit, forcing another wave of euphoria to course through your form, as he angles his fingers in pursuit of where you feel him most.

Every twist, every curl, beckons at sweet release, as the tips of his fingers drag past each velvet inch of your walls at an ungodly pace, drawing out your orgasm with such magnetic fortitude that even your own lucidity seems to fade in the midst of such mental upheaval. It goes, and it goes, and it’s gone—as if the plug had just been pulled from your very being—and like a doll, your eyes fall shut to the joy of diving back into such revelry.

A sharp slap to your clit jolts you back to reality with a staggered gasp, your thighs nearly snapping shut at the sudden impact, while rootless static fills the emptiness in your stolen pleasure. Your perpetrator, however, only spares you a half-lidded glance whilst he continues to brandish the finishing touches of another hickey along your neck.

“Keep looking,” he issues, one part a command, the other, a warning. His grip loosens from your thigh, allowing your legs to fall just the slightest bit slack, before his voice softens and he pries open the lips of your drenched cunt, strumming through your folds so unbearably lazily, as you situate your gaze back into the mirror. “I want you to see everything I do to you…”

“Like how pretty you are when I touch you…” He dips a finger between your pussy lips, unfolding the rippling petals on his way up your slit, carefully paving the way for his place beneath the hood of your clit. “Here,” he drawls, rubbing at the nub so deliberately, that the sudden titillation evokes your instinct to shrink away with a broken, pitched cry; for wherever you squirm, Alhaitham follows, and backed against his chest, there’s nowhere left to turn, but forward at your reflection in the glass.

It's obscene. You’re obscene. But despite the disconnect with your head, your body still begs for more, and you think it’s almost pathetic how far you’ve sunk into his magnetism (though you vaguely recall it was once the other way around) that you hardly recognize the figure before you, so…distorted by the draw of lust. Your chest heaving with every breath that circulates through full, parted lips, your face bleary from carrying the heavy weight of pleasure on your lashes. Yet, the longer you watch, the more you glisten between your legs, clearly seduced by that perfect view of your own body on display.

Perhaps there is something provocative about the way your folds are spread, barred open by his fingers while he taps away at your clit. Perhaps there is some coquetry in the way your empty hole drools, some enchantment in how your juices shine…everything to flaunt how you need to cum—how you need him and anything he’s willing to give.

Your eyes begin to glaze, your focus drifting as you continue to stare at how your lover’s reflection so teases the hardened nub, every touch drumming your nerves with pleasure like the beguiling lull of gentle waves. At least your lungs seem to appreciate the monotonous pattern; your heaving chest adjusts to match his rhythm, the faint stimulus now an almost comfortable familiarity—one too easily shattered by the whims of another, as Alhaitham presses firmly into your swollen clit.

Renewed arousal swells in your belly, burning through whatever you thought had previously dissipated, and closing the window on any remnant of self-restraint, as you soon start to squirm with electrified impatience. Once steady breaths devolve into ragged gasps; your spine curves and your hips jolt, all from exposure to Alhaitham’s prolonged stimulation, writhing this way and that, until you inevitably grind against his cock, surprising him with his own throbbing rush of sensation.

“Do you see how,” Alhaitham grunts, gritting his teeth as he holds down a groan, “erotic you are…” Even half-dazed, you can feel just how hard his erection stands against the small of your back.

You exhale, waveringly so, as you steady yourself before releasing your grasp on the sheets, clawing weakly at his toned bicep in an effort to garner his attention. Between your misty eyes and sweat-mottled skin, disheveled hair and trembling thighs…there’s a delicate show of tenacity as your reflection holds his gaze, daring to dance with the devil you’ve chosen to submit to. “So show me what I look like when you fuck me.”

“Gladly,” he chuckles, and there’s a wicked glint that shines from beyond the turquoise, accompanied by a dim clang and a quiet rustle, as he frees his cock from its fabric confines.

A low growl rumbles from deep in his throat as his hands run a path along the concave of your waist, before scooping you up by the underside of your thighs, and shifting you further in his lap—spread open on wide display, behind the glaring pink of his leaking tip.

Alhaitham drags his cock along your slit, gathering slick from your fluttering anticipation, as he tempers the urge to plunge into you right then and there. He swallows the thought, giving way for the honeyed lilt of your name to flow from his lips instead. You turn, looking up at him with that darling half-lidded gaze, and he breathes in the sweet image of your pretty face. Please allow him to have one good look at you—the real you, in the flesh—before he fucks you into oblivion.

He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, murmuring something you don’t quite catch. “‘Ayouni,” he hums, aligning his cock at your entrance. (My love, my eyes—as precious as the gift of sight.) “Nour ‘ayouni…” His tip dips past your entrance, wallowing in the tight fit, before finally pushing into your quivering insides—a resolute promise to fill both your desires, and your cunt as deep as you’d take him. (Light of my eyes, anything for you.)

Large hands secure themselves onto your hips, easily crowding you in until your knees are folded before your tits and your back is pressed flush against his chest. Every bead of sweat stitches your bodies together, skin on damp skin, though only you are locked on full, shameless display; your body and limbs tethered to invisible strings in his hands—his little mermaid, his little doll—to maneuver and fold as he pleases.

A pitched sob breaks the thickness in the air, followed by a few hushed whimpers and stifled moans, as you watch yourself take him, inch by overwhelming inch. It’s never truly occurred to you how big he really is—at least not until now, when you’re confronted before your very eyes with just how much your little hole must work to accommodate his size. That initial stretch when he first pushes past your folds, and how it grows wider little by little as he forges on… (it’s no wonder you always feel so delectably full.) Or how you can clearly see the protruding veins disappear as he glides deeper (is that how he’s always able to touch upon every crook and corner?)

The sight alone has you pulsing: your greedy cunt quite literally drooling at the prospect of swallowing him down to the base, churning out more slick to ease his descent, and melting any discomfort into delight. As his bonafide lover, it’s one thing to be fucked beyond belief, but to see yourself completely surrendered to your lecherous desires, and entirely pliable at his behest…? What a terrifying way to solicit your pleasure.

Still, you’ve no choice but to sputter out a moan as your walls constrict around his shaft, drawing out a grunt from Alhaitham with how titillating it feels when you cling to him like this. His rasp reverberates on the shell of your ear, travelling down your spine like lust-tainted fire to pass the message down between your thighs. And although dew threatens to blur your vision, from what you can see in the mirror, it’s clear that he’s yet to bottom out. Even worse, is that you can feel the emptiness—your insides so cravenly wanting what is amiss—because it’s just so inherently wrong that you aren’t full enough, that he isn’t deep enough.

An urgent hand flies to tangle your fingers in his hair, as you turn to pull him into a wanton kiss, your lips just as greedy as your hips that grind on his cock for more. “Want you,” you murmur between tongue and teeth, exchanging breaths as desperation and uncertainty clash in your throat, and crack like lightning in your voice. “All of you, all the way…please…?”

“Aren’t you, ngh,” he pauses, failing to swallow down his grunt, as disbelief rolls in with another tide of arousal that pulses in his cock. His attempt to taunt, ruined by his inability to resist any longer. “Aren’t you shameless today?”

“Don’t care.” Though slurred, the words still tumble out of your mouth with a sense of urgency, your fingers curling against him, grasping onto the hope that he’d finally fill you. “Just n-need you.” In such a deliriated state, it’s difficult to tell whether you had imagined the way his breath rings through the hollows of your bones—the resounding echoes of a small, yet exasperated laugh reverberating through the very core of your being…but it was real, and his presence was there, and how could he ever say no when you’re asking for his cock so nicely? Per your request, of course he’ll drop you lower onto his shaft.

Alhaitham groans, powerless against the way you whine, tightening around him as he advances further and further, until he bottoms out with a guttural ‘fuck.’ He’s never had you in such a position, but with you atop his lap and gravity as his prerogative, it’s suffice to say he’s reached...

“Too..d-deep…” you babble, eyes rolling back as your words disperse into the same nothingness that’s engulfed your thoughts.

A soft tut tut clicks from his tongue, followed by a light roll from his hips…and suddenly your string of whimpers break into a shrill gasp as his eager tip kisses the entrance to your womb. Alhaitham is, after all, a man of his word, though this time, he lets his actions speak in his stead. (Where did I tell you to look, habibti?)

There’s little time to process any of his wordless cues—especially not when his stuttered breath is hot against your neck, the warmth just beginning to melt away the jarring discomfort of being penetrated so deeply, before equally warm fingers squish your cheeks to turn your attention back to the mirror in question. “Like what you see?” he whispers, and your dew-laden eyes flutter open to the sight of you and him: thighs spread, legs tangled, your hips on his, as you sit impaled on the entirety of his length.

All you can muster is a whimper and a nod, because what else can you do when you’re so overcome by the feeling of Alhaitham…everywhere? On your tongue where you can still taste his kiss, in your veins where his love circulates to your heart, and most obvious of all, in your cunt where his leaking precum swirls with your slick.

“Show me where you feel me,” he rasps, gingerly plucking your hand away from that wrinkled patch of sheets you so desperately latch on to. His touch is sticky on the back of your hand—no doubt the remnants of your juices still clinging stubbornly to his fingers, like a souvenir collected from his last venture between your legs—but he serves well as a guide: directing you along your abdomen, letting just the very tips of your fingers, ghost across your sensitive skin.

“This…” Starting at the apex of your thighs, he helps you along the path up your lower waist. “... is how far I am inside you…”

You can’t help but wonder if it were even possible to be buried so deep within someone, but curiosity gets the better of you, and your hand begins to move on its own, absentmindedly glossing over where you feel his tip so deep, it almost seems…taboo. Not that you really care for the ins and outs of such moral standards, especially when it feels so right to be stuffed so full. Or perhaps your eyes are simply playing tricks on you—dirty work done by the fog that’s settled in your head with the sole intent of altering your cognition.

“Don’t believe me?” Hand in hand, he presses gently down onto your belly, where even the slightest bit of pressure is enough to make you jolt. But from the way he struggles to catch his breath, to the violent throbs bursting all along his length, Alhaitham too, suffers from the repercussions of his boldfaced provocation—too human to act as if he’d been left unscathed.

For even as you cry in little songs of pleasure, your walls almost seem to be spinning a trance of its own: clenching and unclenching, the pulsating rhythm urging him to move… Which he obliges to of course—adjusting ever so slightly, until he’s perfectly angled and prodding at the divot that absolutely ruins whatever’s left of you, as you’re made to feel everything all at once. Every long, languid stroke comes as an electric current, reinvigorating dead limbs as the muscles come twitching back to life, conducting more and more arousal with every rough drag of his cock. Euphoria surges and sparks fly, overloading the wires in your head, with each thrust into the very spot that unravels you so.

“Keep singing for me,” he murmurs, content with how the shape of his name breaks into pieces of fragmented whimpers and moans, echoing across the room. It’s clear his words are largely lost on you—displaced by the fresh barrage of wet kisses down your neck, to be absorbed through your skin and used as fuel for your core.

“My beautiful mermaid,” Alhaitham keeps his eyes locked on your reflection; eager, despite his own fraying disposition, to catch all your reactions. “My beautiful mermaid…who always…”

His grip tightens around the meat of your thighs, while a dominant hand glides up to the back of your knee—effectively lifting your leg higher and spreading you open wider—before a quick, rough motion lands him somewhere inexplicably deep.“…takes me so well.”

You keen, nails digging into whatever they can, anything that might still tether you to this reality when every sensation has been ignited into something far too big for you to handle. Your back curves in response, arching away from his chest, but the shift in position only sits you deeper on his cock, and a shrill sob cracks from your throat, as your stomach coils and your teary eyes flutter open to the direct image of your reflection. In the mirror’s shallow abyss, your looming orgasm stares back as its own depraved monster—inhabiting your body and tainting your pretty face with lecherous intent, as it urges you to let go.

“Come on, let go…” Or perhaps the fiend whispering in your ear is Alhaitham himself. “I promise you’re just as ravishing when you cum,” he croons, speeding up his pace to climb the heights of his determination. “Maybe even more so…”

The sheer intensity of his rough fucking is overwhelming. The extensive depth, the meticulous precision, the impressive girth—they’re all things you’ve come to expect in the bedroom with your less-than-feeble lover. But to exploit your vanity, whilst simultaneously feeding you with praise…to hold you open with his own hands, to make you a spectator of your own base instincts…

It’s a dangerous combination. It’s too much. It has your entire body trembling as the pressure peaks—your muscles wound taut, and your pussy clenching tight.

“‘m c-cumming…” you sob, though your quivering voice soon falls flat from the sheer enormity of the orgasm that races to smother you in its fervor, replacing the blood in your veins with liquid bliss, and allowing that to circulate through every inch of your being, until it becomes the only thing you can even bear to breathe.

The name ‘Haitham’ tangles with your cries, and he loves it—addicted even, to the sound of you, the sight of you—finds it near impossible to tear his eyes away from that perfect view of your pretty little cunt, obediently stretched and fully stuffed with every inch of his length. Warmth blooms and engulfs him at his mushroom tip, and Alhaitham bucks by reflex, desperate to chase your waning orgasm with his.

He’s close too; you can feel it. The familiar (yet delusional) way in which each throb seems to fill you out even more, the relentless increase in speed and force, unapologetically running his veined cock along your sensitive walls, over and over until he drags you back to the edge. His own breath skips and stutters in his lungs, but still he punctuates each word with power and precision, jutting in as deep as you’d allow him to follow. “Just. Like. That.”

And so, when it breaks, it shatters—like skipping stones across the water, rippling and disruptive as they bound on and on in a path of hedonistic destruction—until your vision blanks, and your body convulses, and your mouth falls open in a silent moan. Your release comes in a violent torrent, uncontrollably battering through your body as you drench him in your juices, leaving the remaining splice of your consciousness trembling, spent, and completely surrendered to the pleasure.

Somewhere in the white noise, you hear the echo of your name, said with a pleased lilt, as if he were…impressed? Proud? Maybe even both, for Alhaitham finds himself mesmerized by the undeniable, tangible evidence, that he’s pleasured you this far beyond belief. It’s surreal—the only word in any of the languages he’s studied (including yours)—that could even begin to describe such eroticism. For a moment, he loses track of his movements, lets his hips fall to an irregular rhythm as he fully takes to the reflection in the mirror: colorless, liquid pleasure still dripping from your hole, glistening as it runs down his shaft with every shallow draw…only to be pushed back with a squish and a squelch from the wetness that now finds a rival in the soaked sheets.

Without hesitation, he pummels back to reality, thinking only with his cock, as he pounds into you with a newfound ferocity that seems almost inhumane…but then again, a mermaid like you isn’t quite human after all.

“Can you, ngh, hold out…a little longer…?” His voice is low and strained, yet still retaining a softness reminiscent of morning mist above the waters, grazing wisps atop your skin. (Just a little longer, I promise.)

“‘kay…” The word spills from your mouth, melted and slurred into a weak mewl, too dazed to process much, other than the fact that you’d do anything he asked of you, even at your own expense. Just a little longer…(but ignore the tears that prick of overstimulation.) For him, for Alhaitham, anything for Alhaitham (in spite of how your body screams ‘too much,’ as you cream around his cock again, this time faster than all the others had come.)

Any sense of clarity found in your mantra, only serves to prove that perhaps your head truly has been scrambled to nonsense, because the only thing you could even fathom to think of, is the desperate need for him to finish inside you. For him to paint you with a white fire so hot, it’d cleanse away even the smallest remnants of your tortuous embers. The final few thrusts come sloppily—too busy drowning in your deluge to care—while the very last stroke nuzzles deep against your womb, as he fills you full of his cum.

Two sets of labored breathing resonate around the room, and in the afterglow, Alhaitham sets your frail legs down, knees buckling and knocking into one another, as your feet are finally brought to rest on something solid. (Though mentally, you don’t feel any closer to the ground.) Still, the drastic change in position shuffles his cock against your sensitive walls, breathing life to another soft groan that escapes into a silent harmony.

“Sorry,” he whispers, peppering you with soft kisses wherever his lips can reach. The unyielding grip, once pressed so firmly into your thighs, melts away—replaced by gentler hands that work to sooth the tenderness in your flesh. “I’m going to pull out now, okay?” He readies himself to withdraw from your warmth, but you blink your bleary eyes, and the distant stars in your pupils illuminate just a fraction more.

Alhaitham studies the ‘you’ in the mirror; watches the steady rise and fall of your chest as your breathing evens out, and your red-rimmed gaze drifts down the length of your body. One of your hands absentmindedly wanders, delicately brushing over the dark imprints left upon the skin of your thighs, color-matched to the hickeys blooming along your neck and shoulders—each one a bruise forged from his passion. And nothing could ever attest more to the throes of passion than the very reflection of your bodies, melded seamlessly together: his cock in your cunt, leaking with shared essence.

‘How…beautiful…’

You shake your head in dreamy opposition. “W’nna stay like this…for…a bit longer…” Your words trail into a content sigh as you rest your head back against that comfortable nook at the juncture of his neck, angling just enough to still catch your reflections in the mirror.

notes2: mirrors in his kit -> mirror in the bedroom pipeline, am i right (๑>؂•́๑) … i wasn't able to complete this in time for mermay this year, so consider this a little something for kinktober, i suppose ^^;; but i hope you enjoyed it nonetheless ! as always, thank you so much for reading, and reblogs + feedback are very much appreciated ♡

#— 𝓼𝓲𝓰𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓙. ༯ #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x reader smut #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x you #genshin x you #genshin thirsts #mermaid au #mermaid!reader #kinktober 2024 #𓇼 — 𝓼𝓲𝓵𝓴𝓳𝓪𝓭𝓮'𝓼 𝓶𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓭 𝓪𝓾

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usagii-bun · 30 days ago

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PART 2|| ⭑.ᐟ 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌| 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 ! 𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗑 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝟣𝟪+

PART 1 , PART 2

— (𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗂𝗆𝗒𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗑.)

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒...in which you are a cam girl and he is your favorite viewer OR in which you are a final year college student and he is your new professor.

𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌... smut, rough sex, oral sex (f and m),possessive sex, hair-pulling, vaginal fingering, spanking, masturbating( f and m), doggy style, mating press, language (these warnings are for all 3 parts)

this is extra long cause i combined chapters 2 and 3 together from ao3 <3

word count: 12.3k

also, please do like, reblog, and comment. i love to hear your thoughts about this <33

Alhaitham stumbled back into the apartment, the faint buzz of alcohol still lingering in his system. He was slightly tipsy, though not as far gone as his roommate Kaveh, who was practically hanging off his shoulder, muttering nonsense.

"Man, you’re so uptight, even when you're drinking," Kaveh slurred, squinting at Alhaitham as though he were the most complex puzzle in existence. "I swear, you could be at a rave and still look like you’re solving a theorem." He laughed, his voice echoing through the empty hallway.

Alhaitham rolled his eyes, his lips pressed into a thin line. "Maybe I just have better things to think about than your drunken rambling," he shot back, guiding Kaveh to the couch before retreating towards his study. He'd had enough of Kaveh's inebriated philosophies for one night.

But Kaveh, as persistent as ever, wasn't finished. "Why don't you ever just… loosen up? You're going to get wrinkles from frowning so much." He waved a lazy hand in the air. "You should find a cam girl or something. It'd do you some good."

Alhaitham stopped in his tracks, turning to glare at his roommate. "That's not exactly my thing, Kaveh."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Kaveh mumbled something else, but by then, Alhaitham had already shut the door to his study, the noise fading behind him. Sitting down at his desk, he stared at the open books in front of him, trying to push the absurd conversation out of his mind. But Kaveh’s words lingered—annoyingly so. Loosen up, huh?

He huffed, running a hand through his hair, feeling the weight of Kaveh’s drunken comment gnaw at him. It was ridiculous, really. Alhaitham didn’t need to "loosen up" in the way Kaveh suggested. He was perfectly content with his routine. Yet, for some reason, his mind kept circling back to Kaveh’s joke.

Cam girls.

Without much thought, and more out of curiosity than anything else, Alhaitham pulled his laptop closer, typing out a quick search. He wasn’t looking for anything in particular, just mindlessly scrolling through the thumbnails of various profiles. None of them really caught his interest. It all seemed so superficial, so far from anything that would actually intrigue him.

Until he accidentally clicked on a profile.

He almost clicked out of it immediately, but something made him pause. The girl on screen—her features were soft, her expression carefully masked, but there was something in her eyes. Pain, discomfort, maybe? She shifted, and he could see she was trying to hide it, to maintain the performance, but she was clearly not okay.

Before he realized what he was doing, his fingers flew across the keyboard, tipping her to stop. He wasn’t sure why he did it. Perhaps it was the urge to help, or just the fact that he couldn’t stand to see someone in obvious pain without intervening.

A notification popped up on her screen, and she blinked, pausing in the middle of whatever she was doing. Alhaitham watched as she read his message, a look of surprise briefly crossing her face before she stopped, offering a small, grateful smile in return.

He could have left it at that. He should have. But something kept him there, his hand hovering over the request for a private session. It wasn’t about pleasure—not in the way Kaveh had implied. No, this was different. He was curious, intrigued by her reaction, her vulnerability. Before he could second-guess himself, he sent the request.

When the private session began, her demeanour was noticeably more relaxed. She wasn’t putting on the same kind of show for him as she might for others, and that suited him just fine. They didn’t talk much. He asked her if she was okay, she reassured him that she was, and for the most part, he just watched. Not in a voyeuristic way, but as if observing something—someone—he didn’t quite understand.

And when it was over, he left.

He hadn’t planned on returning. Alhaitham chalked the whole thing up to an odd impulse, one brought on by Kaveh’s careless words. Yet, as the days passed, he found his mind drifting back to her. To the softness of her features, the way her smile had changed once she knew he wasn’t there to demand anything from her. The way she had looked so at ease, even in that strange, intimate setting.

It didn’t take long before he found himself on the site again. And again.

This time, he didn’t stop at curiosity. He began to indulge, slowly, cautiously, but undeniably drawn to her. There was something about her presence—her calmness, her smile—that tugged at him in ways he didn’t fully comprehend. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, or maybe it was the contrast between her work and the moments where she let her guard down. Whatever it was, it kept pulling him back.

As the days slipped by, Alhaitham found himself returning to the site more often than he expected. It had started innocently enough, just curiosity, but now something deeper tugged at him. He’d try to focus on his work, bury himself in books, but she was always there, lingering in the back of his mind.

One night, after yet another exhausting day, he found himself logging in again, the familiar tension rising in his chest. He clicked onto her profile, waiting for the livestream to start. When she appeared on screen, his breath caught. She was wearing soft, black lingerie, the delicate lace hugging her body in a way that made his pulse quicken. There was something about the way she carried herself tonight—subtle, alluring, but also personal. Intimate, almost as if this performance wasn’t for the masses but for him alone.

Alhaitham leaned back in his chair, the screen casting a soft glow over his face as he watched her. She was teasing, slow and deliberate with her movements, but what really held him captive was the way she seemed… comfortable. Confident. It wasn’t just a performance anymore, and that realization stirred something in him.

When she shifted, her fingers trailing over her skin, he felt a heat pool low in his stomach. His gaze was fixed, his mind lost in the rhythm of her motions. He tried to keep himself detached, like he had before, but this time it was different. This time, he couldn’t stop the slow, building desire creeping through him.

She began to interact with her chat, answering questions with a soft, teasing smile, but it felt like her attention was elsewhere—on something more personal. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but Alhaitham couldn’t shake the feeling that she was aware of him watching, that she knew he was there. As if the connection they had in that first private session hadn’t been fleeting.

And when she finally glanced at the camera, eyes half-lidded, her fingers trailing lower over the soft fabric of her lingerie, something snapped in him.

Before he could stop himself, he sent a request for a private session. The notification appeared on her screen, and her lips curled into a small, knowing smile. She accepted immediately, and the screen shifted, blocking out the rest of the audience until it was just the two of them.

The atmosphere was different this time—heavier, charged with an unspoken tension. She didn’t waste time with pleasantries, her fingers moving with more intent, a soft hum escaping her lips as she settled into the space they now shared. Alhaitham’s eyes followed every movement, the heat building inside him impossible to ignore now.

“Enjoying yourself tonight?” she asked, her voice low and sultry, though there was a flicker of genuine curiosity behind her words.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry as his nimble fingers typed a response.

User1102: You could say that.

Her lips parted in a slow smile as her hands continued their path across her body, teasing the lace of her lingerie aside just enough to reveal more of her soft skin. “You seem… different tonight.”

Alhaitham's fingers tightened around the edge of his desk. He wasn’t sure what she meant by that, but she wasn’t wrong. There was something about tonight, about her, that had shifted. Maybe it was the soft glow of her room, or the way the pink fabric contrasted against her skin. Maybe it was the knowledge that this moment was private, just between the two of them, that made everything feel more… intimate. More real.

He watched, entranced, as she slipped her hand lower, her breath hitching slightly. His pulse quickened, the tension in his body almost unbearable now. He could feel his own restraint slipping, the lines he had drawn for himself blurring.

This wasn’t just curiosity anymore. This was something else entirely.

His fingers quickly typed up a response, his breath already shallow as his eyes lingered at the top of her supple breasts.

Alhaitham didn't know what to feel but the feeling of his cock already straining against his pants, he's about to get his money's worth.

He was shirtless already due to the warm summer but he was already racking

up a cold sweat, he unbuttons his pants and pulls out his cock, hissing as it throbs at the sight of her in lingerie.

User1102: why don't you surprise me today, take control.

Her eyes glistened at his reply as she giggled. Her hand reaching out behind her as Alhaitham’s eyes widen.

"Fuck" He groans out, body shuddering at the large dildo she had in her hand. Her eyes flickering from the camera to the dildo as her lips trailed along the length of it sensual.

He watched with keen eyes as she brought the dildo down to her puffy pussy, juice already leaking from the hole— so much that she didn't even need lube to lubricate the dildo.

Alhaitham’s fist wrapped loosely around his hard cock, the veins pulsating against his hand as his brain became foggy.

He watched as she slowly pushed the tip inside of her, her pussy clenching tightly at the tip a high pitch moan escapes passed her parted gloss lips. Alhaitham's hand glided up his cock and to the tip as he squeezed it, imagining it was his big cock pushing through her tiny pussy.

