Text
oh my god OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD
I want alhaitham carnally
GIRL CHSOE MY FAV CHARAS TOOOOO AUGH 😭😭😭
thank you SO SO MUCH THIS IS SO CUTE 🥹🥹 u are absolutely the best possible friend ml ❤️
would you love me if i was a...?
[ author's note ] — FOR MY BBG @vellichxrr6782 congratulations on finishing your exams which were forever ago and belated happy birthday i'm the best possible friend ikik ‼️‼️ wanted to write an smau but had no idea what to do so here, have the peak of originality 🥰
136 notes
·
View notes
Text
– love’s thesis.
pairing: alhaitham x gn!reader
premise: the most logical thing to do when you find out your pretend lover is actually your soulmate? conduct a research and fall in love in the process.
– warnings: inaccurate/unrealistic depictions of college, modern au.
– author's note: i write one long fic for alhaitham and suddenly that old project i have for him back in april is suddenly back. | ~5.9k words.
to say that alhaitham was royally fucked would be an understatement. he was behind three lectures, had a major paper he’s yet to touch, and now, with the sudden appearance of his soulmate mark, he wasn’t sure what to tackle first.
alhaitham let out a long exasperated sigh, hand coming to drag down his already tired face as he irritatedly tapped on his table. the white screen of his laptop blinded him as the clock ticked, a constant reminder that he was losing time if he didn’t type out at least a sentence to his professor–or to you. a low grumble left his lips when he closed his device and left his room to get another cup of coffee. mind swimming with how he was going to approach you, or if he was even going to say the implications of having your name written on his forearm.
when he reached the living space of his apartment, there you were, in the same position and predicament as him. you looked up from your books and gave him a weary and crooked smile. eyes sunken and hair a mess but all alhaitham could see was how the lamp light on the coffee table illuminated your features. the pounding of his heart was back and all he could offer you was nod before going to the kitchen. this was stupid, he reminded himself. how could the person he’s been fake dating for sheer convenience be his actual soulmate. you, who dreams of fairytales and happily ever after, his soulmate? alhaitham scoffed in disbelief as he waited for the coffee machine to finish his drink.
his mind was torn; alhaitham’s rationality screaming at him to just be honest and tell you now but the more curious side of him wanted to test out this soulmate thing. from the corner of his eye, he sees you stretch your arms over your head and let out a tired sigh. books and papers and devices scattered on his floor as you push your hair out of your face. up until a few hours ago, you were nothing more than a footnote in his life, but now as his eyes took another glimpse over the inking of your name, alhaitham begins to wonder if offering to be your fake boyfriend was also part of fate’s plans.
just then, when the coffee machine finished his drink, an idea popped into his mind. something that would quench his curiosity over the idea of soulmates and finish this thesis he’s yet to even start on. and it would only take 4 steps.
--
STEP 1: THE PROPOSAL
this was abnormal behavior for alhaitham. he has never felt so nervous and antsy in his life until now. alhaitham never felt his palms sweat when the panelists grilled him during his presentations or when he nearly fucked up a speech because he had 2 hours of sleep prior. he concluded that it must be the left over adrenaline from stealing kaveh’s concealer to hide your name on his forearm.
he wasn’t ashamed to have you as his soulmate, it was quite opposite now that he thinks about it. you were a proud scholar like him. the only difference was you were in vahamuna and him in harvatat. but that didn’t deter you from engaging in academic banter and debates with him. alhaitham just felt a bit unsure how to approach the topic of soulmates with you, especially when he was the first one to lay down the boundary that everything is purely for convenience and that no feelings should be involved.
“i’m very confused,” your voice cuts through his inner dilemma as you skim over his proposal paper. “is it really okay for me to assist you in this research? wouldn’t faruzan or maybe someone in harvatat be of more help?”
“my topic delves into relationships. seeing as though you are my lover,” alhaitham pauses and he didn’t fail to pick up on the blood rushing to your cheeks when he called you his lover. “you’re my best option.”
there was an amused glint in your eyes when you shook your head. you slowly packed your things and handed his proposal back to him. “this is giving me major deja vu.” the grin on your lips and playful tone also took him to memory lane when he first proposed to this fake date situation.
“i’m assuming this is a yes?” he raised a curious brow at you. the two of you falling into each other’s pace as you left the library.
“it’s a yes.”
STEP 1: COMPLETED.
--
STEP 2: RESEARCH AND ON FIELD EXPERIMENTS.
once his paper was given the green light, he offered to start when you reached his apartment. having nothing to do, until your groupmates replied to you at least, you entered his space and sat yourself on the floor. opening your laptop while alhaitham went to the kitchen to get you something to drink and munch on, you can’t help but feel so at home. alhaitham notices this every time so he makes a mental note of your behavior for later use.
hours passed and after many coffee drinks, wingstop takeouts, 10 minute power naps, an unintended pillow fight, and blasting random songs to keep you both awake and sanity intact, you and alhaitham decided on a few experiments to conduct on his research.
STEP 2: COMPLETED.
--
STEP 2.1: EMOTIONAL SYNCHRONY UNDER EMOTIONAL EXPERIENCES.
“alhaitham, where did you get that…?”
the gray haired man looked up from his tablet and nodded towards your direction. his eyes glancing over to the heart monitors that were now present in his living room. “the local hospital.”
“you really are full of surprises,” you let out an amused chuckle. dropping your stuff beside the coffee table and sitting next to him, he hands you the many wires of the heart monitor. “how did you even get these to your apartment.”
he got up from his seat and crouched to the level of his tv, not answering your question. sorting through the many movie discs he had rented out for the both of you to watch and test the level of emotional synchrony. “what would you like to watch first?”
alhaitham had never whipped his head back faster in his life when he caught you raising your shirt. showing off your midriff as you attach the wires to your chest. he felt his temperature rise as you answered a simple anything to his question. this was ridiculous, his mind echoed, he’s seen you in a bathing suit when you and his friends went to the beach. alhaitham didn’t understand why he felt so flustered. shoving a random cd into the cd player and taking the remote, he sat back down on the couch. he just prayed that you don’t question the sudden flush on his cheeks.
one horror movie, three romcoms, one tragedy, and one thriller later, you both decided to take a break.
“any progress so far?” you ask with a tilt of your head.
he hummed in response. “remarkable to say the least.”
alhaitham hands over the tablet to you while he detaches himself from the heart monitor. he made his way to the kitchen and took out two cups from his cupboard. “the study we found last time stated that close companions tend to copy the other’s emotional response under emotional stress.”
“and?” you take the cup he offered gingerly and took a sip. it was coffee, made just how you like it. “how did we do?”
he took a sip of his own and took the tablet back.
“almost perfectly in sync. fascinating isn’t it?”
he tried his best to not show any signs of whatever he was feeling. as remarkable this was, it was a bit scary. and alhaitham didn’t know what to make out of it. he knows that not all soulmates end up together, in fact, a study that was conducted five years ago proved that only a small margin of soulmates live long enough to meet their other half. and an even smaller margin of soulmates actually worked out. it was only the first experiment, the first trial, but alhaitham could feel the arms of inevitability and uncertainty wrap around his ribs and start breaking each bone one by one.
just by this one experiment alone, when he offered you a tissue to wipe your tears or when you leaned on him for support because of your laughter, alhaitham felt the inevitable pull towards you.
STEP 2.1: COMPLETED.
--
STEP 2.2: COMMUNICATION AND INTIMACY EXPERIMENT.
it was a busy day at lambad’s cafe. the establishment was housing many students who were all running on little to no sleep and coffee pumping in their veins. project month was proving to be hell on earth for the students. final research defenses and projects were usually held in this time and sometimes the following week would be their finals. it’s a brutal battle against time and insanity, those who don’t have proper time management are almost guaranteed to repeat the year if they receive a single mark that’s below the passing grade.
“geez, busy as always.” you said, scrolling through your phone.
“i’d be more surprised if no one was busy,” he replied. “kaveh is practically living in his lecture hall.”
you let out a laugh as you put down your phone on the table, face down, as you take a bite off of your snack. “okay, my turn to ask a question.”
“shoot.”
this was today’s experiment. communication and intimacy by using the famous “36 questions to fall in love” as your starting point. in every relationship, not just soulmates, communication needs to be present or else it’ll fall apart sooner or later. conversation let’s people see parts of another they tend to hide. alhaitham wanted to scratch this experiment from the process, but after the last one, he wanted to try if there were any unpredicted outcomes.
many studies have already been conducted on this, alhaitham shouldn’t have a problem finding a supporting article for his thesis. but after just a few questions, he began to think of this experiment as an excuse to get to know you more. he’s not sure if it’s the soulmate thing playing at his mind to get to know you but he suddenly had the urge to absorb every information about you like a sponge. a painful want to know you inside and out; a need to be able to completely explain you to someone else.
“question 27: if you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know.”
alhaitham mulled over the question before giving his answer.
“my indifference and wanting to keep most things private does not equate to me not caring about them.” he let his tongue roll over his lips, suddenly feeling parched with the way you were staring at him. “i have high walls, but that doesn’t mean they’re there to ward everyone off. i’m very particular with who i let in, so if they truly want to be my friend, i’d advise them to try until i welcome them in.”
a smile tugged at your lips and alhaitham felt he could finally breathe. “your turn.”
“question 33: if you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? why haven’t you told them yet?”
you let out a hum and leaned back in your seat. “never telling the people i care about that i love them.”
“why haven’t you told them yet?” he asks, crossing both his arms over the table and slightly leaning forward.
“i don’t know…” you say honestly. a foggy look in your eyes as you stare at the ceiling. “maybe i’m scared it won't sound genuine enough.”
alhaitham wanted to argue that everyone you care about knew that you love them dearly. he was one of those people after all. whatever label you have now was certainly fake, but the vulnerability and care you had for each other wasn’t, and he would die on that hill.
“well you shouldn’t,” his voice cut through the quiet atmosphere. he hoped that it didn’t sound too harsh. “if they cared about you, they would know whether you're being genuine or not.”
if someone told alhaitham’s younger self that the walls he’d built up would crumble in just 36 questions, he wouldn’t have believed it. he still finds it hard to believe when you both exit the cafe and go your separate ways. but all he can do is accept it. through those questions, he learned more about you–your dreams, values, cherished memories, and vulnerabilities you shared with him first.
ahaitham concluded that this experiment was worth keeping. he felt more connected to you than ever.
STEP 2.2: COMPLETED.
--
STEP 2.3: RESEARCH SYMPOSIUM.
admittedly, this wasn’t in the original list of experiments you and alhaitham had planned but decided to go along with it. the akademiya regularly held a research symposium and had one or two students present preliminary research to batches of students. this year, he was asked to do it and he dragged you to be his partner because who else would he ask. certainly not kaveh.
“do your best! i’ll be backstage if you need anything.” he simply nods at your support and walks to the stage. before beginning, he takes one last glance at you. he didn’t know what urged him to do it, but after seeing you flash him a thumbs up and an encouraging grin, he let a small smile loose before looking towards the batch of students that won’t give a single shit about what he’s saying.
roughly 45 minutes later, alhaitham stepped down the podium and bowed. applause echoed throughout the hall as he made his way backstage to find you. the next batch would be listening to you after all. he stopped in his tracks when he saw you happily chatting with a student he didn't recognize.
