kinich turns up at your door injured, with an apology and feelings he's not familiar with
word count - 1.8k+
pairing - kinich x reader
warnings - mentions of blood
author's note: uhhh hello genshinblr, i'm veryyy new on here :) and this is my first work on here! i would love it if you could interact - however you'd like, and i would especially love it if you share your thoughts on it! it's a little more rushed than i would have preferred. i've been under the weather but i wanted to put something out at least sooo here it is :) a lil some thing on my fav boy lately heheh
anyway feel free to drop in and leave a request if you'd like :)
side note folks: saliva is actually good for healing your wounds so don't forget to make out with ur crush when your lips get busted lol
masterlist
request here | rules
“Did I wake you?”
Kinich’s voice is quieter than usual as you open the door to him at some 2:13 am in the night. The shadows being cast upon his face make it difficult for you to see his expressions but the tremble of his body sparks concern through you.
“Kinich, what are you doing here?”
Kinich lets out a sound somewhere between a groan and a whimper. You step forward as he teeters on his feet, arms wrapping around his torso in support. A gasp leaves your mouth as his body moves from under the shadows and into the soft night light. Blood. Blood and cuts over his face. You’re horrified even more when you realize that you feel some wetness under your hand where your arm wraps around him.
“Uh, I needed some help,” Kinich mutters, body tense as he tries not to lean all his weight on you.
Kinich never asks for help. Things could go awry in a million ways, but Kinich refused to rely on anyone. His pride as most people say, or perhaps his past, as you think, stops him from ever leaning on someone. So to find him at your doorstep at two in the middle of the night, asking for help - must mean it's serious. And that makes your heart sink.
You hurry and tug him inside - he stumbles along.
“What happened?” Your voice drips with concern, the haze that usually slips in with the dwindling hours of the night completely fades.
You carefully aid him to sit on the small couch in your living room and turn to flip on the lights. The sight that greets you as you turn back to face him, makes you freeze in your tracks. “Kinich…”
His lip is busted and there’s a cut above his eyebrow, blood dripping along the side of his face. Your eyes move lower and see a gash over his chest and on the side of his torso. A deep ache squeezes through your heart and you rush into motion.
This is not how you last saw Kinich earlier in the afternoon when you had gotten into an argument, as always, about a commission he accepted. It was not out of the ordinary for you and Kinich to not see eye to eye about how you wanted to do things. This, in general, led to a lot of squabbles - however much of it Kinich would even entertain at all really.
Over the years, you and Kinich had developed somewhat of a friendship, at least whatever semblance of a friendship Kinich allows himself the privilege of. You spent a lot of time hanging out - you, him and Mualani were often found together. And between Mualani’s enthusiasm and his lack thereof, you were somewhere in the middle, somewhere more within Kinich’s comfort zone. And if you were being completely honest…you had grown something similar to a soft spot for this guy over the years. That did not mean Kinich did not frustrate you to the end of your wits.
Either way, holding fondness and affection for Kinich felt like extreme sports given the way he lived - uncaring of how things affected himself and in turn others. The boy was notorious for the way he seemed to hold no concern about his well-being and his tendency to accept dangerous, risky commissions that often felt like he was putting his safety on the line. To add to your worry, he was also hellbent on not accepting help.
So to no one’s surprise when he accepted another commission this morning - one which required him to into a particularly dangerous part of the wildlife all alone - you had gotten into an argument, a more serious one. You were trying to convince him to not take it up. The area was infamous for aggressive saurians and even some ruthless treasure hoarders who were not kind to ‘trespassers’. Kinich refused to drop the commission, insistent on doing it. When you suggested that he take someone along, another experienced adventurer, he had shut you down.
“This commission is paying good money. Sharing the commission means splitting the money, I don’t want to do that.” You doubt that was the only reason, he just did not want additional help, as always. Typical Kinich.
When you offered to tag along, pushing him to let you accompany him he had glared at you. Eyes fierce, words spiteful - “Y/N, you’re only going to make this trip more difficult for me. I don’t need an additional burden to look out for. And can you stop hovering around me like I’m a stupid kid? For Archon’s sake, stop doing that.”