He mimicked her pussy with his hand, imagining how tight she must be as she slowly pushed the dildo inside of her. Her thighs shaking, sweating glistening on them as she quickly reached down with her other hand to play with her puffy clit.

Alhaitham reached out with his one hand to type in a response as his cock was pulsating in his fist.

She was waiting for his next command even though he gave her the green light to do her own things.

User1102: such a good bunny. Such a good girl for me. Your pussy looks so stuffed, wished it was my cock in their instead.

Her eyes skimmed through the message, a messy moan leaves her mouth as she moves the dildo in her , a sloppy sound being her.

"I w-wish it was your cock. F-feels so good, would feel so much better if it was your thick cock in me-ahh" her words came out in a moan at the end as Alhaitham started moving his fist tightly on his cock to match the rhythm of her moving the dildo in her.

If he was there, he would move much faster. Pound her tight pussy until she was overflowing with his cum.

you’re so pretty, cheeks flushed and lips parting into the perfect orgasm face as your shaking arm reaches for your clit, eyes so hooded that you can barely see the screen in front of you.

Alhaitham’s hand pumps his cock a little faster, following the rough and fast circles you’re subjecting your aching clit to. He allows himself to groan loudly, gripping the arm of the chair as he thrusts up into his hand, pre-cum spilling over his shaft.

your high pitched moans are music to his ears and the twitching of your legs are proof of the pleasure that he’s indirectly causing.

your head’s thrown back, exposing your neck as your hips roll against the dildo, juices from your cunt sliding down your ass as it drenches the sheets below you.

“s-sir please! can i cum? please let me cum! i’ve been a good girl!”

tingles run down Alhaitham's spine as he hears your whiny voice beg.

His hand reaches out to type a quick response as his other furiously jerks his pulsating cock.

User1102: cum for me.

The chair creaking as he fucks his hand and your eyes scan the chat, you pinch your clit and scream, body convulsing as you cum all over the dildo.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck! i’m cumming !” you wail, back arching off the bed. your body stiffens at the uncomfortable position as a stream of clear liquid shoots out of your pussy, drenching your soiled sheets even more.

Alhaitham follows suit, moaning as white spurts of cum shoot out of his cock, staining his thighs and abs. eyes dark and mind hazy from his orgasm, your eyes are heavy and lidded when you sit up, chest heaving and nipples aching as the toy slowly leaves your pussy, whining as you feel your juices slide down your ass.

Alhaitham's eyes widen when you fumble around the dildo and pulled the toy that’s shining and glistening with your essence.

you put the wet and warm toy in your mouth, sucking and licking like you would on a real cock. Alhaitham groans, closing his eyes as he hears you moan, tasting yourself on the toy.

The sound going straight to his cock again as images start to form in his mind, imagining you doing that to him, choking on his cock before he grabs your hips, giving ut a squeeze and slaps your ass, entering your needy pussy in one hard thrust.

you practically crawl towards the laptop, eyes sultry and inviting before you pull the toy out of your mouth with a wet pop and throw a dazzling smile at the camera, as if you didn’t get ruined by a silicone cock a few moments before.

“i hope you enjoyed the show, sir. but i wish it was your real cock that made me cum and squirt like that.”

with one last wink to the camera, you end the stream.

Alhaitham body slumped on his chair, eyes staring at the blank laptop screen as his gaze fell above him on his ceiling. His breathing erratic as his gazes falls on his cock that had harden once again.

'Fuck'

Alhaitham stood at the entrance of the lecture hall, his usual calm exterior masking the storm of disbelief swirling inside him. His eyes scanned the room, moving over the rows of students until they landed on you. There you was—sitting in the back, casually leaning over your desk, looking as though you was about to drift off to sleep. You looked so different from the confident, alluring woman he'd been captivated by just last night, completely unaware of the private session that now hung heavy between them.

The sudden images of you sucking on the dildo flashed in his mind, your moan echoing in his head as he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep moving, though his steps felt heavier. His thoughts raced. How could this happen? Out of all the people who could have been sitting in his classroom, it had to be you—the woman who had unknowingly shaken him to his core.

Clearing his throat, he stood at the front of the room, addressing the class. “There will be a pop quiz today, ” he announced, his voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of tension. The class erupted into groans as he forced himself not to roll his eyes "you would know this if you saw the email last night and prepared."

“Old-fashioned, on paper.” Alhaitham also stated as he began handing out the papers, his focus was everywhere but where it should be. He moved down each row, handing out the sheets with mechanical precision, his gaze subtly darting toward the back where you sat, unbothered by the sudden quiz.

Reaching your row, he slowed. You was sitting at the end, your usual nonchalance etched on your face as you glanced at the blank paper. He handed the quiz to the student beside you, who passed it down until it reached you. But something within him made him pause.

He took a deep breath and stepped forward, holding the next sheet in his hand. As he approached you, your hands brushed—just for a moment, just enough to send a jolt of awareness through his entire body. Your skin was warm against his, and the contact sent an unexpected tingle up his arm. It was as if time froze, the casual touch sparking something deep inside him.

He pulled his hand back quickly, almost too quickly, and felt the weight of your gaze lift to him. He could feel the heat rise to his neck, but he kept moving, walking down the next row as if nothing had happened.

But something had changed.

Alhaitham sat at his desk, attempting to focus on the papers in front of him, but all he could think about was the feel of your skin brushing against his. His fingers still tingled, the sensation lingering in his mind far longer than it should have. He glanced up, watching as you lazily scribbled answers on your quiz, unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

He shook his head, mentally chastising himself.

' You’re her professor. This cannot happen.'

His gaze falls back on his laptop, an email from the Dean of the university had popped up. His eyes furrow to see that she would like to talk to him after his current lecture. An annoyed sigh escaping past his lips.

'Great. They problem want me to do something for them.'

And he was right.

Alhaitham leaned against the wall of the dean’s office, arms crossed, his mind a tumultuous storm of conflicting thoughts. Rukkhadevata sat across from him, a knowing look in her eyes as she shuffled through a few papers on her desk. The room was adorned with academic awards and a bookshelf brimming with scholarly texts, giving it an air of seriousness and authority.

“Alhaitham, I appreciate you coming by on such short notice,” she began, her voice calm and inviting. “I wanted to discuss an opportunity for a student who’s expressed a keen interest in linguistics and academia.”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued yet wary. “Who is it?” he asked, though he already felt the shadows of doubt creeping in.

“Her name is [Your Name]. She’s in her fourth year, and I believe she could greatly benefit from shadowing you during your afternoon lectures with the first-year students.” Rukkhadevata paused, observing his reaction.

Alhaitham's brows scrunched in thought, he had heard the name a few times from other professors and also knows he has someone named that in his class but he don’t know how that person looks.

“I see,” he replied,, dryly. “But does she have the necessary background to assist? I teach advanced concepts that require a solid foundation.”

Rukkhadevata nodded, her expression resolute. “She’s demonstrated exceptional aptitude in her studies, particularly in linguistics. This experience could be pivotal for her. You know as well as I do that sometimes, a little guidance can ignite a passion for research and teaching in a student.”

Alhaitham contemplated her words, it would be a good learning ground for him to. Understanding the mind of a student and how they think when teaching a lecture but also it means his personal time in his office will be cut short as the student will need to shadow him.

“What if I’m not comfortable with the arrangement? There are other professors who can take her on,” he suggested, his tone more curt than intended.

“Alhaitham,” she replied, her voice steady and reassuring. “I understand your reservations, but I truly believe this is a unique opportunity for both of you. If you don’t take her on, there’s another professor, Tighnari, who would be more than willing to open the spot for her. He already has a student named Collei shadowing him but I don’t want her to miss out on this chance as you're qualified in the linguistics department.”

With a sigh, Alhaitham pushed himself off the wall “Very well,” he conceded, the words slipping out before he could fully process them. “I’ll take her on.”

“Great! I’ll inform her immediately. You’ll meet with her after her morning lectures, and we can discuss the schedule,” Rukkhadevata said, a pleased smile gracing her features.

As Alhaitham left her office, his mind drifted back to you. His mind in a turmoil not knowing what to do. How is going to lecture in a class knowing that he gets off to one of his students ?

The next day, Alhaitham sat at his desk, his eyes fixed on the clock as the minutes ticked by. Ten minutes late. His jaw clenched slightly. He didn’t tolerate lateness, especially not from someone who was supposed to shadow him. He hated wasted time, and this student had already made a poor impression.

Just as he was about to rise from his chair to leave the office to attend to other matters, the door creaked open. His irritation sharpened, but as the door swung wide, his thoughts ground to a halt.

His eyes widened as he realized you were standing in the doorway.

You walked into the room, slightly out of breath, looking a bit flustered. At first, it was just shock. Of all the students, of all the people—it was you, the cam girl he'd been watching for a month, the same girl who had held his attention in ways he couldn’t quite understand. Seeing you here, in front of him, outside of the screen and now close up, was a jarring collision of his two worlds.

For a moment, he was silent, his gaze trailing over you. You looked different in person, softer maybe, but still just as striking. His eyes flicked to the way your hair framed your face, the way you nervously shifted from foot to foot. But then reality hit him like a cold wave. You were here, standing in his office, his student.

He quickly masked his shock, his expression hardening. “You’re late,” he said, his voice colder than he intended, almost biting. “Ten minutes late.”

You blinked, clearly not expecting the harsh tone. “I’m sorry—I got a little lost.”

He let out a small, frustrated breath, trying to gather himself. “Being lost isn’t an excuse. If you’re going to shadow me, I expect punctuality. I don’t tolerate tardiness.”

You nodded, looking slightly out of place, like you weren’t sure where to stand or what to do with your hands. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

He glanced at you again, his mind still whirling. He couldn’t believe it. The girl he had been watching from behind the safety of a screen, whose cam sessions had been a guilty distraction late at night, was standing right in front of him. And you had no idea who he was other than being your professor.

“Your name is Y/N, correct?” He forced his voice to remain steady, trying to push aside the surreal nature of this situation.

“Yes,” you answered, shifting under his gaze.

“Good,” he muttered, his hand tightening around the edge of his desk. He had to regain control of this conversation—this situation. He couldn’t afford to be distracted by you, not now, not ever. “We’ll start tomorrow. You’ll shadow me throughout the day. I’ll send you your schedule later.”

You nodded again, still looking somewhat nervous, and something about it tugged at him, though he immediately pushed the thought away.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain some normalcy in the moment. But the tension lingered, thick in the air. You noticed, of course, the subtle way he shifted, his eyes darting away from yours as if trying to hide something.

“Are you alright?” you asked softly, your concern genuine, though you had no idea why he was acting this way.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, but then, catching himself, he softened his tone. “I’m fine. That will be all.”

You looked like you were about to say something more, but instead, you simply nodded and turned to leave.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind you, Alhaitham leaned back in his chair, letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. His mind raced. He had thought about assigning you to someone else—maybe Tighnari—but now that idea seemed impossible. The thought of someone else mentoring you made him feel… unsettled. No, he would have to handle this himself, regardless of how difficult it might become.

He closed his eyes, letting the quiet of the room wash over him. Tomorrow, he would have to keep his distance, keep things professional. But even now, your face lingered in his mind, and he knew it wouldn’t be as simple as he hoped.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It was the first day, and you were already regretting being assigned to shadow Professor Alhaitham. After how he had embarrassed you for being late for class and yesterday, you dreaded the idea of spending more time with him. He was a sharp-tongued, cold-hearted ass, but you couldn’t afford to pass up this opportunity. Shadowing him would be invaluable for your studies, even if his attitude grated on your nerves.

You glanced at your watch. It was almost 1 p.m., the time for Alhaitham’s first-year lecture. With a sigh, you reached into your bag and pulled out a compact mirror and lipstick, deciding to retouch it before the lecture started. As you carefully applied the soft shade to your lips, the reflection in the mirror shifted, and you caught sight of him standing at the doorway, staring at you.

Heat rushed to your face, and your hand paused mid-swipe. You could feel his gaze burning into you, intense and unwavering. His eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes in the mirror, and you quickly snapped the compact shut, turning around to face him with a flustered expression.

Alhaitham didn’t miss a beat. “I’m not sure why you’re putting on lipstick right before a lecture,” he remarked, his voice smooth but laced with the kind of dry sarcasm that left you unsure whether it was meant to insult or simply observe. “It’s not like that will help you retain the content better.”

Your blush deepened at the jab, but there was no real malice in his tone. It was just his way. You pursed your lips slightly, resisting the urge to snap back, instead choosing to stay silent. He crossed the room with that same calm, collected air he always had, handing you a stack of papers.

“You’ll need these,” he said, his tone shifting back to business. “I’m giving them a quiz—similar to what I did with your class the other day. After the lecture, you’ll stay back and mark them with me.”

You stared at the stack of papers in your hand, feeling the weight of both the physical and mental load. The thought of sitting with him after school, going through these quizzes together, made you groan under your breath, though not loud enough for him to hear clearly. The last thing you wanted was to spend more time than necessary with him, especially after his cold remarks the day before.

He raised an eyebrow at your reaction but didn’t comment, his expression unreadable. “Complaining won’t make the work go away,” he said mildly, as if already expecting your frustration. “Better get used to it.”

You forced a small smile and nodded, begrudgingly accepting your fate. There was no point arguing. You had signed up for this, after all.

As you followed Alhaitham into the lecture hall, the low hum of students settling into their seats filled the room. You tried not to think about how you’d have to sit with him for hours after school, marking these quizzes. The thought was frustrating, but you kept reminding yourself it was just part of the process. You could handle this.

You settled yourself at the front of the room, laying the stack of quizzes on the desk. Alhaitham began the lecture with his usual confidence, pacing in front of the first-years as he spoke. His voice was steady and sure, effortlessly commanding the room’s attention. It was infuriating how composed he always seemed, never faltering, never showing the slightest hint of emotion beyond his cool detachment.

You found yourself staring at him again, and it annoyed you. How could someone be so frustratingly perfect? His words flowed perfectly, understandable yet his aloofness made it difficult to even like him. It didn’t help that his eyes flickered in your direction occasionally, almost as if he was checking to see if you were paying attention.

Halfway through the lecture, he handed you the quizzes to distribute. You moved through the rows of students, handing them out with a forced smile. Some students gave you sympathetic looks, clearly sensing you were stuck with the task of marking them all later.

As the lecture ended, the bustling sounds of students leaving the hall began to die down. You stood at the back, waiting for the right moment to catch up to Alhaitham. Your fingers drummed nervously on the edge of your notebook, replaying the conversation from earlier in the day. You are stuck with him for the rest of the semester, shadowing his every move as part of the research assistantship you needed for your degree.

He’d embarrassed you once already, calling you out in front of the class on the first day for being late. Now, even though you couldn’t stand his arrogance, you couldn’t afford to let this opportunity go. The problem was, he knew that too. You saw it in his eyes when he handed you those quizzes earlier. There was something so self-assured about him, a smugness that made your blood boil. But still, he had that quiet, undeniable intelligence about him that, annoyingly enough, you found yourself drawn to.

By the time you reached his office, the sun had begun its descent, casting the room in a warm golden hue. Alhaitham's office exudes elegance and order. A polished mahogany table sits at the center, topped with a laptop, a pen, and leather-bound notebooks. Behind it, a high-backed leather chair adds authority and another simpler chair was seat across his table. Floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books and files line the walls, matching the table’s dark wood. Soft light filters through a large window, highlighting a plush Persian rug beneath. A corner features two leather armchairs and a small coffee table, perfect for meetings, while subtle luxuries and framed art complete the space’s refined atmosphere.

Alhaitham's office mirrors his sharp, organized mind—sophisticated, orderly, and rich with knowledge.

He motioned for you to sit down, his gaze lingering on you as you did.

“here is the quizzes for you to mark. Atleast today you start off with something light.” he said, handing you a fresh stack of papers, his fingers brushing yours again as they had earlier. A small, unintentional jolt of electricity ran up your arm from the brief contact, and you quickly withdrew your hand, focusing on the task in front of you. You tried to ignore the way his presence loomed across the desk, calm but somehow intense.

As you started marking, the silence between you grew thicker. It wasn’t the kind of silence that brought comfort—it felt like there was something unspoken, hanging heavy in the air between you. Every once in a while, you could feel his gaze shift toward you, studying you before returning to his own stack of papers. You nibbled on your bottom lip absentmindedly, concentrating on the quiz in front of you, when you felt it again—his eyes on you.

You looked up, catching him staring at you. His expression was unreadable, but there was a moment, a flicker of something in his eyes, before he quickly looked away. Your heart skipped a beat, your lips parting in surprise. What was going on with him?

After a few moments, he broke the silence. "Grab that book for me, will you?" He pointed to a high shelf behind you, his voice cool and even as ever.

You stood, walking over to the shelf and craning your neck to reach the book he’d indicated. It was too high, and as you stretched up on your tiptoes, your skirt began to lift slightly. You felt a twinge of annoyance as your fingers just barely grazed the edge of the book.

Behind you, Alhaitham remained silent, but unbeknownst to you, his eyes were locked on your figure. He couldn’t help but notice the way your skirt rode up slightly, revealing the plump of your tighs, those exact same thighs that were squeezed into tight sheer stockings, with liquid from your greedy pussy soaking them. He clenched his jaw, his thoughts racing despite himself. His mind wandering just how soft those thighs would feel arpund his head, squeezing him as he gets to feast on your pussy.

He had to keep it together.

Finally, you gave up with a sigh, your arm dropping back to your side. Without a word, Alhaitham stood up and walked over to you, his tall frame easily reaching the book that had eluded you.

"If you’re going to struggle, at least do it more efficiently," he muttered, the words laced with a faint edge of amusement.

You scowled at him. "You could have just taken the book yourself," you replied, trying to mask your irritation. His words weren’t exactly harsh, but there was always that intellectual superiority in his tone that grated on you.

He had a subtle smirk graced upon his lips "from what I've heard, my mentee should be hands down and do anything I ask." His voice putting more emphasis on 'anything I ask' his light turquoise eyes stare at you, something hidden behind the light glaze in them. You quickly look away, a red coat of blush on your cheeks as you walked back to the desk.

After you both settled back into marking the quizzes, the soft scratching of pens filled the small office space. It was quiet, but the air between you still buzzed with unspoken tension. You tried to focus on grading the papers, but your mind kept wandering to him—his presence just across the desk, the way his gaze sometimes lingered a little too long.

You were halfway through another quiz when a shadow loomed over you. Alhaitham had stood up and moved around the desk, coming to stand right behind you. His tall frame towered over your seated position, and you froze, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. The subtle scent of his cologne—clean, earthy, with a hint of something spicy—washed over you, clouding your mind and making it difficult to focus on the paper in front of you.

"Why do you think this answer is wrong?" he asked, leaning down slightly, his voice low and calm but close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath near your ear.

Your heart skipped a beat, and for a second, you forgot how to speak. You glanced at the paper, trying to recall what you had marked incorrectly, but the heat radiating from his body and the soft scent of his skin distracted you completely. The closeness of him was overwhelming—his presence, his scent—it all clouded your thoughts until you had to force yourself to snap back into the present.

"Uh… they got the concept of phonetics mixed up with phonology," you stammered, swallowing nervously. "Phonetics is about the sounds themselves, while phonology is about how those sounds function in particular languages."

Alhaitham said nothing for a moment, just staying there, hovering behind you. His proximity made your pulse race, and you could feel the warmth of his body just inches from yours. He leaned in a little more, his fingers tracing the lines of the quiz. Your heart was hammering now, and you cursed yourself for letting your mind wander so much.

"Good," he finally said, straightening back up and, to your surprise, gently patting your head.

The simple, unexpected gesture sent a rush of warmth straight to your cheeks. Your heart fluttered, and you were sure your face had gone bright red. You bit your lip, willing yourself to stay composed, but your thoughts betrayed you. The small pat—so casual, almost paternal—made your mind spin in ways you didn’t expect.

As he moved back to his seat, you sat there for a moment, frozen in place. You couldn’t help but think about how his hand had felt, the gentle pressure on your head, and the surprising warmth it brought. You shook your head, forcing yourself to focus again, but the thought lingered. What if he patted your head every time you gave the right answer?

The idea was ridiculous, but it made your heart race anyway. You could feel the heat rising to your face again, and you had to fight the urge to look at him. You wondered if he noticed how flustered you were, but when you glanced over at him, he was already back to grading, his expression unreadable, as always.

Keep it together, you scolded yourself. This was your professor, and you had to maintain some level of professionalism. But a tiny part of you—the part that was growing more curious about him by the minute—couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he had noticed your blush.

After the marking, Alhaitham stood up again, gesturing for you to follow him as he headed to his bookshelf. You were still dazed from earlier, but you followed him. He asked you to grab a specific book from the top shelf, but again, it was just out of your reach. You stretched as far as you could, the hem of your skirt lifting slightly as you did. You could feel his eyes on you again, a little more intense this time.

He stepped forward, his presence suddenly looming behind you once more. His hand brushed yours as he reached up easily to retrieve the book. He didn’t say anything at first, but as he handed it to you, his lips quirked into a small, barely-there smirk.

"Struggling again, I see," he muttered, the words laced with that same intellectual superiority you’d come to expect from him. It wasn’t exactly mean, but it stung enough to make your cheeks burn.

You huffed quietly, taking the book from him and returning to your seat. You could feel his gaze lingering on you as he walked back to his desk, but you refused to meet his eyes, determined to ignore the strange tension that had only grown stronger between you.

The marking continued, but your focus was slipping. You kept sneaking glances at him, noticing the small things—how his fingers moved deftly over the papers, how his jaw tensed slightly when he was deep in thought. And then, there were those moments when his eyes would flick to your lips, just for a second, before he quickly looked away.

You absentmindedly nibbled on your bottom lip, a nervous habit you’d had for years, but this time, when you caught him staring at you, his gaze lingered a little too long. His eyes traced the movement of your lips, and for a brief second, something flickered in his expression. He quickly shook his head, as if clearing his mind, and returned to his work.

By the time you finished, the sun had set completely, and the warm glow from the office lamps cast a soft light over the room. Alhaitham glanced at the clock, his usual calm demeanor slipping back into place.

"It’s nearly past 5," he said, standing up and gathering his papers. "You’re dismissed."

You exhaled a sigh of relief, standing and grabbing your bag. As much as you had been dreading this day, it had passed more smoothly than you expected, though it had left you with far more questions than answers. There was something about him, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You just couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between you.

As you both stepped outside, the cool evening air hit you, much cooler than you had anticipated. You rubbed your arms, feeling the chill sink in, and muttered under your breath, "Strange how chilly it’s gotten, even though it’s still summer."

Alhaitham paused, glancing over at you before shrugging off his coat. He held it out to you, his expression unreadable.

"Here," he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

You blinked in surprise. "I’m fine, really. I don’t need—"

"Take it," he interrupted, his gaze steady.

After a moment’s hesitation, you took the coat, wrapping it around yourself. It was far too big on you, but it was warm, and the subtle scent of him clung to the fabric. The same scent that had distracted you earlier in his office now enveloped you completely, and it made your heart race all over again.

"Thanks," you mumbled, adjusting the coat around your shoulders.

He simply nodded, and the two of you continued walking in silence. The tension between you had shifted, but it was still there, just beneath the surface, and as you parted ways at the end of the path, you couldn’t help but wonder—was he thinking about you the way you were thinking about him? Did he know?

As you watched him walk away, the weight of his coat on your shoulders felt heavier than it should, like it carried with it all the unspoken words and lingering tension between you.

As you walk home, the weight of Alhaitham's coat feels heavier than it should, not just physically, but emotionally. The warmth still clings to you, along with that subtle, distinct scent that belongs to him—earthy, clean, and with just a hint of spice. It feels oddly intimate, like a lingering piece of him you hadn't expected to carry home with you. Each step you take, wrapped in his coat, makes you more aware of its significance. It’s just a piece of fabric, but the way it rests on your shoulders, warm and protective, makes it feel like more than that.

When you finally reach your apartment, you sigh, pulling the keys from your bag. Inside, you place the bag of takeout on the table with little care, too tired and too distracted to do anything but collapse for a moment. You peel off the coat, draping it on the couch, and immediately feel the loss of warmth as it leaves your shoulders. For a brief moment, you consider folding it neatly, but instead, you leave it there, trying to detach yourself from the way your thoughts kept wandering to him—your arrogant, handsome professor.

You settle at the table, opening the takeout container as your mind drifts back to the way he had looked at you earlier in his office. That gaze of his—intense, intelligent, and just a little too observant—had lingered far too long. You shake your head, trying to focus on eating, but it’s impossible. His voice, his presence, the feeling of his hand patting your head—it all keeps pulling you back.

You finish eating faster than usual, your thoughts occupied with him the entire time. As you pick up the coat from the couch to take it to your room, you catch a whiff of his scent again. You freeze, the familiar scent sending your mind spiraling into thoughts you shouldn’t be having. Images flash through your mind—his tall, strong build, the way he had stood so close behind you, his fingers brushing yours when you reached for that book. The fog of those inappropriate thoughts clouds your mind, and for a brief moment, you can’t stop wondering what it would feel like to be closer to him, how he looked under that dress shirt he wore today.

Shaking your head quickly, you scold yourself, forcing those thoughts away as you hang the coat in your cupboard, making a mental note not to forget it tomorrow. You won’t let it cloud your judgment any further. You take a deep breath, pushing those thoughts out of your head as you begin getting ready for your cam session.

As you're about to log in, your phone buzzes, pulling your attention away from the screen. You grab it, expecting some usual notification, but your eyes widen slightly when you see the message is from Alhaitham. You hadn’t even realized he had your number—until now.

Alhaitham: I got your number from the system. You’ll need to make a vocabulary list for the first-year lecture tomorrow. I’ve attached some resources to help. Be sure to finish this before class.

You groan, dropping your phone onto the bed. Of course, he’d send you more work just when you were about to start your cam session. You sigh deeply, throwing yourself back onto the bed and staring at the ceiling. There’s no avoiding it—he's your professor, and as much as he irritates you with his superior attitude, you can't ignore his requests.

