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#major tw listed
rwyvernarts · 6 months
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prompt: bitten | cornered
There’s this one cat that’s very defensive about these nearby ruins.
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yardsards · 2 months
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living in america is literally just like. yeah i could probably benefit from inpatient mental health services but honestly the resulting medical bills would just make me want to kill myself even more
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i hate it. i hate it so much. and i hate that it calls to me so strongly and that i can't or won't resist it. i don't know how to live a normal life. i probably will never know.
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byakuyasdarling · 5 months
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can’t deal with the fact people glorify anxiety,,, like yes the disorder that literally keeps me from normal functioning and is detrimental to my physical and mental health is so cutesy and so easy to live with and I can totally sleep at night and I don’t get massively painful ulcer flare-ups when I’m stressed (it is literally debilitating) panic attacks are quirky! /s
I don’t have repetitive thought cycles that make me constantly worry and exhaust me throughout the day from a whole other disorder that’s exasperated by my anxiety! It’s so pleasant in both of these ways! I love when people think me flapping my hands is so cutesy when it’s totally not a sign of distress for the most part /SARCASM
I have no clue why anyone would want to fake something I am so desperate to get rid of. Like this is not fun — especially when so many people close to me in my life atm have this strong image of me that I hate living up to.
Though I will say that most likely, even people who fake disorders do have something bad going on and is symptomatic of broader issues (there’s literally a term for this, I forgot) — so I’m not going to go haywire at confused and hurting children. Though their actions are ignorant and can romanticise what living with these things is actually like and diminish other people’s struggles — I’m fairly sure they’re too young and confused to properly process that and I doubt it’s malicious the majority of the time. You’re just going to further push them into boxes by harassing them.
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weedplantar · 1 year
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oh my gosh, the fact that sasha had to study freud to be a child therapist...
I like to think that she got drunk as hell just to read through his chapters and would regularly call anyone who would listen while studying just to angry rant about him....
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the-faultofdaedalus · 2 years
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see it’s good to play the remortal au playlist for a full two hour drive bc it gets the old brain chugging but also it’s bad because it gives me just, so much brainrot
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thebumblingbee · 2 years
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..
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~ books read in 2023 ~
#10: Now a Major Motion Picture by Cory McCarthy
The guy was probably a painter. Possibly a drummer.
Rating: 4/5
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yanderenightmare · 5 months
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Bakugou Katsuki
TW: yandere, kidnapping
fem reader
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Just had another thought about bully!Bakugou and quirkless childhood friend!darling...
You fall off the grid after high school only to reveal yourself several years later, right in the thick of his career.
He’s been recruited to go on an undercover mission to uncover a major drug scheme. He and a female operative are to play newlyweds, living together in a pretty suburban picket fence house where you'll be conducting surveillance on the neighboring family.
When you walk into the brief, you don’t give any sign of having recognized him. Nor him you, even though his chest and throat tightened to the point he had to stifle a cough.
When you sit down, you’re calm and collected while letting slip a smooth, breathless scoff – giving a slight smirk, saying calmly, “You jokers chose this landmine for a covert mission?”
“You two know each other?”
Your eyes slide off to look at Bakugou, eyeing him up and down where he sits – trying his best to hide it, but your trained eyes see it clear as day – rigid, short-breathed, a little sweaty. He’s shocked, he’s nervous, he’s even a little embarrassed.
You smile. And despite the history, all you offer in answer is a curt, “We used to.”
Bakugou feels like you have him by the balls. His jaw doesn’t unlock during the entirety of the meeting, reading the list of your responsibilities while they’re explained. How the entire neighborhood might be both bugged and surveyed by the target, so you’ll have to perform as a real married couple every waking hour – including eating together, sleeping together, kissing each other, fucking each other so as not to raise any suspicion.
You don’t budge or show any tells. You’ve been trained for this, and you’ve done this type of work plenty of times before already. Bakugou had read your file, so he knew – but shit, how weren’t you uncomfortable?
The mission lasts three long months and seventeen days. And when it’s done, you fall right off the grid again as though none of it had meant a thing.
And he knows that that’s how it’s supposed to be. He knows none of it is supposed to be real, but how can it not have been? It can't have all been a performance. He rejects that. He refuses it. He knows for certain you couldn’t have been acting all that time. You couldn’t because he hadn’t.
He’s breaking so many rules, tracking you down. And your disgust of his unprofessionalism is written all over your face when you open the door to find him having been the one to ring your doorbell. Still, you save saying anything but gesture for him to come inside.
“You weren’t easy to find-”
“This is gross misconduct, Bakugou. I can have you reported.” You cut him off. He’s not heard that voice come out of you. When you were his wife, you’d only speak sweetly – lovingly and dotingly, often with your arms slung around him, your hands in the short stubble at the back of his neck, smiling up at him so prettily.
You were scowling now.
“Are you?” He asks.
You stare at him for a moment, but then you give in with a sigh – trodding off to what he guesses is the kitchen without an answer to his question. But the silence is an answer in and of itself.
You dress differently than you did. No frilly little dress. But sweatpants and a tank – no jewelry, no makeup, hair undone.
You open the fridge and hand him a beer, then you crack one open yourself. “I have something stronger if you need it.” You say then, but he waves a no. So you lean against the counter and bring your can up to your lips. “Why are you here?”
He watches you drink for a moment. When you were his wife, you didn’t like beer, you only drank white wine, and it always made you tipsy after a couple of sips. You would never even finish a glass before becoming slow and dull-eyed. Suppose he’d never actually seen you drunk at all…
He doesn’t open his beer, feeling the cold dew drip over his knuckles. “Do you miss it?” He asks.
You look him in the eyes with slanted ones of your own. “I’m not humoring that question. If you’re having issues, you should file for a shrink. The bureau offers the best, they’ll suck out all the shit from your mind, and you’ll go back to normal within a week or two.”
“I don’t wanna go back to normal.”
You look annoyed, but then your face softens. “It’s like that the first time. It’ll pass.”
He doesn’t believe you. In your file, it said that you’d done this seven times before. Sometimes much longer than the months you’d spent together.
“It was a job, now it’s over. You need to shut the door on it and move on with your life.”
You say that, but looking around your space, it seems your job doesn’t allow much of life to take place. You have a couch and a TV, but otherwise, everything is barren. No pictures on the walls, no decorations. Where a dining table should stand, you have workout equipment instead, sprawled out over the entire floor. And if he saw your fridge correctly, you only have beer and TV dinners.
“You always on the job?” He asks.
You place your finished beer upside down in the sink, letting the last drops dry off while muttering out a retort, “Aren’t you?”
He doesn’t hear it, though. Too busy looking at you, standing there against the sink – looking the way you did when you’d wash dishes after dinner. You’re not wearing a summer dress or an apron – but you stand the same way. Slightly bent over, hips pushed into the countertop, ass pushed out like a welcome. 
He sets his beer off on the counter and takes his spot behind you, sliding his bigger hands around your small waist, slotting himself against you with his crotch nudged nicely against your butt. It feels right.
You make a small sound, going a little rigid at the unsuspected attack – but weren’t brash enough to push him away. You were rational enough to accept you wouldn’t be able to if you tried. 
“You sure you don’t miss it?” He asks again in a murmur, brushing his lips up your artery – nuzzling against you – his heavy chest resting against your shoulder blades – and you could feel the equally heavy pounding of his heart.
“Listen, Bakugou… whatever you think you miss, it doesn’t exist.” You state flatly. “Dominic and Suzie aren’t real.”
Those had been your names. Dominic and Suzie, Mr. and Mrs. Brooks. Your identities for three months. But now, no more.
“But they can be…” Bakugou whispered back, tugging you a little closer – then released a small breathless laugh. “We always used to say we’d get married one day, remember? When we were brats…”
A small smile creased a dimple on your cheek at the memory, but only for a small second before you remembered everything he’d put you through after. “We’re not brats anymore. And honestly-” You catch your tongue and never finish the thought. It’s so long ago it doesn’t matter.
You sigh, knowing you’re lying to yourself. 
You relax again and drop your head back to rest on his shoulder, overlapping his hands with yours. “In retrospect, we should have filed for replacement from the start.”
“Why didn’t you?”
You pause a little bit, weighing whether you want to tell him or not. “I felt I had something to prove.” You confess. “You’ve always made me feel worthless, so when I was presented with the opportunity to rub it in your face, the child in me couldn’t resist.” 
You thought it would feel like a victory, a sweet revenge, but in the end, it just made you disappointed in yourself. How could you think playing house with a person you hate would do you any justice?
“It was stupid, and I regret it. I’m better than that.” You add resolutely. “Nevertheless, mission complete. It’s behind us now.”
Bakugou didn’t agree, still holding you the same way he’d done. 
 “You should let go of me.” You sigh again. “I’m not gonna act like Suzie for you, so-”
“I don’t want you to act like Suzie.” He interjected, nuzzling against your neck with a whisper. “I want you... the real you.”
You scoff. “Fuck- Katsuki, look around you. There’s nothing here to want.”
“Let’s make something then.” He argues, pressing a soft kiss below your ear. “It was always supposed to be us two. From the start.”
“What are you talking about?” You won't deny the contact feels good. Good enough to make your voice come out in a moan.
“I’m talking about me and you, anywhere we choose.” He continues with his kisses, and you close your eyes to the feeling but still scoff at the offer. 
“You’re talking about a dream. I’m not leaving my job to chase some fantasy with you.”
There's a silence, and Bakugou’s voice comes out more serious after. “I’m not giving you a choice.”
Your brows furrow, and you open your eyes again.
He still kisses your neck, now with his hands rubbing firm circles in your sides.  
“You were very hard to find…” He mutters. “I doubt anyone would notice if you went missing…”
“Katsuki-” You protest, still calm as you try and push yourself from the counter, but it’s an aimless effort. His touches only grow stronger to keep you in place.
“The bureau would think you’d decided to go private or retire. And given your record, I don’t think they’d spend too many resources trying to find you.”
“Katsuki, let go-” It’s scary, but you’ve been in scarier situations, so you’re able to keep your cool still – despite the chills that run up your spine from his speech. “You’re talking crazy-”
“Living like this is what’s crazy.” He answers.
His apartment looks the same. Nothing personal anywhere except a vain mantle lined with diplomas and trophies he’d received for civic duties when he’d laid his life on the line. Otherwise, it was as stale as a cheap hotel room – no art, no pictures, no carpets, not even a lamp. Just the necessities. Kitchen articles and a bed.
“I need you. And by the looks of things, you need me too.”
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yandere-daydreams · 6 months
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Title: Gorefest.
Pairing: Yandere!Gojo x Reader (Jujutsu Kaisen).
Word Count: 1.3k.
TW: Gore, Blood, Major Character Death (Reader Is Fine), Implied Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Touching, Prolonged Stalking, and Delusional Behavior.
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You found his latest gift on your doorstep.
It was a heart, this time – deflated but otherwise fully intact, blue viens still visible against pink flesh. A small puddle of blood and other gelatinous viscera surrounded it, but you ignored that in favor of wrapping the disembodied organ in your cardigan and unlocking the door to your apartment, too exhausted to fumble with your keys and too worn down to pretend you still thought you could get away from him on your own. His present was dropped into the ever-bubbling vat of crimson slurry you used to boil down his gifts until they’d been reduced to a less incriminating state, your shoes kicked off and left by the door. You didn’t bother turning on any lights. You were home, but you didn’t want to let yourself acknowledge that until he was gone.
You found Gojo in his usual spot; on the floor of your bedroom, his hands still stained red and one of your threadbare sleepshirts crumpled at his side, the dark material stained with something white and awful. That made two articles of clothing ruined, tonight. A few months ago, when the most he ever brought you was a half-beaten bouquet of roses and a list of questions for the strange man whose favorite place in the world seemed to be your living room, you would’ve been tempted to demand that he pay for the damages. You’d learned better than to imply you wanted anything from him, since then.