“you’re presentation is next, do your best!” he excitedly said. alhaitham narrowed his eyes when the unfamiliar boy rubbed the back of his nape, a flushed tint reaching his cheeks. “maybe after the day’s over we can go get some coffee?”
how strange it was. ever since your name appeared on his forearm he’d started feeling so many new emotions that he normally wouldn’t imagine feeling. it was an ugly feeling, he concluded. alhaitham didn’t like how relieved he felt when you declined the boy’s invitation and when you caught sight of him, he felt his heart beat rapidly in his ears when you skipped over to him. he already knew why he felt a sudden surge of pride take over him when you drag him further back stage to review your presentation, completely ignoring the other boy.
it was for research, so why did his arm wrap loosely around your waist like second nature?
STEP 2.3: COMPLETED.
--
STEP 2.4: CREATIVE AND ARTISTIC COLLABORATION.
you were the one who coined this idea after a quick chat with kaveh. for once, the blonde man had an insightful opinion and offered to schedule you and alhaitham to a quick session of painting on your next day offs. now here were the three of you, inside a painting studio with other students in the art department of the akademiya, seated in front of a white canvas and a tray of colors.
from the corner of his eyes, alhaitham took notice of how you and kaveh animatedly chatted. the same ugly feeling he felt that day backstage came back in full throttle. clicking his tongue, he shifted his focus back on the instructor’s voice and followed his instructions. every once in a while, he would take a peek at you and feel something bloom inside his chest when caught a glimpse of that determined look on your face. by the time he looked back at his canvas, he felt the wind inside his lungs be stolen away when he realized he used your colors to paint.
different shades and strokes of your favorite colors invaded his senses. his own mind playing tricks on him because he could’ve sworn you were peering over his shoulders, hands wrapped around his waist and your chin comfortably set on one of his shoulders. alhaitham felt the ghosts of your warmth and couldn’t help but crave it.
he snapped out of his daydreams when the instructor’s assistant approached him. she was the same age as you and with just one look, alhaitham concluded that she was interested in him. it took all of his will power to not roll his eyes when she complimented his work and not subtly ask for his number. thankfully, she was called back to the instructor’s side. he felt a shiver run down his spine when the girl looked over her shoulders and winked at him. he was most definitely not coming back here ever again.
when the class finished, alhaitham had successfully painted 3 canvases, all with your favorite colors and things that reminded him of you. a successful experiment if he does say so himself.
meeting up with kaveh near the exit they both engaged in small chatter. the blonde architect complaining about how he’s burning through his concealer faster than he expected because of the lack of sleep. alhaitham made sure to just hum and nod here and there to not give himself away that he was the reason why kaveh’s makeup was running out.
“i swear! this school wants its students six feet under before they graduate.”
he tunes out the complaints of his senior and mindlessly scrolls through his phone. tapping his foot impatiently when the assistant from earlier started making her way over to him. scoffing in annoyance he was about to drag kaveh out the door and wait for you outside but an arm tangled with his and started tugging him.
“good job today!” you grin at alhaitham with both your arms interlaced with the other.
taking a peek over his shoulder, alhaitham caught sight of the assistant girl scoffing and rolling her eyes. he shifted his focus back on you, eyes meeting anyone and anything but his. an amused smirk was present on his face when he felt your hand tighten its hold around his bicep.
“jealous?” he teases.
you roll your eyes and grip his arm tighter. “maybe.”
STEP 2.4: COMPLETE.
--
STEP 2.5: COOKING.
the constant ticking of the clock and the tic tac of keyboards was all alhaitham could hear. it was almost midnight and the two of you had decided to pull another all nighter together. at this point, the two of you had been working on his thesis for almost a month now, and alhaitham is still yet to come to a conclusion.
he definitely feels something for you. but there was an uncertain part of him that wonders if his feelings are truly genuine or if the idea of being soulmates was hindering his unbiased thinking. you look up from your laptop when you hear him stop typing and softly ask him if he’s alright. alhaitham wanted to answer no, he was not in the slightest bit alright. but he needn’t open his mouth to reply because you already stood up and invited him to the kitchen.
“let’s cook something to eat. we’ve been ordering too much takeout lately.” there was a sheepish grin on your lips as you opened his fridge and took out some ingredients. “what do you say?”
alhaitham didn’t really have a choice when you’re already started preparing. and even if he wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to say no. when it came to you, he always found it hard to decline your invitations and advances. so now here he was, helping you cook buttered noodles at 11:57 p.m. with your playlist softly playing in the background.
he’s read a study about how cooking tends to deepen relationships between people. alhaitham wonders if this will also happen with what you and him have now. he didn’t really have think too much of it because once he hears you hiss from accidentally touching the pot with boiling water, he’s already by your side. a gentle hand guiding yours under the faucet running with cold water as he lectures you about being careful. you only laugh and say he’s worrying too much. patting him on the arm, a silent message to release your hand, alhaitham lets you continue your duty of cooking the pasta as he grates the cheese and prepares plates.
something about this fragile moment has alhaitham’s mind swimming with possibilities for the future. all he could think about is how nice it would to come home to you after a long day of work (he already does this, he just won’t admit it). crashing into your arms without care as he prattles about his day, his head on your chest while your hand gently strokes over his hair. listening intently to whatever he had to say because you loved listening to his voice.
“haitham can you help me drain the water?” before you could even turn around to face him, he's already behind you. his larger hands held your smaller ones and helped you guide the pot to the sink. alhaitham doesn’t miss the burning of your ears and he’s overcome with the urge to tease.
“why so quiet?” he asks with a playful lilt to his voice. “are you that tired?”
he hears you scoff and grumble. that fuzzy feeling swimming inside his chest again as you duck under his arms and sit yourself on his dining table. he raises a brow at you but you only raise the hand that touched the boiling pot.
“my hand is hurting again?”
“are you serious?”
“deadly serious.”
alhaitham knew you were horsing around but he only chuckled with a shake of his head. in the end, by the time it reached 12:12, the two of you were eating happily. no small talk or conversation was present but neither of you minded. all you cared about was being in his presence and alhaitham would give it to you even if you hadn’t asked for it. he looks up from his plate when he hears you chuckle and sees you tiredly swirling the food on your fork.
“we’re not getting any sleep tonight aren’t we?” there was something dreamy about the way you looked right now. evidently tired, hair a mess and flying in any and every direction, and your eyes were droopy. you looked so at home -at peace- and alhaitham wonders if it’s because you two were spending time together.
“you ask that as if it’s the first time we’ve done this.” you laugh at his reply and look at him. a certain emotion in them that he can only recognize as fondness.
alhaitham concludes from this unscripted experiment that he wouldn’t mind cooking with you every night.
STEP 2.5: COMPLETED.
--
STEP 2.6: VULNERABILITY AND TRUST.
today marked the last week and final experiment of alhaitham’s thesis. the both of you decided to leave the “scariest” experiment for last so you wouldn’t feel too uncomfortable. after all, being blindfolded and led to some unknown place wasn’t something normal couples would do on a daily basis. yet here you were, trusting him completely with your safety as he holds your hand leading you somewhere.
“you doing okay there, haitham?”
this was dangerous. alhaitham shouldn’t be walking backwards. but he couldn’t snuff out his desire of seeing you under the setting sun. he could bump into something and fall, compromising this experiment, but just this once, alhaitham let himself cheat. disobey his own rules. he’s already broken multiple ones so what’s one more?
“i should be asking you that,” he pauses when he hears you chuckle. “i’m not the one blindfolded here.”
“aww don’t worry haitham. i trust you won’t kill me.”
“you don’t know that.”
“do you even know how to hide a body?” alhaitham was about to reply when you cut him off. “nevermind you probably do.”
alhaitham didn’t bother to stifle a laugh at your sudden confession. and you laugh with him. when his back bumps into a metal pole, he takes it as a sign to finally turn around and walk the correct way. it hasn’t been a minute yet he’s already missing the sight of your smiling face.
“tell me a secret, haitham.”
“why?”
“this is a vulnerability and trust experiment. tell me something you haven’t told anyone.”
he takes a minute to reply. after much contemplation, alhaitham thinks it’s time to tell you.
“i’m scared of my soulmate.”
“why are you scared?” your voice turned quiet. it sounded more like an inaudible murmur.
“you already know i’m not one for relationships,” he hears you hum. “but recently their name appeared on my forearm. it was unexpected, in fact, i didn’t even think it was possible.”
“why would you think that?” you sound almost hurt. alhaitham didn’t like it.
“soulmates are too unreliable. you’ve certainly seen the multiple studies on them right? most soulmates don’t even get the chance to meet their other half.”
“and yet here we are,” he chuckled and intertwined your fingers. “doing a study on soulmates and testing the potential emotional synergy they might have.”
“i have a strict framework for my life. i built it with facts and logic. soulmates simply don’t fit into that framework. the idea of someone having such a profound impact on my life, someone i didn’t choose– it feels like i’m losing a battle against fate.”
“you can’t fight fate, haitham.”
“and who said i was fighting it?”
alhaitham sighs, running a hand through his hair. “i’m scared that they’ll grow tired of this logical thinking of mine. what if they no longer want to understand me? what if we mix like oil and water?”
“you’ll never know unless you try,” you squeeze his hand in reassurance. “sometimes, you need a little unpredictability in your life. so what if they don’t understand you immediately, most soulmates don’t even get together when they first meet. relationships take time and effort.”
alhaitham turns to look at you again, studying your expression. there’s softness in his eyes, he can just tell. “what about you? what are you afraid of?”
you stop walking entirely but not once did your hand slip away from his. “i’ve been afraid of soulmates too. what if my soulmate isn’t a good person? what would happen to my dreams of getting married and that happily ever after?”
alhaitham feels his heart beating inside his ears when you tug off the blindfold. when you meet his eyes with such a lovesick expression, he feels weak in the knees and throat drying up faster than the sands in the desert.
“but what if your soulmate is better than you imagined?” there was a smirk on his lips when he takes a step forward. “what if he’s standing right in front of you as we speak, telling you that he’s willing to give the happily ever after you’ve always wanted? all you needed to do was wait a bit longer.”
you let out a laugh and tug him closer. chest to chest, hand still holding each other. “do you think so?”
“i know so.”
“will he finally tell me what he’s planning with these experiments?” you lean forward and alhaitham feels his heart lurch forward.
he presses your foreheads together. closing his eyes to stop himself from laughing at the sight of you on your toes to reach him. “i can’t say. it’s hard to put into words.”
you pout and hit him on the chest. “and why not?”
“i’ve never felt such deep affection for someone until you.”
STEP 2.6: COMPLETED.