Sitting up, you rub your temples and switch gears, deciding to get the task done first. As much as you’d rather jump into your session, you can’t afford to leave it undone. You spend the next hour or so compiling the list, working through the vocabulary terms as your mind buzzes with thoughts of how annoyingly persistent Alhaitham is. He always seems to know just when to give you extra work, like he's testing your patience on purpose.

By the time you finally finish, it’s much later than you'd planned.

You noticed something different as you scrolled through your cam site, a sinking feeling settling in your chest. User1102 didn’t show up tonight. In fact, he hadn’t for the past few nights. A wave of disappointment washed over you, though you weren’t sure why it bothered you so much. It wasn’t like you knew who he was. But still, he had always been there, watching, engaging, giving you a sense of consistency. Now, his absence felt louder than the other users’ presence, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange sadness.

Shaking off the thought, you closed your laptop and leaned back. It was just a coincidence, right? People came and went all the time on these sites. But as you prepared for bed, you found your mind wandering to him—wondering why he wasn’t there, wondering who he really was. Little did you know, Alhaitham had been avoiding the site ever since the first lecture.

It has now been nearly two weeks. From those two weeks you only spent about 6 days after lessons in his office helping with filling forms. You had gotten used to your routine with your professor, he gives you work to do, you do it and if he feels 'generous' he gives you a thick stack of papers to mark, now handing you long essays that make your brain ache.

You noted that there was still an awkward tension between the two of you, he seemed to want to avoid you as much as possible. When you are alone with him, he would sit far from you but you could feel his sharp eyes on you from time to time.

One of the days you wore a short skirt, the skirt was going to shorten Alhaitham's life. It showed your supple thighs, a pen fell. Cliché but you of course had to bend down to pick the pen in front of your poor professor who caught sight of your pure white cotton underwear.

This lead to him dismissing you harshly to go home early. Poor little you thought you did something wrong, so the next day you went to apologize to him for anything you had done to annoy him, this caused the arrogant professor's heart to skip a beat, from that day on he started to talk to you in a calm tone. Alhaitham noticed you thrived on praises.

He once slipped and had called you a 'good girl' and gave your head a gentle pat, when you had completed a whole pile of essays, each one checked properly. Your face turned a pretty shade of pink.

The words "t-thank you professor" stumbling out of your plump lips, this left Alhaitham's imagination to go wild that night, jerking off to his sweet student, who has such an innocent facade when she is fully clothed but when she is bathed in the LED lights of her room and wearing a sheer outfit..the innocence long gone.

Alhaitham however, did stop watching her session as much as it pained him but he felt guilty to watch you now, knowing that you're his student and he is your professor..however the idea of bending you on the very desk the both of you shared always crosses his mind.

It was the end of another long day, and you were packing up the last of your things in Alhaitham's office when you noticed the rain pouring outside, drumming steadily against the windows. The thought of walking home in that downpour made you shiver, and to make matters worse, you had forgotten your jacket. Again.

As you stood there, awkwardly rubbing your arms for warmth, Alhaitham appeared in the doorway. His expression was, as usual, unreadable, but his sharp eyes quickly assessed the situation.

“You forgot your jacket again,” he observed, his voice low and calm.

You gave a sheepish nod, not bothering to deny it. “Yeah, seems to be a habit at this point.”

Without a word, he slipped off his coat—the one he always wore that made him seem so imposing—and handed it to you. The fabric was still warm from his body, the faint smell of his cologne lingering on it. You hesitated for a moment, but the cold air persuaded you to accept it gratefully.

“Thanks,” you murmured, slipping the jacket over your shoulders. It was far too big, enveloping you in its warmth.

He stepped back slightly, his eyes lingering on you, though his face remained stoic. “You shouldn’t walk in the rain like this. I’ll drive you home.”

You blinked in surprise. “You don’t have to—”

“I insist,” he interrupted, already making his way towards the door.You reluctantly, following him, it was clear he wasn’t letting you walk in the rain tonight.

Outside, the rain had picked up, and you were more than a little relieved that Alhaitham had offered a ride. But what you hadn’t expected was the sleek black sports car waiting for you in the lot. Your eyes widened as he unlocked the doors with a soft click.

“This is your car?” you asked, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice.

“Yes,” he replied simply, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

You slid into the passenger seat, feeling slightly out of place in such an expensive, low-riding car. The leather seats were cool against your skin, and the interior was immaculate. Alhaitham climbed in beside you, starting the engine with a soft purr. The sound sent a shiver through you, though you weren’t sure if it was the car or just the fact that you were sitting so close to him.

As he drove, you couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly he handled the car. His hands gripped the steering wheel with a practiced ease, and his posture was relaxed, but there was a certain control in every movement. You found yourself stealing glances at him, your heart fluttering in a way that felt all too unfamiliar. The rain blurred the world outside, making the inside of the car feel small, intimate.

Your thoughts began to wander, and before you could stop them, you found yourself admiring the way his hair fell slightly over his forehead, the sharp line of his jaw, the way his eyes stayed focused on the road with that quiet intensity he always had. Everything about him seemed so… controlled, so perfect.

You bit your lip, trying to push the thoughts away. This was your professor, after all. But it was hard to ignore the way your heart sped up each time you caught a glimpse of him.

As if sensing your gaze, he cleared his throat, his eyes never leaving the road. “You’re quiet.”

You blinked, feeling caught. “Oh, sorry. Just… thinking.”

“About?” he asked, though his tone didn’t push for an answer.

“Nothing important,” you mumbled, feeling your face grow warm.

The silence returned, heavy with tension, and you found yourself growing more aware of how small you felt in his car. Every bump in the road seemed to jolt your heart, especially with the way he drove—smooth, fast, and with a precision that made you feel oddly vulnerable.

Finally, he pulled up outside your apartment building. T.he downpour was relentless, heavy raindrops hammering against the sleek black car as you sat next to Alhaitham. The windscreen wipers were moving fast, but it was as if the rain refused to let up, trapping you both in the warmth of the vehicle.

You glanced outside, watching the rain blur the streetlights into hazy orbs of light. "I guess I should go," you murmured, though you didn’t make any move to open the door.

Alhaitham's hand remained on the steering wheel, his eyes focused on the rain. "Wait," he said, his voice calm but firm. "It's coming down too hard. You’ll be drenched in seconds."

You looked at him, startled by his concern. His expression was unreadable as always, but there was something about the way his gaze softened as it shifted from the rain to you. The inside of the car felt too small suddenly, the air charged with something more than just the weather outside.

"You're right," you agreed quietly, settling back into the seat, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The silence stretched between you, the sound of rain enveloping the car in a bubble of quiet tension.

After a few moments, Alhaitham spoke, his voice breaking through the soft patter of the storm. "You don’t mind waiting, do you?"

You shook your head. "No… not at all."

His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he looked out at the rain again. "I’ve never really liked storms," he confessed. "Too unpredictable. But I guess that’s what makes them interesting, isn’t it?"

The unexpected admission surprised you. Alhaitham was always so composed, always so in control. Hearing him speak of unpredictability was strange, almost like he was revealing a part of himself he usually kept hidden.

"I suppose," you replied, your voice softer now, feeling the undercurrent of something deeper. "But sometimes, unpredictability can be… exciting."

His eyes flicked to yours, something unreadable passing through them. "Exciting?"

You swallowed hard, feeling the intensity of his gaze. "Yeah. It keeps things from becoming too… predictable."

The corners of his lips lifted slightly, a barely-there smile, but it sent a rush of warmth through you. His hand shifted on the gearstick, fingers brushing lightly against yours as you moved to rest your hand on your lap. The touch was so fleeting, so subtle, yet it made your pulse quicken.

"What about you?" he asked, his voice low. "Do you like storms?"

You hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware of every movement, every breath. "I… don’t mind them. I think they can be beautiful. Powerful."

He nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. "Powerful, yes."

There was a pause, and then he added, "But dangerous too."

You felt the weight of his words, the way they seemed to carry a deeper meaning, one that made your heart pound in your chest. The rain continued to pour, but the world outside felt distant, irrelevant. All that mattered was the man sitting beside you, his voice, his presence.

"I guess," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "there’s beauty in danger too."

His eyes darkened slightly, his jaw tightening as if your words struck something within him. He didn’t say anything for a long moment, the air between you charged with an almost unbearable tension.

"You have a unique way of looking at things," he said finally, his voice so low it sent a shiver down your spine. "I’ve noticed that about you."

You blinked, feeling your cheeks heat up at the compliment. "Oh… I—thank you."

The rain began to lighten, the heavy downpour turning into a soft drizzle. Alhaitham shifted in his seat, but he didn’t start the car. Instead, his eyes remained on you, as if searching for something in your expression.

"Why are you always walking in the rain without a coat?" he asked, his tone almost teasing now. "You’ll catch a cold one day."

He was referring to the few mornings you entered lectures soaking like a drowned rat, either the coat your wore just got soaked completely through or you were rushing and forgot half of yourself back at home.

You let out a small laugh, though your heart was still pounding. "I… don’t know. I guess I never really think about it. Besides, it’s not that bad."

He raised an eyebrow. "Not that bad? You’re soaked every time."

You shrugged, trying to play it off, but the way he was looking at you made your mind fuzzy. "Maybe I like the rain."

His lips quirked again, and he reached for the coat you he let you borrow before. "Keep it," he said, draping it over your lap again, the fabric warm from his touch. "I’d rather not see you walking around soaked again."

You stared at the coat, your throat tightening. His jacket smelled faintly of him, a comforting, subtle scent. Your fingers gripped the edges of the fabric, feeling overwhelmed by the simple act of kindness.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft patter of rain.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, watching you for a moment longer before speaking again, his voice soft but filled with an intensity that made your heart race.

"You look good in it," he said, his eyes lingering on you in a way that made your cheeks flush.

Your breath caught, heat flooding your face. You tried to laugh it off, but the way he was looking at you made it impossible to think straight. "I—uh, thanks."

The rain had slowed to a light drizzle now, but neither of you moved to leave the car. The tension in the air was thick, almost suffocating, yet you didn’t want it to end. The closeness, the warmth—it was too intoxicating.

Finally, you cleared your throat, trying to break the spell. "I guess… I should go."

Alhaitham nodded, but before you could open the door, his voice stopped you. "Goodnight," he said, his tone softer than you had ever heard it. "And… be careful."

That did it. You felt your face heat up instantly, the blush spreading like wildfire across your cheeks. You couldn’t even look at him, your fingers clutching the coat tighter as you fumbled for the door handle but you sucked in a breath and turned to look at him, your heart pounding in your chest. "Goodnight… Alhaitham," you whispered, using his name for the first time.

The way his eyes flickered at the sound of his name on your lips made your stomach flip, but you quickly slipped out of the car before you could lose your nerve and correct yourself. You hurried towards your apartment, the drizzle cooling your flushed cheeks, but your thoughts were spinning.

As you walked toward your apartment, your heart pounded in your chest, every step making you more flustered. You could feel his eyes on you still, even with your back turned. When you finally reached the stairs, you hesitated, glancing back. His car was still there, the engine quietly humming, headlights cutting through the rain.

He was waiting.

You quickly turned back around, your blush intensifying as you hurried up the stairs, fumbling with your keys. Once inside, you shut the door and leaned against it, breathless and heart racing.

He waited.

The thought made your head spin. Alhaitham—the cold, composed, seemingly distant professor—had waited to make sure you got inside safely. Your mind was racing, overwhelmed by the sudden realization that had been building for days, weeks even.

You had a massive crush on him.

Without even thinking, you peeped through the curtains, just in time to see him drive off into the night, his sleek car disappearing into the rain. You slid down to the floor, your face burning as you pressed your hands against your cheeks, trying to calm the dizzying flurry of emotions swirling inside you.

He’s so… You bit your lip, a small, giddy smile breaking through despite yourself. He’s such a gentleman.

Sitting there in the quiet of your apartment, wrapped in his coat, you couldn’t stop thinking about him—how impossibly perfect he seemed. You had no idea what this all meant, but one thing was certain: you were in deep.

Two days had passed since Alhaitham had dropped you off after that nerve-wracking yet thrilling encounter. Your heart still fluttered at the thought of him—both your professor and the enigmatic man who had captivated your attention in ways you never anticipated.

As you wrapped up your work in the office, the late afternoon sun cast a golden glow through the windows. You sorted through your notes, the soft rustle of paper providing a comforting background noise. Just as you were about to leave, you caught sight of Alhaitham leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, a relaxed smile on his face that sent a flutter through your stomach.

“[your name]” he called, his voice smooth and inviting, laced with an undertone of warmth. “Are you ready to head home? I can drop you off”

You glanced up, feeling your cheeks heat slightly. “No need, sir. I can manage on my own.”

His expression shifted, the corners of his mouth curving into a faint frown. “I’ve kept you late too often lately. It’s only fair that I take you home.”

A thousand thoughts raced through your mind, each one clouding your judgment. He’s your professor, you reminded yourself, a few years older than you and incredibly accomplished. Why would he want to spend time with someone like you? Surely he could find someone more suitable—someone his age, someone more… refined. But his persistence won out, and you found yourself nodding.

As you both stepped outside, the evening air was refreshingly cool. The slight breeze played with your hair as you walked side by side to his car, your hearts beating faster with the thrill of being alone together. The tension hung thick in the air, each shared glance igniting sparks between you.

“You’ve been a great help lately,” he began once the both of you entered the car, his tone light yet earnest. “I thought it would be nice to treat you to dinner. There’s a little place nearby that I think you’d enjoy.”

Your heart skipped at the thought. “You didn’t have to do that, Professor.”

He looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch. “I wanted to.”

The two of you arrived at the quaint little restaurant, a cozy atmosphere that felt intimate despite its bustling clientele. Alhaitham held the door open for you, and you slipped inside, feeling like a whirlwind of emotions. The soft chatter around you was comforting, but your focus remained on him.

Seated across from each other, you took a moment to appreciate how he looked in the warm light—his hair perfectly tousled, his sharp jawline accentuated by the soft glow. He was undeniably handsome, and it made you feel small in the best way possible. As he ordered a drink, you noticed the way his hands moved—confident, graceful, and somehow incredibly alluring.

When the server brought out your meals, Alhaitham’s knee brushed against yours, sending a shiver up your spine. You tried to play it cool, but you could feel the heat radiating from where your legs met. “Here,” he said, nudging a plate toward you. “You have to try this. It’s my favorite.”

You took a bite, and your eyes widened in surprise. “This is amazing!” you exclaimed, not realizing how close you were leaning over the table.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied, a small smile playing on his lips. “What about this? Have you tried it before?” He gestured to the dish in front of him, inviting you to share in the moment.

You both ended up sharing food, your hands brushing together as you reached for the same dish, an electric charge buzzing in the air between you. Every fleeting touch felt like a promise, igniting your heart and muddling your thoughts. As you took a sip of his beer, you grimaced at the bitter taste, wrinkling your nose in displeasure.

“This is horrible!” you laughed, unable to contain your reaction. “How do people drink this stuff?”

Alhaitham chuckled, a low, rich sound that sent butterflies flitting through your stomach. “Not everyone has your refined palate, apparently.” He raised an eyebrow, taking a sip from the same glass, unbothered by the lipstick stains you left behind.

Your heart raced at the implication, and for a moment, the world around you faded. Was this an indirect kiss? You felt dizzy, the beer mixing with the heat of the moment, leaving you in a haze. The air crackled with tension, and you found yourself leaning closer, your pinkies almost touching on the table.

As the evening progressed, you became more aware of the way you bumped shoulders while walking out of the restaurant, how his hand would occasionally brush against yours. You couldn’t help but think about how Alhaitham would make the perfect boyfriend. A man who was intelligent, considerate, and undeniably charming.

But you shook those thoughts away, reminding yourself of the reality: he was your professor, an accomplished linguist, and you were just a cam girl with secrets. Still, the way he looked at you—like you were the only person in the room—made your heart flutter, and you found it harder to resist the allure of what could be.

The drive to your apartment was a light hearted one as you reached your apartment building, Alhaitham paused, turning to face you. “Thank you for your help today, [Your name]. I appreciate it,” he said, his voice low and sincere.

“Thank you, Professor Alhaitham,” you replied, feeling a rush of warmth spread through you.

“Alhaitham is just fine,” he corrected softly, his gaze lingering on you.

With a nervous smile, you nodded, feeling like you were crossing some invisible line. “Alright, Alhaitham.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer than necessary.

“Goodnight,” you echoed, stepping back as you watched him turn to leave.

But as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, your heart raced, and your thoughts swirled with excitement and confusion. You peeked through the curtains and saw him still parked there, and your cheeks flushed at the thought of his caring presence as you watched the car start to leave and fade away into the distance.

With a heavy sigh, you sank to the floor, your back against the wall, your mind racing as you realized you had developed a big fat crush on your handsome linguistic professor.

That dinner had been a whirlwind of emotions, and just when you thought the evening would settle, reality hit you like a wave.

You glanced around your apartment, noticing the bills piled on your desk and the ever-present worry about your finances creeping back in. You sighed, frustration bubbling inside you. Money was running low, and you knew what that meant. You had to do a cam session tonight.

Reluctantly, you shuffled to your room and changed into your outfit. You picked out a set of teal lingerie, the fabric soft against your skin, accentuating your curves in a way that made you feel both confident and exposed. As you slipped into the delicate pieces, you caught your reflection in the mirror. The bold colour brought out the warmth in your skin, and for a moment, you felt beautiful.

You quickly set up your camera and adjusted the lighting, trying to create the perfect ambiance. The familiar rush of excitement and nerves tingled in your stomach as you prepared to go live. With one last deep breath, you clicked the button to start the stream, greeting your audience with a sultry smile.

Minutes passed, and you fell into your routine, losing yourself in the performance. You teased and interacted with your viewers, each comment igniting a spark within you. You knew the thrill of being seen, desired, and appreciated, even if it felt like a secret life hidden from everyone else.

Just as you started to really get into it, a notification popped up. You glanced at the screen, and your heart dropped.

User1102 has joined the stream.

You felt a familiar flutter of nerves in your stomach but brushed it aside, focusing on your performance.

You just wanted to do something simple tonight, quickly. You pushed the small fabric that covered your mound, your fingers immediately went below, rubbing slow circles along your clit as your other hand groped at your covered chest. You let your eyes flutter, the image of Alhaitham's half-lidded gaze falls on you, a soft moan leaving past your parted lips. Your mind remembering every detail of his fingers. Strong and thick. You inserted two fingers into your soaking cunt, imagining your professor's fingers sinking within you feeling your walls flutter against him. Your mind remembering the smell of him, the warmth he radiated, his fleeting touches and the way he stared at you. A sob mixed with a moan leaves past your lips, your back aching off the bed adding more to your pleasure.

His beautiful face came into view, you wondered how his tongue will feel agaisnt your neck, his large hands roaming your body, corrupting your body. The sudden image of you sprawled on his office desk came to mind, your fingers moving even faster, your sleek dripping onto the sheets, clit twitch as you squeezed your left breast Alhaitham's big hand squeezing it instead.

Then, without thinking, you let slip the words you never thought you’d say. “Ah, Pr-professor!” Your heart dropped as you realized what you had just said but your hand seemed to move faster, your toes curling in pleasure.

On the other side of the screen, Alhaitham’s eyes widened, shock and disbelief washing over him. He said he wasn't going to join your sessions again but tonight he was so allured by you, he missed you and wanted to see you again and just by luck you were live, but now hearing you call out his title made him groan, a mix of arousal and confusion coursing through him, his hand gripping tightly onto his cock as he starts to move his hand up and down fast, imagining that your tight hole was his hand instead.

The sight of you in that teal lingerie, completely lost in your own world, only fueled his desires. He had thought about you too many times since that dinner, and now, knowing you were unknowingly calling out to him while you were so vulnerable, his mind raced with conflicting emotions.

Your voice continued, unaware of the effect you were having on him. “I-I can’t help it… I need more.” You cried out, your thighs trembling from pleasure.

Alhaitham clenched his jaw, the tension building within him. The line between your two worlds had just blurred, and he found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions he never anticipated. Did you really see him as a professor, or was there something more there?

You finally looked up at the camera, your eyes making contact with his teal ones as if you knew he was watching you a shaky sob escapes past your lips.

"Alha-AHH" the words that wanted to leave your mouth got cut short as your screamed from the suddenly immense of pleasure your brought yourself, you squirted. The clear fluid drenching your sheets and thighs as your fingers still moved in you to ride off your high.

Alhaitham's eyes widen at the words that wanted to leave his mouth. Was you about to say his name ? This caused his red tip to explode with cum, his release coming down in thick blobs as it ran down his hand that still moved up and down his overstimulated dick, his eyes blurry, body sweating from the intensity of his orgasm, a lazy smile itched on his face. His hand slowly coming to a still, his eyes darken as he watches you pull your fingers out and lick them. Your breathing erratic as your mind was jumbled as you thought that you had came just at the mere thought of your professor—your feelings for him swirling panic coursing through your veins as you registered the thin line that now separated your real life from your hidden desires for him.

Alhaitham tapped in 1000$ and sent it to you, closing the stream with a final click. His eyes remained shadowed, and his heart pounded erratically.

Oh he can't wait to see you tomorrow.

Part 3

#al haitam x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham x female reader #alhaitham #alhaitham smut #genshin x you #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact alhaitham #alhaitham genshin #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader smut

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osachiyo · 1 year ago

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୨⍣୧ MEN WHO ! are big, buff and strong, being able to pick you up with ease. He could carry you around for hours, not breaking a sweat, flashing you a grin when you ask him if he's tired from carrying you all day. You were tiny in comparison to him, honestly any normal human being would be, and he fucking loved that.

He'd love the way he could tower over you, his shadow engulfing your whole frame. Loved the way he could manhandle you into any position he desired, be it pushing you up against the wall or folding you to a mating press. But if he had to choose his absolute favourite position, it would be putting you in a full nelson. His big arms hooked under your knees to hold them up as he destroyed your cunt. His cock barely even fit, stuffed in you like an overpacked sausage and you could see the slight bulge that appeared everytime he thrusted up, making him go fucking feral. He'd growl lowly next to your ear, "you enjoying this, fuckin' whore?" Your nails were digging into his forearms, leaving small red crescent marks behind as you tried your best to answer him. "yeah? did I fuck you dumb already? fuck— you're so pretty like this. such a pretty girl, hm? my pretty girl." Your eyes rolled back from his words, pussy clenching around him like a vice, making him let out a guttural noise. "shit, baby— ease up f'me," he groaned, rolling your clit between his fingers, trying to get you to loosen up. You could see your juices dripping down his cock, creating a puddle on the floor beneath you. If he'd feeling a bit mean, he'd stop thrusting midway and sit down on the couch behind him, still impaling you on his cock as he demands that you ride him. You would whine at his order, cheeks puffing and bottom lip jutted out into a pout as you try to give him your best puppy eyes. He'd only sigh and give your ass a nice slap before telling you to get to work. You'd huff out complaints before reluctantly lifting your hips before plopping back down on his cock, high pitched moans leaving your glossy lips as you tried your best. You could only do so much of of the work before the fat drops of tears slide down your cheek, "my thighs hurt, you're too big and 's too hard," you sniffled. He'd chuckle softly at that, patting your head and shushing you. He'd lift you up before slamming you down on his shaft, relishing in the way you squeal and kick your feet. "ah, my poor little baby, is fucking yourself on this cock too difficult for you? shh, don't cry. I've got you, sweet girl."

AL-HAITHAM, ITTO, zhongli, diluc, wriothesley, JING YUAN, SAMPO, TOJIIIIIIIIII, suguru, SUKUNA, lucifer, DIAVOLO, NIKOLAIIIIIIII & any of your faves ☆

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

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vivalabunbun · 9 months ago

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As We Are, We Will Be

Summary: A nonsensical question is proposed in one singular moment between a stoic and stoic face in one singular universe.

Word Count: 9k (It was supposed to be short and sweet-)

Tags: Alhaitham X Fem! Reader, Smut, NSFW, Fluff, a lot of fluff, slight angst, soulmate au, slow fic, established relationship, married life, Soft! Alhaitham, attempts at comedy, mentions of aging, slightly jealous! Alhaitham, mutual pinning, soft sex, vanilla, safe sex (wrap it up), riding (cowgirl), fingering, slow sex, making love, really bad expatiations of scientific theories and math, just two nerds in love.

Authors Note: Happy belated birthday and Valentine's Day to my favorite dendro nerd. A continuation of this piece, one I hold dear. A thought experiment based on nothing more than the feverish delirium of love.

It was just for a moment.

A mere pasting instance in the contentious momentum of time when a glimmer caught your eyes in the muddled chatter of a crowd, a silver shimmer like starlight.

Interrupting your contemplation as your eyes impulsively search for the source.

A late morning on a Saturday, the markets and stalls were lively with families replenishing a week's worth of groceries. Bodies veering and easing through the bustle of the busty streets.

The wide breadth of life that moved all around you. Like a collection of small dots within the vastness of a universe.

But amid the vast collection of blurry faces were the flicker of silvery locks refracting the late morning light. Originating from a pair, an elderly lady and an elderly man, their aged hands intertwined.

Time had made her marks upon them, and gravity had pulled down on their wrinkled faces. Yet, the ends of their lips were pointed toward the sky. The corners of their eyes wrinkled as their gazes held each other's faces.

From their view, do they not see the starlight hue of their hair? Instead, do they still see the vibrancy and youth of their locks which age had stolen from them?

The image of each other reflected in their irises, was it from a time before the hands of gravity pulled on their creased skin and bowed bones? Would you ever be able to find out?

“I wasn’t aware you had a hobby of people-watching.” A baritone voice ghosts over your ear.

Jolting your head to your right, you come face to face with the interruption. Or perhaps, your mind finally registered Alhaitham’s presence just off to the side of you. His arms were weighted down with various bags.

Oh, that’s right, the markets and stalls were lively on the weekend with families restocking groceries for the upcoming week. You and Alhaitham were no different.

Glancing up at his ashen trestles and then scanning back at the starlight locks of the elderly couple, and then back to your husband.