He was lying on his side, toying with something large and vaguely circular, his grin that of a cat dropping a slaughtered mouse at its owner’s feet. He was surrounded by more of his ‘presents’ – the disembodied organs of whatever poor criminal or curse user he’d taken it upon himself to dissect. You were glad you’d kept the lights off. You could see the outline of small intestine strung along the walls, assorted gore left in carefully considered piles wherever Gojo deemed it necessary. It’d take hours to clean up, after he left. Demanding that he help would only give him the impression that you wanted to spend time with him, and you weren’t going to make that mistake twice.
You moved to speak, but as always, he just had to be the center of attention. It was like he couldn’t imagine a world where you might’ve done anything but focus on him. “Welcome home,” he half-sung, pushing himself up and pulling his oblong, mishappen keepsake into his lap. “Do you want to start with dinner, or should I run you a hot bath? Or, if you want, you could always have a little of me—”
“Shut the fuck up.” And then, pointing in the general direction of your front door, “Get out.”
“So cold, babe. And after I went through all that trouble to set this up.” The coppery stench was starting to get to you. You could only pray the neighbors wouldn’t notice, or that you’d be able to think of a feasible enough excuse by the time they did. “I got hurt for you, too.” He held up a hand, gesturing towards the faintest, shallowest cut on his cheek. “Aren’t you going to dote on me? You know, like you used to – after you found me in that alley and bandaged my wounds. What was the first thing you said to me? That I was too pretty to bleed to death alone?”
You didn’t encourage him with a response, only crossing your arms over your chest and deepening your scowl. “Get out,” you repeated. “I don’t want you here.”
His grin only broadened. “If you keep saying things like that, I might start to think you’re trying to get me to leave.” Exasperation bled into your agitated expression, and Gojo let out a bark of a laugh. “Look, I know you like to play shy, but I’d really like it if we could use tonight for us. We could watch a movie, or—”
You let out a frustrated groan, dragging your hands over your face. “You know what? Fine. If you want to be here so badly, then stay.” You shut your eyes, standing a little taller. “I’m getting out of here.”
“Running off to spend the night with another man? Ah, what a cold-hearted temptress I’ve fallen for.”
“Oh, I’m going to do more than just spend the night with him.” You really should’ve shut your mouth. You should’ve bitten your tongue, swallowed your pride, refused to tell him anything save for the fact that you weren’t going to stay here any longer. But, the blood in the air was getting to you and you could still feel the cold flesh of the heart against your palm and you needed to get away, and you needed Gojo to know you were never coming back. “I met someone – a sorcerer. He knows you’ve been stalking me, and he offered to help.” You flashed him a grin, almost as awful as his own. “His name is Nanami, and he’s strong enough to keep me safe from people like you.”
You waited for him to laugh, to say he didn’t believe you, or better yet, to get angry, to feel a fraction of the dread and the rage he’d forced onto you. When he didn’t say anything, didn’t scream or yell or gloat, you opened your eyes. He was still staring, but his smile was softer, his eyes half-lidded in a way that could only mean something bad. “Oh, baby,” he started, his voice dripping with faux sympathy. “Whose heart do you think I went through so much trouble to bring you?”
A pebble threatening to slip off of its cliffside; two ends of a torn wire, a hair’s width away from connecting. Whatever he was trying to tell you, you just couldn’t seem to process it. “What?”
“Right. I’m sorry, sweetheart – that’s on me,” Gojo chuckled. “You were always more of a visual learner.”
The object in his lap was taken up and rolled towards you, coming to a teetering stop at your feet, where the residual light from the hall could illuminate it properly. In a daze, you dropped your gaze to it, allowed yourself to recognize blonde hair, razor-sharp cheekbones, and glassy brown eyes staring lifelessly back at you. There was a dark bruise on his jawline, paled by blood loss, and the mangled stump that used to be his neck was encircled by ragged flesh, as if it’d been torn from his shoulders. Despite everything, his mouth was closed, lips still pressed into a thin frown. As if he didn’t have time to so much as scream before Gojo got to him.
You must’ve passed out. One second, you were staring down at the disembodied head of your savior, and the next, you were on the floor, lying limp and breathless as Nanami’s blood formed a puddle underneath you. Gojo was already at your side, hauling you up and against his chest. You felt his arms around you, then plush of your mattress against your back. You were aware, distantly, that he was straddling you, that his mouth was pressing into the dip of your shoulder, then the curve of your throat. “It’s alright,” he muttered, his voice partially muttered by his closeness. “Why don’t you come stay with me for a while, after this? I’ve got a room ready for you back at my place and everything.”
He didn’t wait for an answer. Straightening his back, he let his lips crash into yours – his kiss lingering and deep and filthy. By the time he pulled away, he’d drunk the air from your lungs and frozen the blood in your veins, leaving you as empty and as lifeless as one of his gifts.
You thought, idly, of the heart being reduced to viscera in your kitchen, and wondered if you should’ve held onto it for just a few minutes longer.
“I’ll be able to spoil you properly, once I’ve got you where you’re supposed to be.”
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vivalabunbun · 1 year
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On the complexities of relationships and words
Summary: For two people that love to read, words seem like a complex. 
Word Count: 13k (yeah... this is slow burn, might want to get a drink and snack)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Slow Burn, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Fluff, Angst kind heavy?, Modern AU, Omegaverse AU, A/B/O relationships, slow fic, marriage, arranged pairing, dubcon, themes about not liking yourself, TW: gender dysphoria (you don’t like your secondary gender), TW: Very vague and brief mentions to possible past domestic trauma, Jealous!alhaitham, slight yandere!alhaitham, mutual pining, miscommunication, breeding, biting, ruts, Alpha!alhaitham, Beta!reader. You agreed to the pairing due to tax benefits. A lot of references to literature. 
Authors note: This is my first attempt at slow burn and yeah... I got carried away. I want to explore how slow alhaitham would open up and how love can come from the mind instead of the heart. Enjoy.
Side Note: here is a little dabble 
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Love, an emotion that sets the heart on fire. An all-consuming emotion that feels as if one was falling off a cliff while also being embraced tight by the treads of fate. The emotion that’s only separated by a thin line from madness. Or at least, that is how it’s been described to you through books and movies. 
With love being the inspiration for so many poets, artists, and heroes throughout all of history, it comes as no surprise that you found yourself curious about it. It started out innocently, you would listen to the latest romantic ballads from the wandering travelers along the streets of Sumeru. In the nation of wisdom, books were plentiful yet you found your teenage self buying certain novels from Inazuma. Then came the films from Fontaine which you’d spend a week’s worth of pocket money on. 
What first began from your childish curiosity became a hidden infatuation. You wanted to feel those emotions described in those songs, books, and movies. So you began your journey to seek it out. Your first relationship filled you with a certain rush, an excitement to finally experience a scene from those novels you loved… but you were only left with disappointment. 
Kisses felt bland, holding hands felt awkward after too long, and eye contact uncomfortable. There were no lingering thoughts that kept you up at night, no pink haze of pinning, nor a spark that set your chest ablaze. The breakup didn’t come as a surprise, and even so, it didn’t leave you with those gut-wrenching heartbroken sobs into the pillow as you’ve seen in the movies. Just disappointment. 
Perhaps it's because you were basing your expectations on relationships you can never experience. Those songs, those books, those movies? They were all about the bond felt between Alphas and Omegas. 
The maddening ruts and needy heat that left your cheeks flushed when you read about them. The touching gestures of scenting, the descriptions of the additive aroma of their beloved, their fated mate. The marking that proclaimed to the world their undying love. You’ll never experience that… since you’ve presented as a Beta. 
The worker ants of society, the largest class sandwiched between Alphas and Omegas, the extras in their movies. The category of society that can neither produce nor reciprocate pheromones, the population that lived in mediocrity in the eyes of romantics. 
Of course, love was possible for Betas, after all in a population that makes up the majority, there will always be the few that find ‘true love’. But that’s an advanced scholarly topic up for debate, with the societal consensus being that it’s the lowest tier of love. All pairings with Betas belonged in this tier. 
Alpha-Alpha, Omega-Omega, and at the very top of the tier list of ‘true love’ was the Alpha-Omega pairing. After all, love scientifically is created by chemical bonds in the brain with oxytocin, the love hormone. Pheromones kicked the production of oxytocin into overdrive, creating an addiction that makes a person long for their lovers every hour of the day. The chemicals that create the fire of romance you once wished upon shooting stars for. 
Thankfully with time, as you matured into an adult you resigned yourself to your fate. You found solstice in your one advantage as a Beta over any Alpha or Omega: True independence. Free from the chains that are primal desires brought on by pheromones, your head was clear, decisions not dependent on the fever that was love. 
You had given up on searching for love, hey, if you set the bar on the ground then there was less risk of being let down. So that’s why you agreed to your parents’ suggestion of an arranged pairing. To be matched to a life partner by a matchmaker.
--
“Eh? Isn’t that practice kinda outdated?” Dehya questioned. 
“Don’t the city folk use the akasha system, using genetics for compatibility or something?” Your Alpha friend carefully tucked away her compact mirror. 
“Actually, I think that’s really romantic! The traditional way matches you by personality and lifestyle compatibility.” Nilou grasped your hands, wishing you luck. 
“I agree, old fashioned doesn’t mean it's ineffective. It’s still very much practiced in Aaru Village.” Candace sent a slight side-eye to your other Alpha friend across the table. 
--
Perhaps your Alpha and Omega friends were trying to cheer you on, but frankly, they didn’t need to. The next day when you met with the older woman, you went through the process with a sense of boredom. When answering the matchmaker's question, you stated you just wanted a life partner that was honest, loyal, and respected your individuality. 
Next, the matchmaker asked about your interests, you recalled all the literature you used to consume during your obsession with love, and embarrassed by your fruitless past endeavors you answered books.  
“What kind of life do you seek, my dear?” Her wrinkly hands intertwined as she leaned on the table. 
“A peaceful, quiet life.” 
And that was it. She wrote down your responses with a bejeweled quill pen, handwriting beautiful and neat as if she were penning down a poem for you. You were free to go home. Walking down the streets of Sumeru, the dusk birds singing to their lovers, you didn’t even wonder about the Beta she was going to pair you with. You had a full day of work tomorrow, what you really wanted was a full night's rest. 
--
So a month later, you couldn’t hide the bewilderment on your face as you stood in front of a tall Alpha, the partner the matchmaker had deemed a good fit. From his piercing teal orange eyes to his sliver hair to his towering physique, everything about him was the picture-perfect definition of an Alpha. 
‘Alhaitham’ was his name, and you must admit it fit him quite well. His face remained unchanged even after his mesmerizing eyes passed over your form quickly. You couldn’t read the lack of expression on his face, was it disinterest? Indifference? Boredom? 
A part of you wanted to take your parents to the side and whisper in their ears that the matchmaker was a quack. Who in their right mind matches an Alpha with a Beta? Before you could do so, the matchmaker lead your parents out of the room, giving the two of you some privacy to get acclimated. A heavy silence hung in the air as your bodies stood a respectable distance apart, deciding to break the silence you first stated the obvious. 
“I’m not an Omega.” 
“I’m aware.” His deep voice sent a small shiver down your spine. Even his voice was beautiful. 
“I don’t have any pheromone, meaning I can’t bond.” You glanced up at him. 
“I never listed it as a requirement.” 
His answers only seemed to confuse you further, perhaps he didn’t think this through all the way. Sure, the matchmaker revealed that both of you wanted peaceful lives, liked books, and believed firmly in one’s individuality. But there was a massive sumpter beast in the room as the saying goes. 
“Aren’t you worried about… that time of the year…”  
For the first time, his eyes met yours, you quickly shifted your eyes away. 
“Are you referring to ruts? Medicine has advanced quite a bit, there are now inhibitors that can regulate pheromones and ruts. Not that you would know, of course.” He huffed out. 
You couldn’t stop your eyebrow from twitching in annoyance. Ah, he’s also got that Alpha ego. You were still confused, from the look on your face he quickly deduced it as well. 
“I dislike disruptions to my life. Primal desires are just disruptions. To put it bluntly, you as a Beta don’t release pheromones nor go into bouts of unsuppressed lust. Significantly reducing the risk of interrupting my time. You value individuality and are very independent, you’re very unlikely to bother me with trivial matters. All these factors add up to a peaceful, quiet life. Simple isn’t it?” 
