#◇ haitham : interactions

[chaoticentropy]

The Men of Sumeru

[baby--b4t]

i finally drew some genshin babiesss (；^ω^) i mainly drew this to cope with this nasty cold im trying to get over /nav hopefully everything is readable! (〃＞＿＜;〃)

[thegirlinthecher]

[hydro-eidolon-kaveh]

Haitham woke after about 4 hours or so, and he went to stand up and stretch, only to notice he was 'trapped'

- [ @corrupted-haitham-official ]

*Kaveh was fast asleep and clung to him like a baby koala, legs wrapped around his waist and arms holding his chest loosely*

[editonic]

kaveh is audhd with RSD and hyperempathy

[twilightichor]

@apocryphis asked: [ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 ] : receiver hears sender calling their name while asleep. (from nahida, and could be either nahida hearing dain call for her, or dain hearing her call for him, whichever is most ic for dain!)

Bearers of innocence are known for being unable to die, might as they try. The reason for this incapacity is none other than the lack of complex feelings established in their psyche that makes them perceive the world around them in whites or black, the in between, a sea of colors. Such statement would hold the truest for children, but so does for Aranara regardless of the wisdom they may come to acquire over countless of moons since their birth as a seed.

And it is through reacquainting himself with them as what few reminisce as Golden Nara and others know by tales told meant to be preserved, and fighting alongside them once again in order to keep Marana at bay that Bough Keeper knows the time has come. Stalling Marana, uprooting it and vanquishing it will be only a temporary solution to the ailment that threatens to shower Sumeru anew as Eleazar did the first time lest something is done to prevent it while they have time. If that comes to past, a domino effect is bound to occur, the biggest being the fall of the Sovereign of Dendro whom slumbers under dunes of sand that used to be verdant fields. Her demise naught short of a nuclear bomb of dendro to overflow over the rest of Teyvat and break the natural balance betwixt elements.

But they still have time, and one of them must be the bravest.

◜Bu'er.◞ Long ago has it been since the last time they had a direct conversation in this manner, where both of them allow their psyche to connect once again and see each other in an otherwise pitch black realm of the mind— all byproduct of their unique connection to an even greater network source in this world that brings them together... and Dáinsleif's own with her predecessor. Or rather, her past self in the previous samsara. No matter how much time may come to pass, Dáinsleif knows she listens. She always does— partly due to the misfortune that very few if any would talk to her directly.

◜Reluctant as I am to be bearer of bad news, the time has come. And time waits for no one.◞ For even for long-living beings as them, the changes of the world will not cease from happening. Albescent lashes flutter close to meditate a few moments his next words. Be that as it may, that doesn't change the fact that the God of Dendro has been reduced to nothing in the minds of many whom either believe in Rhukkadevata still or something else. An orchestrated plan that will lead to nothing but catastrophe if it continues its destined route with nobody to interfere. The one who must interfere first is her and her alone. ◜...I am deeply aware that it is easier said than done, but a chain of undesirable events are bound to occur if it isn't stopped. Should that come to pass, not even you would be able to do anything against it.◞

Namely the fall of the Devourer of Gods if she isn't given the freedom she necessitates to act before it is too late.

◜It may be terrifying... and you may be exposed to even cruder truths than what you know. But there are those whom only need to be tipped in the right direction to go with the flow leading to your eventual release, those that will believe in you at the smallest proof of your existence and your reassurance that you never abandoned them.◞ Unlike lies spread about her, about her incompetence and the need to let inept sages do an even worse job than she herself would if she were allowed to grow naturally among people. If there is one caged god that can do miracles in a state of enclosure, it is her. Even more paradoxical yet, one last breath of inspiration from a non-believer: ◜I have faith in you.◞

Because... if there is anyone who understands the importance of stepping in and healing Irminsul, it is you. If there is anyone who never gave up on her people even if many of them already did, it is you. If there is anyone who can pick up a failed attempt at purifying Irminsul entirely where She left it...

It is you.