“Hmm, not quite. Just noting the fact your hair is the same color as an old man’s, Haitham.” You catch the subtle twitch of his brow.

“Is that so? I hope you are aware you’re not immune to the inevitably of aging, wife,” Alhaitham returns your jest.

“Well, with your hair color and grumpiness, I’d say you’re already halfway there.”

“I needn’t expound on your equivalent levels of grumpiness, it won’t be long before your locks share the same ashen hue.”

“I guess that’s why we get along then, dear husband.”

“That’s one theory,” he huffs, a simple tone lacking any bite.

You pan your face back toward the crowd, partly because it’s getting harder to hold the neutral position of your lips, partly because your curiosity aches for an untold conclusion.

However, when your gaze returned to the ever-bustling sea of people, the pair of starlight hues were nowhere to be found. It was regrettable, but expected, the elderly couple were nothing more than a pair of strangers in a crowd full of unfamiliar faces.

They were just a brief scene that disappeared into the moving tides of people.

Leaving you with your unresolved musings.

“Is there anything else we need for the week?”

Alhaitham’s voice reels your consciousness back, swiftly you check the crinkled slip of parchment within your hand. Scanning down the list of written items, all with a neat little line crossed through their immaculately penned letters.

“It looks like we got everything we need.” You tuck the list into your pocket.

“Then it’s best we get home before our groceries are spoiled by the heat.” Alhaitham readjusts the bags in his hands.

A hum takes its place as your response. Pivoting your body in the direction of your shared home. From the corner of your field of view, his strides were paced to coincide with your shorter steps.

Studying the numerous bags occupying his hands, you can’t help but think it’s quite convenient to have someone as robust as your husband. Maybe it's these weekly grocery runs that are the secret behind his physique.

Discreetly, your hand slowly slips between the gap of his arm and body, linking your elbows together. So that your frame and his could withstand the push and pull of the crowd’s contentious momentum.

The neutrality of your lips had long slipped away, softened by the familiarity of his warmth. Even as your eyes were pointed on the path ahead, you had an inkling that a similar occurrence was mirrored on his lips as well.

An inquiry your curiosity didn’t need to peek to resolve.

That ache for an untold conclusion morphed into a new musing by the afternoon.

The silver shimmer from that elderly couple’s hair truly was like starlight. Perhaps that’s the correlation that steered your thoughts down this winding path of pondering.

Everyone, from those taking their first stumbling steps of youth to the slowed cane-assisted tramps in their golden years, is technically billions of years old. Or more accurately, the atoms and minerals in everyone are billions of years old.

The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood were all forged in the hearts of bygone stars. When those bright beacons burned out they exploded in one last finale, expelling those materials across interstellar space. Stardust that found its way here.

Here within you, and here within the slow breaths of the man in front of you.

After being around for billions of years, does stardust ever get exhausted?

That would be a sensible explanation for why Alhaitham had snuck away amidst hanging up freshly washed laundry.

His tall frame stretched the expanse of the couch as his starlight lashes were shut, shamelessly relishing in a nap under the streams of sunlight trickled in from the window.

Squatting down you observe the guiltless expression plastered over his resting face, still deep in the trenches of sleep, a small huff passes through your lips. Well, this morning you did have him carry all the groceries from the market back home.

Your husband does deserve this little nap.

Trailing your eyes down his neck you note the lack of a pillow, then as your gaze travels further you note the absence of a blanket as well. Internally, your mind tsks at this forgetful habit of his.

Although his body and yours still have youth coursing through your veins, it doesn’t mean they’ll remain as impervious as they are now later down the line, especially if preventative measures aren’t taken.

Like having a pillow to support one’s neck, or a blanket to prevent chills from plaguing the body.

Standing back to full height, you retrieved the missing artifacts, returning with a plush pillow and light comforter.

Even when his head was momentarily lifted to make space for the pillow, and when the spare comforter was draped over him, Alhaitham didn’t stir one bit. At times you can’t determine if he’s a light sleeper or if his stubbornness refuses to leave the plain of dreams.

It’s a true wonder of life how Alhaitham’s able to sleep so soundly at night given his extensive naps.

The vivid sunlight illuminated patterns upon his cheeks and trestles, causing the ashen strands to dazzle in their refraction of the afternoon light. A sight your eyes just couldn’t help but be enraptured by.

Maybe you could blame the warmth of the sunlight, or maybe the serenity of this quiet Saturday afternoon, or perhaps even these fickle inquiries about his naps for the yawn that left your lips. Now might be the prime time for some research.

Lifting up the comforter just enough for an opportunity to slip through, your body settles in the space right against his. It’s crowded on the couch, the cushions unprepared for two bodies to occupy its entirety, the open edge looming against your back.

Even after all the shuffling and pressing against his dozing frame, your husband didn’t budge a bit.

Leaden lashes still shut and lips set in that all too familiar line, chest rhythmically rising and falling in time with yours. The very image of unperturbedness under the blessing of sleep.

“You really are like an old man.”

At that mere jab, the corners of his lips tugged down while his eyes remained closed. A quick slip that confirmed your earlier suspicions.

“Who knew you were so talented in acting, Haitham,” you snicker.

A muscular arm soon enveloped your form, further pressing you against his chest as if to silence any more sardonic quips from entering his ears.

It was quite the challenge to stifle those giggles before they could erupt from your lips. Peeking up, there’s an ever-so-subtle lift at the corners of his mouth. An express which yours mirrored.

Studying the details of the lips just a breath away, a new musing worms its way into your thoughts:

When the hands of gravity and time start to pull down on his skin and yours the same, leaving wrinkles and creases in their wake, will the edges of his lips still curl like this?

Would yours mirror the same?

A second yawn sneaks past your lips as your lashes grow heavier with each fluttering blink. Claiming a corner of the pillow to lay your head upon, the seconds between each subsequent blink grew longer and longer until your lids were too heavy to lift.

Perhaps the stardust in your bones was exhausted, craving a short rest in his warmth.

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

There’s something against your back and your legs are tangled in something, sensations which gradually alert your dozing sense back from the fog of slumber.

At first, you only had the strength to peek open one lid, then promptly shut it. But in the nothingness behind your eyelids, something was halting your limps from stretching the weariness out from themselves.

You tried again, this time fluttering both sets of lashes apart ever so slightly. There’s a dry film coating your throat and mouth, feeling the impressions of the couch cushions and bundled comforter imprinted into your skin.

What time was it?

Blinking away the haze of sleep just enough to notice how the golden rays of a star were missing. A gray overlay was plastered over the living room despite the ticking clock hands displaying that it was late afternoon.

Peering back through the window behind, observing the congregating insipid clouds blocking out the azure sky.

A sure sign of rain despite the morning forecast. Rain… wasn’t there something left unfinished on the clotheslines outside? The groggy recollection of responsibilities creeps into the forefront of your mind.

The reign of your weary limbs slowly returns, and your legs languidly attempt to stretch out from the reveal they were caught in. However, their movements only caused a pair of longer limbs to ensnarl them further.

Alhaitham’s legs promptly caught yours, stifling any prospect of escape.

Your displeased whine was responded with a disgruntled groan by the man keeping your body locked against his.

Wasn’t your back looming just about the edge of the couch when you fell asleep? So why are you in this position now?

Your body wedged between the plush backing of the couch and his solid frame, the comforter swaddling you also didn’t aid in your immobility. Brawny arm draped over your waist, halting your feeble squirms at freedom.

“The laundry,” you mumble.

“Later.” A blunt interjection from a groggy voice.

“It’s going to rain.”

“Less than a 30% chance.”

“Haitham…”

Your husband simply burrows his head deeper into the leveled pillow, likely an attempt to leverage the cushy material to block out your grievances. His ashen lashes still stubbornly shut, much to your displeasure.

“Alhaitham.”

No fluctuations in your volume nor tone, but it was enough for one teal eye to peek out from under ashen lashes. Trailing up to a subtle frown to the furrow between your brow, then finally meeting your unamused stare.

“Laundry,” you try again.

A silent stare down, one stone face gazing upon an equally stoic face, like an immovable object pressed against an equally immovable object.

Which one will defend their title of most stubborn today?

His chest expands with a deep breath, grasp enclosing around your waist before his teal gaze shamelessly vanishes behind closed lashes. Robust frame pinning you further to the back of the couch as he continues to ignore your huffy floundering.

“Release me, don’t you dare-”

Your grievance was soon muffled by a gentle hand pressing your cheek into his palatial chest. A move that stupefies the irksomeness bubbling within until it falls defeated into placidness.

“Whether it be now or later, they’ll be clean regardless, it’s quite comfortable right here.” The resonance of his voice vibrates in his chest.

You respond with a humbled grunt. In terms of strength you’d always lose to your feeble husband, wouldn’t you?

There’s no point in peering up, for the pleased satisfaction of his resting face would bring a sour taste to your tongue. Thus, you merely adjust your limbs, coiling your arms around to his back and pulling his form closer.

It’s crowded on the couch, it’ll be troublesome if Alhaitham were to slip off the edge if his back were to stray any further.

At this distance, entangled so closely together, the soft beats of his heart in time with yours like a rhythmic lullaby beckons the heavy to return to your eyelids.

The gentle drumming of his heartbeat coaxes out a final sigh from you, lashes descending down as your vision dims back into the realm of slumber.

Slow breaths and heartbeats homogenize into a tender duet, tranquil enough to distract from the sporadic pattering against the glass and gradually increase in consistency.

A less than 30% chance of rain doesn’t mean that there’s a greater than 70% chance of no rain. It’s merely a statistical probability of 0.01 units of more precipitation at a given area in the given forecast area in the time period specified.

Known as the precipitation probability, calculated based on two factors:

The forecaster's certainty that precipitation will form or move into the area X The areal coverage of precipitation that is expected, then multiplied by 100.

Thus, if the forecaster were 90% certain that 30% of the forecast area would receive rain, then the forecast displayed on screens would read as a 27% chance of rain.

A crucial bit of information that seemed to have slipped his mind midst a quiet afternoon.

A troublesome miscalculation Alhaitham tsks at internally as he wrings out the pillowcase into a sink before tossing it back into the washing machine. Button-down shirts and blouses, wrinkled from the process of twisting out as much rainwater as possible, sat in damp piles awaiting their turn to be rewashed.

As he measures out the detergent he can hear the rattles and clanks of the pot and pans from the kitchen. A late dinner in preparation, a task which was supposed to be his this week.

When he woke up to the pattering of rain drumming against the window panes, the afternoon long gone, it stirred an ever-so-sinking pit of dread. Second only to the unamused stare of his wife as she replicated an overconfident statement:

“Less than a 30% chance, Alhaitham?”

How unfortunate it all was, that the area where this quaint house resides was part of that 30% of the forecasted area.

Teal eyes watch the bedsheets whirl and fumble as they spin in the wash, contemplating the circumstance and further action.

There is only one spare bedding set in the closet, so it’d be wise to allow you to have it for tonight as all the sheets and covers get rewashed and dried.

Your bed is about the same size as his, so two bodies wouldn’t have an issue fitting. At this rate, the two of you just slept in whichever bed was the most convenient.

However, given the current state of things, Alhaitham wonders if he should prepare himself to brave tonight on his bare mattress with a flimsy spare blanket and pillow.

He might as well return to the couch for tonight if that was the case.

The accumulation of all the years of science, mathematics, and research, Alhaitham wonders if there was ever a bright mind who came up with a formula to calculate how displeased one’s wife is.

What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it be?

More specifics needed to be gathered, something the man couldn’t do in the refugee of the laundry room. Thus, Alhaitham must brave a journey into the kitchen. His slipper-clad footsteps are slow and methodical as the kitchen appears from around the corner of the hallway.

Sights honed in on your back as you stood by the stove, a rich aroma wafting through the air.

Sleep still dusted your hair, evident in the few unruly strands sticking up erratically on your head, you made no attempt at fixing it. One hand is too occupied with stirring the pot on the stove, and the other set upon your hip.

Your stance wasn’t exactly tipping the scales in his favor.

Cautiously, Alhaitham made his way to you. Stopping just a few paces as your eyes peer over your shoulder, stoic gaze halting him in place just a few paces away. The faded imprint of the crumpled blankets and couch cushions on your cheek.

His hand twitches with the urge to run his thumb along the impressions, but rationally warns him of the consequences.

“The laundry?” No discernable tone in your voice.

“Everything has been collected and wrung out, I’ll rewash everything tomorrow.” It’s best to answer your questions this time.

“Hmm, they were out in the rain for quite a while now. They were dripping out onto the floor when you brought them in.”

“I’ve mopped away any rain and mud tracked between the back door and laundry room.” Teal eyes quickly checked the aforementioned area to ensure they were pristine before returning to you.

“Hmm.” You turn back towards the stove.

The soft ticks of the clock accompany the waning drums of raindrops against the glass, the kitchen hood whirring as a ladle continues to stir in a pot. A quiet lull engulfed the home. Treading on the side of caution, Alhaitham inhales deeply.

Without opening the box, one will never be able to confirm to fate of Schrödinger's cat.

“What’s for dinner?”

“Hmm? Well, it’s raining tonight, what better to eat on a rainy night than some Sabz Meat Stew, no?”

He’s careful to not sigh too audibly, lest he goes to bed with a stomach half-full of instant noodles and that miffed stare of yours.

Alhaitham decides to hold his tongue as teal eyes continue to watch you add more spices to the pot. Studying how nicely the apron is tied around your waist.

But it wouldn’t be wise of him to stand so close when the fabric of his shirt was still damp with rainwater transferred to him by the soaked laundry and sky.

His chain of thought was interrupted by the chimes of your phone on the countertop, catching your eyes as well as his to peek at the over. A certain name is displayed across the screen. It’s as if the hands of fate wanted to throw more salt into his face.

Bahram (Manager)

It’s a Saturday night, for what reason would an employer need to contact an employee so late?

Alhaitham’s focus shifts to your gaze which is still honed in on the screen. A bitter tinge crawls up the tip of his tongue, threatening to spoil his appetite. Perhaps, he wouldn’t mind settling down in his bare bed with just a spare comforter without dinner tonight.

“Can you reject the call for me? He can wait until Monday to get me to resolve whatever he messed up,” you scoff before rolling your eyes back to the stove.

Swiftly he swipes to decline the call, let your voicemail remind Bahram of the concept of ‘off time’. The phone whirs again right after the first rejection, but he simply swipes decline again.

Pushing the device away with a bit too much satisfaction in his veins.

Glancing back at your frame, he lets out a sigh as he relents. Resting his head into the crook of your neck, careful to leave a bit of distance between your bodies and to not hamper your shoulder’s movement.

“Hm?” You hum expectantly.

“It was my oversight tonight.” A string of words a bit unfamiliar on his tongue, but stubbornness hasn’t been in his favor tonight.

“And?”

“I’ll be more cautious regarding naps.”

“Hmph.”

The lull returns, him resting his head on your shoulder and you continuing to watch over the stew. Teal eyes on you and your eyes on the stove. Until your shoulders raise with a deep inhale.

“Go get changed out of that wet shirt then set the table, this bastardized version of ‘soup’ will be ready in 20 minutes.” You reach for a skillet just off to the side.

He hums this time, the liberation from treading in suffocating lull tugs at the end of his lips. He surmises that laying his head against you for a few moments more won’t be so consequential.

The patter of raindrops still splattered against the glass panes of the window, drops which warped and blurred the scenery beyond the glass. Not that there’s any scenery to look at, not with the dreary clouds crowding the sky.

A heavy sigh huffs through your nose, curling onto your side as you adjust your pillow.

A filling dinner, a warm shower, and soft comforters. Factors that should contribute to a restful night’s sleep, or at the very least make your eyelids weary with the weight of lethargy.

Yes, perhaps those components should’ve granted you entry into the reprieve of a dream.

If it wasn’t for the fact you’ve intruded into the domain of slumber twice already today.

And the tempter who lured you to do so currently has his arm wrapped around your waist.

Alhaitham’s chest rises and falls against your back, soundly asleep without an ounce of guilt over the predicament he’s partly responsible for.

Lifting your head off the flattened pillow, your body twists around to fluff the stale stuffing back up before settling back to your position.

His body rested against yours just as it would any other night. But there’s a weight at the corners of your lips, one only grew heavier as your ears witnessed each content exhale resounding from the man who seemingly stole your sleep.

If you were crueler, you would’ve exiled Alhaitham to the couch or his barren mattress.

However, he’d probably sleep just fine regardless.

Canting your head up, you flip your pillow to the other side once more.

Your rolls and rhythm were abruptly interrupted by the clasp of two harsh hands pulling your hips into his, the contours of his rigor now digging into the plush of your ass. Forcing a stunned gasp up your throat.

“It seems like my wife has quite a bit of energy.” His timbre deeper from grogginess.

Ah, all the twisting and turning you did just to adjust the troublesome pillow must've disturbed him.

The softness of your ass cradled against his pelvis through the thin material of a button-down, an item borrowed from his closet that you’ve designated as sleepwear, and his sweatpants.

‘Serves him right.’

Your attempts to twist out from his iron-clad hold only ground your ass more against the stiffness, earning a grumble from his lips.

“Oh? And who’s fault is it?” You retort, still protesting in his hold.

Snaking one hand downwards Alhaitham presses against your lower stomach to arch your ass further into him. Leaning his face closer to yours.

“Do you want me to take responsibility?” His whisper ghosts over the shell of your ear.

You could feel the pads of his fingertips tracing under the loose button-down.

“Shouldn’t you resolve the issues you’ve caused?” A huff leaves you.

The outline of his shape pressed along your skin, the plushness of your bottom contrasting against the rigidity.

“I can say the same to you.”

The pads of his fingers trail up your heated skin, crawling along your torso, feathering touches alighting your senses like sparks. Massaging the tired yet restless muscles. You sigh in contentment.

The billowing button-down dragged up by his vascular hand, unveiling your skin to the cool sheets. Wandering touches slow as they rest in the valley of your breasts. His fingers enclose around one mount, gently twisting the defenseless nipple.

“H-hey! Hmph-“ Barely catching a moan before it fled past sealed lips.

“Hm?” His lips are now right next to your ears. “Surely you foresaw this, I’m just helping my wife with all her excess energy.”

His forgotten hand made its presence known as it kneaded your hips, cunning touches breaching under the feeble defenses of your panties. Effortlessly brushing them to the side, long fingers encroaching closer to their destination.

Your thighs react, squeezing together to prevent him from venturing further. Unfortunately, it was all in vain, for his fingertips already dipped into an all too familiar sap.

“See, you seem quite eager,” he taunts.

Stubbornly, your body attempts to buckle away from his influence. Face firmly pointed away from his lest he peeks at your heated cheeks.

Alhaitham abandons the perch on your breast, two large hands attempting to tame the bucks and rolls of your hips. He releases a slow sigh into the crook of your neck.

“Are you not feeling it tonight?” His hands remain where they were, but the strength missing.

At the lack of resistance, your hips seem to have lost interest in their writhing, staying within his yielding hold. Internally, you chiding your body for being so straightforward. The only thing blocking an answer from exiting your throat was that fickle ego of yours.

“Won’t you allow me to make up for my blunders today, wife?” He soothes his hand along your leg.

With that stubborn ego of yours still biting down on your tongue, you simply nod your head. Feeling the heat of your cheeks reflected to you by the pillow.

Permitting your thighs to give into the tow of his grasp. Allowing the grip of one large hand to pull your bent leg open, exposing your vulnerable cunt. Shielded from the view of the raindrops by a mere blanket.

The hand snaked under your waist took swift advantage of the oppurtunity. Sliding one firm finger down to part the fold of your slit as his warm hand cups your greed.

Alhaitham continued with the caresses of his fingers. Your lashes and lips pressed tightly shut, your leg still held in his tender hold. His slow breaths brush ghosting your skin.

He spreads the slick along your slit, the tips of his fingers ever so often knocking against the bud at the very top. Teal eyes catch the sudden jolts of your body every time it happens.

He moves his fingers downwards, slowly parting the now soft folds of your core. Feeling the subtle puckers of your entrance as his touch traced closer, more wetness dribbling out from the honeypot.

The tip of his finger now encircles the fluttering hole. Your hip subtly bucked into his hand, as if to lure him in a soundless plea.

Breaths getting deeper as your eyes follow his touch, the warm pad of his index finger twirling against your clit. Stoking a burgeoning fire with each slow circle. Your placid sighs fill the lull.

His middle finger ventures past the entrance of your satin walls welcomed with a lewd squelch. Curling his finger against slick walls to test the give, he wonders if this hidden oasis is etched into his shape yet.

Diligently, his digit continues to sink in and out of your weeping hole, making your teeth sink into the flesh of your bottom lip. The squelches increased in volume as trickles of nectar began pooling on the sheets. Walls clamping around a lonely finger, it wasn’t enough to quell that mounting heat within.

A second deft finger joined in, sliding past a hungry entrance. A tangled dance amongst gummy walls as they curled and stretched the space. The lewd squelches resounding in your ear, a whimper trapped in your throat. The heel of his warm palm now pressed flat against the soft mound of your cunt, every movement of his hand resulting in a grind against your clit.

Each grind causes a hot flash to shock throughout your body, starting from your curled toes to the very top of your head. The jostling of your hips and legs gradually expels the blanket off the bed.

“Mmph!” A whine from a sudden surge of bliss when his thick fingers curled against a spongy patch deep within.

“T-there! More there!”

Your body writhes, no longer docile under the white searing pleasure frying the ends of every nerve within your being.

He gladly obliges. Unrelenting rhythm slipping in and out of your convulsing walls. Ensuring to grind against that spongey patch.

Your body twitches and flails in reaction. Trying to find some way to handle this surcharge of sensations.

Legs instinctively wanting to shut together as if to cease this turbulent sensation, unfortunately, your pitiful strength gave no resistance against his rigid hold.

Piqued by the sweet tune, Alhaitham watches the scrunch in your trembling brows. He repeats his actions, another mewl leaves your lips as your head leans further into his shoulder.

The mellow pace of his fingers suddenly amps up, retreating out only to clap back in as his palm presses into the twitching bud.

“Ah! Haitham.”

A pressure mounting up, a sirens call beckoning you closer and closer to a hazardous cliff’s edge. The only foundation for your sanity is thousand-count fabric, thus you twist the silk fibers as tremors overtake your body.

Walls clamping down to trap his thick digits inside as it spasms. Muscles tensing and quivering as your back arches away from his chest, parted lips with nothing choking past them.

Three thick fingers sink deeper into your pussy without a hint of resistance, as a reward he makes sure to roll your overstimulated clit in firm circles with his palms. Judging from the violent tremors in your legs, it seemed you were almost there.

Just at the cusp of rapture when your hand tangles into his ashen-locks, canting your head back so that your panting lips could capture his. Alhaitham returns to gesture with just as much fervor in his kiss, swallowing down your sweet mewls for himself.

With a singular gasp, the siren’s call had beckoned your sanity to drown in the murky depths. It’s as if you lost control of your body to the possession of pleasure.

Eyes rolled back and lips broke away as breathy moans escaped the prison of your throat, a haze heavy over your thoughts, pride long lost amongst the gale of an orgasm.

The beckoning depths of euphoria welcome your descent.

Your limp frame rests against him. A light layer of sweat coating your panting chest, blurred vision merging and blending the details of the ceiling above the bed.

Alhaitham coaxes the contractions of your core, riding out the waves of their squeezes and sucks against his fingers. Earning an addictive whimper from you when his digits pulled away. Entranced by the glimmering string of nectar stretching between his fingers and your oasis.

Trailing back up to your face, he notes the return of your hazy irises from their ogle of the bedroom ceiling.

“Better?” Teal gaze watching the pants of your chest as they steady.

‘No, not at all’, a statement just at the tip of your tongue, but your lips were busy attempting to grasp deep breaths. The surplus of vigor festering into unquenchable desire. To be closer, deeper, more. You needed more.

Where words fail, action must take its place. Even before your mind finishes up the scheme brewing within, your lips catch him off guard, plush lips embracing his in a tender waltz.

Your body rolls back so that your breast can press against his chest through the thin fabric of his stolen shirt.

At the tender caress of your kiss, teal eyes disappear behind ashen lashes, the clasp of his grip loosening. Allowing you the mobility to finally pull your body on top of his, lips never once parting until you were finally settled atop his broad body.

A certain stiffness makes its reintroduction against your roused clit.

Breaking the seal of the kiss as a line of salvia stretches between your tongues, arms pushing against his firm chest to prop your body up as you gaze down at him.

“Still have too much energy?” Haughty eyes peer into yours, yet you can see the ardor oh so thinly concealed behind the brilliant teal.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you the eager one?” You hum, rolling your hips against the rigidness trapped behind the prison of sweatpants.

“Hmm.” He sucks in a breath through his teeth.

Large hands feel down along the plumpness of your ass as they drag a flimsy bit of fabric down your thighs. Daintier hands pull down the hem of sweatpants and briefs.

A fair exchange. Him helping you out of those ruined panties, and you freeing him from a compressed prison of cloth. Discarded and forgotten along the floorboards as the fog of passion obscured them from further consideration.

His vascular hands slide down the curves of your body, settling on your hip as your legs plant themselves on either side of his body. Alhaitham coaxes the hem of his stolen button-down just above your midriff. Sharp eyes surveying the puffiness of your clit, glistening with temptation.

Lowering your hips a breathy sigh leaves his lips and yours as the ridges of his cock drag against your slick folds. A few slow rolls starting from his leaking tip sliding down, thick veins skimming against your swollen clit. Precum mixing with arousal in a sinful concoction along his length.

Perhaps he should convince you to participate in more naps if he knew it’d make you this excitable.

“Oh,” you hum aloud, pausing your hips as you reach over to the bedside table.

Pulling open the drawer and rustling about a box followed by the crinkling of foil. Holding up the corner of the packet to your lip, tearing the foil while your gaze held his. Taking your time in dragging the condom out from its package. Easing it down his length while your fingers traced along, feeling each twitch and shudder.

“You sure do know how to test my patience.”

“Hmm?” You feign innocence.