His words had stung. Tears had quickly spring to your eyes and you had looked away from Kinich. So many thoughts rushed into your mind - were you overbearing? Did you bother him too much? He looked so frustrated. Did he dislike you? Just an inconvenience. A burden.
You had swallowed the hurt and nodded. “Okay…” You had whispered, before turning and breaking into a sprint toward your home. He hadn’t stopped you and you didn’t wait around to see the guilt slip into his eyes, fingers twitching by his side aching to stop you and apologize. But he didn’t. You went home and he went on the commission.
You’d come home and cried for some time, eyes red and swollen by the time Mualani came to check in on you in the evening. You didn’t tell her why, but she figured something had happened between you and Kinich. She kept you company and tried cheering you up with some gossip from her clan and stories from the market. After dinner, she had left and you had gotten into bed early with a book to keep your mind off the boy.
Now, you stood over the same boy who sat on your couch bloodied and bruised. You carefully yet swiftly assess the severity of his wounds before you head back into your bathroom to fetch your first aid box. You quickly sit in front of him. His face is contorted in pain and it tugs at your heartstrings.
“Can you help me take your shirt off? This one seems bad, let’s look at this first.”
Kinich murmurs his agreement and sits up straight to assist you in unzipping his top. Your hands come in contact with the bare skin of his shoulders as you push off the black fabric. Kinich trembles beneath your touch. It doesn’t go unnoticed.
The gash across his abdomen comes into view as Kinich collapses back against the couch and you suck in a deep breath at the sight. “Kinich… What the fuck did you get into?”
You quickly get into work, sanitizing the area and cleaning it up with antiseptic wipes to get a better look at the wound. It doesn’t seem deep enough to require stitches but it’s bad enough to scar. Bad enough for the blood to have soaked through his top. “I think you should check with the town healer tomorrow, Kinich.”
“It’s okay, I don’t think it’s that bad,” he said, all the while wincing at the sting of the alcohol. His muscles ripple under your touch, goosebumps littering his skin as you work.
You press your lips, holding back your words. Ever so stubborn. You wanted to avoid a repeat of the afternoon, now was not the time. You work in silence after that, the only sound being that of Kinich’s winces and the sharp breaths he sucks in through his teeth.
After you bandage his abdomen securely enough, you move on to the wounds on his face. You watch his face closely before leaning in. Your own breath stutters at the proximity and you find yourself clearing your throat as you apply ointment over his eyebrow.
Kinich’s eyes never leave you. His gaze seems fixed upon you. As you move on to cleaning his busted lips, he catches your eyes and the intense look in his makes your movements pause.
“What?” You ask, heat burning your cheeks.
“I’m sorry. For what I said… Earlier in the day.”
You nod, movements resuming as you dab the cotton ball to his lip. “You should be.”
You retract your touch, reaching out for the ointment. Kinich’s hand shoots up to grab yours. “Y/N… I truly am sorry.” He sighs. A pained expression flickers through his face and you’re almost worried his pain is getting worse but then he takes in a deep breath. He schools his expressions, eyes fluttering shut for a second before the sun-like gaze is back on yours. “I- I’m not the best at this. At asking for help or simply accepting it. I’m- I’m not familiar with having someone…someone caring for me the way you do. I’ve learned to be alone. I had to learn to be alone very early on and you know why.” He looks away, cheeks flushing pink. “Sometimes I don’t know what to do with the care you show for me. It’s not something I’m used to, not something I know. B-but I do know that I like that you care. I like that you look out for me. And I want to do the same for you.”
“Kinich…”
“I’m not that dense, Y/N. I know a thing or two about feelings. But…I’m sorry that I’m not too good at knowing what to do with these feelings. So…I wanted to start with apologizing.”
“Apology accepted.” You smile, fingers aching to touch. So you do. You raise your palm to cup his cheek, making him meet your gaze. “You were an absolute dick to me earlier and I did not like how you spoke to me. I care about you Kinich. So, so deeply. I know feelings like this are…well, daunting to come to terms with. But, they’re something I want to share with you.”