--
STEP 3: WRITING.
it took a shit ton of self control to stay away from you after his confession. he locked himself in his apartment, leaving you and kaveh to sleepover at tighnari’s since he wouldn’t the door for anyone (this is a lie, he always opens the door for you when you bring him food).
now he’s around 75% done with his paper, and it’s taking longer than expected. his idea of locking his phone in the closet on do not disturb was going well.
the days continued to drag on and alhaitham scowled at himself for feeling so much yearning for a person he’s going to see tonight or in the following week. he missed the sound of your laughter and comforting presence as you both chased deadlines. but he was determined to finish this thesis tonight or tomorrow afternoon if he accidentally fell asleep.
as he expected, there was a knock on his front door. he frowned at how quickly he stood up. with a sigh, he went to the door and leaned on one of the walls with both his hands crossed over his chest.
“haitham, i know you’re in there!” you shout, voice muffled by the door. “you can’t keep hiding there forever! that’s kaveh’s job.”
alhaitham let out a snort as his hand hovered over the doorknob. “i’m working.”
“then work with me. i bought us takeout,” you said, tone teasing. “and i’m not leaving until you open the door.”
with a sigh he relented. knowing deep down that you were deadly serious and he didn’t want to be the cause for a potential cold. when he unlocked the door there you were, your tote bag hanging on your shoulder while your arms held plastic bags of food. the mere sight of you has his mood brightening but he tried his best to keep it neutral.
“it’s late.” he said, trying to sound stern but failing miserably when you wrap a single arm on his waist.
“and yet here i am,” you didn’t even wait for him to tell you to come in. you’re already dropping your things on his couch and sitting down on the floor. “you’re place is a mess.”
he rolls his eyes and sat next to you. “thank you, i’m trying to copy kaveh’s workspace.”
a laugh rippled through the space as you handed him his portion. “don’t be mean to him! he’s trying his best.”
you let alhaitham take a few bites before you leaned your head on his shoulder. eyes soft when you smile at him. “i missed you.”
“i missed you too,” he admits, wrapping one arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer. “but i need to finish the paper.”
“oh fuck you!”
you scowl at him and let out an annoyed huff as you take a bite of your own food. you don’t get to savor it when a firm hand takes hold of your chin and pulls your face to alhaitham’s. your lips meet briefly before he’s nestling back on his seat. a cheeky grin on his face when you feel your cheeks burning.
“forgive me?”
STEP 3: (KINDA) COMPLETED.
--
STEP 4: CONCLUSION.
alhaitham let out a sigh of relief as he left the presentation room, loosening his too-tight tie. the sun was high, indicating that it was around afternoon now. the defense took longer than expected due to the panelists’ questions, and the knowing looks of headmaster nahida and rukkhadevata. he shivered when he recalled how he barely escaped miss nahida’s clutches.
he speedwalked down the corridors of the akademiya, keeping a firm grip of the extra copy of his thesis. those countless hours spent trying to perfect it was finally over and it proved to be worth all the effort. he had no doubts in his mind that he got a good mark. but now, he had one final thing he needed to do.
a warm breeze greeted him when he stepped outside. he closed his eyes for a moment, letting the warm afternoon sun ease his nerves already knowing where to go next. he needed to find you.
and find you he did. the moment he opened lambad’s cafe doors, his eyes by habit, searched for you in your usual seat by the window. half of your face hidden by your laptop screen and a coffee cup in your hand. the sight brought a smile to his lips, and for a moment, he didn’t move and let the scene in front of him be printed into his mind.
taking a deep breath, he walked over to you. “mind if i join you?”
you looked up, not surprised but still happy to see him. “how did it go?”
“well,” he said, sitting down across from you. “a lot more intense than i thought, but i did alright.”
“alright seems like an understatement,” you say in amusement, closing your laptop as your eyes flicked over to the papers he held.
alhaitham was struck with the feeling of deja vu. this scene in front of him mirrored the time where he first proposed the idea of partnering up for his thesis. now, here you both were, sitting across from each other with his finished thesis.
you raised a knowing brow at him. “what’s this?”
“the final version of my thesis,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “i wanted you to have look.”
“i’m honored.” you say with a big smile.
he nodded and took a deep breath. “there’s something i’ve been meaning to tell you.”
you hum to signal him to continue as you flip through the papers and skim over his hard work.
“during my presentation, i talked a lot about the impact of relationships. how it affects someone’s behavior, both consciously and subconsciously. i talked about you.”
you suddenly look up, eyes wide. “what did you say?”
“that emotional synergy doesn’t only apply to soulmates. it’s for everyone. even before your name appeared on my forearm, you and i already shared a connection that felt deeper than most soulmates had. from pretend to the profound truth; you’re my soulmate.”
you blinked at him, trying to process everything he’s said. “you really talked me?”
alhaitham nods, a small smile on his lips when he leans over and flips you to where his experiments come into play. “i did. i talked about our relationship, even when it started as pretend and for convenience, had impacted my life significantly. how i always seem more relaxed and focused when you’re by my side. i couldn’t imagine my life without having you in it the more time we spent together.”
he paused, taking another deep breath. “when i first saw your name on my forearm, i couldn’t believe it. it complicated things severely. but the truth is, you’ve always been my soulmate, even before the mark appeared.”
you take his hand in your and intertwine your fingers. and alhaitham couldn’t help but feel his heart quicken when he sees his name written on your wrist. “you scared me for a while, you know?”
he leaned forward, cupping your face in his free hand. “you don’t have to feel scared anymore. it’s real, even without the marks, it’s always been real. i want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
you let out a shaky breath and smile. “i love you.”
“i love you too,” he murmured, thumbs brushing against your tears to wipe away the stray tears that fell. “more than words can express. i have never known anything else but loving you.”
STEP 4: COMPLETED.
--
BONUS:
© vxnuslogy 2024. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my knowledge or consent in other platforms or websites.
722 notes
·
View notes
Text
i should never write again
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
❝ WELCOME TO SUMERU; THE NATION OF WISDOM ❞
― the akademiya !
AL-HAITHAM. -> a recipe for (partial) disaster ; fluff. -> aiming low, aiming high ; fluff.
3 notes
·
View notes
Note
please please please write alhaitham being WHIPPED for his cute short lover
— aiming low, aiming high.
character[s] — alhaitham. theme & genre — alhaitham helps you place a book on the shelf, but not without slipping a few teasing remarks about your height. cw/tw — none. word count — 800+ words. a/n — when im short but i cant write short reader and when i kin alhaitham but i cant write alhaitham 💔💔
alhaitham is a man of great restraint, which all seemingly disappears when it comes to you, his lover. a few months ago, you started dating the scribe, who was the dictionary definition of stoic and unassuming. he didn't quite care for attention from those he wasn't privy to.
but he found himself wanting your attention all the time. it was an odd feeling for him; to be so... dependent. he was used to doing things alone, but then you appeared like some sandstorm, wrecking any level of control he had in his life.
he was sitting at his desk, while you sorted through his books. he'd given you a pattern that he preferred to have his books arranged in, when you'd said something about how messy his office was.
"i don't need it to be clean when i know exactly where everything is." he had told you. "if your desk has books on it, where will i sit?" "on the chair." "..."
alhaitham saw you reach up, holding an ivy book with gold cutouts. it was a heavy book, and you struggled to hold it properly and push it into the slot. due to your small stature, you had to stand on your tip-toes to try and reach it.
a slight smile (yet another thing he couldn't control because of you) made its way onto his lips as he observed you. you were... well, if he had to put it objectively, short.
the height difference between you two was rather prominent. alhaitham was tall to begin with, and he'd never really cared for his height until he met you. he enjoyed being the taller one, more than he'd like to admit. it was amusing to him, to provide absent-minded musings about your short stature, and even more amusing seeing your expected reactions.
he loved it when you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, he loved it when you fit so snugly against his body when you two cuddled at night, and he loved the feeling of towering over you because it made him feel like he was protecting you.
not that you really needed any protecting. you were well capable of dealing with people. they say the smallest people have anger that's more concentrated; and he found it to be true when it came to you. you were vibrant in your expressions, quite different to him.
you were like the sun, and he was the moon. and even the moon sought the sun's light, after all.
you didn't realise when he'd snuck up behind you, both hands wrapping around your waist. he bended down to rest his chin on your shoulder, taking in the scent of your freshly washed clothes. there was a soft warmth in your embrace, what he'd define nostalgically as home.
"need some help, habibti?" he murmured, his voice low, his heated breath hitting your ear in a way that made you shiver.
"i'll be fine," you replied, warding off the butterflies in your stomach, "it's a book."
"this book seems to be greatly troubling my lover," he said, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "i can't stand to see you in such perplexion. should i deal with it for you?"
you flushed a little at him calling you his lover. he'd said it before, but it felt odd to hear someone like him say the word as if he was saying hello. he didn't wait for your response, his hand grasping yours atop the book, deftly wrestling the book out of your hold and placing it into the slot.
you coughed, once, turning to meet his gaze. you had to look up at him, your eyes narrowing into an unamused expression when you saw that smirk on his lips.
"i'm expecting a comment about my height." you said, crossing your arms.
"i wasn't going to do it." he replied, but you weren't convinced. it was almost like he was holding back laughter. when he saw you stare at him, unconvinced, he slumped his shoulders, snaking his big arms around your small figure.
"i could fit you in my pocket." he spoke, leaning down to rest his head against your shoulder. "like a mini [name]. maybe you could take care of my keys for me, make sure i don't accidentally grab kaveh's."
"and there it is." you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck.
he wanted to pick you up and... well, he didn't think that far. that train of thought crashed the second you pressed your lips against his.
he kissed you back, cupping your cheek. when he pulled away, he didn't really know what expression to make. his mind naturally settled for a smile, his eyes narrowed teasingly.
and here comes the second attack-!
"you're so short. my back hurts from crouching like this to kiss you." he said, feigning a woeful tone. critical hit, no survivors.
"don't make me hit you." came your quick reply. "hit me where?" he chuckled, "my face? you'll need a stool to reach that, habibti." "i can still reach your knees."
posted on 10th july, 2024.
#[🔖 vellichxrr writes ]#alhaitham x y/n#alhaitham x you#genshin alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#alhaitham#al haitham#al haitham x reader#sumeru#genshin#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact alhaitham#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin impact fanart#genshin impact fluff
447 notes
·
View notes
Note
Is Cruel Summer still ongoing?🥲
at the moment, no, because i have commitment issues 😶 but i'll definitely try to get back into writing it ❤️ thank u for being patient, i didn't think people still read it!! 😭😭
1 note
·
View note
Text
just alhaitham realizing he wants a baby with you... cw: pregnancy, children
alhaitham is in the middle of reading, spending his lunch hour tucked away in a quiet corner puspa cafe when he feels a poke at his arm.
he slides his headphones off, looking over to see a child standing next to him, clutching something to her chest.
“excuse me– mister scribe sir?”
the scribe sighs, tucking his book away. “just alhaitham is fine.”
the child blushes furiously. “oh, um, mister alhaitham sir, my teacher says that your job is reading. could you read this for me please?”
that was an incredibly juvenile description of his job, but he doesn't correct her. the girl slides what alhaitham recognizes as the children’s book that tighnari had written (and collei had illustrated) to teach the basics of forest safety. the storytelling was mediocre and the illustrations were average, but he supposed they were sufficient enough for children who had no higher education.
alhaitham glances at the clock. he still has a half hour left of his break, and he was nothing if not an advocate for educating young minds.