When he laid out all the reasons so clearly on the table, it’s hard to not note the truth, Alhaitham is a weird Alpha. Perhaps that’s why his grandmother enlisted the help of a matchmaker in her will. 
After that day, you took home a folder full of documentation on him. Under the golden light of your desk lamp, you sorted through the information in front of you. He had no criminal record, he owns his own house close to the city, and he held a stable job with a very attractive salary. 
You ponder the decision for about a week, weighing the pros and cons. Marriages in Sumeru are often encouraged with sizable tax deductions, more money in your own pocket. Employees with spouses have an easier time requesting paid time off, more money in your pocket and less work. He lacked any familial attachments, meaning no in-laws to deal with. One extra point for being very easy on the eyes too. 
You ultimately signed your name on the marriage documents at the city hall, right next to his emulate penmanship. Right there under the fluorescent lights of the government office, the two of you recited your vows. The only other people in the room were your parents and the clerk filing the paperwork.
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Within the next few months, you’ve carried the boxes filled with your belongings from your cramped apartment into his spacious house. Your old light novels and romantic collection of poems are now placed on a bookshelf adjacent to his. Bright and artistic covers contrasting against bland academic journals. Of course, there was no honeymoon, no break from your regular work schedules. There was no reason to. 
--
In the first year of your marriage, you viewed him with suspicious eyes. You valued loyalty in a life partner and even though he stated he dislike pheromones and primal urges, he was still an Alpha with such natural responses. Yet, you observed that he came home every day at 5:30 pm on the dot, not a single hair out of place nor a single crease on the collar of his button-downs. 
You found him to be a decent housemate, calm, quiet, and respectful of your space. Chores were divided equally between the two of you, making the shared living space organized and dust free. Of course, he was only human thus he also had some flaws. 
Sometimes your foot would knock against a stack of books he had left on the floor near the numerous bookshelves throughout the house. Or how you noticed your shampoo and conditioner bottles emptying at an alarming rate, does he not know how expensive haircare is? 
Alhaitham deemed you a good fit for a life partner. You weren’t disruptive nor dependent on him in any aspect. You spent your own money responsibly, a diligent person who followed a set work routine without needing any reminders. 
You would alternate responsibilities for dinner, but he found your food more flavorful. You threw together ingredients with no regard for measurements, only going off what felt right, compared to his style of calculating the precise amount a ‘pinch’ was. 
Of course, it’s expected that you’ve got some quirks that made him tsk internally. It was small insignificant things. Like how sometimes he would find strands of your hair left in the shower drain. Or how you often tuck his books back into the nearest shelf, not caring about if the genres matched or not. 
“I commend your artistry. However, a mural made from your hair on the shower wall is unnecessary.” 
“You’ve got shorter hair than me, how are you using double the product?”        
“It’s all due to your perception, I’m not using any more product than you.”
“Oh?~ Then I guess the hair on the wall is all just your perception too.”
When living with another person there will always be bumps that needed to be smoothed out. But overall, life was peaceful and quiet just how the two of you liked it. 
--
Alhaitham was Alhaitham, and you were you. Two independent individuals only connected by paper and law. Perhaps the only couple-like aspect of your relationship was sharing the same bed. Of course, this was done only out of necessity. 
The only other room in the house with a bed was the guest room, even so, there was still an imbalance. The mattress was much smaller and firm when compared to the grand bed in the master bedroom. 
He didn’t snore and neither did you, you didn’t toss and turn in your sleep and neither did he. With two separate blankets, he deemed that sharing a bed with you wouldn’t cause any disturbance to his sleep. You two had more than enough money to afford another bed, but just the thought of rearranging the furniture to accommodate it was too bothersome for the both of you. There was more than enough room on the bed for two bodies to sleep without ever touching. 
No loud passionate fights nor lingering glances and maddening touches. Just the calm lull of normalcy. But you were satisfied. 
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By your second year with him, you’ve gotten acquainted with the nuances in his manner of speech. In particular, his sarcastic quips that you’d return with vivacity. 
“Mmm, I appreciate the attempt. But I’d rather my books be sorted by subject rather than by instinct.” 
“There’s faster ways to collect my life insurance than by getting me to trip over a book, Haitham.” 
During this year, the two of you also began to use more familiar terms to address each other. Instead of your name, he’d simply call you wife, and you shortened his name. Husband and ‘Haitham’ had the same amount of letters anyways. 
When the date of your courthouse wedding came around, nothing happened. 
No flowers, no shiny gifts of jewels, not even a sweet dessert. After all, he found it silly to spend so much effort on a singular day instead of placing that enthusiasm into every regular day of life.
Birthdays shared the same sentiment, you’d be invited out by your group of friends to a celebration planned by Nilou, while Alhaitham would stay at home with his books. 
--
“Happy birthday.” You placed a cup of freshly brewed coffee down in front of him. 
“Thank you.” Besides your statement, there was nothing out of the ordinary. 
“Hopefully I’m one year closer to collecting your pension.” 
  Alhaitham has to admit he does enjoy your sardonic humor, but you’d never be able to tell just by looking at him. He took a sip of his coffee, by year two you finally learned how not to scald the coffee grounds when doing a pour-over.
Life continued on, and the two of you were still like parallel lines traveling in the same direction side by side and separately. 
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It’s now the third year of your marriage. You were currently busy in the kitchen, Alhaitham had just informed you earlier there’d be guests coming over tonight. Fortunately, it’s a Friday which meant you had a half day at work. Quickly purchasing ingredients from street vendors on your way back. 
He never had any guests over before, so you assumed that these guests must be important people from work. 
You even made sure not to use spices that were too fragrant, just in case any of the guests were extremely sensitive to smells, as Alhaitham had informed you they were all Alphas. Tachin was a rather simple but delicious dish to make. You also picked fresh ingredients that would make a very quick and satisfying salad. 
Your husband didn’t particularly like soup, but he doesn’t have the right to be picky when you’re the one rushing to cook enough food for five people, so minty bean soup will be on the table. He had a collection of wines in a separate room, you’ll leave the wine selection up to him. 
Just as you finished setting the plates and dishes on the table the chime of the doorbell went off. Wiping off your hands and taking off your apron, doing a quick once-over in the hallway mirror before answering the door. 
“O-oh… You’re a… Beta…” 
The blond Alpha in front of you had a look of bewilderment across his handsome features. Rudy eyes peering down at you in astonishment as you maintained a polite face. 
“Oof-” 
An elbow was jabbed into the blond’s side as a shorter dark-haired man signaled for him to shut up. 
“Thank you for having us over for dinner.” His friendly face gave you a smile. 
“Welcome.” You invited all the men in. 
  The bewildered blond at the door’s name was Kaveh, the dark-haired man was Tighnari, and the white-haired man with the intense gaze was Cyno. 
You familiarized yourself with their names, and from time to time you felt their eyes passing glances over at you as they made small talk. Alhaitham was currently picking out a few bottles of wine. 
“So, you’re actually his wife… Ah! Of course, it’s no fault of yours. I’m just shocked he’s actually married, I thought he was bluffing when he said he had a wife. There were no signs… Ugh! Great, I owe drinks now.” Kaveh sighed, face in his hands. 
“Alhaitham doesn’t want others knowing too much about him. But the proof is right in front of our eyes.” Cyno leaned his elbows on the table. 
Ah, it makes sense that people at his work wouldn’t know about you. There weren’t even rings to distinguish the relationship. Usually, relationships nowadays were sensed through the presence of pheromones on the bodies of lovers. However, you were a Beta with no pheromones to cling onto his person. There’s not the slightest chance he ever talked about you. The two of you were also never seen in public together, so in the eyes of many Alhaitham is still a bachelor. There was a slight churn in your stomach, was the soup upsetting it?
“Gossiping about me while sitting in my house and right in front of my wife?” 
Alhaitham’s deep voice mysteriously made the knot in your stomach go away, or maybe it was the way he referred to you, ‘my wife’. He placed the bottles of wine and glasses on the table. 
“It’s nothing major. We’re just surprised someone is willing enough to stand your arrogance.” Kaveh crossed his arms. 
“Unwed people should not have any comments on other’s relationships.” 
“Hey! Why you-”
“Huh…” You pondered out loud. 
The attention of the men in the room was all on you now. 
“Oh, pardon my interruption. I guess I’m just in awe that my husband has friends.” 
In an instant laughter ripped through the air. 
“Bwahahaha! Alhaitham, I like your wife already! Ahahaha!” Kaveh was laughing so hard tears were forming in his eyes. 
Tighnari had one hand gripping the table and the other covering his mouth as he tried desperately to suppress his snickers, ultimately unsuccessfully.  
“Well, I’m not sure if friends is the ‘correct’ term.” Cyno’s voice was steady, but you could see the small shakes of his shoulders. 
“I’m beginning to wonder if inviting guests to the house was the right decision.” 
--
Still, the dinner continued and the drinks started to pour. After your statement from earlier, the atmosphere at the table became more lighthearted aided by the help of alcohol. 
“So, what’s the occasion?” You asked as you took a sip out of your glass. 
“Huh? Alhaitham! How did you not tell your wife about your promotion?” Kaveh nearly spat out his wine. 
 “There’s no reason to dampen her mood with bad tidings.” 
“Bad?!-” You wondered if the blond’s voice could shatter the glass in your hands. 
“Keeping your cards close to your chest, even from your wife.” Cyno side-eyed your husband. 
“Not at all. Not that the unwed head lawyer would need to know.” 
“Tsk.” The tan Alpha crossed his arms. 
“Now, now just because he didn’t tell his wife doesn’t mean Alhaitham’s a bad husband.” Tighnari tried to dispel the tension while also landing a subtle jab. 
“Mmm, congratulations, Haitham.” You swirled your wine. 
“Thank you.” Your husband replied. 
The three Alphas looked at each other, eyes sending silent messages. They must find your marriage to the ashen-hair Alpha strange. Alpha-Beta pairings were already against convention, but it seems like the two of you matched each other's pace. Two weird people found each other. 
--
After dinner was finished and you bid goodbye to the guests at the front door. 
“Be grateful you stone-faced brat… Your wife’s got... too good to be stuck with your stale…” 
The two shorter men carrying the blabbering blond off your front steps. 
“He’s quite the lightweight.” You briefly mentioned while over the sink.
 “I’m just grateful there’s still wine left. Go rest, I’ll get the dishes.” His larger frame takes up the space at the sink, silently encouraging you to move away. 
So you left clean-up duty to him, a fair trade for making you cook a feast so out of the blue. As you stood under the warm water pouring over your body in the shower, your mind began to replay the conversations over dinner. They made you realize just how little you actually knew about your own husband despite living under the same roof for three going on four years now. 
Once he stepped foot outside of your shared space he was practically a stranger. What was his job like? Who were his friends? What were his favorite places? Hell, even in your house, he was still a stranger. What books is he reading now? When does he find time to work out? What does he do when you leave the house? This realization made you shiver, as you turned the knob to increase the temperature of the water.
 It wouldn’t hurt to try and get to know him a little better. 
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One Sunday morning, you walked into the living room greeted by the sight of him reading one of your old light novels. Seeing his large hand hold the bright book, decorated with a pair of lovers embracing, while his eyes studied the text like his academic papers was almost comical… If only you didn’t wish to sink through the floor in humiliation. He must’ve lost interest in his own books, or maybe he’d gone through his whole collection. 
Either way, to prevent such an occurrence from happening again, you began to pick up some books for your husband on your way home. 
‘Metaphysics’, ‘Epistemology’, ‘Quantum Mechanics’: those seemed like topics that’d interest him, you reasoned as you stood in line to purchase them. Your eyes caught sight of a certain book, ‘le rouge et le noir’, on a whim you decided to add it to the stack of heavy books. Not for your husband, but rather for yourself. 
That night you handed the books over to him as he was about to go to his favorite reading spot on the couch. 
“What’s this for?” He stared at the stack of thick books in your hands. 
“Just passed by a bookstore and figured you might need something new to read.” You gestured for him to take them. 
“You didn’t have to go out of your way to gift this to me. Thank you, I shall read them.” His low voice indifferent as always, finally taking the weight out of your hands. 