[franeridan]

been going through the sumeru archon quest finally (met alhaitham)(my camera roll is just a hundred screenshots of his face)(I'm perfectly normal about him wym) and i think i get why people say comparing him to ratio isn't exactly correct but talking to him does feel like talking to ratio in a surprisingly uncanny way I can't even lie about that

[wcrden]

i sort of want to focus on wrio and just maybe one more blog but between zhongli, aether, haitham and arlo idk whoooo

[visionheld]

@stillgrows : "Kaveh, was it?" he asked as he slid into the seat beside the other. Last night was more of a blur than Kaeya had intended, but he hadn't counted on meeting someone he'd hit it off with so well at the bar. What was meant to be just a drink or two to begin his research of the Sumeru alcohol industry became several, and he was beginning to wonder if people in Mondstadt could hold their liquor as well as he thought. He lifted a hand in a small wave toward the owner as they made eye contact before focusing his lone blue eye on Kaveh once more. "I hope your roommate isn't too mad at me. He did seem a little..." Here, Kaeya trailed off, but it wasn't due to a lack of words—no, it was deliberate, allowing Kaveh the space to reveal more about himself.

Sumeru city is by no means a small town. Still, those who reside here are not entirely immune from getting used to seeing familiar faces. Especially if you’re considered famous and renowned like Kaveh, most people seem to know who you are before you’ve even said a word of introduction. It doesn’t help that the architect tends to spend all his nights in the same tavern. Kaveh loves his life and where he lives it. As miserable as it can be, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. Even so, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to meet someone new for once. 

Meeting someone from an entirely different region of Teyvat is even more appealing. Kaveh isn’t entirely unfamiliar with Mondstadt, but he’s exclusively learnt about it in books. Meeting a local is an opportunity he doesn’t come upon often. So Kaveh had easily welcomed the other with open arms the night prior. 

Kaveh is just as welcoming as Kaeya ( Was it Kaeya? Truthfully the details of last night got hazy after the third glass of wine. ) approaches him a second time. The blonde smiles as Kaeya sits beside him, appearing in a warm and amiable mood. However that mood immediately sours the moment Alhaitham is mentioned.

“ Don’t get me started. ” Kaveh punctuates this with a swift swig of his wine, downing the entire glass in one gulp. When he speaks again there’s a slight slur in his speech. “Alhaitham’s a real…a real piece of work.”

He doubts Alhaitham is actually mad at Kaeya. Or if he was, the ire has long since passed. The scribe has an awful temper, but he rarely lets things linger like that. Grudges get in the way of logic and productivity. Most of the time for minor grievances he’ll just let it go. He just happens to have the most unpleasant personality on the planet and never forgets a damn thing. 

Besides, it’s not like Kaeya actually did anything wrong. He was just an innocent bystander. The mess last night was all Kaveh’s fault and Alhaitham knows that. If he were here now he’d probably say something irritating like ‘Kaveh’s emotional instability and alcoholism isn’t Kaeya’s responsibility.’ Kaveh can picture it so vividly in that insufferable know it all voice he has. 

But what does he know, huh? Kaveh bets Alhaitham doesn’t even know why he was so upset to start drinking in the first place. He bets he doesn’t know any of the fascinating things about Mondstadt that Kaeya told him last night. Bet he doesn't even know they make wine out of dandelion seeds over there.

No, he probably knows all that. That bastard knows everything.

“ Boss! ” Kaveh calls out to Lambad across the room, raising his empty glass. “ I'll have another! And keep them coming! ...Please. ”

The blonde only remembers his manners last minute, already too far gone to keep up appearances without a conscious effort. Ordinarily he wouldn't bother, but -- While he has his foreign acquaintance is beside him, he'd like to do his best to make a good impression. Though it might be too late for that, considering Kaeya was there to see Alhaitham throw Kaveh over his shoulder to take him home last night. Archons, what a mess...

Once his fifth glass is poured out and sipped from, Kaveh returns to his original subject.

“ I don't know why I ever decided to be friends with him back at the Akademiya. He's always been like this, bad tempered, rude, and stubborn. ”

“ You know I was pretty much his only friend back in those days. I guess I just...felt bad for him. He was so brilliant, even back then... But it felt like there was a vast desert of distance between him and everyone else. At the time, I think I just wanted to see if I could bridge that gap. But that was my mistake. ”

Kaveh scowls down at his reflection in the burgundy colored wine before downing it all again. He doesn't want to think about Alhaitham anymore tonight. He doesn't want to think anymore tonight period. He just needs to get a few more drinks in and it'll all fade away. It always does.

“ But enough about me... ” He offers Kaeya a lopsided smile, raising his elbow to the table and resting his face on his hand. “ I wanna know more about you! You're probably the most- ” Kaveh hiccups. “ --The most interesting person I've met since the traveler came to the city. What's it like being a knight? Being a calvary captain sounds so glamorous. But I imagine it has it downsides just like any other job. ”

[inanthesis]

@givenfate

"Kaveh, I need your help with something." Words Alhaitham never thought he'd utter again but here he was saying just those, stood in front of their now shared home and calling out through a small crack in the door he'd made so as not to let a certain little intruder that had stalked him here in to wreak havoc.