—
“the lesson is to always be prepared when traveling through the rainforest,” alhaitham explains, closing the book. “there’s always a high probability that you’ll run into fungi, especially if you're on foot like little cyno was. you’d do well to add a variety of antitoxins to your first aid kit.”
the girl considers this, brows pulled into a furrow as she sips at the sunsettia juice he’d ordered for her.
“why didn’t little cyno just go around the fungi when he saw them? then he wouldn't have gotten the sports.”
“the spores,” alhaitham corrects. “but your point stands. common sense is perhaps the most effective survival tool.”
children, with their inquisitive and imaginative minds, were adequate problem solvers. they didn't overthink things, instead utilizing a simple, pragmatic way of thinking.
he wouldn't mind raising a little scholar of his own with you.
he’d thought a normal amount about having a child before. typical musings, like when he would have one (after school, after securing a decent job). or what their names would be (esfir for a boy, laila for a girl). who would bear his children (the only person he’d ever considered was you).
but these aren’t idle musings anymore. this time, the idea hits him full force, quickly spiraling into a hope. a dream for the future.
a boy with his eyes and your smile. a girl with your hair colour and his nose. how you’d raise them together, how they’d grow to be intelligent, inquisitive, creative, and endlessly compassionate.
“sweetheart, there you are!” a relieved voice exclaims.
the girl sitting across from him perks up as her mother runs up to the table, her smile widening. “mama! mister alhaitham read me a book!”
“i'm so sorry she interrupted your lunch, sir,” the frantic mother looks sheepish as she apologizes, but alhaitham dismisses it with a wave of his hand.
“it’s alright. if anything, this experience has been rather enlightening.”
_____
“that's quite the stack,” you comment mildly when your husband enters the bedroom with an armful of textbooks. “which new topic have you been intrigued with this week?”
alhaitham sets the books down on the nightstand and answers, “conception.”
his answer is spoken simply, casually, like he’s talking about the weather and not one of the most life-altering decisions you could make as a couple.
“conception,” you repeat slowly. “like…”
“you’re a doctor. you’re aware of the biological process behind it.”
“of course i am,” you say, suddenly feeling flustered. “i just– we’ve never talked about this before, haitham.”
your husband sighs, walking around to your side of the bed and sitting by your legs. “well…i want to talk about it.”
seconds pass. seconds that almost feel like a lifetime as you watch each other, looking for any unspoken signs of hesitation.
“it’s up to you,” he finally says, gently placing a hand on your ankle. “it’s your body, you’re the one who would be carrying our baby for nine months. if you’re not ready–”
you don't need to hear the rest, crawling over to cup his face in your hands and press a soft kiss to his lips. “i'm ready. we’re ready.”
his eyes immediately brighten, and he momentarily leaves your grasp to reach across the bed to grab the topmost book from his stack. “there are certain positions that we can try to increase our chances of conceiving. according to studies conducted in fontaine, this one has an effectiveness of 89.5%. it’s called a mating press…”
you wish you could say it’s the first time he’s propositioned you with educational literature.
“wait, you didn’t ask me,” you giggle, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly.
he pauses. “will you try this position with me?”
“no, smartass. ask me to have a baby with you.”
your husband grins, hooking his hands under your ass to pull you into his lap. you gasp as he does so, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck. he says your name, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“will you let me put a baby in you, dearest?”
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
just alhaitham realizing he wants a baby with you... cw: pregnancy, children
alhaitham is in the middle of reading, spending his lunch hour tucked away in a quiet corner puspa cafe when he feels a poke at his arm.
he slides his headphones off, looking over to see a child standing next to him, clutching something to her chest.
“excuse me– mister scribe sir?”
the scribe sighs, tucking his book away. “just alhaitham is fine.”
the child blushes furiously. “oh, um, mister alhaitham sir, my teacher says that your job is reading. could you read this for me please?”
that was an incredibly juvenile description of his job, but he doesn't correct her. the girl slides what alhaitham recognizes as the children’s book that tighnari had written (and collei had illustrated) to teach the basics of forest safety. the storytelling was mediocre and the illustrations were average, but he supposed they were sufficient enough for children who had no higher education.
alhaitham glances at the clock. he still has a half hour left of his break, and he was nothing if not an advocate for educating young minds.
—
“the lesson is to always be prepared when traveling through the rainforest,” alhaitham explains, closing the book. “there’s always a high probability that you’ll run into fungi, especially if you're on foot like little cyno was. you’d do well to add a variety of antitoxins to your first aid kit.”
the girl considers this, brows pulled into a furrow as she sips at the sunsettia juice he’d ordered for her.
“why didn’t little cyno just go around the fungi when he saw them? then he wouldn't have gotten the sports.”
“the spores,” alhaitham corrects. “but your point stands. common sense is perhaps the most effective survival tool.”
children, with their inquisitive and imaginative minds, were adequate problem solvers. they didn't overthink things, instead utilizing a simple, pragmatic way of thinking.
he wouldn't mind raising a little scholar of his own with you.
he’d thought a normal amount about having a child before. typical musings, like when he would have one (after school, after securing a decent job). or what their names would be (esfir for a boy, laila for a girl). who would bear his children (the only person he’d ever considered was you).
but these aren’t idle musings anymore. this time, the idea hits him full force, quickly spiraling into a hope. a dream for the future.
a boy with his eyes and your smile. a girl with your hair colour and his nose. how you’d raise them together, how they’d grow to be intelligent, inquisitive, creative, and endlessly compassionate.
“sweetheart, there you are!” a relieved voice exclaims.
the girl sitting across from him perks up as her mother runs up to the table, her smile widening. “mama! mister alhaitham read me a book!”
“i'm so sorry she interrupted your lunch, sir,” the frantic mother looks sheepish as she apologizes, but alhaitham dismisses it with a wave of his hand.
“it’s alright. if anything, this experience has been rather enlightening.”
_____
“that's quite the stack,” you comment mildly when your husband enters the bedroom with an armful of textbooks. “which new topic have you been intrigued with this week?”
alhaitham sets the books down on the nightstand and answers, “conception.”
his answer is spoken simply, casually, like he’s talking about the weather and not one of the most life-altering decisions you could make as a couple.
“conception,” you repeat slowly. “like…”
“you’re a doctor. you’re aware of the biological process behind it.”
“of course i am,” you say, suddenly feeling flustered. “i just– we’ve never talked about this before, haitham.”
your husband sighs, walking around to your side of the bed and sitting by your legs. “well…i want to talk about it.”
seconds pass. seconds that almost feel like a lifetime as you watch each other, looking for any unspoken signs of hesitation.
“it’s up to you,” he finally says, gently placing a hand on your ankle. “it’s your body, you’re the one who would be carrying our baby for nine months. if you’re not ready–”
you don't need to hear the rest, crawling over to cup his face in your hands and press a soft kiss to his lips. “i'm ready. we’re ready.”
his eyes immediately brighten, and he momentarily leaves your grasp to reach across the bed to grab the topmost book from his stack. “there are certain positions that we can try to increase our chances of conceiving. according to studies conducted in fontaine, this one has an effectiveness of 89.5%. it’s called a mating press…”
you wish you could say it’s the first time he’s propositioned you with educational literature.
“wait, you didn’t ask me,” you giggle, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly.
he pauses. “will you try this position with me?”
“no, smartass. ask me to have a baby with you.”
your husband grins, hooking his hands under your ass to pull you into his lap. you gasp as he does so, his head dipping down to the crook of your neck. he says your name, lips brushing the shell of your ear.
“will you let me put a baby in you, dearest?”
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
jealous zhongli my beloved
nestled right in the heart of qiaoying village sits a cozy little apothecary run by you and zhongli.
your little shop is popular for locals and tourists alike, perfect for people looking for natural remedies or just a new tea brew. today is a little bit slower, with everyone in liyue harbor celebrating lantern rite. so zhongli sits in the back with a half drained cup of tea, reviewing the shop’s finances and balancing the books while you work up front, greeting and assisting the last few customers of the afternoon.
every so often he lets his focus drift to where you’re working, passing out unlit sparklers to a trio of young children. you shake your head when their parents try to pay, smiling softly when the young ones thank you excitedly and rush out, dragging the adults behind them.
zhongli’s mind begins to wander to the future, as it often does on days such as this. perhaps next year, you’d be handing sparklers to children of your own.
“are you almost ready to go?” you ask, appearing in the doorway, just as he’s brainstorming baby names in the margins of his work. “i’m waiting on one last gentleman, then we can close for the day.”
zhongli leans back, watching you with a measured expression as he considers your words. “i see. may i ask who this gentleman is? he must be important, if we’re waiting for his business.”
amusement dances across your expression. “he came by yesterday while you were in the city, inquiring about teas. i think you’d enjoy his company, he reminded me of you. incredibly knowledgeable, wise beyond his years, not to mention very handsome…”
now he was really aching to leave, but not to the harbor to witness the festivities. he was aching to take you home, grab his spear, then return and wait for this gentleman.
you look over your shoulder when the bell at the front door tinkles. “oh! there he is!”
“i should greet him,” zhongli suggests (though it doesn't really sound like a suggestion). “i'm sure we have much to discuss.”
“alright, my love. lead the way,” you tease, letting him position himself in front of you.
zhongli forces a somewhat pleasant smile and tone as he greets the customer clad in the fineries of…fontaine.
it takes all of three seconds for him to realize that this is no customer.
but he can't do anything, not in front of you, and he’s sure the hydro dragon wouldn't be so foolish to threaten the safety of one’s mate.
“monsieur neuvillette!” you greet cheerily, peeking around zhongli’s defensive stance. “i have the tea blends you ordered stored in the back. i’ll go grab them.”
so begins a true gentleman’s argument.
“welcome. is there anything i can assist you with in the meantime?” (why have you come?)
the chief justice smiles, though it looks practiced and every bit as forced as zhongli’s. “i’ve just come because i admire fair prices.” (i've come for justice)
zhongli has always known this confrontation would come. though the authority of the original elemental dragons has disappeared from the world, a new generation has come to reclaim what was lost.
“i see.” (i see)
“i've heard much about this place from the locals.” neuvillette says, fearlessly holding eye contact with the archon. “you’ve created quite the human life for yourself, morax. an artifact appraiser, funeral consultant, and now you run a successful apothecary with your lovely mate.”
something old, draconic, possessive rumbles through veins.
neuvillette merely chuckles as the earth beneath the shop trembles lightly.
though you return just in time to quell the impending earthquake, zhongli’s possessiveness flares through no fault of his own. dragons mate for life, and though he has the utmost trust in you, he does not trust the dragon from fontaine smiling so politely at you.
with his gaze narrowed so dangerously, he misses the amused look you cast up at him when his hand grasps your waist, securing you at his side.
“thank you for your patronage, monsieur, but we are now closed. safe travels back to fontaine.”
he doesn't bother waiting for a reply, dragging you away from the counter and into the back room as you try to look over your shoulder.