A pair of shaky breaths mingle as Alhaitham helps position his engorged tip at your dripping entrance. Your hand guides him while raising your hips.

Other hand pressing his chest down for support as your thighs sink back down, a shameful squelch accompanying heavy breaths as your walls welcome his cock’s fat head.

Weeping pussy engulfing his girth in bit by bit until you clit kisses his pelvis. Sending jolts of searing pleasure that caused your satin walls to twitch and tighten.

Releasing a breathy sigh as you gather your senses.

Drawing out his cock inch by thick inch, sloppy trails of arousal caught on each ridge before dropping back down. Earning low grunts and sighs each time your satin walls swallowed his girth. The rhythm of your hips is paced and controlled despite how Alhaitham’s fingers dug into your skin.

A whine living your drooling lips with each slap of his skin against your clit. Pushing each tantalizing inch to stroke your starved walls until his skin claps against yours with a wet kiss. The bedframe creaks with each calculated movement, back and forth, back and forth the wood sings along.

Your head was light, intoxicated by a feverish potion of lust and desire. Feeling him reach the deepest depths, fat tip grinding against those spots which made your legs falter momentarily each time.

Utilizing the strength of both your arms now to support yourself. However, the jolts of pleasure that shot up your spine with each roll of your hips were too maddening to stop.

His calloused fingers massage circles into your hips. Squeezing the plush flesh to ground his sanity, watching your lewd face as you shamelessly bounced on him for your pleasure. Observing the subtle ripples with each slap of your hips and the jumps of your perky breast.

The ghostly touches of your fingers skim across his lips, prompting his eyes to connect with yours. Lush and glossy lips parted with your deep pants as your lust-hazed eyes peer down at him, unspoken plea inscribed within them. Who is he to not fulfill your desires?

Lurching his upper body up, he answers your plea, capturing your lips with his. Swiping his tongue against your bottom lip, deepening the kiss. A messy and feverish tangle as if to replace the air in your lungs with his.

Mewls and whimpers muffled by his skin, your hands moving to perch themselves on his broad shoulders. Your quivering legs grew limp as the strength of his hands took over. Barely processing the sweet nothings whispered as your core relishes in the fullness. Like an ache that’s been finally satisfied.

He wondered if tonight’s excessive vigor was fraying his control, or if your body was just this addictive.

By now any notion of decency and integrity has long left you, your hand clawing into his shoulders, marking him with the scars of rapture. A harsh thrust of his hips recoils through you, a wanton moan reverbing off the walls as it forces your tangled lips to part.

Tongue unable to produce anything other than strained moans, your head nods into his broad shoulder as your hips ground against his. The wet squelch announces the reciprocation of your walls.

The intervals of those unrelenting rams increasing between the tender thrusts, half-lidded eyes trained on the shivers of your body. Cock sliding against satin ridges of your wall. Grunts and pants reverberate through his throat, teeth clenching as your heat engulfs him again. Reaching deeper into your welcoming core as your lips fall open.

“Is this not enough?” You could feel the mirth in his whisper.

Closer, deeper, more. You want more. Walls aching for more, for his girth to jostle your core more, to extinguish this all-consuming heat within you. Hips floundering in harmony with breathy mewls.

Pressing libidinous kisses along his throat feeling the vibrations of his grunts and pants, a deep chuckle was soon felt against your lips.

“Good grief you are a greedy little thing aren’t you.”

A deafening slam of skin resounds through the heavy air, swiftly followed by another and another. A new tempo in this waltz of passion takes over like a wave sweeping both of you out to a sea of indulgence.

Possessed by the desperation of chasing a white light, your hand rakes deeper into his toned arms. Seizing anything to prevent your mind from abandoning your sinful body as his girth twitches within your velvety folds.

Sanity like a foolish sailor who’s beckoned by the lure of a siren’s voice, uncaring of the rocks which will sink them to the very bottom of the bemused tides. Keening against your husband shamelessly, a shameless wife on the cusp of her second fall into ecstasy.

The heavy scent of lust, the smothering heat, his unrelenting and unshakable thrusts amalgamating into the spark that lit your nerves alight. Toes arched into the air and eyes reaching the back of your head. Sobs and incoherent babbles resounding through the room.

Your devious walls clamped around his dick with maddening convulsions, gummy muscles suckling against his girth eager to quell your aching greed. It was too much.

His fingers claw into your soft hips, pressing your cunt flush against his hips with a sloppy slap of skin. The bulbous tip prodding against that weakness deep within you. Bruising grip holding your body in place as his lips crash back into yours.

Swallowing down his breathless groans with your sweet mewls and praddles.

A heat is spilled into the rubber, making your greedy walls quiver amidst the aftershocks of ecstasy. Alhaitham’s hips twitch with each subsequent rip of his orgasm, thrusting his length further into your crowded cavity with each one. The filthiness of it all prolongs your sinful depravity.

Chest expanding with pants, your lopsided shirt falling further down your shoulder. Your eyes return from seeing blinding white, exhaustion drenching each fiber of your body.

Limp figure crumbling against your husband as his back lays back on the creaking headboard. Even before your worn mind could conjure a coherent thought, your hands caress his starlight tresses.

As his own breath evades him Alhaitham releases one hand to cup your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your smoldering skin, guiding your lips back to his.

Basking in the warmth forged between your bodies, between drumming heartbeats and breathless lungs.

Two bodies lay under silken sheets, skin freshly wiped clean of sweat as the crisp breeze brushed against the curtains gradually erasing the sinful haze. The cool air aids your rising and falling chest to pace itself.

Muscles and bones heavy with fatigue, yet your eyes couldn’t bring themselves to retire behind shut lids. Not when those dreary clouds have finally retreated.

The moon hangs high in the sky, finally free from the shroud of rain clouds, she sits among the twinkling dots. Twinkling dots were in actuality brilliant stars, some even larger and brighter than the beloved sun.

Glimmering lustrously as they traverse through the contentious vacuum of space and past other nameless stars. A scene from a late-morning market trip wanders its way back from the depths of your memory, bringing its musings with it.

“Something on your mind?” A timbre voice beckons your conscious mind back from its trek.

Teal eyes set upon yours as your heads rest on plush pillows, just a breath away from one another.

“Hm, just senseless musings.” Your gaze shifts away from the window.

In a changed world with millions of hands will your hands and his find each other to make two pairs of hands?

In a different time with a million pairs of legs, will your steps and his steps still coincide in time with each other

In a new life with a sea of new faces, will a stoic face and another stoic face spot each other in the crowd?

What is the likelihood of those odds?

“If you keep letting your thoughts fester, it’ll only bring trouble upon yourself in the morning from sleep deprivation.” He shifts his position, supporting his cheek on his fist as he stares down at your face.

You sigh because he spoke exactly what those whispers of rationale were urging you, but the scoffs of pride had deemed these rampant inquiries ‘childish’. However, it’s a bit hard to avoid his eyes now.

“I was just musing about the soulmates concept again,” you confess.

Alhaitham hums in curiosity.

“Do you…” You take a deep breath, forcing the hard-to-vocalize question from your tongue. “Do you think we’ll only be together in this life?”

He’s silent. Just the muted chorus of Summer crickets rejoicing over the conclusion of a rainstorm resounding through the space.

“In a different time, a different universe, or the next life, do you think we’ll be soulmates again?” You muster together the courage to peer up at his face.

“I don’t recall ever reading an article or paper related to this topic, so it’ll be convoluted to get an answer.” He brings his other hand to his face, signifying his musings.

Right, there isn’t even a definitive answer for what happens after life passes, an afterlife, a cycle, or nothing, no one knows. Was this the only universe where life exists or are there infinitely many far out there in the stars? Does anyone know?

Your hand pulls your blanket up to your face, partially to cover the growing shame creeping up your face. That haughty voice within was right, these baseless questions are silly and childish. Perhaps even too morbid to bring up so unprompted on this weekend night.

What were you expecting Alhaitham to even do? Did you want him to give you an answer? What can he even do? A question you can’t even begin to understand, why would you even expect him to have some solution prepared?

What to do now? Can you just take back your previous words from his memory, so he’ll just forget what you said? Maybe just ask him to quell any more mindless musings from plaguing you tonight by placing his lips on your forehead? So that you could finally drift into the realm of slumber.

However, is that temporary solution enough? Enough to stifle the contentions and riddles clattering together into a clamorous ruckus in your head? Could sleep even spare you from their tumult?

“The Membrane Multiverse Theory or reincarnation, hm, do you have any personal theories you’d like to share?” The sensation of his fingers grasping yours brings you back to reality.

Glancing at him with a quirk in your brow, you wait for him to continue.

“Who knows, maybe we’ll be the first to publish something for this topic.” His thumb runs along your knuckles.

“So, is there a speculation or possible rationale you feel particular to?” Teal eyes reconnect with yours.

“Well…” You sigh, relishing in the warmth of his hand as you concoct a half-baked theory.

“There’s stardust from stars that had burst billions of years ago, that have somehow ended up on this planet. Subsequently, every being on earth has the atoms of stars in them. So, naturally by the law of conservation, the earth is where the atoms of the human body will return.”

“Based on the law that atoms cannot be created or destroyed?” He drones.

“Yes, they all had to come from something before them. The carbon in muscles, the calcium in bones, and the iron in blood. The atoms that make up you and I might become part of something else, or even of different people too.”

“Hm, that sounds probable.”

“But, then this brings up a whole new host of questions, such as, if the new people our atoms become a part of are even ‘us’? Will they ever meet? What if you become a tree and I a rock? What if the atoms of you end up on one side of Teyvat and I on the other end?”

You peer into his irises, but you were just searching for an answer that isn’t there.

For his beryl irises were impassive. But it was the impassive foundation you needed to ground your rambling thoughts and nonsensical musings into the desolate truth of it all.

The warmth of his hand slips away.

“Never mind, I suppose it’s the most logical to conclude that we’re just soulmates in this instance of time, in this universe, and only here.” Your hand closes over the empty space he left.

Maybe it’s wise to dismiss it as silly rambling and then withdraw from his indecipherable eyes. Is it too late to put this plan into motion now?

The weight of a muscular arm is draped over your waist, hand pulling you closer unlike your ploy to escape.

“But I have a few theories I haven’t shared yet.” He glances out toward the bedroom window.

“While the theory of reincarnation currently doesn’t have any solid scientific backing, in some way, the law of conservation of mass does give a bit of merit to that notion.” Alhaitham draws circles into the small of your back.

You hum in response.

“The atoms that created us will return to the earth after us and become a part of something or someone else’s molecular structure. A tree or a rock, a human or a beast, it’s all probable. However…” Beryl eyes return to meet yours.

“What’s stopping them from repeating the same molecular structures as right now?” He asks.

Maybe it was his turn to peer into your eyes to search for an answer, an answer currently brewing and forging between your united gazes.

“What’s stopping these atoms from returning to these exact molecular structures in the future? In a different time, the atoms of us now could one day in the far future come together again and make ‘us’ once more. Maybe just you, maybe just me, or maybe both at the same time.”

He frees his other hand from the duty of supporting his head, broad body settling down into the bed and blankets, allowing his face to move closer to your level upon his pillow.

“What’s the likelihood of those odds? Me and you again?” You ask.

Alhaitham pauses. All the bright minds of science, mathematics, and physics, have yet to come up with a formula to calculate such a thing.

What would be the factors plugged into the equation? And how accurate would it even be?

The ashen-haired man wasn’t sure, but there was at least a statistical observation that would provide some basis.

“A true 0% chance is an absolute impossibility, just as nothing can be proven absolutely 100%. Since we don't know the absolutes of time, existence, or physics. So, there’ll always be a non-zero chance.” Feeling the drums of your heartbeat against his chest.

“Then, when they do, I think I’ll spend my life pondering what could fit into the spaces between my fingers like this.” He slips his hand into the gaps of yours, intertwining them.

Then finally, he saw the smile he’d been yearning for rising on your lush lips. The ends of your eyes crinkle as it make its way to your irises as well. Your grip mirrors his as you nestle your face closer to his.

“You won’t get tired of this stoic face?” You taunt.

“Will you get tired of mine?” He counters.

Your shoulders quiver with stifled giggles.

“No, no I won’t,” you promise him.

“Then I won’t,” he promises back.

His larger hand brings yours closer to himself, all the while your attentive eyes watch failing to keep the curl of your lips under control.

“Any thoughts on the Membrane Multiverse Theory? How will your astute mind surmise the possibility of us laying like this somewhere else in the stars?” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe as your face inches closer.

“I believe I’ve shared enough, I’d much rather hear what your brilliant postulate is.” His tone casted with mirth, but the bite missing from teal eyes.

Letting a soft hum, your mind rifling through all the paragraphs and journals your hands had ever thumbed through.

The soft rhythm of his breaths kept time. Stringing the words together on your tongue, you hope this monologue of yours will provide some amusement for him.

“If universes are randomly put into 2 boxes of ‘yes’ and ‘no’, then on average the number of universes in each box would be the same. For every universe I’m not with you, there’ll be equally as many where I am with you.”

A coin toss, perhaps it was all just a coin toss after all. Whether or not the Akasha paired a stoic face with another stoic face, for the gaps of your fingers to fit his so perfectly.

It could have all been a coin toss, for one half to stumble upon the other half cruelly parted from them by the hands of unseen gods.

“Something akin to a bijection existing between both sets of universes?” He cross-examines.

“Maybe… If we were to assign one type ‘yes’ to a positive integer, and the other type ‘no’ to a negative integer, then perhaps we can construct a bijection from the positive and negative integers.” Your brow furrows in contemplation.

“If we submit this theory do you think the Akademiya would publish it?”

“Not likely, bijections are usually made between sets of elements like numbers, not sure if bijections can be applied to something like whole universes. I’m just hypothesising nonsense,” you sigh.

“But they did publish the nonsense known as The Lifespan of Love,” he interjects.

“Hm, then maybe there’s a non-zero chance they’ll publish our nonsense too.” You stifle a scoff.

“Hm,” Alhaitham hums in amused agreement.

His free hand pulls the covers further up over your frame then smoothing out the wrinkles. Observing the growing delays between your slowing blinks.

“Only you and I would turn pillow talk into an academic deliberation.” You couldn’t hold back the giggle any longer.

He sighs in agreement, nestling his head closer to yours on the plush pillows, teal gaze never once leaving yours.

“It’ll make any romantic keel over and die from how dry it is, wouldn’t it, Haitham?”

“I say let them.”

Scoffing and shaking your head at his crude declaration as a yawn slips past your lips, a conclusion to this nonsensical academic deliberation.

With one hand still intertwined in the tender grasp of another you pull Alhaitham closer. So that the spaces of your body could lay against the spaces of his.

The warmth of his skin mingling with the warmth of yours, pressed against one another. You drawing mindless shapes into his back, his hand tracing senseless ruins into yours.

Perhaps, an illogical attempt to echt memories into the stardust in your bodies.

So he and you could imprint the memory of each other into the very fibers of your beings. Then maybe someday when these atoms return to these exact molecular structures, they’ll remember this too.

The law of conservation of mass, the probabilities upon probabilities, and bijections used in an inconsequential pseudo-academic ramblings to no one but an audience of silent stars.

Alhaitham’s certain no academic publisher would spare a glance at them.

But this nonsensical instance in the continuum of time, feeling the rhythm of your heart on the other side of his chest next to his own, is his most precious epiphany.

Fin~

©️vivalabunbun DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.

#vivalabunbunfics #alhaitham smut #genshin smut #alhaitham x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham fanfic #genshin impact x you #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham fluff #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x female reader #genshin x reader smut #alhaitham x reader smut #alhaitham x yn #alhaitham x you smut #genshin fluff #genshin x reader fluff #genshin soulmates au

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komitomi · 2 years ago

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Hi Komi! I just stumbled upon your account after reading an Alhaitham imagine of yours and it was AMAZING. I wanted to request Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Thoma after finding your G-spot? Thank you!!

that genuinely means a lot to me, thank you so much for liking my work <33 and yes!!

Finding your gspot :: alhaitham, kaveh, thoma (separate) x afab!f!reader

MDNI, NSFW WARNINGS: fingering (alhaitham, thoma), cunnilingus (thoma), p in v sex (kaveh), slightly mean!alhaitham, virgin!kaveh, gentle!thoma, small bit of fluff at thoma's part, cumming inside (kaveh), using spit as lube (alhaitham), reader is called a whore once (alhaitham) + not proofread.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Alhaitham:

You were currently sprawled out on his desk after you decided to tease him by disturbing him while he was focused on his studies, at first you sat on his lap, straddling him as he sat on his chair, but that didn't seem to bring out any reaction so you opted to grinding yourself against him.

Your intentions were to just tease him and be done with it but all that led to was the position you were in right now, alhaitham had you spread out on his desk, gazing at your dripping cunt, you felt extremely embarassed.

He lubed up his finger with his spit before teasing it against your hole and gently shoving it in, you gripped onto the table tightly and clenched your stomach muscles, “Relax.” he coos and you do relax.

That was until he adds another finger and curls his finger inside you, slightly hitting your gspot which ripped a pornographic moan out of you, alhaitham was kind of amused so he pressed harder, which made you arch your back, he smirked lightly at this.

You couldn't help but grind yourself against his fingers, he pumps his fingers in and out of you and doesn't miss hitting your gspot, which eventually makes you cum all over his fingers and the desk.

“tsk, tsk, such a dirty little whore” he clicks his tongue and pulls his fingers out of you before licking them, all that he knew was that those biology lessons definitely paid off that day.

Kaveh:

Kaveh was a virgin obviously, so the first few times you guys had sex it was more experimenting and a little challenging, you yourself haven't had many experiences but you were kind of well-versed, but kaveh? he had no idea what he was doing the first few times and you didn't mind, and guided him through it.

Now imagine his surprise as he was thrusting into you as usual and suddenly he changes angle which makes the tip of his dick brush over a spot that brought a loud moan from you, unlike any he heard before.

He halted not knowing what that was, thinking it caused you pain, but you whined and told him to continue that way, he had obeyed and continued thrusting into you, in the same angle, watching your reactions, he had no idea what it was but definitely knew you liked it.

You for sure would not have believed that he was inexperienced because the way he was thrusting so effortlessly into you right now, and hitting all the right spots while showering kisses on your body seemed like what an experienced person would do, but it all seemed to come so naturally to him, sure it took a little bit of time but hey, it was all worth it.

He continued to thrust into you, watching the way you react to his pacing, “F-faster!” you yell out, throwing your head back, he looks at you before speeding up his pace, you grip onto his shoulder tightly as your high was reaching you, moaning and whining as his cock bullied itself into your hole.

You come undone beneath him, coating his dick with your juices, he was surprised at this but continued to thrust before he finished himself inside you, he pulled out his dick to notice clear and a rather sticky substance on it, he looked back at you to ask you a question but you were laying there panting and tired.

He later learnt that the spot he was hitting which made you react in such a sensitive way was your gspot, and that the clear but sticky substance was your cum, not be confused with your wetness, he never knew women can orgasm like that, he only ever knew about clitoris orgasm, that too which he learnt from you, but never this, he was very fascinated to say the least.

Ever since that accidental discovery, kaveh's game and experience had improved rapidly, and he was proud of it.

Thoma:

“H-ha...! F-fuck right there thoma~!” you moan, throwing your head back, as you grip thoma's hair tightly, his tongue swirling around your bud, kissing it and licking it as if his life depended on it, you grind your hips against his face to match the rhythm of his tongue.

Thoma's hands kept your thighs apart, as he continued making out with your cunt, your hand left his hair and you propped yourself up on your elbows before shifting your entire weight onto one and grabbing his hair again, you looked at him with a dazed expression as he flicked his tongue against your clit before engulfing it with his mouth.

You groaned at the pleasure, you brushed his hair back, pushing away the strands of hair that were slightly tickling you as he ate you out, you felt one of his hands leave your thigh and to your entrance, he pulled away from your clit and shifted on his knees, before pushing one finger into your cunt gently before leaning down once again, to toy with your bud.

“O-oh god!” you moaned as you gripped his hair tighter making him groan, he slowly pushed the finger inside and out of you and added another one inside when he thought you were ready to take it, you gasp and felt your thighs quake.

His fingers were plunged deep inside you as he moved them like an expert, he was searching for your gspot, pressing down at random spots until he felt you shiver against him and let out a whimper, indicating that he found it.

His tongue pressed on your clit simultaneously as his finger pressing against your sensitive spot, you threw your head back and your hand left his hair to grip onto whatever was beneath you.

His tongue moved skillfully against your clit once again, nipping at your bud as he thrusts his fingers deep inside your cunt, you felt your high approaching and you grinded yourself against his face and hand, chasing it.

You felt shockwaves erupt from your body as you reached your high, it wasn't like your any other orgasm, it was more intense, you let out a low scream at the way it came out so harshly, juices gushing out all at once, you took a moment to register as to what happened until you felt thoma pull his fingers out and clean you up with his mouth.

You just squirted all over him, you felt extremely embarassed at it and covered your face with your hands as you laid on your back before you felt thoma on top of you, pulling your hands apart and kissing your mouth, you tasted your high from his mouth, it was salty and sweet at the same time, he pulled away from the kiss and kissed your face insteand.

“Don't be embarassed.” he cooed sweetly while stroking your hair and embracing you.

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin #genshin smut #alhaitham smut #kaveh smut #thoma smut #alhaitham x reader smut #kaveh x reader smut #thoma x reader smut #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #thoma x reader #x reader #x reader smut #genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x reader smut

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andraxicated · 2 years ago

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ꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ

Pairings: Alhaitham x f! reader

Synopsis: Your husband comes home stressed and takes it out by ravaging you in the kitchen

a/n: for that anon who requested haitham's version of the previous previous scara fic eons ago. im sorry this just came out sksksks. (i've been working on this for a month because school fucks me up so bad as an academic achiever)

tw: usage of safe word/action | rough sex | breeding kink | dirty talk | smut to fluff

A slam resounds through the living room, not even a usual greeting coming from a deep voice; that was your cue to turn off the stove and take off your apron.

You see a tall figure coming over to you and there he was, Alhaitham your husband is sporting a huge frown and wrinkles on his forehead. It's obvious that he's upset, and the only thing that gets him this upset is work.

"Not even an "I'm home" to your wife? I come here and cook you dinner after my own work too you know?" You say, raising an eyebrow with crossed arms. You think you looked intimidating but you were nothing but cute in Alhaitham's eyes. Seeing your face works wonders to take off the stress so he holds it, pressing kisses on your face which you scrunch. And lastly, he does what he always does: make out with you while gripping your ass inappropriately.

"I'm home. Where's our baby?" He asks while tracing the sides of your body, lightly nipping on your ear.

"Sleeping. Oh, and something came by the mail today." You pull away from him to get the envelope tucked under a vase. You hand it to your husband and he sees the familiar handwriting with a stamp that makes his eye twitch.

"Those idiots..." He murmurs under his breath and you widen your eyes. Lightly amused and turned on by how the words curl on his tongue.

"Who is it from?" You ask, tip-toeing to peek over him as he reads the contents of the letters.

But before you could even see a word, he rips the paper into two and you stand there frozen in shock. Watching as the pieces of paper fall like snow yet you start to think about how annoying it would be to clean. You're getting mad too.

"Haitham?! What the-" "It's nothing important" He cuts off and heads right for your lips, tilting your head upwards as he pushes down with his weight to initiate deeper. His smooth flesh slides against your own, tongue peeking into your cavern as he holds your head for support. You could feel the heat rise within, your center throbbing as you feel his big hands that touch you hastily.

One of them came to stop to hold your boob, lightly squeezing as Alhaitham gauges for your reactions. "Look at me" He said.

An annoying feeling rested in his chest when you didn't, so he picks you up weightlessly and sets you on the counter. Strong hands pin you by the knees and you swear you could almost feel them turning to jelly.

"N-not here...ah" You could only give in to your husband, letting him spread your legs then cup your pussy, a whimper that almost escaped if he didn't capture it with his lips. Alhaitham loved seeing you squirm just like now, that embarrassed face you keep as he hikes your shirt to reveal the waistband of your bottom. He tugs it down while kneading your spongy flesh. Your thighs shake and you feel throbbing moist on your folds, accompanied by that certain itch to be filled up.

"Why not here?" He asks. "We've done it plenty of times in the kitchen." He teases butterfly kisses, showering you with lewd affection as your shorts came off, revealing the white lacy panty you've hidden since it arrived.

He was wondering why you always seemed to rush to the front door when the doorbell rang. He'd ask and you would brush it off, saying it was just newly released makeup from your favorite brand.

And now he sees this...his eyes see red like when he consumed divine knowledge, zeroed in on the white lace barely covering what it's supposed to protect. Then he scans the overall view; swollen lips, fucked out eyes, half-naked wife spread out on the countertop just for him.

.....archons. He thinks he's gonna put another baby inside you tonight.

"Are you wearing a set?"

Your eyes widen, feeling like a mouse caught in a trap. "Yeah...? Why?"

Alhaitham clicks his tongue. His hands beside your figure completely trapped you, and he leans down intimidatingly like a predator cornering prey. Your heart beats too loudly and the throbbing of your pussy was not helping. You're incredibly excited and turned on by this display.

What's your husband gonna say? What's he gonna do?

"Take it off. Take everything off." his dominant voice renders you motionless but when you see the warning glint in his eye, you immediately start taking off whatever you had on. You've done this multiple times already, yet him watching you present yourself still makes you feel the same, the kind that makes you want to be treated like a whore.

Naked in all your glory, Alhaitham looks at your stomach and remembers how it used to be swollen; filled with his child, a symbol that you're already his. And he wants to see it again, it's about time don't you think?

"What a good girl" He praised because he didn't even need to tell you to turn around and arch your back. You were already showing him your hole, ass wiggling accompanied by your whines. "Haitham! Please! Please fuck me, I want you—hahhhh~" You breathe out the last word, ass ghosting over his rock-hard member. Even grinding yourself like this is enough to make you cum. It isn't there but you could vividly feel the sensation of his thick cock inside you. "Please mhmm? I've been missing you lately. You're always so busy and I-oh!!!" You're suddenly pressed against the counter, his cock digging between your ass as a groan made its way to his lips.