"Hurry! I can't hold out much longer."

[tavwrote]

one day i'll have my essay written out about how alhaitham's story quest doubles as a peek into dottore's mind and it'll be wild but today is not that day i don't think

[ahaitham]

starter » @tragcdysewn | lumine

"I didn't take you for a coffee drinker." There it was again — the small talk he loathed so very much. Though this face was one he recognizes, despite being in a land he still had yet to call home.

Alhaitham sits down across from her, his own cup of coffee bold and void of any additional additives. He was due for some social interaction for the day.

[foliarlight]

@zhongshen : His gift for Alhaitham takes not the form of a letter, not this year. Instead, the consultant arrives in person, with present in tow. Seeking him amongst his studies, tempting him from his books for an eve, if only to bar the door from unwanted interruption as he presents his present to him. Luxurious silks, draped over every inch of the scholar with delicate touch, tying each knot and layering golden jewelry, and gleaming jade baubles across his body — only to be gently, and methodically, drawn off of him once more to labor his love across the body beneath it all.

On most occasions, he was not fond of surprises — whether good or bad, they typically entailed a change of plans he would rather do without. Yet when he caught glimpse of this unexpected visitor from the east ( a familiar sight ) no such thought crossed his mind. Mayhap the saying was true, and DISTANCE MADE THE HEART GROW FONDER, for what inclinations toward dismissal he might have had with any other, he did not even consider today.

How long had it been since last they saw each other? Far too long, it would appear, as the mere trail of Zhongli's palms upon his bared skin spread a warmth which sent a shiver of pleasant anticipation throughout his frame — and even something so simplistic as finding himself clothed by another carried a sense of intimacy he was not accustomed to, his mind far more enraptured by the deliberate touch than the exquisite silks now cascading down his body.

Fingers thread absently through the consultant's hair, loosening the tie until black strands fall freely over his shoulders, perfectly framing the view below. In the dim glow of the lamps, the gilded fissures spreading across his lover's exposed arms rippled a shimmer across dragon scales, ever so mesmerizing.

❝ Hm ... you should have visited sooner. ❞ An admission bordering into a subtle complaint — as though all this time they had spent apart is solely responsible for how much each touch kindled the heat beneath his skin, how heady the air had grown. His hand travels from the nape of Zhongli's neck to his jawline, fingertips brushing along the edge there. HE WAITS FOR NO ANSWER before he lifts the other's chin, guides him upward into a wanting kiss that melds them together. ( And perhaps it is here that Alhaitham must concede that these special occasions come with one positive, after all. )

[starz222]

hi my skrunkles it is i

you want to interact sooo bad.

[lumiambrose]

smut, minors do no interact !

Your sleep-deprived boyfriend, who wakes up once again in the middle of the night to your plush ass against his crotch, fuelling blood to his groin.

He doesn’t want to wake you, but he knows damn well he won’t be getting any sleep tonight. Not when you're shifting against him every few seconds, feeling his hard-on grow.

Your sleep-deprived boyfriend, who wonders what you must be dreaming about to be so sensitive. Constantly writhing around in his grasp with breathy moans eliciting from your half-parted lips. He hopes it’s about him, and the thought of it only sends more blood rushing.

Fuck. He’s so horny right now. He only has you to blame when he pulls down his boxers, freeing his aching cock as it slaps against your ass. He won’t fuck you yet, of course. He’ll wait till you’re awake for that. But he can’t help himself as he aligns his length between your thighs, letting the soft flesh squeeze him as he gets comfy.

Your sleep-deprived boyfriend, who fucks your warm thighs instead of sleeping. His thrusts are slow and sloppy but desperate nonetheless. His low groans barely audible in the hopes he doesn’t wake you up.

Although, to his dismay, after coming undone all over the mattress, your sleeping figure shifts slowly, coming to.

“Baby?” He doesn't give you the time to question what's happening, especially when his cock has already become hard again.

“Shh, my love. Be a good girl for me, okay?” This time, he fucks you properly. Mixed juices painting your insides whilst your folds are glistening for him as he fucks you through the late of night.