A small smile curves onto his lips. He shifts his face to press a kiss into the inside of the palm on his cheek. A shiver runs through you at the feather-light brush of his lips. Your eyes zero in on his mouth. Kinich’s smile deepens. His hand reaches out, slipping under your hair, settling on the nape of your neck, your eyes flitter close. He tugs you closer before you can figure out what’s happening. His lips press into yours, and something warm erupts beneath your ribcage, blooming through you like the first, soft rays of dawn splitting through the clouds. You lean in closer, angling your head so you can get a better taste of what lingers upon his soft, soft lips. Kinich’s lips are so soft. He tastes like honey, the rawest kind - sweet and bitter at the same time. There’s a hint of blood, you realize belatedly as your teeth graze the plushness of his bottom lip. The hiss of pain leaving him is what makes you pull apart. Both your lips are glistening with spit, swollen and redder.
“Sorry,” you whisper abashedly, unable to meet his eyes. “Uh, I forgot about that, let me just put on the ointment.”
As you fidget to fish out the long-forgotten ointment, Kinich stops you for the second time that night. A lop-sided smirk perched upon his inviting lips, eyes mirthful. “Well,” he begins as he tugs you closer. “You know what they say about the healing properties of saliva…”
if kinich is such a cold guy (literally) why don’t we cockwarm him 🥰
hello anon omg?? 🤭🤭🤭 (based on this hc)
wow this could go so many ways...cockwarming him while he's perhaps playing a game? it's raining outside, and he's already colder to the touch. so naturally, you're all cuddled up on now, face in his neck, comfortable on his lap. he's focused on his game, and you're there to give him some toasty company... his length is snug inside you — he feels all warmed up (in more ways than one) and you feel all full, truly a win-win situation if you think about it.
every now and then, you'll shift - half conscious and kinich will place a placating kiss to the curve of your neck. sometimes he'll meet your shifts with an instinctive thrust of his own hips.
at times, maybe kinich gets a little antsy - his focus shifting away from the game and towards you and how good and warm he feels inside you. and he'll toss away his controller and redirects all his attention towards you. other times, it's really all it is. it just feels so good to have you so close, to be all warm within you - it's a feeling that he really enjoys.
all in all, i think cockwarming kinich is quite a cozy and intimate affair.
kinich tends to run colder than the normal person — may be it has something to do with the fact that he was practically brought back from the dead. nonetheless, the guy feels cold easily. so it isn't a surprise when most nights when you're getting into bed, completely exhausted & done for the night, that kinich barely wastes a second before pulling your body into his. “warm,” is all he offers before he nuzzles into the nape of your neck and passes out.
some days - when it's rather rainy or the winter has settled in - he'll seek you out at odd times of the day. in the early mornings, soaking in your body warmth before he has to leave; in the middle of the day, when you're running an errand and he's just got done with a commission - he'll find you, a quick hug, a little nuzzle into your neck. on the colder days, his cold fingertips lead to blooming goosebumps on the warm haven of your skin.
all in all, kinich is a guy who runs cold but he melts within your warmth
hello!! can i pls request a xiao drabble or one-shot (whatever works for you) like its late at night and xiao sneaks in after a particularly bad night and reader just holds him?
it's like you feel him in the throes of your sleep. you stir, the cool breeze gently caressing your skin. you're facing away from the window when you wake up and you turn over to find xiao by your bed. he's sat on the floor, head in his arms as his tired eyes look up at you.
"xiao..." your words are quiet. for a moment you think it gets lost in the darkness of the night but then he closes his eyes. and a tear follows, glistening upon his porcelain skin like a pearl.
the moonlight filters into your room in flutters as the curtain dances with the breeze. you try again. "xiao..."
you're sitting up now, hands reaching out for your lover. your fingers find their way into his face. at the very first touch of your fingers, xiao shivers and then he breaks, quiet sobs wracking through him.
"my love," you whisper, trying to get him off his knees but he doesn't get up. instead, he looks up. his eyes are bloodshot, pale skin flushed cherry.
"i have failed them all. i have failed everyone." there is a quiver in his voice that no one else has ever been privy to.
"you have not," you argue. "you have loved and you have lost. wars are cruel. even to a yaksha such as yourself, my alatus."
in a beat - one xiao might consider a moment of weakness. but one you consider a step to kindness toward himself - xiao rests his head upon your thighs, his arms circle around you waist. your fingers are in his hair, at the nape of his neck. you give a squeeze, and he melts into you.
