― lilith | minor, she/her, isfp.
― genshin: yanfei main, kazuha lover, ar 58, asia server (dm me if you wanna friend rq!).
― hsr: dan heng/blade main, dan heng/blade/ratio/boothill appreciator, tl 65, asia server.
at the ripe age of ten years old, heizou had already found himself a girlfriend. to be exact, his girlfriend was some girl he had found on roblox while playing roblox top model. unfortunately for heizou, his mom di not take this news lightly. fearing he was getting into dangerous situations, she confiscated his gadgets and grounded him, effectively making him loose contact with his beloved girlfriend. years later, heizou decides to rummage through his childhood bedroom and that ends with him finding his old ipad. deciding to log into his old roblox account, he finds messages upon messages from his childhood lover dating to months after he was grounded. now an adult, heizou is determined to find the person behind said account.
⭑.ᐟ a heizou x reader smau
⭑.ᐟ warning : might have ooc portrayals, lots of swearing, kys jokes, fem!reader, timestamps don't matter, somewhat innacurate descriptions of uni life, mentions of ittosara, kukifei, (🎞️) means its a written part!
all these girls in the club, i got my eyes on you 🗯️
synopsis kinich has never really cared for anyone or anything except for himself (and his dobermann ajaw). so, imagine his surprise when he comes home to his apartment building at 3 am, exhausted from a party, and finds that he's not the only one absolutely beat. he finds you battered and bruised laying "dead" on the ground in front of his door. what the actual fuck? after being passed out cold through the entirety of night, you find yourself in a random's apartment in the soft light of morning.
genre partyboy!kinich x boxer!yn, university + modern setting, strangers to lovers, next-door neighbours to lovers, mutual pining, lots of fluff, this one's rlly funny trust
status on-going
note contains (a lot) of cursing, alcohol, smoking, fist fighting (boxing) and maybe mentions and/or imagery of blood, female reader, probably will not be any angst (im too lazy) but i might switch up, timestamps make sense heh, mentions of slightly suggestive content! prob ooc idk i havent done the aq, likes & reblogs are appreciated beyond words
profiles alphamary | htztln ride or dies
note chapters marked with [🚞] have narration
01. boxing session
02. first party
03. morning after [🚞]
04. worries festered
05. lunch
06. hesitance
07. yn's fight
08. celebratory dinner
09. interrogation
10.
12.
13.
taglist is open. please send an ask or comment if you wish to be added!
academic victim weapon with a constant need of yapping, y/n made a podcast and chose that double major to prove to everyone that she's capable of doing whatever she wants.
on the other hand, kageyama tobio knows that he's not capable of anything except volleyball.
under pressure, a story that dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.
☆ genre & tags : smau/writing kageyama x f!reader, grumpy x sunshine, he fell first and harder, idk, she's kinda grumpy too, he's pathetic and we love him for that, college au , slooooooooow burn
☆ status : ongoing
☆ introductions : big 4 - smart people + tobio
☆ profiles : yn's style & yn's moodboard
☆ tobioyn
prologue
ep 1 : no ? me too
ep2 : so they hate you for that
ep 3 : self-own of the century
ep 4 : public L
ep 5 : tell me three things you see
ep 6 : never been weird
ep 7 : do NOT say that
ep 8 : watching the plot unfold
ep 9 : kinda for u
ep 10 : go get that bag boi
ep 11 : tragic main character
ep 12 : friendly, uh
ep 13 : TWICE
> ep 14 : who the fuck is gojo satoru ?
ep 15 :
ep 16 :
ep 17 :
[ 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 🥰
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.”
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."
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!! 😭😭
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.
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.
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.
[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.
“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!!!