Nagi, Karasu, Rin, Kenma, Kuroo, Iwaizumi, Tendou, Osamu, Diluc, Al Haitham, Kaveh, Wriothesley, Neuvilette, Welt, Luocha, Jing Yuan, Gallagher, Zayne, Xavier + any of your favs

©lumiambrose ─ do not translate, repost, copy any of my works

[saetoru]

BEWARE OF PHAGOCYTIC RAIN — AL-HAITHAM.

kinktober day three — aphrodisiacs ; find masterlist here

synopsis. the akademiya textbook reads as follows: consecrated scorpion stings are not deadly, but it is advised to proceed with caution in the event of encountering one. possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea, and mild sexual arousal. except the textbook lied. it’s not mild. al-haitham and you might need to pause your desert trip for a moment

length. 4.3k words (omg this is the shortest one so far)

contents. minors do not interact, fem! reader, aphrodisiacs + dub con, mentions of injuries and blood (al-haitham gets stung by a consecrated scorpion), reader sits on his lap, hand jobs, unprotected sex, no prep, riding, creampie, implied (future) multiple orgasms, reader is mentioned to have a dendro vision + is a haravatat scholar

notes. i made this up. the new consecrated scorpions lore is that their venom can be a sex stimulant thanks

“haitham,” you complain—although, you probably really shouldn’t. in fact, you definitely should not complain. al-haitham has so graciously allowed you to accompany this trip to the desert, and you should not get in the way. still, your feet ache, and the sun is blaring, and god—would kill you both to have a break? “can’t we just stop for a bit?”

but with you, al-haitham is always patient. you can see him diligently take the time to be patient as he stills and sighs quietly, not letting himself ever get frustrated with you. “it’ll get cold if night falls,” he reasons, “c’mon, you’ll definitely want to rest inside the ruins instead of outside tonight.”

“but baby,” you protest, “my feet hurt.”

“i know,” he nods, like validating your feelings will make them any better, “but the safest option would be to camp inside the ruins instead of out here—”

“hey, haitham?” you cut him off, suddenly whispering quietly as you huddle closer, “what…what’s that?” he looks over his shoulder to where you point—and then he stiffens.

“oh, great,” he hisses, groaning under his breath, “seriously? now?”

what looks like a giant scorpion seems to be pacing in the distance, the large, sharp stinger on its tail clear as day, even from where you stand, a good range away. you’ve never seen one of these before, never even heard of giant scorpions that roam the desert. al-haitham has certainly never told you about seeing them, with all the times he visits the desert himself. he seems rather familiar with them, too, staring exasperatedly off at the beast as it circles the territory you absolutely have to pass.  

“why is there a giant scorpion here? are there always these things in the desert? i’ve never heard of—wait,” you pause, “i have a textbook from the akademiya on desert exploration. i brought it just in case!”

“we don’t need that,” he insists, “i’ve dealt with these plenty of times. just leave it to me.”

you’ve never been to the desert—but al-haitham always mentions the ancient letters he sees in the ruins he explores. it’s tempting; being a scholar is always the never-ending temptation of knowledge—and you are both haravatat scholars, after all. studying an ancient alphabet is enough to make you plead with al-haitham to take you with him on his next trip.

he can’t say no to you, of course—he never can. but it’s your first time here, and evidently…it’s not going exactly as planned. 

you open the book, skimming through the pages before your eyes land on a sketch that looks strikingly similar to the same beast you see in the distance. the textbook reads as follows: consecrated scorpion stings are not deadly, but it is advised to proceed with caution in the event of encountering one. that seems like complete and utter bullshit—this seems rather deadly. 

“haitham,” you whisper, “i think we should leave. this doesn’t seem—”

“we can take it,” he argues, “i’ve taken them before on my own quite a lot in the past.”

“but baby, this one seems a bit big—”

“it’ll be fine,” he assures. 

you sigh, looking back at the book and scanning over the section that goes into detail about its attack patterns. “okay, fine—let me just read over how they attack so i know what to expect.”

phagocytic form—beasts enter phagocytic form immediately when in combat, resulting in an increase in resistance to all elements. there is double the resistance to electro attacks. well, you think, it’s a good thing cyno isn’t the one fighting today—otherwise, you think you might be screwed. 

this is fine. everything is fine. you and al-haitham both have dendro visions; this shouldn’t be too bad, right?

melee combo one—beasts perform a two-part combo with their claws. alright, not too bad. you can easily dodge that, you reason. melee combo two—beasts perform a three-part combo consisting of a single strike with both claws, a flurry of claw strikes while rushing forward, and a projectile fired from its stinger. now that seems a bit troublesome, but you’ve dealt with worse. 