"you are a warrior, my love. but you are not the enemy."
you lean down pressing a kiss into his hair. and for the first time in a while, xiao feels like the air has finally entered his lungs.
wrote this very quickly and its not proofread lol
hope you like it anon <333
had a not-so-good day a couple days back, so this is something for me and for anybody else who isn't having a good day
alhaitham hears the sniffles before he sees you. there's an ache, deep in his chest, that awakens at the sound. his footsteps hurry as he makes his way through the seemingly endless bookshelves - something he usually wouldn't complain about - of the library.
he finds you, in the least visited corner full of accounting books. your back is turned to him, face buried in the shelves pretending to look for a very particular book.
“y/n,” alhaitham's voice is unbelievably soft. your name is called out with such tenderness that it immediately feels as though he's reaching out into your ribs to take your heart in his hands.
for a moment, you don't turn around - truly contemplating how terribly you'd break apart at the sight of the man you loved so much. you're sure you look terrible as you finally turn around, eyes already wet, nose pink and another sniffle making its way through.
you swallow deeply, as if willing to stomach all of the hurt, the disappointment and anxieties that kept spilling out of you.
you don't trust yourself with your words at the moment — a watery greeting is all you can manage. “hi.”
alhaitham steps closer, movements gentle even in the hurry to get to you. his hand reaches for the book in yours, fishing it out of your grip to place somewhere behind him on the grand oak table, he doesn't particularly take note. then he draws you towards him. you look away, afraid of what will become of you if you let him look at you at that.
but he knows you so well. his nimble fingers grab your chin, and ever-so-softly he raises it to meet your gaze. to most, alhaitham's gaze is sharp, calculating and detached - like an extremely smart scholar beyond one's intellect. but when alhaitham looks at you, his eyes are palpably softer - anyone could see it. you see it too, you'd be stupid not to.
that does it for you. a sob heaves its way through your lungs and alhaitham pulls you into his chest. his fingers are immediately in your hair.
“hey...” you can feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.
your shoulders, previously taut and strained, sink. as you weep into alhaitham's chest, it feels like a weight lifting off of your ribs — as if the ship has reached its home and anchored.
“it'll be okay,” he whispers into your hair. “even if it feels insurmountable right now, it'll be alright. we'll figure it out, together.”
and though it doesn't immediately make all your anxieties fade to dust, you feel safe. protected. within his arms, no one could hurt you. and anything that went wrong, you knew that the man holding you would help you rebuild it even if your own hands shook.
i know that this man is the kindest and most patient with his partner, i know
when zhongli returned home after an uneventful day at the wangshen funeral parlour, he realised that it was eerily quiet - unlike the way it would be when he'd often find you in bed reading. this quietness was rather stifling, rather dead.
he had undone his laced boots in a hurry, a sliver of worry slithering in.
“y/n?” he had called out, voice tentative but dripping with love. “are you home, darling?”
he hadn't received a response but he soon found you curled up into a ball in bed as he waltzed further into his home. the air is still, even as zhongli sinks into bed beside you, his fingers trailing on your body, reaching out, coaxing you into his arms. that is when the silence shatters — a soft sniffle, one that could easily be missed but for zhongli, it might as well have echoed between liyue’s highest peaks.
“oh my darling,” he whispers, his arms tugging you into his chest. the tenderness in his voice, the gentleness in his fingers finally breaks the dams you had been holding back the whole day and you finally cry.
zhongli’s heart clenches painfully. he has been alive for many milennia, seen things that may leave even archons haunted but he fears nothing hurts him more than seeing you in pain.
“are you alright, y/n? do you wish to speak about it?”
you incoherently mumble your dissent into his chest, voice wet and stuffy.
“alright,” zhongli simply agrees.
for a long time, the two of you stay there in the sanctity of your shared bed. your sniffles soon die out and you lay there, breaths still heavy, in your lover’s arms.
zhongli thinks to himself that this was the only power he needed, even if he is stripped off his elemental blessings, the power to comfort you - it is something he would never trade.
“my beloved…” zhongli rumbles into the top of your head. his long fingers massage the nape of your neck.
you melt under his touch, as if the knot you had been carrying in your chest the whole day finally falls loose. you feel the warm tendrils of sleep begin to reach out.