"Yeah, I'm busy. So fucking busy with all this shit being Grand Sage." He growls, hastily unbuckling his belt and dropping his pants to the floor. The sound alone made you clench in anticipation.

"Everyone encouraged me to stay in this position. Including you..." He says with a tone that makes your heart sink. Back then, he seemed to be the only one suitable for the job, to lead the institution. He's a better choice than letting someone incompetent lead. And so, with enough discussion and encouragement from you and his peers, he accepted the fate of being Grand Sage.

"It keeps me away from you. So I'm stressed and lonely" Alhaitham whispers against your skin, lips ghosting over just to make you tense. You arch your back in response, your husband humming at how reactive your body was. "And when you're stressed, I let you bounce on my cock right? I fuck you like the way you want." A strong hand suddenly strikes your ass, and a shout of pain sprung up your throat as you let your breathing even. Your sensations are haywire, tiny moans coming from you as Alhaitham's bulbous head prods at your entrance. "So you'll let me do the same right?"

He waits for your answer but none came.

"Right?" He's impatient, he's been fighting this boner since from the office, jacking off to a recent picture of you. The head then enters, only a tiny part of what it fully is. You dumbly nod in agreement that you almost feel dizzy. "Y-yes! I use your cock when I'm stressed. So please..." It was the last straw: your seductive eyes and slutty hole looking back at him.

"Use me—AH!" Your mouth is left in shock as he buries himself to the hilt, a moan reverberating from the depths of your husband's throat. You were so fucking tight it was suffocating his cock. He knows it had been a long time since you were intimate but shit...it feels exactly like when you both lost your virginity to each other. Alhaitham feels like a boy who just got his first pussy.

"You feel heavenly my love. I'll start moving now." He says while kissing the side of your head. His hand snaked all over your body, trapping your figure with his strong arms, making you feel helpless. Once you were lifted off the counter with a tight buckle of his limbs, you already knew where it was going.

"Tap consecutively if you want me to stop. Alright?"

"Alright"

His gaze was intense, making sure you understood what he said before covering your mouth with his large palm, effectively blocking out words. He pulls away along with his cock sliding out and you thrash in his arms, his teeth already gritting at how tight and wet you were. You feel the tip arrive at your entrance, the build-up of fear and anticipation making you shake like a lamb in his arms. He whispers sweet nothings like "I'll make you feel good", "this will hurt a bit", "it's okay" and all of those push you to the edge of the line, feeling like heaven is just one step away.

While you're agape and fucked out, he surprises you by pushing in one quick thrust, letting you take a moment to realize what happened before he started to plunge repeatedly. Alhaitham basked in your muffled moans and looked down at his cock going in and out with glistening juices. Its lewd sounds filled the kitchen, prompting him to take a faster pace to keep on producing it. You scream as you feel the girth stretch you harshly, pounding against your cunt as the balls slap against you.

"Mhm (y/n)" Alhaitham let out a groan of your name, biting the lobe of your ear in the making. He was so rough on nights like this, leaving you breathless and dizzy in a good kind of way. To feel your beloved working you open like he always does, to feel the wetness dripping down your thighs, and to hear his moans ringing in your ear. It all feels so. fucking. good.

You try your best to push against him too, helping him reach your deepest spot even though he doesn't need any. The cockhead somehow always finds your g-spot, hitting furiously once he identifies it and focuses on stimulation. His harsh pounding won't stop, bouncing you between his body and the counter, your vision rocking up and down at the roughness.

Your nails dig crescents at his arms while you lose your mind in taking dick.

"Fuck fuck, fuck! I'm giving you another little one."

Alhaitham wasn't that talkative in sex, he prefers to lose his mind to the feeling of your tight walls than initiate conversations. Unless...he feels absolutely good that there is a need to be vocal.

"You'd like that, won't you? You don't have to do anything but care for our baby—ah shit! I'm slipping inside you so easily."

He didn't need to tell you because you already know it. The sheer feeling of your hole working on his ceaseless thrusts and how it gives way to the large cock gliding inside you raw.

The overdrive of sensations was all too much.

"Mhmphh!" You cry as his arms wrapped around you got a little too tight for your liking. You suddenly felt lightheaded, chest restricting in a way that makes you panic.

All it took was hurried taps on the arms scarred with crescents. And Alhaitham wasted no second to let you go. He immediately turned you to face him and showed how worried he was, painstakingly obvious on his horrified face. You would've laughed at him if you weren't trying to catch your breath.

"Jeez, haitham. You really are stressed." You try to lighten up the mood but it seemed to worsen as he let out a deep sigh.

With the way you're about to slump on the floor, he suddenly lifted you up to place you on the counter. Alhaitham started to massage your thighs, a guilty expression etched on his face.

"I'm sorry are you hurt? You feeling okay?" Every word feels like vomit, he had no right to ask you that when you're obviously pained all because he couldn't keep his dick in his pants. Turquoise eyes meet yours in shame and Alhaitham couldn't fathom why you have a smile on your face.

"Hey" Your voice alone lifted some of the heaviness off.

"I'm alright now, but can you go get me a glass of water?" You asked and then watched as he slipped on his pants, a momentary frown appearing on your face as you watch him tuck his member back. He filled up the glass of water and came back to hand it to you, watching you remedy your parched throat. After emptying the glass, you wipe your lips with the back of your hand and set the glass beside you before giving Alhaitham the most comforting smile you could muster.

"Before we could continue that mind-blowing sex, I think you need to let out your stress properly other than blowing out my back." His ears cutely tinge red at your vulgar words.

You chuckle at the scene and place your arms around his shoulders. Alhaitham then takes one hand off and kisses the back of it while looking at you. The beautiful shade of green seemed to ask for forgiveness so you nod.

He plays with your fingers gingerly, massaging each one of your digits. "I'm sorry for almost crushing you to death. I should've been more careful with my strength, I'm really...really sorry (y/n)."

"Yeah, you're not so much of a feeble scholar anymore. " You say and silence ensues for a while before both of you break into laughter. "You feel good now? Tell me what happened-"

"love...I don't really wanna burden you and I'm sure you want to sleep-"

"Haitham"

Oh no. Your voice was stern and it was clearly a cue for your husband to shut the fuck up.

"Listen to me" You start. "I share my burdens with you, I tell you what annoys me at work and how hard raising a toddler is...yet you don't tell me anything except Kaveh's loans!, except minor issues at the Akademiya!" You sniffle, tears coming to your eyes. "Tell me what bothers you. Share your burdens with me, hmm?"

With your pleading face and watery eyes, how could he not say no? He sighed a long one before kissing your forehead, whispering his reply to your ear while intertwining your fingers together.

"Alright, I will. Stay here, you must be cold. I'll go get a robe for you." And with that, you watch his figure disappear into one of the rooms as you sigh and look at the food that's gone cold.

#genshin x reader #genshin x reader smut #genshin smut #alhaitham smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader smut #alhaitham thirst #genshin imagines #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin x reader fluff #genshin headcanons

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giamee · 6 months ago

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𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐘!

╭─────────────────────── ( 🫀 )

there's a certain beauty and pain in being with someone carnally, and nothing more than that

› 〉 📂 .ೃ | friends with benefits, more angst than smut, like this is basically all angst no smut lol, kinda short too mb

header art (left to right) by pcrow ; artsquirre ; _sekidesu

╰─➤ 💌 ₍₁₎ being in a situationship is all fun and games until u catch feelings fr 😕. anyways. let's go thru that pain in this. lowkey i wanna make a part 2 to this with a happy ending cos im SOFT lmaooo

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 ALHAITHAM.

BEING IN... WHATEVER THIS RELATIONSHIP COULD BE CLASSIFIED AS was not good for your mental health. in the past weeks that you and alhaitham had started sleeping together, you had been plunged into one of the worst emotional rollercoasters that you had ever been on.

what didn't help was the way he treated you so differently depending on the setting. you understood not wanting people to know, but did he have to ignore you entirely in public?

he wouldn't even spare you a glance as you walk past each other in the halls, eyes stubbornly trained ahead, leaving you steamrolled in his icy trail. and if you dare to try and talk to him- he'd look at you like you've grown a second head, completely shunning you and walking away as quickly as possible.

but it's a different story behind closed doors- in private, he's the sweetest man alive.

he'll whisper such sweet nothings into your ear, wipe your tears so tenderly with his thumbs like a lover would. he'd prop himself up with an elbow just so that he can gaze into your eyes as he pushes into you, even smiling at you as he watches the way your expression changes.

and the way he kisses you is what really throws you- always with such desperation and urgency, like he needs you in order to breathe when it's quite the opposite. he kisses you like he loves you, and the sensation is dizzying, perplexing when those fantasies are ripped from you in favour of reality.

but you know that you won't ever be his. not properly.

if it was meant to be, he'd at least smile at you as he passed. the more rational parts of your brain screamed at you to call it quits before you're sucked in too deep, but some part of you still held onto the hope that one day he would see you then smile.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 THOMA.

IT TRULY HURT TO REMEMBER THAT you weren't actually dating thoma. it was easy to get fooled- he was a gentleman, making sure to treat you right even when you weren't fucking. he'd make sure that you were okay, and he never kicked you out as soon as it was over.

he'd ask about your day, take interest in you and what you're doing. and arguably, worst of all, he wasn't afraid to be seen with you. the details that blurred the lines defining your relationship seemed like an afterthought, if the way his arm wrapped around your shoulders indicated anything.

you were his, unofficially or not. it only took a glance to be able to tell.

you liked to think that he was yours, too. that you meant something to him- more than just a pastime and a stress reliever.

there were moments where it was easier to believe it- with the way his eyes remain transfixed on you as you writhe in pleasure, cries of his name leaving your lips- his little coos and reassurances buttering you up, having you right in his palm, so pliant and willing for him.

maybe he got off on knowing that he makes you feel good in every sense of the word. seeing you happy acting as some sort of foreplay, all so he can claim you as his in every way except the one that you wanted most.

the urge to tell him how you feel, those three little words that dangle on the tip of your tongue and fight to be freed, are a constant struggle. but something inside you, some sick gut instinct, stopped you from blurting it out every time.

the fear of his reaction- disgust? confusion? kept you uncertain. a part of you would die if he didn't reciprocate your feelings. it was better not to know, and keep living in the make-belief of being his without the label.

you could only hope that you would be proved wrong one day.

ᯓ ᡣ𐭩 WRIOTHESLEY.

DESPITE EVERYTHING, YOU COULDN'T HELP BUT crawl back to him every single time. a never-ending cycle- one that you couldn't escape even if you wanted to.

both of you knew how it goes. you unblock him, play coy for a few messages before he's telling you to come over. you fuck like it's the last time you ever will- it never is- and then you spend the night.

he'll hold you, play with your hair, even kiss you, and you pretend that it's enough. if you're lucky, he'll even lend you a shirt that smells of him to sleep in.

and this facade is fine- while it lasts. but then you remember why you blocked him in the first place- the forced indifference, his refusal to open up. the way it hurt your heart to be pushed aside.

and then you go and ask him what you mean to him. he'll smile at you without mirth, the both of you knowing how this conversation goes. he doesn't want anything serious. you want more.

and then it's tears, you ripping off his shirt and throwing it back at him, storming out of his place and blocking his number with shaking fingers.

you cry yourself to sleep in your cold and empty bed- already sorely missing the warmth of his body as he holds you close to him in his sleep, whether he's aware of that or not.

and you're fine, you tell yourself. you can live without him. and you do, for a little while. honestly, he's the last thing on your mind as you distract yourself with work or seeing your friends.

but then a lonely night gets the best of you, abd you find your finger hovering over the call button next to his name. and you press it, cursing yourself for doing it.

he picks up at the third ring, voice smug as if he knew you couldn't go much longer without him.

and he's right, unfortunately.

you're already out the door, on the way to his apartment.

𝜗𝜚 genshin impact masterlist

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mellowwillowy · 1 year ago

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Modest Maid Serves Diligently!

Consisting of: orgasm denial and control, spanking. GN!Reader wears (skirt) maid costume and lacy panties.

"Bring over that water to me"

He pointed toward the counter where the water jug and cups resided. You walked toward it while clutching your skirt tightly, legs shaking slightly while lips pursed. Your face was as red as a rose, eyes hazy because of the tears, or to be more exact, the vibrator inside of you. You brought glass water to him.

"Hiiiy-!"

The man in front of you smiled innocently while his finger toyed with the controller. You could feel it vibrating even more, making you spill the water mid-way. The man tsked at it while ushering you to come closer and you did.

"Hmm.. hold it for me,"

The man brought your hand closer to his face and started drinking from it. You have to do this correctly, or what you thought to yourself.

"Nnngh- hyaa-!"

The vibrator inside of you started to vibrate even more again, the vibration pleasuring you, causing you to accidentally spill water on the man. Looking down, you could see their face darkened with a smirk plastered on.

"What a dutiful maid you are..."

Your hands couldn't hold the cup anymore, allowing it to fall while you clutch your thighs, pressing your thighs to help you chase your near-coming orgasm. But, he didn't allow it.

The vibrator pressure was lowered down, and you whined as you lost the feelings inside you.

"No no no, do you seriously think you deserved that after you spilled water on me?"

You whined even louder, your eyes teary. Looking at you, the man gulped before yanking you closer to him. His hands started to travel onto your ass, playing with the flesh. You pursed your lip again, moans slipping out occasionally.

You could also feel the vibrator vibrating hard again, making you jerk your body upfront to the man, hands resting on his shoulder.

"Clasp your hands on your back and stand still and silently"

The man commanded as he smacked your ass, serving it as a reminder. You tried to do so, alas only to be met with failures. Your whimpers were audible and your shakings were visible. He started to increase the level while kneading your ass, your legs shaking violently before you placed your hands on his shoulder again, moans escaped from your bitten lips. The man smacked your ass again, causing you to jerk in front instinctively.

"What a bad maid you are... chasing your own pleasure while ignoring your master's order?"

You shivered at his words, in a good way of course. His hand traveled under your skirt, feeling the drenched lacy panties, his finger teased you before he inserted one of his fingers inside you. Your body jerked violently from the contact and stimulation, your hands clutching the fabric on his shoulder even tighter.

"Ah ah ah, no, not before I allow you to"

You whined, your orgasm controlled by the man beneath you. He slipped another finger into you, and his fingers skillfully played your insides, hitting that one spot repeatedly. You were so close, but you knew better than to disobey. Yes, you knew better. You knew better!

And yet, you could feel it dripping down, wetting his trouser.

He stared at you first before moving to his trouser after you finished your show. It's wet, again. The man lifted you from the ground and placed you on his lap, his hands reached your ass before you could say anything.

"Did I not" smack "tell you" smack "that you" smack "are not allowed" smack "to come" smack "unless I" smack "allow you to?" Smack!

You cried at his spankings, your legs thrashing around before it's smacked as well. The spankings didn't stop there, it kept going even if your ass cheeks were screaming red.

"Silence"

You tried but the choked sobs wouldn't stop flowing out. Your eyes brimming with flowing tears, hands clutching the surface you could reach tightly. The room was filled with your suppressed sobs and the sharp spankings. You knew he was being lenient enough to not make you count, you knew that for sure.

"And... 34" smack!

Your punishment ended with you looking like a crying mess. That is, with you excited down there as well, your panties drenched again. He sat you down on his lap. You broke out a sob as you tried to ask him,

"Huk- may I, uhk- khuk- come now?"

He gave your ass another smack.

"Where's the apology?"

You started to apologize, a lot in a sense. Your cheeks were covered with tears flowing down like a falling river, your thighs pressed against each other for friction. The man hummed while tapping his index finger on your red flesh. He started to rub your excitement with his thigh, making you ride him instinctively, trying to chase your end.

As though allowing you to, his fingers started to feel your breast, pinching the clothed nipples. He couldn't even be bothered by how wet his trouser was.

"You have a beautiful moan, you know?"

You twitched at his praise, dragging your hips in and out even faster, feeling your private area getting hotter from it.

"Please.. please... please, please, Master!"

The man brought his lip to your ear, nibbling it before a 'go on' broke out. The man sat back as he watched you perform a show for him with his thigh beneath you.

Safe to say, it ended beautifully.

|| Pantalone, (especially electro...) Childe, Diluc, Al-Haitham, Zhongli, Pierro, Dottore, Neuvillette, Wriothesley (daddy?), Ayato, Blade, Jing Yuan, Dan Heng, Luocha, Sampo, OC.

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bunicate · 1 year ago

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⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ 𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅. al haitham x fem reader

warnings ꒱ hybrid au . bunny reader. bath-time with haithy ! fingering. subtle hand kink. fluff ﾉ wc ꒱ 2.4k ﾉ 18+

al haitham finds himself lost in his own musings more often these past moons. instead of his mind circling around any new wonder of the world, he’s recalling small moments enough times that distract him from his usual thinking.

at first, he tried to organize such thoughts into some semblance of order and question why they appeared in the first place until he realized for once, that he didn’t need an answer. he didn’t want one.

while peeling apart that revelation— scraping away at the edges, he wondered if doing so would give him that same sweetness or grant him the seeds to plant more. somehow it was the latter.

the seeds sprouted prickly vines that sunk into both his heart and mind.

now al haitham spends his walk home just remembering tiny exchanges down to the most minute detail. the meeting of fingertips, eyes squinting from the blinding warmth, sleep woven into each wrinkle, frown, and soft giggle.

the scribe had become even more reluctant to be pulled away from his own thinking, but he makes an exception when the one occupying his thoughts excitedly appears before him.

just seconds after he steps through the door of his home, he’s ripped away from his reverie. al haitham is nearly sent back into the outdoors from the solid weight that collides against him. he uncharacteristically loses his footing and the hardwood floor might’ve been his fate if not for his fast reflexes.

pillowy arms latch tightly around his slender waist and fluffy ears tickle his abdomen. face nuzzling into his lower stomach, carelessly grazing his groin, you whine, “haitham . . . you’re finally back.”

the smell of his scent mingled with the aroma of the desert warms your senses. leftover speckles of the granular sand on his clothes poke at your skin, and yet you pull him closer.

“I missed you sooooo much.”

he nods, “I’ve returned.”

you tilt up to look at him with your dolly eyes that enamor him. eyes that once belonged to a creature that only sparked his curiosity was now a companion.

his hand rests on your head, careful to put it between your floppy ears. the tip of his fingers scratch and caress the surface and he’s rewarded with your expectant purr.

your tail flits from the bubbling eagerness to receive more of his affection. he recalls his roommate chiding him for not being soft enough with you, but he begged to differ.

reminded of the blonde, he wonders aloud, “is kaveh here?”

al haitham doesn’t make a habit of thinking about the architect, but he’s grown wary. it seemed like kaveh had also fixed his attention to you. a ribbon unfamiliar to al haitham adorns your hair and there could only be one person responsible.

“mhm! he’s in his room.”

eyes run down the curves of your body. his oversized shirt did nothing but define the slopes of your breast and rise above your tail perched above your butt.

“what did I say about your clothes ?”

arms falling to your sides, your lips jut out into a tempting pout. “I know what you said, but I’m wearing panties this time,” you petulantly mumble.

you had a terrible habit of walking around completely bare. while the loose shirt was a step up from complete nudity, he didn't need kaveh to see anything else. he recalls the architect walking in on your naked body on multiple occasions.

“I suppose,” he hums. “still, I’d prefer if he didn’t catch any more glimpses of you.”

you chuckle lightheartedly at the man displaying clear signs of jealousy, but it’s interrupted by a yawn. your head shakes reactively trying to rid your body of the drowsiness and play it off in an effort to fool the scribe into letting you stay up later but, nothing made it past him.

“it is rather late. let’s get you to bed. '' he reaches out to hold your hand, but you don't take it.

head tilted to the side you ask, “I need to take a bubble bath first ! are you gonna come?”

you lean closer to him, fullest parts pressing against his athletic frame in a cute attempt to entice him , but he shakes his head. ever the busiest scribe.

“I have some paperwork to finish and I wanted to catch up on some light reading before I retire for the night .”

your ears droop.

“but–”

your ears perk back up.

“I could help you, if that’s what you want,” he offers.

you instantly spring back to life. “oh yes, please!” you squeal excitedly, grabbing his hand to lead him noisily up the stairs. nearly tripping over yourself, still you drag him to the bathroom.

“be careful,” he scolds, but you just laugh at his tense and worried expression.

shutting the door after you both enter, you hop up on the counter and wait patiently.

al haitham shakes his head, a ghost of a smile forming. he takes off his gloves and rests them on the cluttered sink. this mess was undoubtedly your doing, and he makes a note to bring it up later. he turns on the hot water and when it rises a bit higher, he dips his hand to feel the temperature and he's quick to pull it out. he preferred the water to be much more tepid while you liked it to be boiling.

he senses your eyes on him watching as he pours the vanilla-scented soap into the water waiting for the bubbles to form into clouds.

when he finally turns to face you, he’s met with a bright smile only you could own. not a word was spoken. silence was enough to consume the delicate air between the both of you .

you decide to hop off the counter and pull the cotton t-shirt off your body. al haitham moves to crouch, resting on his knee to pull down your underwear. your hand leans on his shoulder as you take your time to step out of the undergarment.

left foot first and then the right.

you do a little hop when you almost lose your balance, but he steadies you, staring at your bare cunt.

you turn your back to him and he ogles at your ass before standing to his full height. towering over you and standing close behind, you feel his breath grazing your neck. agile fingers sweep your hair towards your shoulder blades, tickling the warmth of your skin to unhook your necklace that acted as a collar. he places the fine jewelry on the sink and extends his arm towards you once more.

you place your hand between his and he leads you to the tub. you submerge yourself completely in the water and al haitham plays with the bubbles before washing you up.

you both use the moment to admire each other's features. gray-ish hair hovers over his eyes that betray no emotion and still you can make out his affections. your gaze trails down to his nose, lips, and wide shoulders. the muscles in his arms flex as he drags the soapy cloth along your body and you bask in the moment before he decides to break the silence.

“what did you do today?” the cloth glides over your chest, easily soothing you.

“nothin’ much. kaveh came home early and he bought me a slice of cake.”

of course he did. kaveh always had a tendency to obsess over pretty things so it was only natural that he’d flock to you– a cute and helpless bunny. ever since this place has equally become your home kaveh wasn’t good at being discreet. his touches lingered for far too long and al haitham became keen on how much time kaveh spent with you while he was away at the akademiya. but he could at least feel secure knowing you were safe.

hybrids, a species often neglected and exploited needed to be protected, and he guessed he could rest easy knowing he had another pair of capable hands to rely on.

“h-haithy !”

your sudden cry lures him out of yet another daydream but this time he’s flustered. he understands the alarm in your eyes when he realizes how close his hand was to your nether regions, crassly nudging your cunt for the past few minutes.

he exhales and sputters at the sight and he’s quick to pull his arm away, but you stop him. it’s the first you’ve seen him taken aback and you want to tease him like he does to you , but you can’t—not when desire engulfs you to the point of ruin.

“n-no ! . . . leave it please ?”

both of your hands tug his further into the water, knees coming closer together around his his limb, just until you feel that graze against heat.

al haitham remains quiet, closely watching your next move to see what you’d do now. your head reclines back to rest on the tile wall, your fingers guide his own to your middle, and with steady humps against his wrist you feel relief that rids that redundant ache.

“. ‘haitham, can we? . . just for a little bit ?”

he didn’t think he could say no even in a light-hearted jest.

you nearly collapse in on yourself when you finally feel him becoming receptive to your inclination.

his fingers feathers at the seam of your lips. instead of making it easy for you, he’d rather give you the tools to bring yourself to your own high. he would only give you a running start.

his palms slide up cupping and then squeezing the plumpness of your cunt. it fits perfectly in his hand, hot and sticky even when submerged under the water. a finger slides down to settle on your clit, circular rubs turn into slow strokes. if you wanted to feel more, you’d have to work for it yourself.

your small hand wraps around his wrists trying to feel more of him. “hnnn . . want them inside, haithy.”

he’s deliberately pressing down on the sensitive bulb hoping to draw out your cute moans, ignoring your simple request. al haitham's gaze is glued to your tummy folding over and your spread legs. between them is perfect pussy spoiled and eager to receive more of his touch.

his digits slide down your outer lips to press down on your hole. probing it, teasing it until it twitches greedily for more. he moves around the orifice collecting slick that struggles to disperse in the water.

“ haitham . . .” you beg. his eyes flicker to your pleading ones. lip tucked under your teeth and brows drawn tight, your chest expands as you greedily suck in air, hips gyrating into his palm hoping for him to satisfy you. “please.”

he smirks and to your luck, two fingers enter and stretch you. long and nimble things your pussy takes the shape of. they scissor and separate to feel the heaviness of your walls clamping down.

“so tight.”

the veins in his flexing arm are prominent. you see the force behind his movements as well as feel it. his biceps bulge while his fingers jerk you to completion . the sounds of you the splashing water and your whiny moans further arouse you

“you’re close to cumming already ?” he provokes. “ from just my fingers, too. it seems I must train you just a bit more.”

the bass in his voice sends a tremor down your spine. his words of encouragement provoke more of your thoughtless pants and the swivel of your hips. just a bit more—more of his knuckles stretching your walls, more of those eyes you fell in love with looking back at you with an unspoken, ravenous haze.

it makes you bashful. your damp bunny ears fall over your eyes, shielding them from his hungry stare.

“oh?” his expression darkens and his tone drips in a taunting and authoritative tone.

“are you hiding from me now ?”

it should make you quiver, but you know him well enough by now. as stoic as he may appear, the caress of your folds tell a different story.

you foolishly part your mouth to audibly confirm but a broken gasp escapes at the coil slowly winding up inside of you.

“you shouldn’t be so shy. wouldn’t you rather see who’s making you writhe? don’t you want to see how you’re fucking my hand like a wild bunny rabbit in heat?”

your hair sticks to your face from the steamy room and the sweat that gleams your skin. you pull your floppy ears away from your eyes and you’re met with the sight of his handsome face. contrary to his expression, the sight before him acted as a fire, melting him into remnants of himself.

his cock twitches against his snug pants, itching to enter your gooey cunt. how well you’d behave— how obedient you’ll be when he seats you on his member and you’ll hop up and down like good bunnies are supposed to.

with how generously your pussy has been tugging on his fingers, he’s more than willing to test that theory.

your eyes are tempted to screw shut but you want to watch. sensing your conflict, al haitham nods in approval to coax you.