“thank you for coming, monsieur–”
zhongli presses his lips to yours before you can say his name, the hand not gripping your waist cupping the back of your neck as he crowds you against the wall.
there’s only one, foolproof way to mark you as his.
good thing he already has names picked out.
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
++ 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐘
[summary] wrio’s spouse winds up in prison. special treatment ensues.
[cws] gender neutral reader. fluff.
“What you did was incredibly stupid.”
“I’d like to think it was very brave, actually.” You quip back, lips pursed as you turn up your chin. “You should be proud of me, really.”
“I should be proud that you got yourself thrown in prison?” You don’t have to look up to know that Wriothesley is sporting an incredulous expression. “Did they knock your head around a bit before bringing you down here?”
“You’re acting like I murdered someone.” You finally meet his gaze, and you resist the urge to sink down into your seat at the clear disapproval in his eyes. “All I did was—”
“Break into the Opera Epiclese and destroy government property.”
“That’s such a trumped-up charge!” You huff and roughly cross your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing as you think back on the charges that had been slapped down onto you by that damned archon. “You trip in the dark and accidentally fall into the oratrice and all of a sudden you’re a criminal. Hmph!”
“Yeah, exactly. It also doesn’t help that you broke in—”
“—I left my bracelet in there after the trial! Was I just supposed to leave it behind and potentially lose it forever? The condition of the lost and found in that place is downright terrible—the guards pocket all the good stuff.”
“You could have bought another one.”
“Not like this one.” You look down to the gray bracelet encircling your wrist, and a warmth spreads in your chest as you gently twist it around, finger rubbing over the messily written engraving on the inside of it. “This was a gift.”
“Hardly.” He sighs, and your eyes flick up to watch as he runs his hands through his already messy hair. “It’s just scrap metal I bent up and welded because I couldn’t buy you proper jewelry back when I was a prisoner.” It’s his turn to look at the bracelet.
“You were so creative back then.” You smile a bit wider. “I remember you used to have something new made every time I came to visit you. What was that one thing you made? The one that we painted together?”
“The ballerina music box.” He groaned, looking a bit embarrassed, and you snapped your fingers.
“The ballerina music box!” The ballerina was a bit oddly shaped, and the box had sharp corners on one side and rounded on the other, and the song the box played was distorted and sounded more creepy than relaxing due to some disfigured cogs, but you loved it nonetheless, and had even sobbed in thanks when he had first presented the gift to you. “I love that little box.”
“It looks like a child made it.”
“A child in the throes of eleazar, yes,” you nod, and his mouth opens a bit in surprise before he huffs out a laugh. “But I still love it… because you made it.” You give him a sweet smile, and you can see him soften up before your very own eyes; broad shoulders losing that rigidness, lids lowering, crease between his dark, thick brows disappearing.
“You’re tryin’ to butter me up.”
“Mhm,” you nod. “Is it working?”
“Not at all, jailbird.” He gives you a smile of his own, and despite the clear sarcasm in it, you can’t help the little flutter your heart does at the sight. “No special treatment for you.” So he says, yet he had placed a cup of tea down for you the moment you were brought to his office, and had even tried to inconspicuously nudge the basket of cookies in your direction, pretending not to notice when you reached for one. “Spouse or not.”
“What a mean man.” You slouch down in your seat. “I treasure the gifts that my lovely, amazing, strong, handsome, and so so so incredibly smart husband gives me and what do I get in return? A criminal record and unfair treatment! I’m suing the entire nation the moment I’m free!”
“Yeah, yeah,” he waves his hand in the air as if fanning away the conversation, and now it’s your turn to huff. “For the few days that you’re here, you’ll be working directly with me in exchange for coupons.” He takes a slow sip of his tea, adams apple bobbing as he swallows, before gently setting the cup back down onto its small plate. “I’ll make your first job real easy to get you in the swing of things.”
“How kind of you.”
He just barely contains an amused smile. “Very. Now…” He shifts in his seat. “Give me a kiss.”
“I’m married, Your Grace.”
“I’m sure your husband won’t mind. Kiss. Now.” He taps a finger against his lips, and after a moment you stand up and round his desk, hands finding his shoulders as you bend at the waist so your noses brush.
“My husband is a very good fighter, by the way. When he finds out you twisted his spouses’s arm like this, he’ll pummel you.”
“I can handle him.” A hand snags you by the waist, forcing you down into his lap, and you only have time to let out a quiet yelp before Wriothesley’s lips are on yours. The kiss is slow, sensual, and it brings a warmth to your cheeks and covers you with a bashful cloak when he pulls back to let his eyes roam over your face. “I’ve gotta say… your husband is a real lucky guy to snatch up someone as cute as you.”
“Hmph. Seems like you’re trying to butter me up now.”
“Is it working?” He presses his face into your neck, his lips pulling into a smile against your skin, and you have to fight back one of your own.
“Not at all, jailbird.”
15K notes
·
View notes
Text
cw: pregnancy
“when you said we were sneaking out to go for a ride, i didn't think you meant that,” you sigh, breathless but content as you slump against your husband’s chest.
“deep breaths, darling,” diluc encourages, fingertips brushing down your spine. it makes him think of before, of juvenile fumbling and embarrassment. he’s much less chaste now. confident in his touches and his ability to please you. “why let the horses have all the fun?”
“you’ve been spending too much time with kaeya,” you grumble.
“i agree. it’s why i had to sneak away from his party with you.”
“your party,” you correct, letting him twine your fingers with yours. just like he had earlier, when he’d convinced you to sneak out of the surprise birthday party thrown in his honour. “the guests are likely looking for you.”
diluc’s used to being the center of attention. he doesn't necessarily enjoy it, but his day-to-day is filled with employees searching for his signature or potential clients seeking his participation on new ventures. as the king of the wine industry, he’s possibly the most in-demand person in mondstadt.
but their attention is nothing compared to yours. you’re his favourite person.
“you didn't even make it to the cake,” you add, shifting in his lap. “which means they'll be looking for us soon.”
he brings your hand to his lips, placing a soft kiss upon your knuckles and making your heart flutter. “i've already had dessert.”
your face warms considerably against his skin as he chuckles, releasing your hand in favour of slowly smoothing his palm down your side, resting on your hip. he’s more than content to abandon his birthday party entirely in favour of being here in bed, watching the sunset over the fields of your home and bathing you both in golden light.
“well, it’s your birthday party,” you say softly. “even if your actual birthday is two days away, i still want you to have everything you could possibly want. and if what you want is to sneak away from your party to bed me so thoroughly, who am i to argue?”
his heart starts to thump so loudly in his chest that he fears you can hear it. he does want something else, an answer to a question that’s been stifled by shyness, fear, and uncertainty.
“and if i wanted…something else?”
your fingers trace idle patterns across his arm as you hum. “i’d do my best to give it to you.”
he knows you would. which is why he’s been waiting, making sure you want this just as much as he does.
“kaeya said something to me earlier,” he starts.
“please tell me this doesn't end with you hitting him.”
“of course not.” well, not this time. “he asked when i would make him an uncle.”
your movements pause, and diluc wonders if he'd messed up, if it was too soon–
you sit up immediately, grasping his shoulders. “he told you i was pregnant, didn't he? i knew adelaide wouldn't be able to keep it a secret. she’s been knitting baby socks since last week.”
wait.
wait.
“you’re–”
“i wanted it to be a surprise,” you deflate, a frown tugging on your pretty lips. “on your real birthday. adelinde was the only one i told, only because she’d caught me throwing up in the rose bush she’d just pruned and insisted i get checked…”
diluc’s hardly hearing you, your rambling slowing to a stop as he holds your face in his hands.
he needs to hear you say it.
“we’re having a baby?”
you place your hands atop his, nodding. “we’re having a baby, diluc.”
he presses his lips against yours, one firm kiss before he rests his forehead against yours. you are and will always be his favourite person, the only one who could give him a gift as special as this.
_____
BONUS:
“lavender bisque. whispering peach. sweet potato surprise…” adelinde murmurs, hunched over a few sheets of paper.
“what is that? is that the menu for tomorrow’s party?” kaeya asks, peeking over her shoulder.
adelinde sighs, shaking her head. “they're sample colours i had sent over for the nursery.”
“nursery?”
“yes–” the colour drains from the poor woman’s face as she realizes her slip. “oh dear!”
the realization takes a few moments to sink into the cavalry captain’s “my brother had sex?!”
for @mydiluc aka mrs diluc ragnvindr for listening to my endless rambles...and also diluc bday fic!!!
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
— 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝒸𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 ౨ৎ
boothill x f!reader. 2k wc. ノ non-canon compliant ノ sfw ノ some vaguely suggestive bits ノ farmhand!boothill ノ flirty teasing ノ pet names ( darlin', princess, honey, sweetheart. . . i went crazy @.@ )
my comeback to writing for hsr! first time writing for boothill so pls don't be too tough on me :3 hope u like ! !
the new farmhand at your grandfather’s ranch is trouble.
he shouldn’t be, not with the way your grandpa speaks so highly of him—he’s exactly the kind of help this place needed, he tells you. starts on time, is thorough in his work, and takes good care of all that your grandfather holds dear. you should love him simply for that—taking a weight off the old man’s shoulders and putting his heart at ease—but you’ve seen an entirely different side of the so-called saint.
ever since you arrived at the ranch a few days ago, the one called boothill has been a pain in your neck. it took nothing more than you stepping out of your car for him to label you that city girl, the “little lady” who looks like she’s never stepped foot in mud a day in her life.
from that moment onward, it’s been nothing but sly remarks at your expense. you don’t miss the chuckles he makes no effort to hide as you refamiliarize yourself with the animals and get used to the scent of hay and manure. his not-so-subtle smirks when you’re simply passing by have been the most irking. your mere presence is seemingly a joke to boothill.
you’ve made it your mission to steer clear of the man but the task is proving to be difficult. the fact that he’s now living in what you used to know as one of the guest bedrooms coupled with your grandpa’s oblivious albeit innocent nature seems to be enough to throw a wrench in that plan of yours.
your trip here was meant to be a relaxing getaway from the hustle and bustle of city life but you’ve only taken on a new role as boothill’s personal assistant if the tray with two glasses of lemonade is any indication. if it were up to you, you’d be enjoying a peaceful breakfast without worrying about the man bothering you but it’s just your luck that your grandfather caught you before you could make the meal, politely asking you to deliver a cold beverage to boothill who has been working since the sun rose over the horizon.
luckily for the farmhand, you can’t say no to your grandpa.
that’s how you find yourself wandering the grounds in your satin pajama set and the boots your grandpa prepared for your arrival. your legs move in muscle memory as you navigate the vast stretch of land in search of boothill. thankfully, you don’t have to go much farther, catching sight of the man at the entrance of the barn.
he’s gone for a simple look today—a white t-shirt and jeans paired with the dirtied boots you haven’t gone a day without seeing him in. his shirt is already stained and is darker around the neckline, dampened with sweat. he’s made an effort to tie back his black and white strands of hair, though, a few of the shorter ones have escaped and frame his face. the hat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing him in, strangely, isn’t sitting atop his head.
he must see you approaching out of the corner of his eye because he turns to face you, an immediate grin taking over his lips. it makes you grip the tray tighter.
he looks you up and down as he pulls off his gloves, stuffing both in his back pocket. when gray eyes settle on yours, he tells you, “nice get up.”
you roll your eyes because you saw a comment like that coming. everything you do down to the way you dress is scrutinized when it comes to him. even though you’ve only been here a short while, you’ve come to expect this kind of behavior from boothill.
he huffs out a laugh at your reaction before his gaze falls to the tray in your hands and the glasses that sit on it. “that for me, darlin��?”
against your will, your heart jumps in your chest. that, you haven’t grown accustomed to. you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to him throwing around pet names at you like it’s nothing, like it’s the most natural thing in the world to him. it’s easier to blame the heat blooming in your cheeks on the sun’s beaming rays rather than boothill’s sweet talking.
you hold the tray out to him, hoping the effect of his words isn’t visible on your face. “courtesy of grandpa.” you can’t have him thinking this gesture was born from the kindness of your heart. his teasing would be merciless then.