“sorry,” you begin. “i just had a really awful day.”
you can feel his lips curve into a soft smile before they press into your forehead. “i see not why you're apologizing to me.”
“you came home and then you had to…deal with all of this.”
his fingers don't stop their ministrations, and the just-right pressure against your scalp only makes your eyes flutter. “and? are you not mine to care for?”
“still…”
zhongli takes a moment to reach for your palm. he brings it up to his mouth before his lips press a reverent kiss on your ring clad finger. “did we not vow to love, cherish and care for each other, my beloved?”
“we did.”
he hums. “exactly. and who is morax if not a man of his words? a contract is a contract after all. a vow is a vow and i intend to keep it till my last breath.”
alhaitham doesn't appreciate being disturbed while he's trying to work and if you don't stop bugging him just because you're distracted, he'll simply have to take matters into his own hands and take his own sweet revenge.
word count - 2k+
pairing - alhaitham x reader; afab!reader
warnings - smut (mdni), oral sex (f!receiving), does this count as public sex lol? i think so
author's note: took longer than i wanted because i got super busy with irl stuff but here it is!! hehe :3 smexy time with alhaitham
and as always, i would love it if you leave your thoughts :)
masterlist
request here | rules
When you agreed with Alhaitham to have a late-night study session in a secluded corner at the Akademiya’s grand library, you didn’t think you would be in this position. Three hours ago you both had your noses buried in the books and now, well - Alhaitham had his nose buried in you.
Assignment season was in full swing at the Akademiya. The dreaded middle-of-the-semester workload had students consuming way too much caffeine and staying up way too late. You were not immune to this. This week you had already turned in a total of ten assignments and you were working on your eleventh one which you had to turn in tomorrow. You had been putting this one off the longest as it was for the module you disliked the most. You couldn’t help but leave it for the last minute, something rather unlike you.
Alhaitham had kindly offered to keep you company - that is, study at the same table in the library - for the night as the two of you worked on your separate tasks. The first hour or two went by in relative silence before you started getting antsy. You hated this assignment, I mean who would in their right mind write five thousand words about “The Cultural and Socioeconomic Effect of Growing Radishes instead of Carrots”? You weren’t even sure it was relevant to what you were majoring in, let alone studying. It was frustrating, You generally weren’t the kind to slack off and not put in effort into the work you turned in. You were someone who cared about the quality of assignments you turned in and what you were learning. But this damned paper… What could you possibly write about radishes and carrots that could be invigorating to read?
You sighed frustratedly, pushing away the books you had gathered earlier as if it would make your assignment magically disappear. Your mind felt completely numb after working on this for hours at a stretch - one could only read so much about root vegetables.
Alhaitham, on the other hand, was completely engrossed in whatever he was writing about. His unwavering attention to the task at hand made it seem like it was interesting…But, well, you were not finding your own task very appealing. At least, not as appealing as the sight in front of you. Alhaitham was clad in a cream-coloured shirt, his sweater thrown over the back of his chair. His brown pants complimented his long legs and his shoes were halfway kicked off. By some miracle, his headphones were off today. His thin-rimmed glasses were perched upon his sharp nose and you couldn’t help but admire how the few strands of his ashy hair fell over his forehead. You almost wanted to reach out and tuck them back in place.
“Quit staring you creep.”
You feel your face flush, gaze immediately flickering away. You clear your throat. “I wasn’t staring.”
Alhaitham’s lips curve into a barely-there smirk. He looked smug - somehow, that pissed you off and charmed you just the same. “Sure, darling. You absolutely were not staring holes into my skull just now.”
“I wasn’t!” You insist indignantly, eyebrows bunching up into an ingenuine frown.
He still doesn’t look up from his assignment as he continues working. “Whatever, Y/N. Get back to your work and let me be in peace too.”
You scowl at his steady focus. You were mind-bogglingly bored and here he was, writing away - his sleeves rolled up to expose his forearms, hair falling over his eyes just… so perfectly.