“that’s more like it. you’re hard to resist when you’re so obedient.”

his fingers work themselves inside of you, precise thrusts, muscles defined and on display. he’s so . . . big, so filling and you might just lose it.

a prolonged gasp echoes as your thighs squeeze around his muscular arm. the continuous strokes of your sticky walls forces you upright into a sweltering mess. your pussy’s throbbing quickens erratically until he feels the rhythm steady out into a slow pulse— suckles that pulls his digits deeper toward yours sacred spot until you couldn’t anymore.

your senses fail when his thumb rubs your little clit to help drag out your end. you were nothing but a drooly and overstimulated shell of yourself, with meek moans falling from your mouth.

“yeah, that’s a good girl.”

he doesn’t stop milking you. his other hand reaches out to scratch behind your furry ears in praise while you crumble to pieces. he carefully removes his fingers from inside of you and pats your pussy that puffed from his ministrations. it pulsated around nothing—twitching like a bunny’s nose.

“I’d say you’re more than satisfied.”

you’re exhausted and still you nuzzle into his palm. what was once supposed to be a relaxing bath was now a drawn-out session of your dear owner playing with your sore cunt. still he admires your tired and spent state moving to actually get you clean this time.

“let’s get you to bed.”

#૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #al haitham x reader #al haitham x y/n #al haitham x you #al haitham x reader smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x female reader #alhaitham x reader smut #genshin impact smut #hybrid reader #hybrid au

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silkjade · 1 year ago

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alhaitham x mermaid!reader (3.5)

⤀ cw: afab!reader, first time (w. him), lots of teasing, cunnilingus, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, lil bit of size kink + overstim, creampie, fluff???, true love but they don't know it yet — mdni || ꒰ 6.2k wc ꒱ ⤀ notes: recommended to read the previous part first, but it can stand alone as well ! hope u enjoy my smut debut + reblogs & feedback are always vry much appreciated ♡ next ﾉ series masterlist ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓇼

When you had taken him up on his half conscious, pseudo challenge to visit Sumeru City, Alhaitham never imagined you’d cause him so much trouble. It’s not in the sense that you’d drawn too much unwanted attention, or that you’d spent his mora on frivolous things. No, it was your lack of understanding for the human notions of shame and intimacy.

He’s never entirely sure of just how nuanced the unabashed things you say and do are. You’re shameless whenever you’d ask him for compliments point-blank, or when you’d waltz out of the bathroom only half-dressed in his clothes. Other times, you’d surprise him with words so naively honest, brush against him in ways that feel far too tender.

To his dismay, it’s becoming increasingly clear that your actions always come with a price—one that he pays, not with mora, but with his dignity. Much like the smooth caress of the waters you came from, it’s all seemingly harmless, but the depths of your intentions remain aggravatingly unknown. Especially when your very presence is enough to enfold all his senses in a lull of desire.

He runs a hand through his hair before turning the knob of his bedroom door, only to find you in your human form, lounging on his bed, lazily flipping through one of his books. The robe you wear is one of his; too large on your frame, with the silky material falling off your shoulders, dangerously close to revealing too much.

Not that it isn’t a welcome sight—he is a man after all. And while he prides himself on his exceptional self control, it becomes an issue when he feels himself grow hot and the loose clothes he likes to wear at home begins to feel too tight. He can’t rub one out while you’re here, so perhaps a cold shower might ease his condition…

But you’re more perceptive than he’s given you credit for.

“It’s not as magnificent as my tail, but this body is still quite impressive isn’t it?”

“I’ve never met anyone as shameless as you.”

…

“Well, I don’t think you’ve ever met anyone like me at all.” You flash him an amused smile, but the sultry look in your eyes relay a different message entirely. He can’t lie, it excites him.

“You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he mumbles under his breath. To his chagrin, your curious hum cuts through the room and he hears the heavy thud of a book slammed shut.

Of course you heard him. With renewed interest, you swing your legs over the edge of his bed, sauntering over until you’re close enough that he can smell the faint scent of his mint shampoo in your hair.

“Oh? And what could I possibly be doing to you?” Your fingers walk up his body, slowly, from his toned stomach to his chiseled chest, leaving his skin hot through the fabric of his clothes, “Won’t you enlighten me?”

You look up, that wide-eyed gaze of feigned innocence flickering into something sharp and dangerously seductive. A hand settles on his shoulder, pulling him in until you’re close enough that your lips are only a hair’s breadth away from his sensitive ears. The other reaches down and ghosts against his obviously growing bulge, before pressing down, palming him through his pants. Alhaitham bites back a groan.

“Or rather, what would you like to do to me?” Your voice rings low and smooth as silk to his ears. It leaves a wave of desire to bubble in the pit of his stomach, one that doubles down on the dull ache at his crotch.

His mind sifts through a thousand thoughts. Lascivious thoughts, sinful, perverted thoughts that only seem to make their presence known when in your company. Just one glance down at you and he can see how ridiculously easy it would be to untie the lazy knot that’s hardly holding your—no—his robe together.

“I…”

It’s hard to think when you overwhelm all his senses, poking at the urges he has so carefully suppressed up until now. His robe, his scent. He’s no fool to the way Sumeru City ogles at you—the mysterious stranger who’s able to so casually hang onto the aloof scribe’s arm. It only makes him want to stake his claim across the empty canvas of your skin as well: his mermaid. Perhaps just this once, he’ll let himself indulge in his own selfish desires.

“Come on, Scribe Alhaitham,” you emphasize,“use your words.”

A smug smile forms on your face as you calculate the risks of your next words.

“Although…if you’ve got nothing to say, why don’t you just show me,” you press close, voice deceptively soft. “I’m more of a hands-on learner anyway.”

For once, Alhaitham lets his body override all sense of rationality, flipping your positions, and pinning you against the wall as he captures your mouth in his. It’s uncharacteristically sloppy and haphazard, with none of the craftiness he displayed on that first and only night you kissed, but it’s intoxicating all the same.

His teeth graze against your bottom lip, demanding entrance, and you’re forced to grasp onto his toned bicep to keep yourself steady as you devour each other with the intensity of all your repressed thoughts. With every second his mouth remains slotted on yours, with every inhale and exhale of breath you exchange, you think that this time, you’re the one who might drown.

He finally tosses you a lifeline once he decides to leave the vicinity of your mouth, and begin his campaign across the rest of your body, starting with the little spot right along the underside of your jaw. Alhaitham takes his time trailing down your neck, catching you off guard when he stops to suck down, hard, on a particularly sensitive patch of skin.

An involuntary gasp escapes, and you can feel him smirk against you, though it quickly fades into a half strangled groan when your hips roll into his. He only continues downward from here, carving kisses into your body and leaving behind colorful little bruises that send liquid fire running through your veins. The further he goes, the more he must uncover, and the only thing standing in his way is the robe you’re hardly wearing.

“Can I…?” he asks in a hoarse whisper, fingers already toying with the sash.

“Not like you haven’t seen everything already,” you mutter, pulling his face in to kiss him again.

His free hand snakes down to squeeze your ass while the other tugs on the loose knot, the silky material now free to tumble down your body like a waterfall, hitting every curve along the way. In one fell swoop, Alhaitham takes you to his bed, picking up right where he left off: with a depraved kiss that speaks more than he ever could in relaying the underlying lust that clouds his mind.

“Beautiful.” The word slips out without a second thought. It’s the first time he's ever said it outright. Beneath the fervor, there’s a special sentiment that cushions his tone. It has you buzzing with warmth from the inside out, but whether it’s contentment or embarrassment, you don’t know. Biting your lip, you turn your head to the side, refusing to meet his gaze.

He finds it infinitely amusing that for all your openly brazen flirtations…

“You’re not getting shy on me now, are you?”

You respond by stubbornly grappling at the edge of his shirt, nails grazing against his muscled abdomen in the process. The startling sensation crackles through his nerves, sending his cockhead twitching in delight.

“It’s only fair I get to see you too,” you mumble, in what little time you have between kisses. Alhaitham pulls away, a brow quirked in mild amusement. Pausing, he takes this chance to drink in the sight of your naked figure for the second time, though tonight there’s no need to look away.

It’s exhilaratingly surreal to see your body marked by the undeniable testaments of his touch. It manifests on your skin, where you’re decorated with clusters of little bruises signed by his lips. In your chest, as it heaves for air after all the breaths he’s stolen from right out of your lungs. It persists in the way your eyes draw him in, inviting him, daring him to do more. In how your lips, though slightly swollen, wear the same coquettish grin that’s enchanted him time and again. With no other choice but to surrender to your demands, Alhaitham lifts his shirt over his head, tossing it to the side without a care.

You’ve always thought the man to be handsome, but you’re left wonderstruck as your eyes wander across his bare skin. It’s not like his usual attire leaves much to the imagination, but Alhaitham undressed, is still a sight to see. His toned chest and sculpted stomach, well defined arms… Chiseled by the gods themselves, you think as the corner of your lips quirk just the slightest bit upwards.

“Enjoying the view?” It’s funny how much his smug smile contrasts with the mottled pink that colors his shoulders and dusts across his cheeks. His skin only flushes more when you trace a finger over the gem on his chest, tantalizingly slow as you make your way down his sternum, and only stopping to lightly flick at one of his nipples. Alhaitham’s breath hitches and you can practically see his muscles as they tense.

“Very much,” you answer, hands sinking lower. “So won’t you show me more?”

He catches you by your wrist when he feels you tugging at his waistband, and it takes everything for him to ignore the wanton desperation that’s quickly clouding his mind. It’s difficult, but out of sheer will, he manages to hold back, if only by a thread.

Gently, he pulls your chin up to face him. Want hides beneath his teal gaze, but there’s a softness that truly shines through, encapsulating the delicate balance between risk and reward.

His hands shift to caress your cheek, before he moves in to steal another kiss. This time it’s sweeter, more chaste. Alhaitham kisses you slow and passionate, interwoven with a tenderness that causes your heart to swell in your chest.

“You sure you want to do this?”

Your resounding ‘yes’ breathes a renewed ardor into his actions as he lowers you onto your back. Little by little, he makes his way down your body, leaving wet kisses everywhere except where you want him most. A kiss here, a lick there—the heat that pools in your belly only grows by the second, but a harsh suck right below your hip causes your breath to hitch and your cunt to drool more in response while you whine and attempt to rub your legs together for any sort of friction.

They are, however, aptly spread back apart when he hooks his arms beneath your thighs and pulls you closer to where he kneels at the edge of the bed.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, “and we’ve only just begun.” Alhaitham lets out a low chuckle as he presses another kiss to your inner thigh. It’s enough to have you shivering in anticipation, the reverberating tremors of his deep voice going straight to your pulsing hole, wet with the slick of your arousal. One of his hands moves to hold you down as you jolt when his teeth graze against the delicate skin.

“Will you please just hurry up,” you’re barely able to get all your words out before your voice breaks into a breathless gasp as he takes you by surprise, dipping his head down to lick a long stripe up your glistening folds and flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue once he reaches the top.

Talented in more ways than just words, you find out firsthand exactly how good he is with his tongue. Like a man starved, he laps up all you have to give, while your gushing hole happily churns out more slick. But it isn’t nearly enough. Especially not with the way you’re grinding into his face and singing praises to his name.

Alhaitham doesn’t consider himself an arrogant man, but he’s never loved hearing the sound of his own name more. It falls through your lips in a trail of whimpers, your pretty little cries music to his ears, delicate and lyrical. His tongue prods at your entrance, occasionally dipping into your warmth, and as he closes in, his nose bumps against your puffy clit. It has you keening, and your hands come flying to tangle in his ashen hair as your voice splits into a sharp gasp.

He takes a mental note of your reaction before moving to suckle on the sensitive bundle of nerves, drawing out another beautifully broken sob. With every exhale, and every swipe of his tongue, Alhaitham breathes life into your cunt—leaving it to drip with arousal and clench around nothing. Your fingers curl in his tresses and you tug hard. The low groan he emits reverberates through your body; the rumbling vibrations of his own pleasure sends you crawling to your high.

But he soon pulls away and you’re quick to let out a pitched cry in protest. He peers up from between your parted thighs, sharp eyes hungrily taking in the sight of you squirming at the loss of contact.

“Haitham,” you whine pitifully, hips blindly stuttering in search of his touch, “don’t stop.”

Oh how the tables have turned. Before him, your tiny hole clamps around nothing and a sly grin creeps onto his face, devilishly handsome and glistening with your essence that so freely drips down his chin. You’ve teased him relentlessly during the span of your partnership, and as per your logic, it’s only fair he gets to do the same.

“Beg for it,” he purrs. His warm breath fans across your folds, sending you into a frenzied fluster from the bottom up, and you feel as if you’re going to melt.

“P-please…” It’s difficult to come up with any words, much less the right words, to say when the overwhelmingly wanton desire for him to just touch you again, has your brain enveloped in a thick haze. “Need you…Haitham please…”

His name, entangled within the sweet pleas that fall from your lips, has his cock twitching again, eager to be freed from the constraints of his pants. But if he can ignore the wet spot forming from his own precum, then he can do the same to the way his hips seem to move on their own, slowly rutting against the bed. He’s a patient man, he can wait. You on the other hand…

You’re so needy for him, so lost trying to chase your own pleasure, that it doesn’t even register when he wets two fingers in his mouth, unable to process anything until you feel the faint stretch in your cunt that has you trembling in anticipation. His fingers slide easily into your creamy insides, and he only watches in amusement at the way your hips buck, silently begging him for something more than the painfully slow, lazy way he’s pumping in and out of you.

“You’re already so tight...” He lets out a breathy chuckle as he scissors you open, resisting the way your velvety walls come down, hugging every inch of the digits inside you. “How are you even going to take me, hm?”

You open your mouth to respond but nothing ever comes out, save for the faint breath of a moan that manages to escape. If you were in the right state of mind, you would’ve been sure to fire back something smart, however, your thoughts have been reduced to fixate on Alhaitham, who’s rather keen on keeping it that way.

He moves his wrist, twisting and turning, relentlessly searching until the pads of his fingers press against a spot just right, that it has your toes curling and back arching off the bed in a loud cry. He curls his fingers, bullying the spongy spot until echoes of your melodic mewls are undeniably present amongst the lewd squelching of your wetness. It sends him reeling and growing impossibly harder—oh how he so adores the way you unravel before him.

Your body runs hotter than ever and you feel the coil in your belly tighten, ready to snap. You’re going to cum. You’re so close. Just a little more. It repeats like a mantra in your head, but your impending climax dissipates as he draws both fingers back out, leaving you dangling at the precipice with a distressed wail, frustration pathetically painted across your face.

Why did he just do that? Your eyes are large and laced with tears that quiver and threaten to spill down your face. Ignoring your futile attempt at garnering pity, Alhaitham only continues to taunt you.

“Will you look at that?” he says, toying with the messy slick that glosses over his middle and index fingers like webbing, stretching and breaking along to the movements of his hand. It’s such damning evidence of how much you need him, but it’s also somehow mesmerizing, so much so that you’re unable to look away. It doesn’t help that your sopping cunt only weeps more at the sight, absentmindedly fluttering around nothing.

He drags you out of your thoughts as he unexpectedly takes your clit back into his mouth. His hot tongue swirls around your bud, effectively setting your veins on fire, then takes the chance to throw your earlier words back at you.

“Tell me what you’d like me to do,” he says, mouth never leaving the little nub.

You want him to make you cum, is what you want to say—or rather, you want him to let you cum, considering how he so cruelly ruined your earlier orgasm. But it all only translates into a litany of unintelligible whimpers, and Alhaitham smiles, the mischief twinkling in his eyes now glaringly apparent. He can’t help how endearing it is, that you, who always has so much to say, is now struggling to answer even the simplest of questions.

“Use your words. I want to hear that pretty voice of yours.”

“I want… I need…” you’re only able to make out a few words in between your ragged breaths before you’re interrupted by your own broken sob as he sucks down hard on your abused clit.

“Hm? What was that?”

“Want to cum…” you choke out, eyes sliding shut as you try again with your best efforts.

The latter half of your sentence warps until it rises an octave and melts into a shaky moan. Alhaitham barely gives you just enough time to finish before three lithe fingers find their way into your cunt without warning, slipping past your wet folds with ease. The dull pain of an added finger stuffed into your tiny hole, has you keening, your own knuckles turning white from your steel grip on the bed sheets.

With a sweep of his tongue, he laves over your swollen clit again, sending shivers through to your core as you feel the tension return in your abdomen, this time wound even tighter from the way he continues to fuck your already sensitive cunt.

“ ‘m so close…please,” your breath catches in your throat as you whimper and squirm. “Please Haitham, please-”

It’s beyond his own belief how he managed to wrangle you into his bed; the beautiful mermaid who had first tried to drown him, who was always so outspoken and bold— now reduced to a begging, whimpering mess on his sheets. For that, he mentally pats himself on the back and decides to take pity on you.

“Come on, mermaid. Let me hear you sing.”

Immediately, you feel his fingers curl, right up against the very spot that has you seeing stars, exactly as he had intended. He drags his teeth carefully, lightly grazing your swollen clit, effectively ripping out a loud, visceral scream as you finally tip over the edge in an earth shattering orgasm.

Waves of pleasure continue to wash over you as Alhaitham finger fucks you through your high, vigilantly hitting that sweet, spongy spot over and over again without mercy. You’re left quivering, fingers desperately grasping at the bed sheets, trying to find something, anything to hold on to. His hand, the one that isn’t three knuckles deep inside you, moves to hold your hips down as they twitch in the settling overstimulation.

A satisfied hum rumbles in the back of his throat as he finishes off with an easy kiss to your inner thigh. He finally slows down his movements as you ride out your high, though the shallow, wet noises as he rocks his fingers in and out of you, seem all the more erotic against the backdrop of your dissipating cries.

“Can’t get enough of you,” he coos. “Such a pretty thing—so gorgeous when you cum for me.” Alhaitham continues to whisper sweet flatteries that have you preening until he feels you clench weakly around his fingers once more. He raises a brow, the beginnings of a small smirk forming on his face.

“Of course you like to be praised.” Despite the lilt in his voice, he draws his soiled digits out with care, though you still shudder as he passes through your sensitive folds.

“Shut up.”

Even as you sit up to catch your breath, your eyes wander over to the man’s bare upper body, before they drift down to the impressive tent bulging from his pants. Suddenly, you’re made painfully aware of how utterly empty you are. Arousal pulses through you, once again dripping out of your cunt at the thought of being stuffed full.

Your obvious staring doesn’t go unnoticed; and neither does the way you shift as you’re rubbing your thighs together for more friction. Your shamelessly perverse act only reinforces the thrum in his already rock hard cock.

“Open up.” You do as you’re told, intuitively wrapping your lips around his long fingers, cheeks hollowing as you clean off the mess you had left. It spurs him on, the way you hold his gaze with those large doe eyes, blinking so lasciviously when he draws them back out, leaving behind a trail of saliva that snaps like gossamer on your lips.

“What, haven’t had enough of me yet?” He teases you, yet the slight waver in his voice as he struggles to mask just how much he’d like to cum right then and there, says otherwise.

“Not nearly enough.”

Your playful wit is nothing new to him. And while Alhaitham considers himself to be quite well versed in how you love to play coy, an expert in navigating around your flirtations—he’s far from immune to your coquettish displays. He’s only human after all…

So it’s no fault of his own that you drive him absolutely insane.

Pupils blown wide and dilated with lust, he dips down until you can feel his hot breath on the shell of your ear, “I hope you don’t regret that.” His smooth baritone sends a shiver down your spine until it pools between your already sticky thighs, a vague promise of what’s to come.

Before you know it, he catches you in another eager kiss, rough and hopelessly greedy, as you fall back onto the mattress without a care. It only heightens your sense of urgency that he can’t help but grind into you.

His normal attire barely hides his bulge, but even underneath these loose clothes, the outline of his cock stands tall and unmistakably erect against the fabric—which you desperately need removed now, as you fumble with the waistband. Alhaitham chuckles lightly into the kiss before pulling away. Message received.

He moves quickly, pants and underwear hastily thrown to the side and forgotten, because how could you possibly think of anything else when he stands before you, hands fisted around his magnificent cock, grunting at the little ounce of relief as he gives himself a few quick pumps. Precum dribbles from the flushed pink tip and your eyes follow as he spreads it along the impressive length. You can’t help but think that it’s…pretty. And oh how you adore pretty things.

He lines himself up at your entrance, cockhead just barely dipping inside as he hovers over you, and for the first time tonight, you realize just how incredibly vulnerable you are now, laid bare before him, ripe for the taking. But it’s okay if it’s him. Whether it’s the fuzziness mulling in your head, or your cunt that’s thinking for you, anything is fine as long as it’s Alhaitham.

Above you, he swallows harshly and you can see the slow bob of his throat as he does so. “Tell me if you need to stop,” he murmurs. The rasp in his voice makes it apparent that it’s taking every ounce of fortitude not to just slam his entire length into you.

The first hiccupped gasp that escapes your lips has him smiling smugly as he pushes in, splitting you open with ease from how wet you are. But the stretch as you struggle to accommodate his girth burns despite your previous preparation; he’s just so much bigger than his fingers. Inch by agonizing inch, he stretches you wider, whispering sweet nothings while he stuffs you full of his cock.

“You’re doing so well,” he praises, though it’s quickly drowned out by the sound of your heart beating in your ears. Every time you think he’s done, he only continues to push further inside. Your head spins at how full you already feel, unconsciously tightening around him and drawing out a choked curse that rolls tactlessly off his tongue. There’s no helping the way his self control fades when you’re squeezing him like that, your needy cunt intent on sucking him all the way in.

“Fuck,” he rasps. It’s foreign and depraved and so vulgar compared to his usually eloquent speech—not that it isn't also incredibly attractive hearing him lose his composure like that—but it’s even more so especially because you’re the one making him feel this good. Your heart flutters at the thought and the vibrations of another muffled grunt ripple against your skin when you reflexively bear down again.

Alhaitham bottoms out in one final push, sending you reeling at how the thickest end of his shaft forces your little hole to stretch even wider to accommodate the width. A hitched cry leaves your throat and your arms fly to wrap around his neck, pulling him close as he presses soothing kisses along your jaw, though it does little to quell the heat rapidly igniting throughout your body.

“Are you alright?” There isn’t an ounce of teasing in his tone when he pauses to glance down, giving you a moment to adjust while ensuring you’re okay.

Your hum of approval is all he needs to start moving in languid strokes that fill you to the brim, his shallow thrusts so lewdly squelching to the tune of your wetness. Each slow drag of his cock forces you to feel very ridge and vein as he grinds back and forth, pulling soft mewls out of you until they melt into breathless whines pleading for something more.

“Faster…f-faster please.”

Who was he to deny you, when you’ve been taking him so well? Sliding ever so slowly, Alhaitham all but pulls out, leaving only the very tip of his cock to kiss your entrance. You don’t even have time to process the jarring emptiness before he slams his entire length back in with a single thrust, powerful enough to send your entire body jostling from the impact. Your back arches in pleasure, your head thrown back in a silent scream as your mouth falls agape, the sound dying before it’s ever able to leave your throat.

Alhaitham is relentless when he starts fucking you in earnest. The gentleness from earlier is gone, replaced by the callous way he repeatedly pounds into you, burying himself to the hilt every single time. He’s hitting depths you never thought possible, with each thrust sending shockwaves that ripple through you until it scrambles your mind, shattering that last piece of lucidity stubbornly holding you together.

“That’s it. Take it, just like that,” he coos, but you're too fogged over to comprehend his words. It’s clear your mind is currently occupied by other matters; matters such as the chant of his name atop your long string of strangled cries.

He revels at how pliant you are underneath him—so stimulated and keening out in pleasure at everything he does, greedy cunt eagerly swallowing every inch he offers, pulling him in with every snap of his hips.

His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking on the nub while he twirls the other between his fingers, groaning when your nails dig into his shoulders, imprinting crescents onto his skin. The added stimulation elicits another set of frantic whimpers, and the familiar tightness in your abdomen returns.

“Haitham I’m…I’m so…” Close, he deducts. He can tell by the way your walls close around him.

Half of him wants to watch you struggle with your words in between all your panting and moaning, wants to withhold your sweet release until you can speak properly while he continues to piston in and out of you. The other half, driven by his wanton throbbing, slides a hand over the curve of your ass, lifting your leg to angle himself just right before plunging deep inside you, hitting that same spot from before that had you seeing stars.

Loud, broken sobs tear through the room as his tip mercilessly drills into the spongy spot with pinpoint precision. Your nails rake down his back, and a sharp hiss manages to escape from his lips. It only fuels him more, makes his movements more erratic. Over and over, hit after hit, Alhaitham delivers an exhilarating pleasure that drives you to the edge of delirium. Warmth blooms in the pit of your stomach threatening to spill over and seep into every crevice of your being.

It’s too much. It’s so good. It’s not enough. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take.

“I can feel you falling apart around me.” The corners of his mouth lift in a smug grin, ignoring the fact that his voice comes out in ragged huffs, uneven from his labored breathing.

There’s no use denying how much you affect him as well—not when fire licks his body, coloring his pale skin flush. Nor when his expression is clearly strained, trying so desperately to hold on to his crumbling composure. You’d notice if you still had the capacity to process anything at all, but alas…

He lowers his head into the crook of your neck, nipping lightly at the tender skin before switching to your native tongue. “C’mon my beautiful mermaid…give it to me. Cum for me.”

The white hot bliss that sweeps across your body is maddening and it leaves you absolutely shattered. The vibrato in your voice cracks as you scream and sob, body going impossibly taut. You’re desperately gasping for air, drowning in the waves of euphoria that wash over you, but it pulls you in and drags you further down into delirium. You can’t think, you can’t speak. You can’t stop the trembling in your thighs and you can’t stop your cunt from spasming as he continues to fuck into you.