“of course,” he drawls, grabbing one of the glasses and swallowing a few gulps. the shine of the lemonade is left on his lips when they pull away from the brim, his tongue poking out from between them to lick up the lingering drops. your eyes remain on his lips longer than they should, long enough to see them curl up into that annoyingly handsome smile. “little miss city girl wouldn’t be caught dead out here on her own accord.”
he can only stay charming for so long. “did you miss the whole part when my grandpa told you i grew up here?”
“no, no, i caught that.” he takes another sip of his drink. “it’s just that you strike me as the type who spent more time riding the horses than cleaning up after ‘em.”
you keep quiet and nurse your glass of lemonade because the only other option besides lying is telling him that he’s right. in your defense, what ten-year-old wants to spend their summer hauling hay and shoveling up horse crap?
“look,” you start, “i’m not some delicate glass figure who can’t get her hands dirty. i’m perfectly capable of helping out.”
boothill raises his eyebrows, a glint of humor sparkling in his steel irises. you know the look of a challenge when you see it and it almost makes you regret trying to defend yourself. “oh yeah? then the princess wouldn’t mind lending me a hand?”
“i wouldn’t,” you tell him. contrary to your statement, you really don’t want to spend more time with him than necessary, even if that means proving a point and settling some stupid argument. your mind races to find a believable excuse that’ll let you off the hook. “but i’m barely dressed to do any work. another time, maybe.”
he waves his hand in dismissal. “don’t worry, darlin’. what i’ve got in mind ain’t much work and won’t steal too much of your time.”
you nervously chew your cheek as boothill takes the tray that’s tucked under your arm, setting the now empty glasses on it and finding a place for them to rest. he nods his head in the direction he wants you to follow and, reluctantly, you do just that. he casts a glance over his shoulder to look at you. “just help me get this hay inside the barn, will ya?”
the job seems easy enough, a surprisingly straightforward request from boothill who seems to derive pleasure from giving you a hard time. too easy, you think to yourself as he heaves one of the rectangular bales of hay from the top of the stack. the task looks effortless when he does it, a short grunt being the only suggestion of exertion on his end.
he disappears into the red building and you take his temporary departure as an opportunity to pick up a bale of your own. you grab a hold of the twine keeping the hay in its shape and immediately grimace at the way the fodder pokes and prods at your palms. you’re tempted to let go and step away but you have a point to prove and plan on doing so. with a groan, you lift the bale, or at least try to. it’s heavier than you expect it to be and the scratching against your exposed legs is uncomfortable, sure to get worse with the distance you’re meant to walk.
you’re about to drop the bale back in place when a pair of arms reach around you, calloused hands joining yours to carry the collection of hay. boothill’s unexpected presence catches you off guard and the proximity of his mouth to your ear makes your breath catch in your throat. “having a bit of trouble, love?”
love? your skin prickles with goosebumps at yet another pet name. this time, it’s more difficult to blame the heat running beneath your skin on the sun. it takes a moment for you to find your voice and when you do, the ones you manage to get out refute his claim. “i’m not. i told you i wasn’t dressed for this.”
he snorts at your reply as though he can see right through the flimsy excuse. “right, well, you’re in my way, so why don’t i help you with this one?”
before you can protest, boothill is on his way, dragging you along with him. your steps match his, his bigger boots trailing behind yours as the two of you walk the path to the growing supply he likely started before you interrupted. you’re released from your place between the bale and boothill when he drops it on top of the other.
you’re free to make a move, to slip away from the charged air and reclaim your personal space. instead of doing so, you simply turn around to face him. you’re met with his broad chest before you tip your head up to meet his eye. “i could have done that on my own.”
“i’m sure you could have,” he says, but the smile pulling at his lips tells another story. he reaches behind him with one hand to pull the gloves from his pockets, waving them between you as an offer. “these might help.”
you happily take the gloves as he takes his leave, slipping your hands into the protective gear. they’re larger than you need and there’s extra space in them but you don’t mind, not if they’ll help you show boothill that you refuse to be reduced to some city girl.
and they do help, at least with shielding your hands from the unpleasant sensation of hay against them. the bales are just as heavy and just as awkward to haul but you’re able to get the job done, nonetheless. for every one you carry, boothill lugs two more past you. his familiarity with the job means the two of you are finished one within a reasonable amount of time.
you drop the final bale with the rest, a relieved sigh pushing past your lips at a job well done. boothill stands off to the side and whistles as you snatch the gloves off, wiping your forehead with the back of your hand. “well, would you look at that.”
“surprised?” you ask, tossing his gloves back at him.
“honey, anyone can hoist some hay.” he catches the gloves with ease, stuffing them back in his pocket. you’re almost offended at how easily he dismisses your efforts but you don’t have time to let the annoyance sprout before he’s approaching you, tipping your chin up so that you have no choice but to look at him. “though, i doubt they’d look as pretty as you doing it.”
you can’t tell whether he’s trying to get a rise out of you or if he truly stands by his statement. all you know for sure is that his sugary words and the feel of his skin against your face leave you unmistakably flustered, so much so that you can’t control the erratic beat of your heart and can’t stop the little nagging voice in the back of your head from whispering that you don’t dislike him as much as you let on.
boothill is trouble, but not in the way you thought he would be.
“i have to go.” you knock his hand away and turn on your heel in a rush to get back to the house, far away from boothill.
you can escape the sight of him, the feel of him, but not the sound of him as he yells after you. “see you around, sweetheart!”
thanks for reading! consider reblogging if u enjoyed :3
782 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝓶𝔂 𝓯𝓵𝓾𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓫𝔂, 𝓯𝓵𝔂, 𝓯𝓵𝔂 ⋆ ࣪˖ 𓂃𓋜
al haitham x f!reader . sfw — fluff . edited n reposted from an old blog ノ a single naughty touch . . and a few tender ones ノ ‘s all cutesie stuff :3 ꒱ྀི 1.4k wc
you’re taller than al haitham as children— all dangly, clumsy fawn legs where he’s only a baby sapling that’s begun to sprout from the soil.
even with his fluffy mop of minty-slate hair, the tippy top of his head reaches just under your chin, and it takes two of his strides to match one of your own.
perhaps it’s rude and not at all like the kind, well-mannered little girl you’d been raised to be, but it’s so much fun teasing him about it— the ‘know-it-all’ brat of a schoolmate who you consistently place second to, who won’t play with you on your lunch breaks, who sighs in boredom as often as he breathes and so evidently does not belong in a classroom of children his age.
it’s so much fun watching him struggle to reach for a book on the fourth shelf, one that you pick out with ease— but certainly cannot read with ease— and hand to him with a mischievous twinkle in your eyes, ruffle his hair and seemingly disregard him with a giggle, a little wave of your hand.
“looks like you're too short to reach that shelf, haithie. i guess it just can’t be helped!”
neither the book he’s been waiting to read for weeks nor the strap of his suspender sliding off his shoulder have his attention now that you’ve come and swept it up all for yourself. this attention you return to him with a simple smile— endearingly lopsided, just as the pigtails in your hair are, exquisitely charming in the entirety of your coyness.
before he has a chance to open his mouth and thank you, your attention is now stolen— though, when isn’t it, with a mind as distractible and always stuck in one daze or another as al haitham imagines yours to be— by a glint from the other side of the library.
and just like that, you’re off, the ends of your tied-up hair dusting over your shoulders and the heels of your loafers scuffing along the carpet as you skip away from him.
you’re no different than a butterfly— or flutterby, as you preferred to call them, al haitham had noticed once— prancing about in that carefree way you tend to do. wildly sweet and playful, paradoxically awkward.
haithie.
what a peculiar feeling the nickname brings him: a certain eagerness, childlike joy bubbling in his tummy and giving rise to something that he can’t quite comprehend
no one’s ever called him by a nickname before. it’s…a new feeling.
a nice feeling.
for once, al haitham, “seemingly omniscient even at the age of eleven” al haitham, feels the unusual thrum in his chest and the warmth of his cheeks, and does not know of a name to place to them.
a shrill squeak brings him out of his head, and he watches you trip, tumble to the ground, scrape your palms and lay there pathetically on your knees with your shoulders slumped over.
what a clumsy little flutterby you are.
not a mere few seconds pass before tiny hiccups are peeled from your throat and you begin to gently weep. al haitham’s body has a mind of its own as he find himself making his way over to you, digging in his knapsack for his mini first-aid kit, fishing out a bandage.
“you’re hurt.” the boy who you think dislikes you, speaks to you for the first time, so you look up at him for the first time, lips wobbly and lashes sticky and cheeks glistening.
his face, however, is unchanging; he is as straight-lipped as you’d expect him to be, brows set in concentration and eyes sharp, piercing. but if you look closely, you’d see how the edges are clouded in concern, blunted down and soft and tender and caring— all the things you’d expect him not to be.
“you really ought to be more careful,” he leans down to your level, wags the bandage in front of your face, “if you hurt your hands, how else will you be able to take good notes in class? you’re trying to get first rank, aren’t you?”
his words present themselves to you as a challenge and it makes you seethe, furrow your brows, scrunch up your nose, pout.
“you… you…”
al haitham thinks you appear more silly than you do angry. “you’ll get wrinkles early on if you keep frowning like that.”
“don’t pater— pat— hmph! don’t patronize me!” you yap the too-difficult word awkwardly, snatch the bandage from his hand and run off, cheeks swollen like freshly puffed corn, either from the pain stinging at your palms or in embarrassment at having made a fool of yourself in front of your very first, very real, perhaps unrequited, and only love.
where does this leave you, now, two decades later…? standing uncomfortably with one knee up on your kitchen counter, tippy toes barely brushing the floor as you aimlessly reach for the spice tin sitting at the top of the pantry.
grappling at air, you slide your hand over to the left of the shelf, and then to the right, and back to the left again, until you think you finally have it when you feel cool metal graze over your fingers. stretching, wiggling your fingers as far as you can, you hook a nail under the side clasp and drag it to the ledge of the shelf; you have it, until—
“ow!” your hand flys down to the top of your thigh where your skirt has ridden up in your position that has you rather exposed, to where two lithe fingers much larger than your own surprise you with a pinch, and then a cheeky squeeze to your rear.