“i’ll take care of it,” al-haitham calls over his shoulder, catching your attention as he draws out his sword. you look up from the pages frantically. 

“wait, i really think we should handle this together if we’re going to take this. just let me read on the attack patterns a bit more—”

he’s already made the first attack. you can hear the angry hiss of the scorpion, can practically see the fury in its beady eyes from behind the thick skull covering its head. al-haitham, to your slight comfort, dodges melee combos one and two expertly. 

maybe he was right—maybe you’ve been panicking for nothing.

you look back at the book. dig—beasts dig into the ground and attack the target from below, staying within the range of a visible electro ring. alright, as long as you leave the ring before the scorpion pops out of the ground, you should be fine. nothing to worry about. spikes—beasts plug their tails into the ground and rapidly produce spikes around themselves to shock targets. another easy dodge—you just have to make sure you escape the vicinity.

you look up, and al-haitham has already easily leapt from the ring and landed himself on higher ground. he waits, watches as the beast emerges from underground, and plants its tail into the ground—this must be the spikes. al-haitham is rather excellent at fighting these things—you have to admit. as soon as the spikes are gone, he takes his chance to plunge down, perfectly landing a hard hit to its head with the edge of his sword, making its body slump to the ground.

he might just finish this alone like he said. 

“there,” he nods, flashing you a smooth grin, “i told you i’d handle it. now then, let’s—”

the loud, sinister hiss from behind cuts him off—it makes you watch in abject horror as the scorpion rises and does a rapid spin. 

you look over the pages as quickly as you can—is there more? there’s nothing else on the page, is there? you quickly flick your eyes to the next page and—oh. 

oh no.

phagocytic rain—beasts rapidly spin and scatter many stingers into the air before slamming their claws and unleashing stingers down from above. these stingers, once pierced into the skin, can cause side effects as a result of consecrated venom.

“well, it’s never done that before,” al-haitham holds up his sword, getting ready to fight. 

no. he has to get away—he needs to get away. the words don’t come quick enough from your throat as you scream, “haitham, no! you have to get away—”

it’s too late. you can hear him let out a strangled groan of pain, clutching his arm as his sword instantly falls to the floor, a gash already decorating his skin from a stinger he didn’t manage to dodge. before you can even think, you grab your weapon and run, leaping between al-haitham and the scorpion and landing another perfect blow to its head—just before that giant, deadly-looking stinger on its tail can plunge into him.

it goes limp, falling to the floor with a thud, the glow of its body dimming instantly.

“fuck,” he curses—al-haitham rarely curses. this is not a light sting. “since when do they do that?”

“since forever,” you hiss, grabbing the edge of his cape to press on his wound and stop the blood flow, “maybe if you’d just listened to me and read the attack patterns with me, you’d have known that.”

“i’ve fought these plenty of times,” he says indignantly, teeth still grit in pain, “they never do that.”

“maybe if you weren’t such a know it all,” you grumble—but then you gently reach over, cupping his cheek as you trace a thumb over the skin comfortingly, “is it too bad?” you ask, concern evident enough in your tone that he feels slightly bad. 

al-haitham shakes his head, sighing quietly as you kiss his jaw. “i’ll be fine. i’ll just patch it up before we camp for the night.”

“are you sure? maybe we should—”

“it’ll be fine,” he hums, “their venom isn’t deadly anyway.”

—————

you and al-haitham manage to make it to the ruins by nightfall. somehow, miraculously, the two of you are able to trek towards the pyramid and seek shelter indoors for the night, right before it gets too dark and too cold.

al-haitham seems to act stranger and stranger as time goes on, quietly sitting in a corner against the wall and patching his arm up himself as you set up the fire by the tent. you look over at him and watch as he shudders and groans lightly. 

“are you sure you’re alright?” you ask in concern, walking over and sitting as you curl up next to him, raising a brow as his body seems to stiffen at your touch, “baby, you seem…”

“i’m fine,” he says curtly. 

you don’t seem to be convinced, furrowing your brows before pressing a palm to his forehead—hot. incredibly and unnaturally hot skin that’s flushed a shade of crimson you hardly see on al-haitham, even when you tease him in that cheeky, flirty little way of yours that dusts blush over his face every time. 

“haitham,” you gasp, hand brushing back his bangs to feel more of his skin—it’s only then, do you realize just how sweaty his skin seems to be, too. “you’re burning up!”