You proceeded to move over to the smaller sofa in the living room and plopped down. Pulling out the book you had purchased earlier, you glanced up at him eyes questioning why he was staring. Alhaitham cracked open one of the academic journals you gifted him and averted his teal gaze. 
This was a break from your normal routine, but you felt like it’d be a nice change to get back into reading. It also gives you the opportunity to learn more about Alhaitham by spending more time in his presence. But more importantly, it would allow you to keep an eye on your husband to ensure he doesn’t go snooping through your bookshelf again. Maybe you should just donate them, but no library in Sumeru would ever accept them.
Soon that break from routine became the norm. Every night after the kitchen table was cleared, dishes cleaned, and bodies freshly towel dried you and Alhaitham will sit adjacent to each other enjoying quiet reading time. The soft light from the tall floor lamps and soft flicks of turning pages adding to the ambiance of the room. 
From time to time, you can hear the sound of him writing some sentences down on a notepad. So he likes to take notes on the books he reads. You learned something new. 
Another new fact you gained from your observations of your husband was that he reads fast, really fast. He had already finished all three books before you were even halfway done with yours. You had to act fast lest his teal eyes begin to wander towards your bookshelf again. So, you found yourself back at the bookstore once more. Picking up any thick academic journals on topics ranging from ancient ruins to the newest peer-reviewed breakthroughs.
Maybe you should also pick up some notepads and sticky notes, you saw how thin the pad had gotten last night. It just so happened that the romance section was right by the shelves of stationeries. The book from Fontaine you had bought on a whim was in your opinion more psychological than romantic. However, the romantic elements present seems to have reignited your interest in the romance genre. 
Oh well, you were grown enough now to not be so easily swooned by poetic descriptions of love. You picked the first book whose description piqued your interest and added it to the basket. 
One of the first lessons taught to the children of Sumeru was to be cautious when putting out campfires. If not killed correctly, the unseen smoke can make fallen leaves catch fire. A small flame grows into a hellish blaze that consumes whole acres of forest. 
--
   “Thank you very much. Again, this isn’t necessary.” Alhaitham still took the books out of your hands. 
The small notepad on top of the stack caught his attention, his teal eyes looked into yours with a questioning glance. 
“Your notepad’s running out, and there was a sale.” 
“I see.” 
From time to time during your quiet reading session, you would glance up, a part of you hoping to see Alhaitham use the new stationery you’ve just bought him. A frown tugged at your lips when you saw he had set it to the side in favor of his old, thinning notepad. Maybe the color isn’t to his liking. 
You continue to buy stationeries for him. Any fancy notepads or post-its that caught your eye at a store, every time you give them to him, he would thank you. Then proceed to never use them. Perhaps, the ones you got were too fancy? He seemed to like simple and practical items. Next time you got plainer ones, just simple squares of plain paper, he still left them untouched. 
Maybe, you needed to find higher-quality ones. But if he didn’t like them then why does he keep accepting them? Should you try your luck with pens instead, he does go through quite a few. Ah, the sentiment from the very first time you met him still rang true to this day. Alhaitham is a weird Alpha. 
He was an enigma to you. 
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You were an enigma to him. 
Alhaitham wasn’t sure when it started, but his mind grew curious about you. Perhaps it’s because he read through his collection of books, or maybe because things at work have been dull lately. Thus, he deduced it was only logical that you started to pique this interest in a bored mind. You lived in the same house and slept in the same bed. With you constantly being in close proximity, of course, he will want to learn more about you after more than three years together. 
One of the best ways to start studying you would be to start with your bookshelf. Alhaitham vaguely remembers you saying that you were interested in books, yet in all these years in the same space he hasn’t ever seen you touch your own shelf. What a pity, he could’ve used the extra space for his own books. Running a finger along the row of books, stopping on a random one he made his decision. 
--
Your taste in literature is, how should he put it, very different from his own preferences. The descriptions of the actions taken by the Alpha main character and his Omega lover were idiotic, to say the least. The lengthy declarations of the love and affection they held for each other, and the sentences riddled with exaggerations and rhetoric. The romance between the characters was the priority of the novel, thus the plot suffered greatly from it. 
In his opinion, the book was a mess. Yet, he didn’t once feel as if he had wasted his time. Alhaitham discovered a new side to you, is this the type of novel that interests you even as a Beta? The soft taps of your feet suddenly paused as it rounded the corner into the living room. Alhaitham looked up to see a tense look on your face as you stared at the novel currently in his hands. 
No words were exchanged between the two of you as you continued to stare, looking at the book then back at him. It was only for a minute at most, yet it felt a lot longer before you turned on your heels without so much as a word. It was brief, but Alhaitham thinks he saw the tips of your ears flush. Oh, did he stumble upon a guilty pleasure of yours? 
His actions must have been the cause of this deviation from routine, Alhaitham concluded while staring at the stack of books presented to him. Even on birthdays and holidays, gifts weren’t regularly exchanged between the two of you, so this was certainly a surprise. You were looking at him with eyes urging him to take the heavy books from your hands. He couldn’t refuse the offer. 
What came next was even more of a surprise, you sat on the usually empty sofa and pulled out a book of your own. The cover was different from the ones lining your bookshelf, the colors were much simpler, he also notes that the book comes from Fontaine. You were quiet and focused on your own novel, it didn’t cause any disruptions to his sacred reading time so he didn’t say anything about it. 
Soon your curled form on the sofa became a regular sight to see. Every now and then you’d readjust your position, trying to find a comfortable way to hold your book while also relaxing. Alhaitham subconsciously scribbles down brief notes on the book he holds in his other hand. Yet this time when he looked down, he had recorded this small detail about you on the paper. He felt your eyes glancing over as he swiftly crossed out what he had just written. 
A few days later you gifted him more books along with a new notepad. Now there's an unequal exchange happening. You have now gifted him many items, and he has yet to give you anything in return besides a simple ‘thanks’. What should he give you? Alhaitham pondered the question for a bit. 
He realizes that he doesn’t have a firm grasp on your likes and dislikes. Should he try books? No, he’s not familiar enough with your taste in literature to confidently gift a book you’d enjoy. If there was something that you liked, you’d just buy it right then and there with no hesitation with your own money. He thought about it a bit longer. 
When you came home from a particularly tiring day of work you’d often have a small take-out bag in your hands. The frown on your face would melt away the moment you pulled the padisarah pudding from the bag. Alhaitham opened his eyes, he has found the gift to give you. But from which cafe did you get that dessert? 
--
“Oh?” You looked at the padisarah pudding currently on the kitchen table. 
“It’s for you.” Alhaitham didn’t look up from his book. 
“Thank you. Actually, I have something for you as well.” You began to dig through your bag. 
Alhaitham glanced up to see you present him a new notepad and a stack of stick notes, the green paper embossed with gold detailing. He hasn’t even touched the first notepad you had gifted with a pen, and here you were giving him another. Now the current gift balance is even more off. 
You took your first spoonful of the pudding, his teal eyes secretly peeking at your expression as you processed the flavor. You furrowed your brow slightly holding the spoon in your mouth, then shrugged your shoulder as you took another bite. Your face didn’t light up like when you ate the ones you bought. 
Tsk, this means Alhaitham bought it from the wrong store. He knows he could simply just ask you which place made your favorite pudding. However, he finds the opportunity for experimentation in front of him more interesting. He wonders what faces you’ll give for each variation of the dessert. 
He gained more knowledge about you, you have a sweet tooth. He already guessed from your fondness for a certain dessert, but those were a treat for once in a while. You liked fruits, often snacking on them when you were bored on your phone, or as a late-night snack when reading. 
“Mmmh.” You looked down at the zaytun peach in your hand. 
“Is something the matter?” He asked, placing his cup of coffee down. 
“Which vendor did you get this peach from?” You looked over at him. 
“Why? Is there something wrong with the quality?”
“No, I like it. It’s got the right amount of firmness and sweetness.” You took another bite. 
Alhaitham made sure to only get zaytun peaches from that specific vendor. 
--
Currently, the head secretary was facing a small dilemma. On his desk he has amassed quite a collection of stationeries. All in part thanks to you, he took some of the notepads and sticky notes to his office, your gifting habits slowed when it looked like he was using them. The ashen-haired man could not pinpoint where this sudden obsession of giving him stationeries came from. 
Although, he has to admit it is quite amusing to watch the expression on your face as you watched his every time you handed over a new office item. It reminds him of a cat presenting its owner with shiny objects it had found, waiting for its human to react. But the current gift exchange ratio is still off. 
  His teal eyes scanned the report that had been placed on his desk earlier in the morning, there were a lot of important details between the lines on the pages. He should list down the details on a note before passing it on to the CEO. A hand reached towards the pile of post-its on his desk, courtesy of you, before it stopped. 
‘It would be too much of a waste to use good quality paper for such a tedious task.’ He reasons as he used one of the subpar post-its provided by the office. 
Dropping the report off at the CEO’s desk before he headed out for his lunch break. Walking to his favorite cafe, a familiar flash of color caught his eyes, a florist was selling potted pardisarahs. You did always seem to admire the colorful flowers that decorated the top of the dessert. 
He stood there on the street contemplating the plant. Padisarahs are fickle flowers, needing a specific blend of soil and precisely measured amounts of water. Too much sun and the fragile petals will burn, too little and the vibrancy of its leaves fade. He concluded that he didn’t want to bestow such a hassle on you. 
Returning from his lunch break to his office, Alhaitham was greeted by a great violation of his personal space. Covering his desk were stacks of new proposals and applications, those weren’t out of the ordinary. But the colorful squares plastered all over each new proposal were:
Please approve these proposals secretary Alhaitham! They are very important! ASAP
Here are the calculations of the research funds for next year, take a look at them - T
Alhaitham you better approve my application this time, the project is already delayed and I filed this paperwork twice! If you have any respect for your senior then approve this as soon as possible! - K
Head secretary, these are the new amendments to company policies. The legal team is awaiting your approval before we proceed with the implementation. - C
 They used the stationeries that you had gifted him to write nonsense. They had the gall to ask him for favors after they touched his desk without permission and wasted such pretty paper. 
Every proposals on his desk got thrown in the trash without so much as a glance. Nothing got approved, next time they should carefully consult his listed work hours outside the office. 
He didn’t think he’d have to make a sign that said ‘do not touch the items on my desk’ to a workplace of grown adults, but he was very much contemplating it now.  
Later that night, his annoyance from earlier in the day melted away once he cracked open the new book gifted to him. Your form comfortably wrapped in a light quilt as you cradled yours. The minutes turned into hours, the silence comfortable like the heat from a fireplace. A soft snap echoed through the room, your hand moving towards your face from the corner of his eye.
“Is something the matter?”
“Mm? Oh, no. The ending was just sad.” You wiped a tear from your other eye.
He learned something new about himself today, he didn’t like seeing you cry. 
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You really should’ve known better. Like Icarus, you’ve flown too close to the sun. The glue binding the wings of maturity and sanity you’ve crafted started to melt and fall apart, causing you to plunge down. Falling back into the obsession of ‘love’. What started as just one book, turned into two, turned into four. Now your once sparsely populated shelves were crowded with new romance titles of all sorts. 
--
 “You’re rather late today.” Alhaitham’s voice made you freeze in place. 
Why did the living room have to be so close to the front door, maybe you should’ve snuck back in through the back door. Sneaking back into your own house, did you revert back to a teenager while in your fourth year of marriage? 
“Sorry ‘bout that, I got caught up with friends.” 
That was a blatant lie, your poor friends were dragged into your mess all because you couldn’t be honest. You weren’t in their company, no, you were in the theaters watching a film alone. But how could you ever admit to him that as the Alpha and Omega lovers danced on the screen, you pictured your faces over theirs? 
Alhaitham acknowledged your explanation with a small hum, never looking up from his book. Good, because you were certain if he did, he would’ve seen right through your lie. 
Was your handsome husband the spark that rekindled your obsession? Or was it the stories you’ve been consuming that made your heart thump harder in his presence? 