“need help with that?” before you can register it, your husband reaches up with ease to take the spice tin in his own hand, shaking it in front of your face almost tantalizingly.
you frown.
but then you catch sight of the flex of his bicep as he brings it down to your level, the veins lining his forearms, his thumbs drumming playfully over the tin, the ring snug on his fourth finger clinking and clanking against it. mellifluous in its dissonance.
your frown lessens.
“haithie, i almost had it!” you lower yourself to the ground and whine, craning your neck up towards al haitham. it’s merely a moment after that he raises the spice tin high in the air with a pompous smirk on his face that only serves to make him even more handsome— up, up, up… higher up than the top shelf of the pantry and certainly much too high for you to reach.
his grin widens when you bounce on the balls of your feet, grip at his shirt and use it for leverage as you try with all your might to take the tin from him. to no avail, of course.
you furrow your brows and puff out your cheek, look up at him as if you were about to throw a tantrum and then he’s brought back 20 years to his school library, akademiya-prep physics textbook in his hands and you splayed on the floor in front of him with your pigtails and scraped palms and blubbery cheeks and sullen little flutterby wings.
“you’re awful.”
"and you're too short to reach that shelf, habibti,” he muses, eyes swimming with hazy mirth as he finally holds out the spice tin for you to grab, watches on with a tender smile as you hug it to your chest and release a dissatisfied little hmph!
you’re older now, shorter than him now— your lips are fuller and your cheeks are dimpled with smile lines, but your childish peevishness has remained. perhaps it’s one of the things that endears him most to you.
"i guess it just can’t be helped.” your lover placates you in the way he knows best, running his knuckles adoringly along the lift of your cheekbone because you’re just so cute when you get all petulant like this, because you melt under his touch like cream in the sun, because your pout softens and before you realize it you’re biting on your lip to hold back a simple smile.
oh, how little effort it takes to soothe your heart. his little flutterby.
740 notes
·
View notes
Text
mischievous streak | neuvilette
just another day of you pining over neuvilette and poor wriothesley has to hear all about it. (dw neuvilette makes an appearance!!) fluff. crack. this one is so unserious. 0.7k words
“and when he said ‘oratrice oratrice mecanique d'analyse’ did you hear it, wrio?” you swooned, another day of fanning over the iudex of fountaine to your best friend, wriothesley.
“did you?” the duke replied increduosly, as if not really getting the reason why that was the part you’re fawning over. “oh and when he declared ‘guilty’ verdict with such conviction and charisma to that person, i wished that was me.” you went on, the conversation was most definitely one-sided.
“...you wished that you’re in a court and getting a ‘guilty’ verdict?” he blinked, not knowing how to react when the things you’re saying gets more insane as each day passed. “well not really, but i am certainly guilty. guilty for wanting to climb him like a-“
wriothesley cut you off with an exaggerated cough.
“you finish that sentence and i’m sending you to the authorities.” you crossed your arm, “you’re the authorities.” he sighed, “yes and i’m not above putting cuffs on you and throw you to one of the cell.”
you gasped, “you wouldn’t. you’d put me in jail because of love?”
“insanity is what you are, (y/n). seriously, just talk to him.” he picked up his cup of tea wanting to take another sip. “and what do i say, that i’ve been in love with him since forever and that i’d give him a limb in exchange for a date?”
“sure. or, you could say you want to get to know him a little better, and ask him out for some lunch?” he said, his pen not stopping on checking the piling documents on his table. “but that’s like super obvious!” you retorted.
“and saying you’d give him one of your limb isn’t...?” he gave you a side-eye before getting back to his paper. “hmm, fair point.” you tapped your chin with your finger. “but he doesn’t seem like the type who’d just go out with anyone, no? i don’t think i’ve ever seen him with someone,” you claimed, thinking back to all the times you passed him accidentally by remembering his schedules.
“you’re right, but i don’t think that’s by his choice though. i think some people just got really intimidated by the idea of casually hanging out with the iudex of fountaine.” he shrugged. “what?! that’s not fair, even though he’s really kind hearted?”
the man in front of you gave you a mocking smile. “yeah, and you’d know hm? since you hang out with him so much,” he teased. “i don’t like you, you’re attacking me for no reason.” you grumbled. wriothesley just chuckled good naturedly before you continued.
“gosh but seriously, he should have someone by his side, don’t you think? someone’s who’s supportive, who will stand by him no matter what. you know, someone like me? i would treat him so good. i would make him food all day, draw him a bubble bath-“
a cough cut you off, you’d think it’s wriothesley and his unwillingness to hear your sincerity about your feelings towards neuvilette, but when you see that his expression was just as startled, you shut your lips.
both of you turned your heads to the end of the stairs and there he is.
neuvilette.
yes, the very one you’ve been crushing on since forever, oh and did i mention you just said you’d draw him a bubble bath?
the tip of his ears was visibly rosy, as he looked like he tried so hard not to look embarrassed or even phased. “i was let in by the guard, i didn’t realize there is another guest.”
you closed your eyes, counting slowly to three because perhaps it would be able to turn back time, even just a little. wriothesley was just covering his mouth, and you’d bet the other limb you have that he’s currently trying his harderst to hold back a laugh.
this is a situation. a situation you need to diffuse fast with your quick thinking.
you turned to wriothesley. “that’s why i said duke, not only you don’t need to reduce my sentence, please don’t let me out from this jail forever. i would endanger the civilians. thank you for your time duke wriothesley, i am now going to go back to my cell.”
hearing that was just the last straw for your best friend, he laughed out loud. doubling over and all that as he clutched his stomach. after a solid two minutes of him just laughing and you facepalmed yourself, wriothesley gained his composure.
“neuvilette, meet (y/n), the all-over supervisor of the fortress of meropide.”
you glared at him before giving the long-haired man your sweetest smile.
“hello, it’s nice to finally see you down here in the flesh, monsieur neuvilette.” you nodded at him in which he replied with a slight smile. “likewise and please, just call me neuvilette.”
neuvilette gave wriothesley a document as he immediately skimmed through it. “i see, well there’s nothing here that i can give an input on better than (y/n), this is more of their expertise.” your head turned so quick as if you heard a blaring alarm. “then, i would appreciate your insight on this matter if you have the time,” neuvilette said as looked at you and there’s no way you could say no.
“of course! perhaps over lunch? it’s the right time, no?” you bounced back, now feeling excited than nervous. he chuckled at the enthusiasm as he agreed. “yes, you’re right. but perhaps you should know i’m not ready yet for someone to draw me a bubble bath after just one lunch.” he put his fist over his mouth, covering his smile. so turned out the iudex of fountaine has a mischievous streak in his personality after all.
that’s nice. not for your already beyond embarrassed state, though.
“wriothesley, just arrest me right now please.”
900 notes
·
View notes
Text
જ⁀ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐀 — 100 follower event !
𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ welcome to our grand opening ! in honour of your faithful patronage — we are giving limited-time tickets to our latest performances.
𓍢ִ໋ please take a look at the list of performances below. we hope you find something to your liking.
𓍢ִ໋ of course, our music house must be kept with the utmost care, hence, abide by the rules and treat our staff with respect. of course, don't forget to dress in your finest clothing.
𓍢ִ໋ currently our house is only providing tickets for honkai star rail. these include the aeons and unreleased characters. you can only request one character per performance. however, feel free to enter our house again if you feel obliged.
𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ here is our repertoire of performances by our orchestras, soloists, and dancers.
𓍢ִ໋ to quickly note, when sending your request please say, “a ticket for ( performance name)” this helps with organizing our guests. furthermore, a reblog will be highly appreciated, thank you !
🪞𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐈 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐄 ノ a classical dance of the swan mixed with the tender swirl of the abyss. ( lovers that slip through each other's grasp. angst. )
🎠 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ノ a play between two emerging from the long capture of winter, searching for each other in spring. ( friends that lead back to each other, again and again. fluff & angst. )
🃏 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 ノa dance rife with passion and the seething need to conquer the odds, at unprecedented costs. ( lovers that love in the arms of others. angst. )
🍴𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐂 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 ノ a string quartet of collection and recollection. sweet and bitter. ( lovers that collect each other, piece by piece and display it in peculiar ways. fluff & angst. )
🦪 𝐒𝐀𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐀 ノan orchestra rite of freedom found beyond the confines of spoken language. ever-changing yet eternal. ( intimacy that blossoms in unexpected and subtle ways. fluff. )
🪩 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ノa play of fourteen grand riches uncovered by two intrepid academics that abruptly vanish upon the fortnight. ( when two people unite in unforgettable ways: a bond that blazed yet burned with vibrancy. fluff & angst. )
🪰 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 ノ a dance of two vile butterflies that tare each other's wings apart, plummeting to the ground- together- in harmony. ( loathing that transforms and blossoms. fluff & angst. )
🫧 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐑 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 ノa solo pianist who drew ardency from notes and took sips of the moon. all in hopes of reaching the heavens. ( lovers that hold deep wishes that then come true. fluff. )
🪐 𝐄𝐗𝐎𝐃𝐔𝐒 ノthe orchestra song of retribution and hope for a sun that has long set. ( a gradually rekindling bond between two ill-fated souls. angst & fluff. )
⚖️ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐘𝐀𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 ノ a ceremony of all our artists in which the ceiling comes crashing down. ( in which lovers do the unthinkable. angst. )
𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ the house of musica is expected to depart on may 31st, thus, our box is open from now till that date.
𓍢ִ໋ we look forward to receiving you and other esteemed guests far and wide. once again, the house of musica bows down and welcomes you, let the limelight consume you wholly.
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝐎𝐇 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐄!