“i’m okay—”

“maybe you should take your shirt off,” you say quickly, wiping the sweat from his forehead as you sit up straight, “it’s just the two of us here, anyway. it’ll be fine—”

“no,” he grits, voice strangled, “i’m—hah” he cuts himself off with a sharp inhale, “—i’m okay. just leave me alone, please. i’ll just go walk it off in a bit.”

he’s panting. you can hear the way his voice is strained and the way his chest rises and falls rather rapidly. you should check the book again, just to see if there’s anything about the side effects in the event you do happen to get stung. 

“hmm, the textbook says—”

“do not read the textbook,” he practically begs. 

you do anyway. “possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea,” you start, glancing up at him and eyeing his patched arm, “well, there was some swelling. are you nauseous?”

“no,” he almost wheezes out. 

“let’s see, and it also says it can cause—oh.” 

possible side effects of stings include swelling, pain, nausea—you pause and swallow thickly as you read over the final part—and mild sexual arousal. sexual arousal. well, that would explain the heated and flushed skin, you suppose. and the sweat. you glance up at al-haitham—he does anything but meet your eyes. 

“i told you,” he says stiffly, muffling a groan as he crosses his arms and hunches forward, “i’ll be fine—”

“baby,” you hum, chuckling slightly as you run a hand through his hair—he gulps, still avoiding your gaze, “why didn’t you just tell me?”

“don’t,” he warns, jaw clenching as he looks up and stares at you with that same look of hunger you’ve seen so many times before. it’s clear al-haitham is trying to fight off whatever he’s feeling—but the reality is clear. 

he’s very quickly losing himself to his desires. 

“but it’s just us in here,” you insist, hand trailing down his chest slowly before settling on his thigh. his breath hitches, following your hand with his eyes as it rubs along slowly and moves closer and closer inwards. “these ruins have been abandoned for who knows how long—and we’re the only ones from the akademiya cleared to explore them.”

“don’t,” he says again—there’s a warning tone to his voice this time, slightly more raspy and entirely more breathless, “if…if i start, i don’t know if i’ll be able to stop.”

“oh, but haitham,” you pout, slinging a leg over his waist and seating yourself on his lap. you stare down at his crotch—wet. there’s a very noticeable wet patch over the bulge in his pants. you wonder how you didn’t notice it sooner. “who says i’d want you to stop?”

“love, i’m serious,” he closes his eyes and swallows, panting as a bead of sweat rolls down his temple, “you should sleep. i’ll be okay—o-oh, fuck,” he cuts himself off with a gasp, hissing as you reach past his waistband and free his strained cock from the confinements. 

it’s thick, his erection—probably far more swollen than you’ve ever seen it before. it almost looks painful, with how red it is at the tip, with how it twitches from nothing else but the cool air hitting the heated skin. you think it might just be aching, in fact, from how he whimpers as you wrap a hand around it, just barely squeezing, just barely applying pressure to really relieve anything.

“hmm,” you look down, inspecting, “seems sensitive.” you give it a slow, experimental stroke, instantly making him groan loudly as his head falls back, a stream of pre cum leaking from the tip enough to coat his already slick cock. 

“fuck, fuck—more,” he rasps, hand grabbing your thigh and squeezing hard to ground himself.

“okay,” you murmur, nodding to yourself, “very sensitive. guess we’ll just have to get this out of your system.”

you drag your hand over his length, slow at first, before building up a quick, steady rhythm—just the way he’s always liked it. you lean in, kissing along his jaw as he writhes under you while you squeeze around the base of his cock, rolling your palm over his tip before repeating the motion over and over and over again. 

his mouth is parted, low groans and the occasional soft whine fall past his lips, making the ache between your own legs worsen as you watch him fall apart. there’s a dull throb in your core, and you can feel the fabric of your underwear dampen, but all you’re worried about for now is the man before you. any other time, you’d think it’s a bit shameless, doing something so dirty, so filthy, so inappropriate in the middle of the desert like this–especially while on a research expedition, no less. but you couldn’t just leave your boyfriend to suffer like this, could you? what kind of girlfriend would you be then? and you’re not so cruel as to leave al-haitham to suffer like this all night, or longer, even—who knows how long before the side effects wear off? it’s the wisest choice to just help him, to take care of him like he always takes care of you.

that’s right, you think to yourself—you’re helping him like any doting lover would. you’re not at all interested by this predicament of his…or aroused, for that matter. no, you’re simply worried for him, and it’s up to you to relieve him of the painfully frustrating tension he must be suffering through after he so graciously fought to protect you from the dangers of the desert.