His pace slows but his strokes are longer and deeper, as if he’s trying to ingrain himself permanently within your walls. Your moans rise in pitch, turning to whimpers when his thrusts continue past your orgasm and into the settling overstimulation, his cock still taking from you where there’s no more to take.

You’ve never felt more like a paradox than you do now. Your head is the clouds, while your body feels heavier than ever. You’re painfully sensitive, squirming to get away as he chases his own release, yet your cunt still pulses and begs to milk his fat cock dry.

Weak arms reach up to cup his face, pulling him in for a lasting kiss, breathing him in like the air you so desperately need in your lungs. When you pull away, your eyes are so dazed and lidded, not yet recovered from the intensity of your orgasm, but already prickling with tears from the burn of overstimulation.

“Make me yours.”

Alhaitham buries his head in the crook of your neck; there’s no hope of keeping up his composure now. In fact, it’s a wonder he didn’t come from those words alone. You already are, he tells himself. There’s nobody else he could ever want; nobody else could ever compare to how perfect you are for him.

With a few final thrusts, he presses his weight into you and sinks his cock as deep as he can. He lets out a tattered moan and his hips stutter as he follows you over the edge, the warmth of his hot cum spilling into your insides.

A fleeting thought crosses your mind: Maybe you want to stay like this forever. So warm and tingly and speared open in all consuming pleasure.

His body slumps against yours, relaxed and utterly at peace. In the numbing midst of his high, Alhaitham’s mind is for once, a couple beats slower than his palpitating heart.

“I love you.”

He wasn’t thinking when it had slipped out of his mouth. The words came so naturally, rolled off his tongue so easily. It’s too late by the time he realizes just what he’s said; he hopes to god you didn’t hear him, but it’s the only thing you catch amongst all the white noise. He loves you. Alhaitham loves you.

It replays on a loop inside your head but your jumbled mess of a brain can only process so much right now. “Love…you…” you barely manage to scrape out. He quiets your empty babbles with another kiss, muffling your whines as he gently—though reluctantly—pulls out of your embrace. You shudder and whine at the loss.

“Easy now,” he soothes, distracting you with praises and soft pecks to your temples. To you, the emptiness in your cunt feels all too foreign, but he can’t help but stare at the lecherous sight of your combined fluids dripping out of your hole. He can already picture it in his head; the wet noise of your slick and his cum, all shoved back into you so that not a single drop is wasted…

Alhaitham shakes the thought from his head, forcibly tearing his eyes away before his own mind can betray him. He excuses himself before soon returning with a glass of water and a warm, wet towel in hand.

Slowly but surely, your lungs steady, and the fog dissipates, and you’re finally able to anchor yourself back to reality. A reality where your throat is dry, hoarse from all the retrospectively embarrassing sounds he had dragged out of you, and your limbs feel so heavy, as if your bones have all but dissolved into jelly.

“Gonna clean you up, okay?”

With your permission, he helps sit you up, passing you the glass of water before he begins wiping off the excess fluid between your legs. The towel is rough against the still sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you jolt. Immediately, he utters an awkward apology, looking up to gauge your reaction.

Water, split from the sudden movement, drips down your chin. Loose pieces of hair stick to your forehead; the thin sheen of sweat that coats your skin makes sure of that. To look so disheveled yet so gorgeous at the same time…you’re absolutely enchanting in the afterglow. A flicker of pride rushes through him—he did that. The proof was in the bites and bruises littered across your skin. He smiles, sheer adoration present in his eyes.

Your soft giggle breaks his train of thought. “What are you—” A yawn. “What are you looking at?” The chirp in your tone peaks just the tiniest bit out of your sleep-laden voice, but you’re too worn out to wait for an answer, opting to fall back onto the mattress instead. It’s not long before you fully yield to the exhaustion.

You look so peaceful in your sleep, so human, that he almost forgets you’re not. Still, he wonders how it would feel to hold you in his arms as he sleeps. To wake up beside you and watch as the sunlight illuminates your features.

Would it be selfish of him to indulge just a little more?

Tossing the towel aside, he joins you under the safety of his covers. He wraps an arm around your frame, pulling you close, holding you right next to where his heart beats in his chest. Alhaitham presses a soft, last kiss to the top of your head before he too, drifts off to sleep.

When morning comes and the golden sun arises, everything will return as it was. Dreams and other such wishful delights are of the moon’s sovereignty, so tonight, let him hold on to this reverie for just a little while longer.

a/n2: This was my very first smut piece so I hope you enjoyed :’) Since this is an extra chapter, I tried not to include any details that would drive the plot too much, but ending it with just a tiny bit of angst to transition to the next part. thank u for reading ! ♡

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usagii-bun · 1 month ago

Text

⭑.ᐟ 𝖻𝗅𝗎𝗋𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌| 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝖿𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗈𝗋 ! 𝖺𝗅𝗁𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝗑 𝖼𝖺𝗆𝗀𝗂𝗋𝗅! 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 — 𝗇𝗌𝖿𝗐 𝟣𝟪+

— (𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝖻𝗒 𝖾𝗋𝗂𝗂𝗆𝗒𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝗇 𝗑.)

part 1

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒...in which you are a cam girl and he is your favorite viewer OR in which you are a final year college student and he is your new professor.

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾... this is from my ao3, so enjoy <3

4.6k words

usagiibun2024🐇

Your half-open laptop sat forgotten on the couch, glowing with the low hum of an unfinished series you had tried to binge the night before. Eyes half-closed, you reached for your phone, fumbling to check the time.

8:30 a.m.

“Shit!”

You shot out of bed, tripping over the tangled sheets, heart pounding with the cold rush of adrenaline that only comes from missing something important. Today wasn’t just any day; it was the first lecture of the semester, and you were running late.

You quickly ran into the bathroom, throwing your clothes off and jumping into the shower. Your heart racing frnatucally as you quickly showered and turned it off almost slipping when you got out. The mirror offered you little comfort after you had tied your hair up messily, and threw on the first outfit you managed find—a crumpled sweater and jeans—looked less like ‘casual academic chic’ and more like ‘someone's given up.’ Still, it would have to do. You can go for the 'casual academic chic' tomorrow. Grabbing your bag, you bolted out the door, barely locking it behind you.

The world outside was already moving, buzzing with the noise of morning commuters and their routines. Your apartment building—an old, ivy-covered structure crammed between a café and a bookshop—seemed to blend into the city as you jogged down the street. The crisp autumn air clawed at your skin, urging you to move faster as the sounds of traffic and chatter filled the space around you.

The university campus wasn’t far, but today it felt like each step dragged you deeper into a sinking swamp. Your mind still swirled with the fog of sleep, your heart pounding as the towering lecture hall loomed ahead. A relic of academia, the stone building had seen its share of anxious students, no doubt making their way inside just like you. You could practically hear the ghost of every misstep made before you echoing off the ivy-covered walls.

You pushed open the heavy door, wincing as it creaked. The dim hallway was bathed in the dull yellow light of old fixtures, a stark contrast to the loud murmur of conversation from students filtering in. The quiet tap of your shoes on the worn wooden floor seemed deafening to your own ears.

Don’t be too late. Please.

Reaching the door to the lecture hall, you hesitated, already hearing the smooth, unhurried voice of the professor inside. His words were clear, deliberate, and somehow both calm and utterly dismissive. You slipped in quietly, praying no one would notice.

But then that voice, cool and laced with biting sarcasm, pierced through the room like a knife.

" Ah, nothing says commitment like showing up halfway through the lecture. Punctuality is, of course, the mark of true brilliance."

Your heart dropped. The entire class shifted uncomfortably, the air heavy with awkwardness. Your eyes flicked to the front of the room, but the professor hadn’t even glanced at you. His attention remained fixed on the screen, as if your tardiness was barely worth acknowledging beyond his cutting remark.

You ducked your head, praying you could melt into the crowd of students who were all pretending not to notice.

Settling into a seat at the back, you let out a slow breath. Great. First lecture of the semester, and already, you’d made an impression.

Alhaitham stood at the front, illuminated by the projector’s glow, a man who seemed entirely comfortable in the unyielding rigidity of academia. His pale skin stood out against the dark slate walls of the lecture hall, and his gray hair caught the light—silver at the tips with faint turquoise strands peeking through, subtle but noticeable. His eyes, those unnerving turquoise and gold-rimmed orbs, scanned the room without emotion, as if every student were a puzzle to be solved. His presence commanded attention without demanding it; there was an effortless authority about him, cold and unapologetic.

Everyone knew about him—the prodigy with an unrivalled intellect. But it was his pragmatism that made him infamous. He didn't mince words, nor did he soften his criticism. In his mind, academia was a battlefield, and if you weren’t equipped, you’d be left behind. At just 27, he was already regarded as one of the brightest minds in linguistics, with a list of publications and conference talks that read like someone twice his age. The department had celebrated his arrival like a prized acquisition after the sudden retirement of his predecessor.

As the lecture went on, his words became a blur, and your thoughts wandered. You’d heard the stories. Alhaitham had published papers before most people could finish their dissertations. He was already considered a leading figure in linguistics, and he’d barely been teaching for a year.

You looked around, catching glimpses of students furiously scribbling notes, trying to keep up. But you… you weren’t even processing his words. You were too busy stewing in your own frustration. He wasn’t just smart—he was smug. His entire demeanor screamed ‘I’m better than you,’ and somehow, that got under your skin.

The worst part? He was brilliant. There was no denying that. The ease with which he unraveled complex theories was almost infuriating. It wasn’t just knowledge; it was a performance of intellect, delivered with such cold precision that it made you feel small.

Your phone buzzed causing your eyes to widen as you quickly looked up towards Professor Alhaitham explaining something from a slide. You slide your phone on your desk as you glanced down briefly.

A request for a private session.

You rolled your eyes, stuffing the phone back into your pocket. The cam sessions weren’t supposed to interfere with your life like this. It was just supposed to be something you did on the side. Something that helped keep the bills paid.

When you’d started, it was out of desperation. You had needed to make money, and quickly. Your mother kicked you out due to a dispute —getting by was a struggle. At first, you had gotten a regular job at a coffee shop. But it wasn’t enough. Not even close.

Then a friend had suggested camming. At first, you’d been horrified by the idea. Sitting in front of a camera, doing… that? It felt disgusting, degrading. But after months of struggling, you’d caved. What was supposed to be a temporary fix had become part of your routine. Log in, entertain, log off. Now, it was less of a thrill and more of a chore. You hated to admit it, but it paid better than any job you could have found as a student.

Pushing those thoughts aside you tried to pay attention to professor Alhaitham but you ended up doodling inside your book and also ended up writing a grocery list.

Finally, the lights flickered back on as the lecture ended, and Professor Alhaitham’s voice broke the silence once more. "Chapters two through four by next week. We’ll see who’s keeping up."

He snapped his laptop shut, a final punctuation mark to the end of the lecture, and students began packing their bags. You sighed, stuffing your own notes away as you slung your bag over your shoulder, the door creaked open behind you.

“Hey, wait up!” Layla’s voice pierced through your haze.

You turned to see her weaving through the chairs, looking equally disheveled but far less bothered. She caught up to you with an apologetic grin, her messy hair bouncing with each step. “You okay? You looked pretty rattled back there.”

You huffed, running a hand through your own hair. “I was late. Professor Alhaitham made sure everyone knew. God, what a prick.”

Layla snorted, raising an eyebrow. “Oh no. What did he say? I was kind of zoned out”

“Something about ‘dedication’ and ‘showing up halfway through.’ Like he’s never been late to anything in his entire life.”

Layla chuckled, shaking her head. “I swear, that guy is an enigma. Alot of people dislike him for the way he behaves, but alot of people are desperate to be in his class.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“He’s a genius, obviously,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But it’s more than that. There’s something about him. He doesn’t care what people think, and he never panders. Some people like that kind of honesty.”

"Honesty, my ass. He’s just an asshole."

Layla laughed, nudging your arm. "Maybe, but also I've heard some people have joined his class just because of how hot he is, a bit ridiculous I do say." she says as a yawn escapes past her parted lips, her head gently resting against your shoulder as she tries to fight off fatigue.

You glanced back toward the front of the lecture hall. Alhaitham was still there, gathering his things with calm efficiency, his sharp features illuminated by the faint sunlight streaming in through the tall windows. His movements were deliberate, controlled, like everything in his world followed some intricate set of rules only he understood. You hated how Layla had a point. He was good-looking, in a detached, untouchable kind of way.

You noticed Layla almost falling off to sleep on your shoulder so you gently poked her nose causing her to wake up in shock.

"I think you need to lay off those thesis papers for awhile and get a good sleep" you said to her as she mumbles something and pouts.

You and Layla left the hall, your thoughts drifted again to the complicated web of your life outside these walls. The nights spent streaming, the chat boxes filled with faceless usernames, the anonymous attention that came with your side job. You pushed it to the back of your mind—this wasn’t the time. But still, that strange double life you led lingered like a shadow you couldn’t quite shake.

You slipped back into the comfort of your cluttered apartment, the memory of his sharp words lingered.

When you finally made it back to your apartment, the weight of the day clung to your shoulders. Dropping your bag by the door, you let out a heavy sigh and kicked off your shoes, the soft thud of them hitting the floor echoing in the quiet space. It had been a long day—longer than you expected.

You shuffled into the kitchen, deciding to fix yourself something simple. Your fridge wasn’t exactly stocked, but you managed to throw together a sandwich, something to take the edge off your hunger. As you ate, your thoughts wandered to your schedule for the evening, how it always followed the same routine, a strange comfort in the predictability of it.

After a quick meal, you headed into the bathroom. The warm water of the shower washed away the lingering stress of the day, soothing your muscles and easing your mind, if only for a little while. You stayed under the spray longer than necessary, letting the steam fill the room as you tried to clear your head.

But in the back of your mind, you knew what was coming. Once the clock hit nine, you would become someone else—someone confident, mysterious, and unattainable.

Toweling off, you took your time getting dressed, slipping into some comfortable clothes for the moment. You still had some work to finish before the night began.

As you sat at your desk, staring at the open notes on your laptop, your mind started drifting again. It wasn’t just the lingering tension from class that tugged at your thoughts. There was the constant reminder of why you were doing all of this in the first place.

Your mum hadn’t spoken to you in months, ever since she cut you off financially. Her voice echoed in your head, that final conversation where she’d made it clear—you were on your own. You weren’t doing things her way, and so she wasn’t going to help you anymore.

It had been hard to accept at first. The distance between you, the harshness of her words. But you had no choice now. You had to make things work, no matter what.

That was why you found yourself here, every night, doing things you never thought you’d do. Because you had to survive. This was the only way to keep your apartment, to stay in college. And you couldn’t afford to fail—not now, not with everything at stake.

Your eyes scrunched as you diverted your attention from those stressful thoughts to your notes, a few minutes past as you scrolled through the pages as the hours passed and the sky outside darkened, you checked the time. 8:45. Almost time.

You stood up, crossing the room to your closet. Opening the door, you rifled through the few pieces hanging there before finding what you were looking for—a delicate baby pink lingerie set. The fabric was soft, a stark contrast to the role you were about to step into.

Changing quickly, you adjusted the straps in front of the mirror, checking yourself from different angles. You pulled your hair up into a neat ponytail, a subtle touch that helped keep the two sides of your life separate. The girl in the mirror was confident, poised, ready to perform.

But it wasn’t quite 9:00 yet.

You walked over to your laptop and started setting up, adjusting the angle of your webcam, ensuring that it captured your body

By the time the platform loaded, it was exactly 9:00. Notifications immediately began popping up on your screen as you entered the chat. Regulars and new subscribers alike greeted you, their excitement palpable.

They asked about your day, how have you been as the night played out. After idle chatter with your subscribers, it was finally time for what they actually wanted to see.

The highest bidder requested you to use your pink dildo vibrator. A small smile graced your lips. "As you wish, master" you murmured, pulling out the vibrator. Your eyes darted to the chat window, scanning for familiar usernames, but a disappointed pout formed as you noticed he hadn't joined yet. 'He didn't join yet,' you thought, your mood dampening. The chat flared up with messages as viewers noticed your sulky expression.

You quickly plastered on a smile, bringing the dildo close to the camera, then to your face, smiling seductively.

"So, what do you want me to do first?" The next few minutes blurred into a haze of overstimulation. The bluetooth vibrator buzzed inside you, your fingers rubbing against your pussy lips as shudders coursed through you.

Your clit trembled with the constant intensity, and your body gleamed with a sheen of sweat. Your baby pink lingerie clung to your body as your hand found your nipple, pinching and playing until you came again.

The viewers paid extra to speed up the device, pushing you further and further.

Eyes fluttering open briefly, you scanned the chats again.

Your heart skipped a beat when a familiar username appeared User1102. Your thighs trembled as the vibrator reached its highest speed, your body shaking uncontrollably as you came, making a mess along your legs and lingerie. Breathing erratic, vision blurred, you were practically limp from the overstimulation.

User1102: Bunny... take a break. The chat was filled with other messages, people tipping for extra time or requesting private sessions. But your attention was glued to his message.

User1102: I'do like a private session.

[User1102 tipped $100!]

A soft smile formed on your lips despite your exhaustion. The other subscribers seemed annoyed, trying to out-tip him, but you already knew your choice.

"I'm super tired right now, so I'm only taking one private session! Thank you, guys, see you next week Tuesday~" You threw in a small finger heart, trying to ignore the love confessions and anger from you ending your live so soon.

After ending the public live stream, your heart raced as you adjusted your hair and lingerie, sending a private request to User1102. The request was accepted, and your body appeared on screen.

You smiled, head tilted slightly. "Hi, what can Ms. Bunny do for you tonight?" you asked, your voice low and sultry, though your heart pounded with nerves. You couldn’t stop the thoughts from racing in your head.

Why do I always get so excited for this particular subscriber? Why does he make my heart race faster and my cheeks flush pink?

The first time User1102 appeared in your live stream, someone had requested you to overstimulate yourself to the point of discomfort. Eyes glazed with tears, you tried to push through the discomfort, but your mind kept wandering. Rent was due, and the $400 being offered was something you couldn’t turn down. But you felt pathetic, disgusted even, for putting yourself through that pain.

That was when User1102 first message caught your attention.

User1102: Stop what you're doing. You're clearly uncomfortable.

The original requester got angry, but then

User1102: tipped $400.

User1102: End the live. I'd like a private session with you.

[User1102 tipped $200]

Your movements had stopped, stunned by the sudden change. The other subscribers were furious, but you nervously smiled and ended the stream. His private session that night had been different from any other. No requests for anything sexual just for you to drink water and change into something comfortable. He'd only stayed for a few minutes to make sure you felt better, then sent a simple message before leaving.

'Don't do things you feel uncomfortable doing.'

You were utterly confused, could the person have been someone who has mistakenly tumbled upon your stream from an ad?

You had'nt expected to see him again, but he came back for the next session. And the one after that. And eventually, you started looking forward to his presence, even if you didn't know what he looked like. --- You let out a soft sigh, your fingers shaking slightly as you adjusted your lingerie on screen.

User1102 message popped up again.

User1102 : are you okay bunny to do something small for me ?

You quickly nod your head eagerly, already ready to do whatever he asked (as long as it wasn't some weird ass kink).

User1102: okay, Bunny, grab the dildo you used earlier.

Your eyes widened slightly at the straightforward request. Hesitantly, you reached for the pink dildo that was still slick from earlier. You toyed with it in your hands for a moment, waiting for his next command.

User1102: Spit on it.

You froze for a second, processing his request. Sure, you'd done things like that before, but it was unexpected from him. Still, you complied.

Leaning forward, you let your saliva drip onto the tip of the dildo.

User1102: Now, Bunny, be a good girl and clean your mess up.

Your pussy throbbed at the words. Slowly, you began sucking at the dildo, cleaning off your spit with your tongue, trailing it down the length of the toy. As you worked, a notification flashed on the screen.

User1102: Play with yourself, Bunny.

Your hand left your breast, fingers finding your clit as you jolted on the bed. The added stimulation forced a moan out of you, louder than you'd intended, but you couldn't stop.

User1102: You're so pretty, making a mess all over.

The tension in your stomach tightened, your vision blurring as you angled your fingers just right. The coil in your stomach snapped, your body was trembling as the final wave of pleasure hit you, vision blurring as you came undone. The clear liquid dripped down your thighs, making a mess of your lingerie and the sheets beneath you. You lay there panting, catching your breath, feeling the heat slowly dissipate from your body.

User1102: You were amazing. Good girl.

Those two words sent another shiver down your spine. Your heart fluttered at the praise, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out of your mouth, genuine and raw: "Anything for you..." Your cheeks flushed red immediately after.

You couldn’t believe you had said that out loud. Your mind was in a haze, the warmth of the afterglow still lingering, but a strange conflict bubbled up inside you.

A small part of you, buried deep down, wanted to scream at yourself for how you felt about this man, a random stranger hidden behind a username. It was foolish to feel like this. A ridiculous crush, on someone who could very well be as old as your father. You closed your eyes for a second, lost in your thoughts, but his next message broke through.

User1102: go clean up, just take it easy when you do so. maybe run a hot shower or bath to relax your muscles. you did really good today.

User1102: Rest now. Goodnight, Bunny.

A soft smile tugged at your lips as you read the message. There was something so caring, so comforting about how he ended things.

He didn’t push for more, didn’t ask for anything beyond what you were comfortable with.

"Good night" you said sweetly, your eyes widening at the 400$ tip he left as he logs off. At this point you should just do private sessions with the amount of money he spends on you.

As the session ended, the room fell into a heavy silence. The screen of your laptop went dark, leaving you in the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You let out a tired sigh, rolling onto your back. It was late, and exhaustion was starting to weigh you down. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but instead, you noticed a notification from your email.

A familiar name caught your eye. Professor Alhaitham. The email had been sent before you even started your session. You clicked it open and skimmed through it, rolling your eyes the moment you saw what it was about: a pop quiz.

"Ugh, that asshole" you muttered under your breath, tossing the phone aside. The last thing you needed was a quiz first thing in the morning. And of course, he just had to schedule it for 8 AM. You groaned in frustration. Now, you'd definitely need a good night's rest.

You’d barely slept the night before, and it showed. Your body still ached from the public and private session you’d done, and your limbs felt heavy as you dragged yourself through the hall. Luckily you had awoken around 5:30 am and was at campus around 7. You still had a few more minutes to spare until your first lecture and the dreaded pop quiz.

You knew shit cause you didn't revise saying that you would do it in the morning. Well that was a lie.

'I'll just wing it' you thought as you walked into the café to grab some coffee. The café’s comforting warmth felt like a small refuge. You needed caffeine, something to drag you out of this groggy haze. The barista handed you the cup. The place was packed with students and lecturers as you squeezed through people. Distracted by your thoughts, you barely noticed where you were going.

And that’s when you collided into something hard.

You walked right into a firm, solid chest. The impact sent a jolt through your body, and for a second, the world seemed to stop. The smell of something clean—like freshly washed linen, with the faintest hint of sandalwood—filled your senses, grounding you even as the embarrassment flooded your face. Your nose twitched from pain as you let out a small 'ow'.

You looked up, and your heart stuttered in your chest.

It was him.

The devil himself, the man who thought it would be great to have a pop quiz in the morning.

Professor Alhaitham.

Oh and also the man who had humiliated you in front of the entire class just yesterday, his words sharp and cutting as if you were some lazy student who had rolled out of bed with no care. And here you were, nearly doing the same thing. You opened your mouth to apologize, but then your eyes met his, and something inside you froze.

He stared at you with a wide-eyed look, his usual unbothered, calm demeanor completely gone. For a moment, his face seemed to soften, surprise mixing with something else you couldn’t place. His light turquoise eyes were framed by long lashes, and you were momentarily struck by how striking his gaze was. His lips parted, as if to say something, but no sound came out.

What was his problem?

You shifted awkwardly, your body still brushing against his, and suddenly you became hyper-aware of how close you were. His chest was firm beneath his clothes, his body warm, and for a brief moment, you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breath. His presence felt… overwhelming. The scent of him, the way his tall frame seemed to block out everything else.

And yet, there was something off. His reaction wasn’t what you’d expect from someone as stoic and composed as he had seemed in class. His eyes flickered with recognition—like he’d seen you somewhere before. But how could that be?

Before you could piece together what was happening, his eyes darted away, the strange look quickly masked by his usual indifference. He straightened, but his hands twitched, as if he were unsure of what to do with them.

You blinked, quickly stepping back, trying to find your voice. “I-I’m sorry,” you stammered, barely able to look at him. You felt like your face was on fire, and all you wanted to do was escape the situation.

He said nothing at first, still staring at you with that strange intensity. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he cleared his throat. “It’s fine,” he murmured, his voice deeper than you remembered from class. But there was something in his tone, something that almost felt… uncertain.

You mumbled another apology, your heart racing, and without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and rushed out of the café, the sound of your pounding footsteps drowning out the whirlwind of confusion in your head.

What the hell was that? You couldn’t shake the strange feeling his reaction had left you with. Was it embarrassment from the way he had insulted you in class? No—this was different. The way he looked at you wasn’t just surprise. There was something else in his eyes.

You shoved the thought out of your mind. It didn’t matter. He was just your professor, and you had to keep it that way, no matter how weird things got. Your eyes brighten when you noticed you didn't spill your coffee as you hurried down the cafe and took a right turn towards the lecture hall that Professor Al haitham's lecture will be held.

Unaware of the turmoil you had just left behind, Alhaitham stood frozen in place. His hands were still shaking, heart hammering in his chest, and he couldn’t stop replaying the moment over in his mind.

It was you.

The cam girl. The one he’d been watching for weeks. The one he had subscribed to under an anonymous name, indulging in those private sessions like they were his guilty pleasure. He had never planned on it becoming more than a fleeting escape—a place where he could admire you from afar, behind the safety of his screen.

But now, standing there, his chest still tingling from where you had bumped into him, the reality hit him with terrifying force.

He knew your body, your voice, the way you moved in front of the camera. But you… you had no idea who he was. To you, he was just the arrogant professor who had mocked you in class.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

His pulse quickened, his mind racing through the implications. His favorite cam girl was now his student, and she didn’t even know.

part 2

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