You weren’t sure which was which, but you couldn’t deny the truth you’ve buried. You were in love with Alhaitham. It was an undeniable fact. From the beginning, you’ve always liked him. His quiet demeanor, his baritone voice, and his teal-orange eyes. But now you were in love with them, every aspect of him. You hated how helpless it made you feel. 
But you secretly liked how good it felt. After years of dormancy, you finally felt it, the rush described to you in those stories. That can’t sleep love, that delicious burn of pining, the itch in your chest as you laid in bed next to him. Two quilts defining the unseen boundaries of personal space, you longed to creep over it but you lacked the courage. 
What does he smell like? The same shower and laundry products were shared between the two of you. But that is not what you meant. What did his pheromones smell like? Was it a cool fresh scent, cool like the minty streaks hidden through his ashen hair? Or was it deep and woodsy? Maybe he smells like the pages of an old library book. 
You used to pity your Omega classmates, for you knew the stigma and inconveniences they will face in their lives. However, right now you envied them to the point of nausea. They knew what Alhaitham’s scent was, but you don’t. Why did you have to be a Beta? 
The demon known as insecurity you thought you’ve left behind was actually lurking in your shadow the whole time. 
Maybe you should check yourself into the Bimarstan, the fever of love feels as if it’s melting your brain. His gaze felt piercing now, his accidental skinships seared your skin. You had no one to blame but yourself, Alhaitham is not at fault, you were the one who fell into the fire as he sat in his place on the couch unaware. Even after four years you still couldn’t be honest with your own husband.
Feelings were never discussed because he believed you had a mutual understanding that this was for convenience. 
You can’t tell him you wanted more. How can you tell him you wanted more? There’s already a wall four years in the making, too great to overcome.   
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‘I need to rein myself in’ Alhaitham thought as his eyes followed your figure through the crowd below. It was a slow Friday at work so he decided to walk away from his desk, arriving at an overpass that looked over the streets of Sumeru. Something compelled him to look below, and under the golden sun there you were, and by your side was another Alpha. 
Dehya is her name, a good friend of yours that you introduced once before leaving for a birthday celebration. A good friend who had the privilege to ruffle your hair and loop an arm around your shoulders as she ushers you into one of the many stalls filled with glittering trinkets. 
His hand tightened its grip on the railing, why did she have privileges he was denied? Alhaitham felt he was stalking his own wife. Idiotic really. 
Skinship was not commonplace between you, an unseen glass wall defining the boundaries of your personal space. Whenever his skin met yours, you’d flinch and pull away as if you were burned. He always just apologize and the two of you would move on without another word. Hell, even if his eyes lingered on you for too long you’d tense up. 
It’s been happening more often now, is it because his eyes started wandering more towards your figure or how his hand itched to hold yours?  
Were you scarred by a past relationship? Were your flinches the remnants of a darker period in your life before him? His jaw clenched. By pulling a few strings he had pulled up more files of your past, to satisfy his mind’s hungry, but there was nothing. It only made his curiosity hunger more, or was it something else? Alhaitham wanted answers to why you hated his touches and stares, yet wanted to be in his presence and give him gifts. 
There was only one conclusion he could come up with: you liked your personal space. And he will respect it, but why did your friends not have to?
There was now a knot in his stomach as if a beast was clawing at it, maybe he should call off work and head to the Bimarstan. He disappeared from the overpass. 
“Haitham.” He heard your soft pounds on the door. 
“Leave some hot water for me.” He could envision the pout on your lips, and that’s what brought him over the edge. 
Watching with shameless eyes as the evidence of his guilt washed down the shower drain, running water masking his pants. 
If he can’t touch you, that doesn’t mean he can’t think about you; words spoken like a true creep he silently chastised. Alhaitham doesn’t care to admit how long he’s been doing this, perhaps his primal urges weren’t as controlled as he believed. 
It’s strange really, you’re a Beta yet you make him have these urges.
You don’t produce any pheromones to cling onto his body. But by using the same shower products as you, it serves the same purpose of scenting no? A foolish voice Alhaitham pushed from the back of his mind, taking another pump of your body wash. Maybe he should check the dosage of his inhibitors. 
The only opportunity he got to observe you closely was when you were asleep. ‘You’re quite the heavy sleeper’, he notes as his eyes traced over the subtle curves of your cheeks, the contours of your nose, and the softness of your lips. 
It’s accepted wisdom that Omegas were the most beautiful people. The top A-list singers and actors being Omegas only solidified the belief. However, Alhaitham’s confident your existence could challenge that very notion. 
If it weren’t for your distinct lack of a scent, any Alpha could’ve mistaken you for an Omega. Even his guests were taken aback by how your appearance didn’t match your status as a Beta. 
There was a pang in his chest. If he felt those urges when looking at you, then it’s guaranteed that others, specifically other Alphas, have felt it as well. But why? He trusted you to stay true to your convictions of loyalty and integrity… He wasn’t so sure about others though. Even with the inhibitors coursing through his system, he couldn’t seem to push down that annoying hand clawing at his back. 
You stirred, huddling into your blanket more, snapping his attention back. ‘Oh, you must be cold again’. The houses in Sumeru were designed to keep hot air out, so when a northern cold front blew in, you definitely felt it. 
Quietly getting up, Alhaitham pulled the spare quilt out of the closet, gently layering it over your curled form. The knit between your brows disappeared as a pleased expression overtook your face. Were you having a pleasant dream? Was he ever included? Subconsciously his hand began to reach for your face, only to freeze. 
‘Personal space’ he reminds himself as he strolls out of the bedroom. 
It makes no sense to him, you’re a Beta. In fact, the reason why he married you in the first place was because he believed your lack of pheromones and lack of heats won’t disrupt his peaceful life. The matchmaker had called him her biggest challenge, persevering only because of a promise made to his late grandma. 
So, how were you still corrupting his thoughts like this? 
He should read to calm his mind before he attempts to join you back in bed. Thoughts running laps in his head, analyzing then overanalyzing every last explanation he could come up with. 
Alhaitham’s greedy hands made their way over to your bookshelf, perhaps he could sedate a bit of his curiosity as well. Pulling the Fontainian novel that marked the start of a tradition. 
Under the golden glow of a lamp he flipped through the pages, it seems that your taste in literature has matured. Teal eyes skimming past a paragraph before going back to do a double take. 
‘Love born in the brain is more spirited, doubtless, than true love, but it has only flashes of enthusiasm; it knows itself too well, it criticizes itself incessantly; so far from banishing thought, it is itself reared only upon a structure of thought.’
He reached an epiphany. 
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It looks like you’ve been careless recently. Too distracted by the task of masking your infatuation of your husband from your husband, and maintaining your independent mask to realize that Alhaitham had once again finished all his books. 
The novel right in front of you, moved from its place on your shelf, was proof of that. 
‘It’s a good book’
Your husband’s neat handwriting was present on the small mint post-it plastered on the front cover. It was a simple gesture yet it made your heart flutter as if you had won the achievement of a lifetime. You finally got Alhaitham to use one of the many stationeries gifted to him. 
Carefully peeling the paper off the cover, then folding it to tuck it away in your pocket. 
“At least it’s not another light novel this time.” You affirmed, sticking the book back into its spot. 
--
“The mahamatra have announced a total recall of the inhibitors distributed during the past three months, with reports-”
You were lost in your own little world, contemplating just which books haven’t you bought for your husband yet. Tuning out the sounds of the bookstore playlist and TV as your eyes scanned the titles of the thick books in front of you. 
Would he like Sci-Fi? Sure it’s not academic but maybe it’ll have nuggets of information in there that’d catch his interest. 
--
The weight of the books made your bag strap dig into your shoulder, seeing the house in the distance, you picked up your pace for the home stretch. Tomorrow marks the start of a four-day public holiday, and after the crunch time your boss put you through to tie up loose ends. You needed it. 
Turning the keys in the knob you entered your peaceful little safe haven. 
Only to immediately feel the heaviness in the air. 
Your husband should be home by now, yet the spot on the couch remained empty. His shoes were placed at the door, albeit messily. Kicking off yours as you placed the bag on the coffee table, you navigated your way through the halls. 
The atmosphere was quiet, but not the comforting silence you’ve experienced for the last five years. 
“Haitham?” You called out, about to turn the corner into the master bedroom. 
His black button-down and slacks were thrown all over the floor, a large lump was currently huddled under your blankets on your side of the bed. ‘Oh, he must be napping’. 
Two years in, Alhaitham slept shirtless again like he did before you came. Never before were you grateful that your job made you get up at ungodly 8 am, but having an extra 30 minutes to look at his godly body as he slept made mornings bearable. 
Still, the air didn’t feel right and even if he was messy sometimes, your husband never just threw his clothes on the ground when the laundry basket was right in the corner. His breathing also seemed labored. 
“Haitham, are you sick?” Reaching a hand into the cocoon of blankets, feeling for his temperature. 
A sharp inhale was heard as his breathing stilled, his skin was burning. You moved onto a different patch of skin to confirm it. He must have a fever. 
“You’re burning! I’ll get medicine and water, don’t move.” Your hand quickly retracted. 
Just as your back was turned towards him, like a monster from beneath the blankets a pair of arms entrapped you.
“H-haitham?” His touch was searing you. 
“W-woah?!” 
In an instant, you were pinned under Alhaitham’s towering form, the soft sheets cushioning your body. The place where he once curled was twisted and balmy. Your eyes shoot up at him as he hovered above, your body stiffened. A scarlet haze offset the brilliant teal hue you’ve grown so infatuated with, a sense of impending danger ran down your neck. 
He doesn’t have a fever, he’s in a rut. 
Your thoughts were running wild, bouncing around in your skull as his labored breathing above continued. In all five years, you’ve never seen Alhaitham go into a rut, he was always diligent with his inhibitors. You’ve never been around an Alpha in rut, after all, you were never the one to trigger it. 
It’s embarrassing really, you had no idea what to do, all your experience with ruts came from those steamy light novels. 
“H-haitham, let me up, I’ll get your inhibitors...” You tried to tug your wrists from his grasp. 
Big mistake. His grip tightened as he buried his face into the side of your neck, a low rumble was felt from his chest. Alhaitham had his nose right up against your neck, taking deep inhales as if he was trying to detect something. 
You shivered as your body temperature shot up, you’ve never been this close to him, the brushes of his ashen locks against your neck made your legs rub together. 
“Hey…” You moved your neck away, the sensation was almost overwhelming. 
“Stay still.” A baritone voice vibrated against you. 
On command your body stilled, muscles refusing to move as Alhaitham continued his search. His breath was against your ear, tickling it as he took deep inhales of your hair. A low groan was heard as if he was frustrated with something.  
“Not enough.” 
“Huh?-” 
The sound your blouse getting torn off your body resonated through the air. Even will a layer of clothing gone, your body felt hotter. Just as you began to process the loss of your favorite blouse, another rip rang in your ears. Your skirt was now gone as well. You were so vulnerable under his touches. 
Dragging his nose down from your neck, over your covered breasts, then along your belly. His hands now gripped your thighs as he shifts down to part them effortlessly, eyes focused on your covered cunt. 
Your mind was groggy, reactions dulled, why was the room so hot? Suddenly you felt his nose against your cunt, taking long whiffs of the slick that was beginning to wet the fabric of your panties. That was enough to spark action from you. 
“H-hey!” Your hands pushed against his messy locks as your thighs tried to preserve your dignity.  
“Ah!” You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your mouth. 
In protest of your attempt to shut him out of heaven, Alhaitham bit into the soft flesh of your thigh. Hazy eyes looking straight into yours, warning you to not do it again. His intense gaze made something deep in your cunt pulse. 
Sharp teeth released soft skin as his attention was back on the honeypot in front of him. Your panties offered as much resistance as wet paper against his swift tug, the fabric now on the floor in pieces. 
Your cunt twitched with each hot breath that hit against its wet lips. With the thin barrier gone, Alhaitham can now freely bury his nose against your honeypot, tingles ran up his spine as the sweet musk of your slick sent his olfactory system into chaos. His throat felt parched as if he had just trekked the desert, he needed a taste. 
“Ah! Ahhh,” your back arched as his hot tongue lapped against your cunt. 