୨♡୧ pairings :: roommate!welt x reader ; roommate!blade x reader ; roommate!gepard x reader
୨♡୧ contains :: modern!au, nothing crazy maybe some suggestive stuff and talking about lack of shirts, alcohol consumption but like rlly mild like I'm talking a few glasses of wine
୨♡୧ gia's notes :: screaming sobbing crying i got welt AND sampo on the same 10 pull :> anyways first exam in five days lets fucking gooooo. something short and sweet in the meanwhile
୨♡୧ request :: @sentieence 𖦹 (hope that this is enough blade content for you, i threw in a couple extra hee hee har)
𓆩♡𓆪 WELT
for an animator who mostly works from home, your roommate is surprisingly elusive
of course, you know what he looks like because you met him when you first moved in
he's smart, poised, handsome, and kind - as made apparent by his insistence on helping you move all of your boxes of belongings into the place
he was always polite, never overstepped boundaries, bid you a good morning or night whenever your paths crossed
and, well, that was about it
you knew that welt worked in his room, but if it weren't for his occasional appearances, it was almost like you were living entirely on your own
which wasn't exactly awful, per se, but you did want to get to know your roommate better
however, life's plans always manage to throw a wrench into the mix
your regular routine of work and returning home was interrupted with the unforeseen circumstance of having to stay later to finish a project in time- leaving you exhausted before you even left the building and began your journey back home
your stomach began growling as you climbed the stairs to your apartment, and you found yourself wondering what takeout you would rely on this evening to carry you through to the next day
those thoughts were interrupted by the enticing aroma of food cooking entering your nostrils as soon as you swung your front door open
you paused in confusion, taking a second to shed your shoes and coat before wandering into your kitchen, met with the surprising sight of your roommate with his back to you, humming quietly as he cooked himself a meal
you were almost hesitant to interrupt him, yet your stomach had other plans as it growled embarrassingly loud, causing welt to glance behind him and shoot you a quick smile before turning his attention back to the stove
"come sit, i'm making enough for two"
you grinned at his words, setting the table before settling down and watching welt cook with a practised grace
even in his own home, he dressed so formally, with his crisp button-down's sleeves rolled up to his reveal his forearms, the tendons rippling in such a way as he stirred the contents of the pan that you wondered just how an animator could have that physique-
you coughed to rid yourself of those thoughts, instead focusing on your drink as welt plated up the steaming food, placing one in front of you before taking a seat across from you
it all felt very intimate, and you tried not to get flustered as you made eye contact with your roommate from across the table
despite the easy expression he wore, his eyes met your gaze with an intensity that demanded you to match it, making you almost shrink back into your chair as welt nonchalantly took a bite, humming to himself in satisfaction
you followed his lead, feeling the tension in your shoulders as you sat back in your chair and appreciated welt's cooking
"you should cook more often" you sighed
welt let out a chuckle
"is that so?"
you hummed in affirmation, eagerly finishing your plate, the hot meal leaving you feeling fully satiated
you accidentally made eye contact with welt as you took your last bite, a certain look of endearment adorned by him that had you stuttering, teeth scraping unpleasantly around your fork
"i'll cook as much as you want to as long as you join me for the meal"
you almost choked on your food, feeling very self conscious all over again as welt's gaze remained fixed on you, chin propped up by his arm as that same accursed look on his face appraised you
"that would be nice"
𓆩♡𓆪 BLADE
on all counts, your roommate was an asshole
he was irritable, didn't clean up after himself unless you nagged him, and had woken you from your sleep more times than you can count because of whatever stupid shit he's up to that requires him to thump his way around the flat
it was infuriating, but hey, rent was cheap and the place you're in isn't half bad
all you have to do now is endure the circumstances for the remainder of your lease
you did your best to avoid the aptly named blade and his sharp mouth
mornings were particularly risky, with his half-asleep state invoking even more snide comments than usual as he makes himself a cup of coffee, black with no sugar
and then he proceeds to leave the unwashed mug in the sink
it pisses you off when you come back home at the end of your day and see it later alongside a stack of other dishes, dark ring of residual coffee staining the perfectly good piece of ceramic, and there's some string inside you that snaps and has you huffing and puffing your way over to your flatmate's room and knocking on it persistently
once, twice, three times
you hear an exaggerated sigh before the sound of his muffled footsteps, and then the door is being swung open and you're ready to chew him out for what feels like the millionth time
and then your eyes register the fact that youre stood face to face with his bare chest and the words die on your lips
the baggy clothes he wore really didn't serve him justice, and it's an active effort to peel your eyes away from his toned chest to meet his eyes, only to see a flash of amusement as he watches you make a fool of yourself
"something wrong?"
the bastard's enjoying this
"wash your dishes" you squeak out, before hightailing it back to your own room and trying to forget the image of your hot asshole roommate without a shirt on that was now branded onto the back of your eyelids
and it seemed that blade hadn't forgotten your encounter either
the next morning you were pleasantly surprised to see the dishes were done and set to dry, and you even picked out the same mug blade had used yesterday for your own coffee
the sound of the kettle must have masked his footsteps, because you almost jumped out of your skin when you heard blade grunt out a morning before reaching for the just-boiled water and the mug you placed on the counter
you turn around to tell him to get his own, though you're surprised to be greeted with the wide expanse of his bare back, all muscle that coils and stretches as he added milk and sugar to the drink and stirred it with a spoon and turning to face you yet again, smirk adorning his face as he took a long sip from your own cup
you bite the inside of your cheek, focusing your gaze onto his smug face as he leaned back against the counter, taking an exaggerated stretch back that let his muscles flex
"i thought you didn't like milk and sugar"
"i don't, but you do"
blade slid the mug across the counter back towards you, making his way out of the kitchen leisurely as if he hadn't just inadvertedly confessed that he memorised how you make your coffee
you take a sip and your suspicions are confirmed as it tastes the exact same as you make it, and you smile down at your drink despite yourself
having blade as a roommate might just work out after all
𓆩♡𓆪 GEPARD
gepard my beloved
honestly good luck living with this man and not having a massive crush on him
you feel guilty, but the thought of just how good of a boyfriend gepard would be has crossed your mind multiple times
the domestic setting of already living together doesn't exactly help these thoughts, either
over the late nights you've spent staying up talking, and the manoeuvring around each other in your cramped cosy apartment that has led to more brushes and lingering touches than you could count, this great image of intimacy has been constructed over the past months
the fact that he's single and painfully attractive is something that you're acutely aware of as well
even when alone, your mind often wandered back to that glaring fact, and on the rare occasion you let yourself indulge in the what ifs and maybes surrounding gepard
and with a couple glasses of wine in you right now, those thoughts were running rampant
it was a friday night and you were finally home from work, dressed in your comfiest clothes and just unwinding in the living room watching a trashy romcom with some takeout
and speak of the devil, you heard the familiar sound of your door being unlocked as gepard let himself in with a mumbled greeting, the door soon slamming shut behind him
you didn't turn your head, instead listening to him curse as he tripped over something in the hall, and his muted footsteps as he made his way to where you were sat
"long day, huh?" you teased, turning your head just in time to watch him loosen his tie with one hand, the pale column of his throat suddenly leaving your throat dry and reaching for your glass again
"something like that"
gepard shuffled over, intercepting it before you could place it back down on the table and took a sip from the same spot you did, making you feel flushed for reasons other than the alcohol working its way through your system
you placed your feet on the floor, about to shuffle up on the couch in anticipation of him taking a seat next to you, though the man surprised you as he crouched down, opting to sit in between your legs, his broad shoulders nestling comfortably against your knees
well, that was new
you zeroed in on his hair, reaching out your hand before thinking and combing through his tousled locks
you didn't expect the content sigh he let out at your simple action, watching the way his shoulders softened and he leaned back into you, his head now resting comfortably against your thigh
the ends of his hair tickled your bare skin, and you tried not to squirm at the feeling of his eyelashes fluttering closed as he hummed gently at your ministrations, basking in your presence
the thought of gepard having the exact mannerisms of a cat crossed your mind, and the giggle that escaped your lips was not lost on him, as he craned his head back to look you at you, brows furrowed at your mirth
"what?"
"nothing," you hummed, continuing to card your fingers through his silky hair, absentmindedly twisting a lock of it around your finger, watching the man sigh and sink back against you from his place on the floor
the weight of him resting against your legs just felt so right, and you felt yourself begin to relax into the position as well, your attention turning back to the movie as you continued your tipsy affection on your roommate
that seemed to be a sobering thought as you remembered that fact, and you were half tempted to pull away if it weren't for gepard looping his hands around your thighs, thumbs tracing absentminded patterns of his own into your skin, eyes fixed straight ahead
well, if he's not complaining, you didn't exactly see a reason why you should be either
୨♡୧ honkai star rail masterlist
5K notes
·
View notes
Note
also. do you think kazhua would be ticklish
-rin
ooo ticklish kazuha? rin really out here feeding into my kazuha brainrots…don’t get me started at 12am now…but i mean if you insist—
incoming (ticklish) bf kazuha headcanons:
as for whether or not kazuha would be ticklish, my answer to that question is, yes…BUT hear me out. let me cook👀
he’s very much a words of affirmation and quality time love language kind of guy for a platonic relationship
but in a romantic setting…oh you’re definitely gonna see some physical touch in there
i feel like hands are a big thing for him like he’s always looking to be holding your hand cause he just loves the feeling
the kind to gently kiss the back of your hand, your fingers, and down to your wrist which for you is admittedly kind of ticklish
not ticklish in a way that has you laughing but the kind that just sends a fluttery feeling all throughout your body
and he of course realizes this very quickly. so what does he do?
playfully teases you w/ it of course
you’ll be in the middle of typing something away on your laptop or writing something, fully immersed in your work
meanwhile kazuha is quietly watching beside you, feeling a bit needy because…archons you’ve been at it for the past hour and haven’t fully acknowledge him since he got home aside from greeting him with a smile
he’ll then do that thing of reaching his hand under yours, stopping you in your typing or if you’re holding a pencil, he’ll replace it with his interlocking your fingers letting the pencil fall
“kazu what’s wrong—” begins to kiss your hand painfully slow (in a good way) and softly starting at your fingertips and gradually working his way down and…oh great, now you’ve lost focus
what about him though? he gets all the fun of teasing the hell out of you with those hand kisses of his
you feel it’s only fair if you did the same. so now it’s your turn
you remember trying to subtly ask him if he was ticklish anywhere playing it off as some random question a friend had asked you
but he saw right through you. laughing softly at your strange but cute behavior, “love, are you trying to ask if i’m ticklish or not?”
damn him and his high sense of awareness
guess it’s time for plan b
at random points throughout the day, you’ll attempt to attack him with tickles. when he’s washing the dishes you’ll sneak up behind him and try to tickle his sides
“hm? yes love, did you need something?” nothing.
or when he’s laying down on the couch reading a book you’ll pretend to just walk by and then try to tickle his stomach but he’ll just look at you with that cute face of his like “…?”
“AHHH THIS IS SO UNFAIR! I HATE YOU!” watches you storm out of the living room a bit dumbfounded
dw he’ll come find you later and get you to stop being grumpy with him by offering to cuddle🥹
but then…that fateful finally day came
the two of you were cuddled up in bed, arms wrapped him as he read his book while brushing your hair that was slowly lulling you to sleep
wanting a more comfortable position, you moved your head away from his chest, now nuzzling into his neck
your small warm breaths hitting his neck, the way your nose softly brushed against his skin…his hand in your hair stopped in its motions.
“hmm…why’d you stop?” you frowned, stirring yourself awake as you moved your head away to look at him and that's when you saw the way his cheeks were now dusted in pink
you’ve found his weakness
now go back to those previous failed attempts of yours and replace them with you going up to him and buying yourself into his neck using the excuse of saying you just love the way he smells when he asks what you’re doing
which was a half truth anyways. he does smell good
idk why but i always imagined his scent to be some combination of vanilla orchid with amber/musk and some jasmine to give it that floral edge (personal hc of mine dont come at me yall)
on days when you were feeling extra mischievous you’d litter his neck with feather light kisses that always has him in a blushing mess
mission success! you finally got your revenge on him >:)
but just as you're about to walk away, feeling fully satisfied with yourself, he grabs your wrist, pulling you right back to him
“you didn't think i’d just let you get away with all the teasing you’ve been doing to me, did you dove?”
OOP…sir-?😳
ahem. soo i’ll leave you all with this cute pic of smiling kazu and your imaginations while i go to sleep for the night😌
115 notes
·
View notes