“jus’ like that,” he gasps as you touch him, chest still rising and falling as quickly as before—his shirt is damp too, a noticeable wet patch forming over most of it as the sweat collects on the fabric, “d-don’t stop—fuck, feels so good.”

“c’mon, haitham,” you murmur, taking your other hand to tug at the end of his shirt, “take this off—i told you, you’ll feel better.”

he listens—whatever is in that venom must be something strong because al-haitham is the most stubborn individual you’ve ever met. under normal circumstances, he’d refuse to take his shirt off even if, deep down, he knew himself it’d help. but right now, he quickly reaches at the hem before pulling it off, tossing it to the side as his bare chest is exposed for you to admire. his usual pale skin is flushed, a soft pink that glistens from the sweat that he can’t seem to get rid of, even as you work his swollen cock with your fist. 

it’s pretty, the way he sounds, the way he looks. you run a thumb over his slit, and he whimpers. not too often of times have you heard al-haitham whimper—but today, he seems to have lost any and all control, too busy thrusting his hips up to meet your strokes as he moans lowly. 

“when’d you start to feel it?” you ask curiously, pecking his forehead as you leave scattered kisses along his face, “how long have you been trying to play it off?”

“s-since…” he starts, but he trails off as your thumb traces over a thick being along the underside of his length, letting out a soft whine at the feeling before bucking his hip into your hand more desperately. you don’t think you’ve ever seen al-haitham so worked up—so needy and riled up and painfully fucked out before he’s even cum yet. “since i f-first got stung,” he admits through labored breaths, “just got worse slowly.”

“you should’ve told me,” you coo, “not like i don’t see you like this anyway. poor thing,” you pout softly, eyeing the way his cock twitches in your hand, more beads of pre cum oozing from the tip and leaving a stream down his length, “looks like it hurts.”

“it does,” he rasps, “feels…feels like ‘m gonna pass out.”

“don’t worry,” you hum, squeezing tighter around him, working him quicker as your hand jerks his aching cock off with a tight fist, “i’ll help you cum. ‘s what you deserve for fighting that thing for me. my strong baby.”

“c-close,” he says through a cracked voice, like the praise is enough to send him hurtling over the edge, “‘m so close—sh-shit.”

“yeah?” you ask sweetly, pecking his forehead, “then cum, baby. think you’ll feel much better.”

you roll a thumb over his nipple, hard under the pad of your thumb, and enough to make him gasp loudly before he lets out a deep grunt, cum spilling from his sensitive tip. it’s more than you’ve ever seen from him—thick, endless ropes of hot, sticky cum coating your hand and his abs as you pump his cock through his orgasm. you’re glad you made him take his shirt off—this would’ve been an even more unpleasant trip if he’d had to walk around in a soiled shirt.

“fuck, f-fuck—so g-good,” he stutters, his head thrown back against the wall that supports his body, legs spreading apart to give you better access to working his cock through his high. one hand reaches to play with his balls as you milk his cock, squeezing as you stroke upwards and watch every thick drop of cum shoot past his tip. 

it feels like forever, his orgasm. it’s long, and his voice is strained from calling your name over and over by the time he’s finished—but he’s still just as hard as before. no—in fact, you think he might be even harder. 

“well…” you start, staring at his erection as it rests against his sculpted abs, “i don’t think that did much.”

“no,” he pants, staring at you through lust-hazed eyes, “it didn’t. but i have an idea that might help, though.”

“yeah? what is it, oh wise grand sage?”

al-haitham, for the first time ever, doesn’t correct you that he’s the acting grand sage. instead, he lifts you up slightly and pulls your pants down to pool at your ankles before lining your dripping cunt over his cock. you bite your lip, moving to ever so slightly drag his tip along your clit, making the both of you shiver with a desperate gasp at the ghost friction.

“i think,” he starts, finger circling your clit slowly as you whine before letting your head fall to the crook of his neck, “that perhaps fucking you might be the only way to get this out of my system. what do you say?”

“haitham, please,” you whine, fingers digging into his shoulders as you clutch onto him, “need you.”

“yeah?” he chuckles breathlessly, replacing his finger and teasing your folds with the tip of his cock, coating the head with the slick of your pussy as you quiver over him, “need me, huh? i thought i was the one who got stung. shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

you would scoff if you weren’t aching to feel the burning stretch of him intruding your neglected cunt—al-haitham always finds a way to be himself at the end of the day. always so frustratingly confident and painfully good at teasing. 