You try and turn your attention back to your work, you really do. But it was all…Alhaitham’s fault - him and his insufferably, stupidly handsome face. You try to continue writing your assignment, highlighting how switching between carrots and radishes will essentially affect culinary practices and in turn, affect the culture in the long run. But. But Alhaitham’s lips pursed between his teeth, the pink tips of his pale fingers, the rings clad on the length of them, the slow blinks of his gorgeous green eyes…were so much more interesting. So much more inviting.
It truly was as if you were captivated; eyes following the smallest of his movements like a kitten learning to hunt.
Alhaitham’s deep sigh and the clatter of his pen as he drops it pull you out of your trance. You return his sharp gaze with a blank gaze, blinking dopily. “Okay Y/N, what’s up with you? What’s got you so distracted tonight?”
“You,” you answer, only half-consciously.
He arches his brow, a thinly veiled simper stretched on his lips. “Me?” he enquires, voice dripping with a teasing lilt.
You flush at his words, internally cursing yourself for your loose lips - but also him, because that was also his fault!
“What? Cat got your tongue, darling?”
You roll your eyes at him, huffing. “Don’t bug me!”
“Bug you? I’m not the one gawking at you instead of working.”
“I was not gawking!” You protest - uselessly at that because it only makes Alhaitham chuckle cockily.
For a few seconds, Alhaitham watches you carefully, eyes taking in your flushed cheeks and your short breaths, and your tongue peeking out to wet your parted lips. He slowly tilts his head to the side, eyes drinking in the sight in front of him like a predator studying its prey. Then he smiles wolfishly. Your heartbeat stutters.
Alhaitham stands up from his seat, stalking toward you. His arms cage you in as you lean back against the chair. “What is it, hmm?” He bends towards you, words spoken softly right into your ear. “Finding the sight a little too distracting, perhaps?”
“N-no.”
“Really?” He asks, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear, trailing down the side of your cheek. His thumb brushes over your lips. “I could help, you know? Ward off the distractions… You just have to admit it.”
“Th-there’s nothing to admit,” you fumble over your words, tongue staggering at the feeling of his lips trailing the path of his hand like a phantom of his touch.
You swear you can feel his tongue on your ear as his fingers find their way into your hair. “Sure about that, darling? I could simply satisfy you, have you twitching in a much more interesting way.”
A sound somewhere between a whimper and a moan escapes you as Alhaitham places a wet kiss to your jaw, teeth grazing the side of your neck. He has the audacity to laugh. “Hmm, maybe I should also get my revenge for how you keep distracting me…What do you say?”
At your soft words of consent and a nod, Alhaitham does not waste a moment before his lips press into yours. His lips are softer and more pillowy than you had imagined. And… well you had imagined it embarrassingly often. His mouth coaxes yours open and the kiss turns sloppier, messier in a way that has you whining into the heated press of flesh.
Alhaitham’s hands shift down from your neck to the dip of your waist, grip squeezing. He nips at your lips before breaking apart, a line of spit stretching from your mouth to his. Both your eyes seem to be glassed over, minds a little too cottony.
He presses another fleeting kiss to your lips before he mutters, almost as if in a stupor. “Taste so sweet…”
He shoves the books on the table to the side, before yanking off his glasses. His grip on you is strong and unforgiving as he pulls you up from the chair and perches you onto the table. He presses wet kisses down the expanse of your neck. “I need you to be quiet for me, darling. Can you do that?”
You nod. Words seem to have left you. Alhaitham’s hands skim down the fabric of your dress as he kisses you, ghostly touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. His hands massage the soft flesh of your thighs, the skirt of your dress riding up as he stands between your legs.
His kisses are feverish over your skin as he slowly sinks down to his knees in front of you, between your limbs. “Remember to be quiet, okay?" He instructs you, as he props your legs over his shoulder. We don’t want anyone coming down to this section.”
A breathy agreement later, Alhaitham is nibbling at your thighs as he nears where you need him most. He follows his bites with a lick of his tongue and simply this has you trembling in his hold. Before you know it, his fingers are hooking on the elastic of your underwear and tugging it down in one, swift motion. The cold air that hits your core barely has a moment to make you shiver before his lips are on you.
What a sight to see indeed. Hours ago the two of you were occupied with your books and assignments. Wouldn’t one agree this kind of preoccupation was much more welcome?