Alhaitham was slurping up your slick like a depraved beast, wet muscles sliding up the whole length of your slit, occasionally dipping into the contracting hole. Your whole body shook when the smoothness of his tongue ran across your clit, toes curling in the air.
 The shower head couldn’t bring out this level of pleasure. The fantasies you envisioned during your long showers couldn’t compare to the scene happening right now. His ministration continued, each stroke of his tongue sending blinding waves of pleasure. 
His hips were angrily rutting against the sheets, erection rubbing against the fabric impatiently. But he had to taste you more, his mind hazy as it craved nothing more than your taste. It was his first taste, but he was already addicted. Your legs tensed up in his grip as a loud whine left your lips, your body shaking as a sudden rush of slick was welcomed onto his awaiting tongue. 
Your sensitive body tried to flinch away as he continued to lap against your swollen lips and clit but his iron grip on your legs didn’t let you budge an inch. Eyes rolled back as the sweet torture continued. 
Your body convulsed, did you just cum again? Two orgasms sapped you of all strength, everything fell limp as your moans continued to fill the room. Your mind too foggy to even process the feeling of embarrassment. It felt so good, yet it was torturing, your cunt was sobbing for something else. 
As if taking mercy on your desperation, or maybe his desperation had reached its limit, Alhaitham pulled away. Teary eyes followed his motion, watching as he aligned his length with your greed.
You’ve seen him walk out of the shower in just a towel, how did he hide this behind a puny towel? 
Your cunt’s eagerness blocked any hesitation from reaching your brain as his length dragged itself against your soaked lips. The pillow behind your head was not enough, you needed something more solid to hold onto, to ground the last shred of your sanity. 
Shaky hands released the plush pillows, outstretched towards Alhaitham’s immense frame. A growl ripped through his chest as he dove into your arms at the same time as his length thrusted fully inside you.  
“OH!” Your fingers left deep stretches along his shoulder blades. 
His pants and soft growls vibrated against your neck as your eyes rolled back again, the fullness you’d been craving has been fulfilled. The stretch burned in all the right ways as your walls clung onto his member, thick and hard. Soft legs locked around a solid torso, your body pressed against his as his frame pinned yours to the bed. Just as you were adjusting to feeling of his length inside, his hips began moving. 
They were merciless, slapping against your hips and ass as the force made your whole body bounce. His length punishes your walls as it pulled out to just the tip only to be slammed back in at full strength. You clung to his muscular body for dear life, breasts bouncing out of their home in your bra. 
Nonsense was spilling out of your mouth as your brain malfunctioned from the blinding flashes of pleasure. The slick slaps of your cunt eagerly welcoming his every move and the headboard of the bed knocking against the wall complimented each other. 
Alhaitham’s pants were growing heavier, growls deeper as his tongue began to trace up and down your neck. The sensation along with his thick tip bullying your poor sweet spot pushed you over the edge for the third time. Walls clamping down to milk him as your legs squeezed him, the pleasure was toeing the edge of pain, much like how your brain was on the verge of madness. 
Nothing interrupted the pistoning of his hips as he fucked you through your orgasm, heavy balls slapping against your swollen lips. 
As the high was beginning to wear off, his pace became impossibly fast, the solid wood headboard now banging against the poor wall. Your bodies rocking together on the bed, he buried his face deeper into your neck. His teeth danced along your shoulder as your moans sang in his ears. He wanted to hear more of it. 
Alhaitham’s hips slammed against yours one final time before they stilled, teeth digging into your shoulder to suppress a moan, burying his length deep inside your cunt as his thick seed spilled. 
Your greed drank all of it up gratefully as your shoulder stung. 
Your chest was raising and falling fast, lungs trying to hog all the air that it could hold. Heart pounding hard in your ears. Tears and drool wet your face as your head fell weakly to the side on the soft pillow. You were completely spent as your arms didn’t even have the strength to hold onto him. Limbs limp and nerves fried. 
Above you Alhaitham continued to pant into your shoulder, length still buried inside. 
After a couple more harsh pants and deep breaths, you felt him stir, pushing against the bed to unpin you from his frame. 
“Ah-hh ahh~” You felt your walls clench once more around his length as he pulled out, a thick string of mixed slick connected his tip to your hole. 
Your body longed for rest as you turned onto your stomach, face pressed against the pillow, still panting heavily as your eyes closed. 
Two large hands grasped firmly onto your hips, startling your consciousness back as you looked over your shoulder. 
Alhaitham still had that scarlet haze in his eyes as he lifted your hips up, watching as more mixed fluids began to tickle out of your abused hole. Your eyes shifted down and you gulped, he was still erect. 
You were quite foolish to believe that one round was enough to satisfy an Alpha in rut. However, if it weren’t for his firm grasp on your hips, your body would’ve collapsed back into the sheets. 
A loud whine left your throat, vocalizing your exhaustion to him. It’s been a long time since you got any action, the two of you didn’t even consummate on the wedding night, it was spent packing your stuff. 
You tried to shift your hips out of his grip but he only held on tighter, earning another whine. 
Soft kisses were pressed against your back as if he was trying to soothe you. It was pathetic how weak you were to them, instantly melting against the pillow. Maybe you can last one more round you thought as his length rubbed against your slit again. 
Thanks to the extra prep and lubrication from the last round your walls were much more accustomed to the stretch as Alhaitham entered once more. His beginning thrusts were much more slowed and controlled than before as you moaned softly into the pillow. 
This couldn’t last sadly, as his lust overtook him again and his hips once again slammed into you, forcing a choked moan from you. Using his hands, he held your body up as he pulled all the way out until the tip then cruelly forced it all back into you. 
You wanted to beg him to rest, but you also wanted to beg for more. Your sloppy cunt accepted all his punishing movements with gratitude as the wet walls thanked his length with kiss-like contractions. 
Your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, mind absolutely blank, the pleasure must’ve melted your brain. All you could do was grip the tear-soaked pillow and let out moan after moan, the poor wall still getting beaten by the movement of the headboard. Tension building up once more in you. 
 Somewhere along the lines, you felt his teeth graze against your nape as his thrust picked up the pace once more, a sign that he was close to finishing. He was panting against the back of your neck as if he was searching for something. With a particularly harsh snap of his hips, he bites deeply into your nape as he releases a fresh batch of seed. 
“Why?”
You felt the frustrated growls against your skin as he bites again at a different angle. The pleasureful pain seems to have jump started your brain for just a second. 
‘Oh, he’s trying to bond.’ You felt Alhaitham’s soft locks brush against your shoulders as he continued his fruitless search. 
You were once reminded that you were just a Beta, unable to form a bond. He could bite your neck as many times as he wanted. His teeth can pierce the flesh until the skin was raw, but it would be all for naught. He’ll never get that satisfaction. You don’t have the glands to be bitten, to be marked, to be bonded with. 
You weren’t an Omega. There was now a heavy knot in your chest. 
You weren’t even sure what day it was, all you can recall is the hazy cycle of intense lust followed by a lull before the next round. During the lull, you did your damnedest to keep yourself and him hydrated, often having to lure him into the kitchen for some much-needed water and quick snacks. 
The air of the house was thick with the musk of sweat and desire, very nerve of yours fried from pleasure. 
Once again your body was pinned under his, legs thrown over his shoulders as his hips desperately snapped against yours. 
Every article of clothing has long since been removed, allowing your breasts to bounce along with every thrust. By now you were certain the shape of him was pounded into your cunt. The soaked sheets below clutched in your hands as if to ground you from floating up to cloud nine. 
The harsh pants and low growls above you increased in frequency in time with his thrusts. He must be close again. 
Fortunately, you’ve noticed that the breaks between each round have been getting longer and longer. A sign that the rut was ending. If you survive this you’ll bring offers to the sanctuary of surasthana to thank the archons for their blessing. Maybe after the feeling returns back to your legs of course. 
Suddenly your face was pushed into the side of his neck, the scent of sweat now stronger. 
“Bite.” His rugged voice commanded. 
Ah… he wanted you to mark him. With clumsy teeth, you felt around the smooth muscles. You can’t sense where his glands were so you just bit down at random along his neck. It was useless, you knew it, but still...
Alhaitham pushed himself eagerly against your teeth, encouraging you to bite harder with a growl. You obliged. 
His teeth ran along your raw neck, already covered in his bites and hickeys, searching for one last spot. Your jaw clamped down harder as his teeth sank into your neck one last time. Hips stilling as one final wave flooded into you, it was hard to tell when one orgasm ended and another began. 
Your hands found purchase around his back again, holding him close as you panted against his neck. Against yours a frustrated growl vibrated once more, his muddled mind confused as to why no bond has formed. 
“Why?”
There was that cold pierce of pain again. 
The large hand on the back of your head held your nose close against his searing skin. It could’ve just been your fried nerves, but as the darkness overtook your vision, you could’ve sworn there was a warm and opulent scent of wood and books.
 If you were reborn, in the next life could you recognize his scent?
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Your eyes opened up to blinding sunlight. Your body ached as if it had been through hell and back, bones threatening to turn into dust at any second. The large bed messy and only occupied by one body. Shifting your sight away from the stinging light, his empty pillow came into view. 
You weren’t sure what came over you, but even as your muscles screamed you pressed your nose into the cold pillow and inhaled. Nothing. Just sweat and disappointment. 
Just what were you hoping for? That a few nights of passion would birth a miracle? That you’d somehow turn into something you couldn’t be? In the end, you were still you. Those novels must’ve rotted your common sense, stupid. 
Bitter tears fell onto the pillow, you didn’t have the strength to hold back the sobs as they wrecked through your body. 
Yes, you were stupid. So stupid from the very start to believe that this could work. That maybe after a few more years, maybe at the seven-year mark, he could fall in love with you as well. 
The dream of his tender eyes looking into yours with love crumbled right there in front of you. 
 A cup clanged onto the desk in the room as footsteps quickly made their way to your side, a blurred figure knelt down. 
“Is your body hurting anywhere? I’ll take you to the Bimarstan.” Alhaitham gently sat your covered figure up, trying to see the extent of the situation. 
Your small hands pushed against his solid frame, his motion stilled as you refused to allow him to see your face. 
However, Alhaitham knows he didn’t have the right to. Not only did he invade your sacred personal space, but he did so like a wild beast. Not allowing your body to rest or replenish itself as he trapped you to the bed for almost four days. He deduced that you must be hurting, that you must be scared of him now, and that must be the reason behind your tears. 
Guilt was suffocating him. Those stupid urges, that stupid rut. His stupid hands refusing to let you go.
Throughout your whole marriage, you had put on the mask of independence, someone who did not need to lean on a husband for comfort. Yet here you were, bawling out your eyes in front of him like a child. Your façade has been cracked, tears soaking into his pillow and snot trickling down under his unwavering gaze. 
What was the look on his face right now? You couldn’t see through the mirage of tears blurring your sight, not that you had the courage to face him. Was it disappointment? Right now as he observed your vulnerable figure, did he feel lied to after all these years? Like he had just discovered the defects in a product? 
The freezing water of self-loathing, doubt, and insecurity filled you like a boat whose haul had been pierced by the jagged edges of an iceberg. You were drowning, your limbs kicking and thrashing with all their might trying to resurface. 
For a brief moment, your face bobbed above the crashing waves.
“Let's get a divorce.” 
Those were the only words you managed to choke out in the space between your sobs before your head disappeared under the murky waters once more. 
His whole body froze as he processed your words. Alhaitham had already deduced why you wanted to end this relationship, he had hurt and scarred you. Yet, like a child, he still wanted to clamber for more answers. 
“Why?” He said through clenched teeth, you couldn’t see it but his hands had a slight shake. 
“We’re not satisfied, Alhaitham. I-it’s not working, I-i can’t satisfy your requirements. I-i can’t make you happy, I-i can’t make you love… me.” Hiccups breaking up your sentences.
That was it, you spilled out all your secrets. Your lungs and throat hurting as if you just pushed salt water out of them. 
Alhaitham’s hands were balled up so tightly his nails broke the skin on his palms. 
So, you weren’t happy. He couldn’t make you happy. He felt as if he had dropped down to the tier of a fool. A fool who didn’t know how to make those bitter tears of yours stop. 
He released you. 