“fuck me, haitham,” you plead, pushing your hips down until the first few inches of his length push past your entrance, dragging his tip along your folds and pulling a whine from you as he chokes on a low groan.

“f-fuck,” he grunts, “so tight—a-always so tight.”

his hands grasp at your hips, slowly guiding you to sink all the way down on his cock, taking it inch by inch until he’s buried all the way, his tip nudging perfectly against that sensitive spot in the back of your walls. al-haitham feels like he’s been made just for you like that—fitting you perfectly enough that he hits all the right spots without even trying, without even having to angle his hips in order to give you what you need from him.

you feel sweat collect on your own forehead, mirroring the same glistening of his own skin as you bite your lip and whimper out a pathetic, “h-haitham, more—please.”

“it’s a good thing i brought you with me,” he pants as he snaps his hips up, his hands still guiding your hips to bounce on his cock as you pull up before slamming back down, your walls hugging his thick girth tightly while his fat tip presses against your sweet spot. “imagine where i’d be if you weren’t here. j-jus’ wouldn’t feel the same if i was fucking my fist instead of this sweet cunt.”

the stretch is too good—the way he splits you open as he bullies into your pussy, pushing past your folds and dragging his thick veins along your walls, makes your head spin, pleasure burning up your nerves and spreading across your entire body. your lips attach themselves to his neck, kissing and sucking along the skin as he groans and tightens his bruising grip on your hips.

“b-baby—fuck, ‘s so good,” you mewl, “h-haitham—oh.”

“take me so well,” he says breathlessly, face falling slack as your walls flutter around his length and relieve the ache that was all too overwhelming just a few moments ago—being buried into your pussy is enough to turn the tight grit of his jaw into a loose, parted lips as he moans your name. “taking it so well, like the good girl you are. you—ngh, fuck—you want to make me feel better, don’t you?”

“i do,” you nod, sobbing as his thumb finds your clit and rubs harsh circles into the delicate bundle of nerves, “i do, i do—please, haitham. faster, need more.”

“yeah?” he lets out a strangled chuckle, biting his lip and groaning as you snap your hips down particularly rough, squeezing around him tightly, “you need more? i’d almost say you were stung instead of me.”

your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving angry, red marks in their wake as his fingers dig into the plush skin of your hips. you slam down on him with every roll of your hips, his own meeting you halfway as he bucks up, fucking into you—you can feel it, the impending high that you reach closer and closer to, every circle of his thumb on your clit and every brush of his cock against your walls bringing you close to falling off the edge.

“‘m…g-gonna cum, haitham—fuck, a-almost there, baby,” you pant, mewling as you throw your head back while he leans in to kiss your neck, biting hard enough that you almost wonder if there’s blood.

“me too,” he groans, “you…you’re so perfect,” you feel his head bury into your shoulder, his forehead digging into your shoulder as you cradle the back of his head with a hand and whine, “i’m bringing you to every trip—fuck you in every ruin i explore. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“yes, yes—please,” you babble, nodding as your back arches before you feel the coil snap—you gasp his name, a repeat of haitham, haitham, haitham, falling from your lips as he fucks into you through your high. the spasm of your walls around him sends him hurtling into his second orgasm—even more earth-shattering than the first.

“that’s it,” he moans, his voice deep and raspy as it cracks in the middle, “can’t even be mad i got stung—not when you let me fuck you l-like this. so…feels so good—’m c-cumming.”

it’s not the first time al-haitham has cum in you—but it’s never felt like this before. it’s hot, his cum—it spills into you and coats your walls in a sticky mess that forms a ring at the base of his cock as it pumps into you. the mess of his release and your arousal coats both of your thighs, leaking from your abused cunt and smearing along your skin. you can feel him twitch with every rope, can feel the way he throbs as he spills into you and paints your walls white with his release. it’s desperate—needy and so, so filthy, just like the sounds he makes into your ear, breathless pants that make your stomach do flips as you listen to him fall apart and break. 

he slumps as he finishes, your body falling against him as you both pant harshly and catch your breaths. he kisses your neck delicately as you stroke his hair, admiring his spent form under you.

“as much as i hate that you got stung,” you mumble, “this…this might not have been the worst thing.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, looking up and raising a brow—it’s only then that you feel it, the twitch of his still hard cock, still buried deep in your abused cunt, “are you sure? because we aren’t nearly finished yet—i really hope you’re prepared to take it.”

the textbook may have lied, you think—this is not mild at all. this might delay your trip quite a bit.

i would go with him hoping he gets stung every time so i could suck the soul out of him tbh