He had you seated on the edge of the library's opulent mahogany table while your skirt was bunched up around your hips and your legs were thrown over his shoulders as he diligently ate you out. His tongue was skilled in its movements, swirling over your sensitive nub in a way that had you twitching. His palms had your thighs in a vice grip, fingers flexing over it as you shook under him.
Your vision swims. It’s as if there are sparks under your eyelids, your own personal star shower that Alhaitham has brought right to you. At least, that’s what his mouth on you feels like; an experience ethereal and cosmic enough to have you whimpering his name like a prayer. Reverent echoes of ‘Alhaitham’ bounce off the bookshelves and back within the sanctity of the moment. Alhaitham hums, acknowledging your pleas, the sound sending shivers through you. If your whispers of his name were a prayer then what was he, if not a deity on his knees, consuming nectar so divine that it could rival the heaven’s ambrosia.
“S-shit Alhaitham,” your voice comes out high pitched, sounding nearly unfamiliar to you.
Alhaitham nips you in response before he looks up from between your legs. His mouth is glistening — from spit and your arousal, and the mere sight of it has you clenching. “M’not done, sweetheart. Be good and let me finish, hmm?”
He dives back in before you can answer, his tongue prodding at your entrance in a manner that has you grabbing a fistful of his hair. Alhaitham’s hands tighten around the supple flesh of your legs, pulling them apart as you close your thighs around him. He groans, mouth still on you, and the vibrations of the sound hit you straight in the core. The feeling of your impending orgasm only grows as his finger joins his ministrations, the cold press of his rings urging you on. The knot in your stomach keeps tightening and tightening until a particular curl of his tongue and the bite that follows it sends you over the edge. You thrash in his hold as your orgasm washes over you, biting the back of your hand to curb the wanton moan that escapes you.
Alhaitham is still lapping at you, helping you ride out your high until you finally push his head away out of over-sensitivity. He presses scattered kisses to the inside of your thighs, before he looks up at you, a Cheshire grin resting upon his lips. “Doing okay?”
“Huh…? Shit.” Your words are thick with the lingering pleasure, your mind fuzzy and your eyes hooded as you raise yourself on your arms to take a peek at Alhaitham who is still on his knees. His fingers knead the flesh of your hips, the feeling of it grounding and comforting. “Yes. Yes, I’m okay.”
“You sure?” He chides cheekily. “You still look plenty distracted to me, Y/N.”
“Fuck you,” you whisper, voice still breathless. Your cheeks are burning and your heart is still racing from the exquisite taste of pleasure that he brought to you. He had made a mess of you with just his tongue, and you couldn’t help the anticipation that shot through you at his suggestive insinuations.
Alhaitham’s smirk deepens and he arches his brow. “Oh? I'll be so honoured Y/N, but are you sure you want our first time to be on the library table?”
author's note: phew okay guys this is actually the first time I've written smut like this so I'm a bit?? I'm not sure if it's up to standard but I tried TT would love and welcome any constructive feedback you may have :) most of all though, i hope you enjoyed!
sorry if this is too explicit but your alhaitham piece just triggered off a bunch of ideas in my head 😮💨😮💨 but imagine alhaitham just being done with your back handed quips and mindless yapping when you're trying to work together in the library and he just needs to shut you awpppp for a second, so he 😔 does things to you 😔 only because he needed some peace and quiet of course 👀 not because he's devastatingly attracted you or anything
im seeing this so incredibly late so first of all, sorry anon TT second of all
alhaitham has you on your knees under the table - in some hidden corner of the library. his long, slender fingers are in your hair, occasionally massaging the back of your neck.
"look at you, hm? much better use of your mouth, don't you think?" his voice is low, yet still gentle. there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. it disappears quickly when his length hits the back of your throat. he bites down on his lip, holding back the deep groan building up in his throat. "fuck...darling."
your mind is a little blurry - hinged somewhere between the heavy weight on your tongue and the growing ache between your legs. in the back of your mind, there's an itch - like some piled up notes to go through but alhaitham's hips move, smooth in their swivel into your mouth and suddenly all other thoughts are out of the window.
aaaaand it could go a couple ways – maybe he could have you cockwarming him for a bit or he could be at the end of his wits with how good your mouth feels and rushes you back to his place for a good time hehe (this is just a thought dump)