You felt his presence disappear from your side. The touch of warmth he provides was now gone as coldness fully engulfs your whole being. The tears just wouldn’t stop. Is this what those heartbroken sobs actually felt like? Why did you ever think this was something to be desired? You truly were an idiot. 
You weren’t sure how long had passed, a few seconds or a few minutes, but his presence returned back to your side. He looked as if he had something in his hands. Were they divorce papers? Ah, Alhaitham was a man who always had a plan for everything. Did he have a premonition that this marriage was doomed from the start? How long has he had them?
Alhaitham didn’t feel like he had the right to touch you. However, he needed to do something to make you look at him. Please, just look at him. His large hands tenderly grasped yours as if they were made from glass. You still hid your face from him.
“I won’t bind you to a life that brings you unhappiness. But.. You have to tell me” His voice wasn’t as steady as he wanted it. 
“If you want strolls through the market, tell me. If you want to be woken up with sweet whispers, tell me. If you want to hold hands across a date night table, then tell me. You have to tell me what will make you happy.” He wasn’t sure if those were your unfulfilled desires or his.
You could only tighten your grip on his hands as you sobbed harder. 
Your statement from before was incorrect. Alhaitham is also at fault for this pain you were going through. If there was one feeling that was just as addictive as love, it would be hope. Please, please don’t give false hope. 
“I-i’ll disrupt your-r life…” You managed to choke out.
His thumb gently stroke the back of your knuckles.
“How could you ever disrupt something you’re a part of?” 
Your hesitant eyes finally met his teal gaze, his eyes soft as opposed to their usual stonewall stare. With the walls down, you were given a glimpse into the whirling emotions behind them. Endearment, sincerity, and hurt danced along the green-blue irises. 
“As for your last reason, here. I should’ve just given this to you directly.” His hands let go of yours, picking up the item he had brought.
He handed over the book you had placed back on your bookshelf a few days earlier, the one he had left his note on. So, he didn’t have divorce papers prepared? Your trembling hands accepted it, and through your teary eyes, you finally noticed the torn-out green and gold note contrasting between the cream pages. 
Tenderly, you unfolded the piece of paper retrieved from the book. Quickly blinking to clear your eyes from excess tears. In the neat script of Alhaitham’s handwriting: 
 ‘Love born in the heart as opposed to Love born in the brain:
 When one loves at first sight or goes looking for love, then one is essentially just attracted to someone for the sake of being with someone. Not looking objectively at any warning signs or relationship flaws one has with someone. If there are any issues, the bias of infatuation blinds you to them. 
So that's loving with the heart, based solely on carefree addictive emotion, even though it feels stronger and more enthusiastic on the surface. 
Love from the brain is more logical and objective. You take the time to understand a person, seeing them for them with unbiased eyes. You understand them thoroughly and can maturely and objectively work through the turbulence of life together. Individuals who set aside precious time to manually repair creaks, maintaining the structural integrity of a home that shelters their affections. 
With the diligence of a conservator preserving ancient scripts on papyrus that should have been disintegrated long ago. 
The latter rather than the former describes the bond forged between my wife and I.’ 
Your grip crumpled the side of the paper.
“What does this mean?” Hesitation in your voice as tears blurred your vision of his teal eyes. 
“I love you.” He confessed. Three words have been overdue for years.
‘Don’t be filled with false hope’ Your mind echoed.
 “I’m not an Omega…”
“That’s not a requirement for love.”
That was it. It was as if you’ve been waiting all this time for him to say those words. The words of affirmation you didn’t know you needed. The key to free you from the cage of insecurity you’ve built for yourself. 
Your feet now touched the warm sandy bottom as air rushed back into your lungs.
  It looks like you’ve figured it out. Regardless of what definition of love has been pushed by external forces, these feelings he holds for you are objectively pure and true love. His hands tenderly took yours away from its grip on the paper. If you wanted him to, Alhaitham will spend the rest of his life proving it to you. He’ll conduct every experiment and collect all the data points to present to you. 
How silly, a red thread spun by two pairs of hands, created through undying trust, respect, and admiration had already tied the two of you in a bond. The love you were trying so hard for had always been right in front of you for five years.
The blanket draped behind your head resembled a wedding veil as the fabric folded and gathered around your trembling body. ‘Beautiful’ He thought. 
The room was a mess, sheets and clothes strewn all across the floor. The musk of lust still hung heavy in the air, the residue of sweat and other fluids still clinging to skin. Your hair was all over the place, tears still pouring from your eyes, his hair was no better. But in this moment, there was nothing more Alhaitham wanted to do than this: 
“Will you take me, Alhaitham, as your lawfully married husband? To love me through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain?” 
Sobs were still wracking through your body, words unable to form in your mouth but you were nodding your head enthusiastically. Your hands felt small firmly holding onto his larger ones. 
“I, Alhaitham, will take you as my lawfully married wife. I will love you through sickness and health, through poverty and wealth, and through sun and rain… I do.” 
It was a silly sight to behold, but in this moment as he finally sees a smile break out on your face, it means the world to him. 
There’s a saying from a well-known poet from Fontaine it goes as follows:
‘Love is being stupid together.’ 
And clearly, the two of you have been very stupid. Oh so stupidly in love.  
Fin~
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Authors note:
The long quote was taken from Stendhal’s The Red and The Black
The last quote is from Paul Valery
Also communication is v important to any relationship, people can’t read minds Alhaitham. If you made it this far, thank you and hope you enjoyed!
DON’T PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ON DIFFERENT PLATFORMS. 
6K notes · View notes
whatsk-poppinhomies · 8 months
Text
When Their GF Is Followed Home
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Pairing : ot8 (separately) x f!reader TW : reader getting followed ; reader panicking ; honestly it's fluffy ; major anxiety though ; might be anxiety inducing or triggering ; Word Count : Bangchan (745) ; Minho (847) ; Changbin (747) ; Hyunjin (1370) ; Jisung (1396) ; Felix (1114) ; Seungmin (1564) ; Jeongin (1645) -TOTAL : 9.4k AN : this is entirely self indulgent and I will write my requests, this is kind of a coping mechanism for me. Thank you for being patient with me and for everyone who commented on my post about what had happened and I really do appreciate and love all of you. I won't tag my perm. tag list in this one because it isn't really a request or anything, it's just for me, but I'm gonna post it here just in case anyone else needs it or wants to read it.
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You should have been home 5 minutes ago, he knew exactly the amount of time it took for you to get from your job to the house, and even if traffic was bad, it would only tack on an extra 3 or 4 minutes. It’s been 20 minutes since you told him you got out of work, and now he was starting to worry. Did you have to stay late? It wasn’t unlikely, but you’d usually tell him these things so he wouldn’t wait up for you at night. 
His phone started vibrating, and when he saw your name as the caller ID, he let out a little sigh of relief… Until he answered and he heard the sound of the car running, which wasn’t what he was used to considering you were a strict advocate of not using your phone while driving at all. Then he heard your heavy breaths and your sniffling. You were crying. “Channie…” You whispered, the sound of his name shaky when it left your lips. “I’m being followed… I don’t know what to do…” 
The panic that he initially felt came back tenfold, he felt like he couldn’t breathe, and the worst part was that there was nothing he could do. It’s not like he’d tell you to stop the car so he could get to you, he didn’t know what the person following you was capable of or even what they planned on doing. “Call the cops… Okay? Call the cops and go back to your work. Stay in your car… Lock the doors and keep the windows up.” 
You gasped before he heard the loud sob, he was terrified just hearing about it, he couldn’t even begin to imagine how you felt right now. “O-Okay… Bye… I… I love you…” You stammered, and the way you said it only had him freaking out even more. It sounded like you were saying goodbye to him, not like you normally would, but like a final goodbye. 
He knew where you were going, and he couldn’t, he just couldn’t sit at home and wait. He needed to know right then that you were okay, so he grabbed his keys, not even bothering to change into his shoes, running straight out the door and climbing in his car, racing towards your work. His own hands were shaking as his fingers wrapped around the steering wheel, his entire body was trembling as his head filled with the worst thoughts of what could have happened to you. 
The ride to your work was actually quite short, just a couple blocks, but right now it felt like it took forever to get there, but once he was finally in the parking lot, he could see that you were parked right out front. He pulled his car around to park behind you, quickly climbing out to run over to yours. 
It was heartbreaking to see the way you jumped when he got up to the window, the way your body was still shaking and your one hand still wrapped around the wheel in a vice grip as if you were ready to speed off if that person did come back. Once you realized it was him though, you rolled your window down, and then he really saw you. 
Your eyes were bloodshot and you were practically hyperventilating. “I-It’s my b-boyfriend…” You said to whoever it was on the phone, and when he glanced at it, he could see that you were still on the phone with the police. “I’ll hang up now… Thank you…” You whispered before ending the call and then looking up at him with the glassiest eyes, the saddest eyes, and all he wanted to do was hold you, to tell you that everything would be okay. “An officer is… on the way… right now…” 
“I’ll stay here with you, I’m not leaving you.” He assured you, grabbing your hand through the window and leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help… I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I promise I won’t let anything like that happen ever again.” And now he was crying, you both were crying as you sat in the parking lot, but that promise that he made was one that he’d stick to and keep forever. You were the most precious thing in his life and he’d make sure that you never have to go through something like that ever again.
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It was a late night in the practice room, another comeback and he wanted this one to be just as powerful as the last so he was practicing his dances as much as he could. He was taking a small break, resting against the mirrored walls of the room when his phone started vibrating on the floor beside him, the sight of your name and picture on his screen had all of his exhaustion washing away and a smile spreading across his face. 
“You know I love you… Right…?” Was the first thing you said as soon as he answered the phone, and the question alone had his heart sinking, but the way you said it, the way you sounded, he knew that something was wrong. “I’m headed back up to my work right now… I just wanted you to know that I love you so much… Give the cats kisses for me. I gotta go though… I’ll text you when I can…” 
The call ended before he was even able to say anything, but it was all so cryptic, it scared the hell out of him. Whatever was happening, he could tell that you were beyond scared, and for some reason you were saying your final goodbyes, and that had him pushing himself up off the floor and rushing out of the practice room and down the hall to the elevators. 
He was pissed at himself for staying at work so late, the building was on the complete opposite side of town, there was no way in hell he was going to make it to you. He didn’t know what the hell was going on, and all of the texts that he was sending didn’t seem to be going through because you weren’t answering any of them. He felt physically sick, like the entire room was spinning and his knees felt weak and he couldn’t breathe and he really just wanted to hear from you, to know that you were okay. 
“You shouldn’t be on your phone while you’re driving, you could cause an accident, Min.” He remembered the way you’d scold him from the passenger seat if he even reached for his phone while his car was in motion. That little memory only scared him more because he heard the sound of your engine running in the background of the call, you were on your phone while you were driving… Or maybe… Maybe you weren’t driving… Maybe it was someone else… His stomach sank deeper at the thought. There had been so many stories coming out recently about things that happened to unsuspecting people… You were so nice, so naive… He needed you to answer him, he needed you to text him back. 
20 minutes had passed since the initial phone call, he had sent you so many texts, and you finally answered him. “Heading home now… I’m sorry.” He was standing at the front door, waiting for your car to pull up, and when it did, there was an officer driving behind you. His heart was racing as he ran out of the house barefoot, not even caring as he ran out into the street to pull open your door, sighing heavily when he saw you sitting there. “What happened…?” He whispered, his hands landing on your shoulders as you climbed out of the car, and he couldn’t not notice how puffy and red your eyes were, but instead of answering, you fell against his chest, your arms wrapping tightly around him. 
The officer had to take some information, and once Minho had thanked him for escorting you home, he walked you into the house, pulling you down on the couch beside him. You told him what had happened, and he went through an array of emotions. Anger, sadness, panic, but most of all, he felt downright awful. 
“Why didn’t you tell me that’s what was happening?” He questioned as you laid against his chest, your fingers gripping tightly onto his shirt as your body continued to tremble. The fear that you had felt still hadn’t left, and he was sure it would be there for a while, and rightfully so. 
“Because I didn’t want you to get hurt trying to race to my job… I know how you are. I just wanted you to know that I love you…” You whispered back, your voice cracking as you started to cry once again. “I know that you love me, and I love you too, so much. I’m gonna drive you to and from work now… I can’t have anything happening to you… I’ve never been so scared in my life.” He murmured, his hand running soothingly up and down your back. Now that he knew you were safe, that fear and desperation that he had felt subsided but quickly turned to anger. He wanted nothing more than to hunt this guy down, to find out who it was and make him feel the same way you felt. You’re his everything, and he was going to do right by you no matter what it takes.
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He was in the studio with Chan and Jisung, his phone muted so as to not ruin the recording process. Maybe he had just become complacent in the fact that nothing had ever happened before when you were on your way home, but he never felt the need to have his phone turned on when you were at work or while he was at the studio and you knew that. You’d text him at some point if you had the chance and vice versa, but you both knew that once the two of you were home you’d have so much to talk about it would keep you up for hours. 
“I’m gonna head out now, Y/N should be home by now.” Changbin said, getting up from his chair and stretching his arms above his head. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” He was always the first to come in and get things started so that he could be the first to leave, not wanting you to be at home alone for too long. 
On his venture to the elevator, he finally pulled out his phone, noticing that his lockscreen was filled with missed calls from you from over an hour ago, and then a text from you from 25 minutes ago. You would never call him that much when he was in the studio… Unless there was an emergency… But there were never any emergencies. You worked right down the street from the house, what could possibly happen in that short amount of time? Unless there was an emergency in your job and you were trying to call him. 
Before even checking the text, he called you back, opting to take the stairs just to get out of the building faster as he held his phone up to his ear, waiting to hear your voice. “Binnie… I’m sorry I called so much… I’m okay now.” You whispered into your phone, and there was nothing truly relieving about what you said. You being okay now meant that you hadn’t been okay before and he wasn’t there to help you or even answer your calls when you needed him to. 
“What happened?” He urged, pushing through the exit door on the side of the building and coming out into the parking lot, slightly breathless from the amount of stairs he had just sprinted down in a matter of minutes. “Did you get hurt? Are you home? Where are you right now?” He needed more answers, but all he could hear were your shaky breaths over the line. “Baby… Talk to me, please.” 
He was getting more panicked the longer you stayed silent, and he could hear you softly sniffling as if you were crying. “I’m home… Not hurt… An officer escorted me home. I’ll tell you about it when you get in… Okay? I don’t want to talk about it when I’m by myself…” 
When he finally made it home and came through the door you were waiting for him right beside it, your cheeks stained with tear streaks, and you crashed into him as your body shook with uncontrollable sobs. “Shh… It’s okay… I’m here now…” He cooed, rubbing his hand soothingly over your back, although he still wasn’t sure what had truly happened, it must have been awful for you to be like this. “Tell me what happened…” 
As he sat and listened to you, all he could imagine was how scared you must have been. You were still shaking and you were already home, it must have been downright terrifying to be going through it at that moment. He wanted to know everything about what you possibly could have seen, what was the make of the car, what did the driver look like… He wanted to know every single detail. “Don’t try to find him… It’s not worth it…” You said shakily, holding tightly onto his hand. “It’s over now…” 
But it wasn’t over… Because you hadn’t seen the plate numbers, and all you could go off of was a vehicle description, and whoever this guy was… He was still out there. He could do it to someone else, he could come back and do it to you again… Changbin didn’t want to take those chances. For now though, he agreed, because he wanted to take care of you and make sure you were alright and make sure you felt safe. One thing he was certain about though… He’d never put his phone on silent again.
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“I’m in my car now, I’ll text you when I get in the house. I love you!” The text came in and Hyunjin read it quickly, smiling to himself as he sank deeper into the couch at the dorms. You hadn’t been together very long, at least not long enough to take that step to moving in together, but he liked to know exactly when you got off work and exactly when you made it home. The second text that he had gotten used to, that he had timed almost perfectly to come in at least 7 to 10 minutes after the first text meant that you were safe and he’d finally be able to call you on the phone and hear your voice. 
When it went past 15 minutes and that second text didn’t come in, his initial thought was that you had just forgotten. Maybe work was just really tiring today and you ended up laying on the couch and passing out… But that didn’t make sense either… You’ve had days like that before and you still texted him to let him know you made it home safe… You just weren’t able to call him because you had gone straight to bed right after. 
“Hey honey… Did you make it home? Text me as soon as you can… I’m getting worried.” He quickly typed out the message, dropping his phone onto his lap as he nervously watched his screen. There were some nights that you’d stop at the store or the gas station on your way home, but even then, you’d text him beforehand that you planned on going there before going home, and then you’d text him when you made it to whatever destination you were headed to. 
After 5 minutes of you still not responding he couldn’t take it anymore, dialing your number quickly and heading to the front door. You had never gone this long without answering him, and you certainly wouldn’t have ignored a phone call from him. He even had his own special ringtone in your phone so you’d know it was him. Something must have happened, and his mind immediately jumped to the worst. 
“What’s going on?” Chan asked as he turned the corner from the kitchen, watching Hyunjin pull on his shoes. “You’re heading out?” Hyunjin never left this late at night, he’d usually already be in his room talking on the phone with you, his giddy voice heard through the walls, giving Jisung and Changbin perfect ammunition to tease him with the next morning. 
“Y/N hasn’t texted me to let me know she made it home… She didn’t answer my text or my call…” Hyunjin said, frantically looking around the room as if he was missing something, but it was just his phone which was still in his hand. He felt like a chicken running around with his head cut off, but the panic seemed reasonable at this point. “Can you drive me to her place?” Hyunjin asked, his eyes silently pleading with his hyung to say yes. 
“I’m sure she’s fine. She’s probably just stuck in-” 
“No! She lives in a residential area… Her work is only a couple blocks away… She doesn’t have to go through traffic! Something happened!” Hyunjin shrieked, running his hands through his hair. “Look, if you’re not going to take me to her house, fine… I’ll catch a cab or something. But I need to be there. I need to make sure she’s alright.” 
So Chan relented, grabbing his keys off the hook and following Hyunjin out the door, trying his best to keep up with the younger guy who seemed to be racing against time as he ran down the hall to the stairs. 
In Hyunjins hurry to leave the dorms, he had forgotten to grab the key you had given him to get into your house, but he knew you weren’t home yet. The lights weren’t shining through the blinds in the window, there were no lights on at all. Your dog was still barking at the front door as he and Chan sat on your front porch. But what really gave away that you weren’t home was the fact that your car wasn’t parked out front. 
Every single set of headlights that came around the bend had Hyunjin standing up, checking to see if it were you only to dejectedly sit back down as the car sped past. You still hadn’t texted him back and his heart continued to sink deeper and deeper into the pit of his stomach the longer the silence lasted. 
Two sets of headlights came around, both of them lighting up the street, and this time Hyunjin didn’t even bother to stand up, his head dropping back down to stare at his phone screen as he expected them to drive right by like the other cars did… Until the car in front parked right in front of your house, and he realized that the car that had been driving behind was a cop car. 
He pushed himself up off the stairs, tripping over his feet as he ran down to meet you outside of your car, practically pulling you out of it once your seatbelt was unlatched. “Oh my baby… What happened?!” He cried, his eyes already welling up as he looked you over, checking for any sign of injury or harm, but all he could see was that you had been crying, you were still crying. “Baby…?” His voice lowered a little more as he looked at you with worry filled eyes, his bottom lip jutting out. 
“I am going to need some information. Your license and your phone number.” The cop said, and Hyunjins eyes widened. Did you get into an accident? Your car didn’t look damaged or dented, and you’d have surely called him if something like that did happen. He watched as you handed over your license to the officer, your hands trembling and your breaths shallow and uneven. “If something like that ever happens again, if you see that car or the driver, just call that number…” The officer handed you a tiny white card and gave you a sympathetic smile. “You’re okay, everything is gonna be okay.” 
He was more confused than ever now as he watched the officer climb back in his car, but he didn’t take the time to watch him drive away, quickly grabbing your bag and then leading you up to your house. “I’m sorry… Sorry for worrying you…” You croaked out as you kicked your shoes off and dropped down onto the couch, fresh tears spilling down your cheeks. 
“No… Don’t apologize…” Hyunjin squatted down in front of you, grabbing both of your hands and giving them a light squeeze. “The cop followed you home… What happened? Why?” He questioned, kissing the back of your hands before cupping your cheeks, brushing away your tears with his thumbs. 
“I was… followed home… I had to go all the way around… And they kept following me. They blinded me with their high beams and… I called the cops. I didn’t know what to do… I drove back up to work…” You explained, your breaths coming out more heavy, your words broken up by loud sobs as your head fell forward. “I was so scared, Hyunjin…” 
He didn’t say anything, instead he scurried up onto the couch, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you onto his lap, his hand moving up to the back of your head to bury your face in the crook of his neck. Hot tears fell against his skin as he rocked you, whispering I love you’s as he held you close against him. 
There wasn’t much he could do, it had already happened, it’s not like he would have been able to stop it. Now all he could do was try to fight that fear, to make you feel safe again. It wouldn’t be easy, but nothing worth fighting for was ever easy. “I’m moving in… I don’t want you to be alone. Text me when you get off work and I’ll get a ride down there just so I can ride with you back home. This’ll never happen again, I swear.”
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The problem with being out of the country for tours was the fact that he couldn’t bring you with him. Not only was it protocol from his staff members and management themselves, but your work didn’t really allow you that much time off. Whenever he was away, the two of you depended on texts, calls, and video chats to talk to each other, and with him being so far away, he liked to know everything. He wanted minute by minute updates on how your day was going and whether you made it to and from work safely. The guys would always tease him and say he’s being a little redundant, but there’s nothing wrong with wanting to make sure the person you love is okay. 
Your work schedule was never consistent either, which sometimes made it hard for Jisung to relax. Sometimes you’d get off work at 8pm, and other times you wouldn’t even be leaving the building until 11pm. It just depended on how much you had to do, and that would leave him restless, waiting for your text to come in to let him know you were on your way home. 
Tonight seemed to be a late night, and even though he wasn’t back at the house waiting for you, he couldn’t help but anxiously look over at his phone every couple seconds to see if your text had come in. He was about to start a live stream, it was already 10:40pm where you were, and there hadn’t been a single text yet, so he decided to text you. 
“Hey pookie bear, I’m about to start the live. You can still text me to let me know when you get off and please let me know when you get home. I love you so so so much!! I can’t wait to be back home with you!” He quickly sent the text before setting his phone down to the side to start the stream, trying his best to shake the nerves so he could turn on the camera. 
15 minutes into the stream his phone started vibrating. It wasn’t a text, it was a phone call coming in, and one glance over had him reading your name. Maybe you hadn’t read his text, but you usually didn’t call him during a stream, and you rarely ever called him when you were on your way home, and he still hadn’t texted him… Something must be wrong. He looked to the staff member who seemed just as confused on what to do, but he decided to answer it anyway. He wasn’t going to just let it go to voicemail. 
“Sungie… Baby…” Your voice came through softly, slightly muffled by the sound of the car engine humming in the background. “I love you so much… You mean the world to me, and you’re so special, you’re so amazing at everything you do… And I’m just… I’m so lucky that you’re my boyfriend, and I really wish I could spend the rest of my life with you… I just wanted you to know that. I have to go now though… I’ll text you if I can… Love you…” 
Now, Jisung was rarely ever stunned into silence, but this call had him staring blankly at the staff behind the camera who hadn’t heard anything. The call ended so quickly, but you were clearly panicking, you were crying, and he had never felt so hopeless in his life. He was thousands of miles away, and now you weren’t answering any of his calls. “The fans are wondering where you went…” The staff member said, but how was he supposed to worry about the fans when you were clearly in trouble, or hurt, or both. 
“I don’t know if I can… I…” Jisung stammered, running his hands over his face, feeling his palms get dampened with the tears that had started to fall. “Y/N is in trouble and I really need to try to get a hold of her… I can’t get back on like this… I’m scared.” He explained, but the staff member rolled his eyes, coming over with a box of tissues and setting it down in front of Jisung before flicking back on the camera. 
He didn’t have a choice it felt, but once the camera was off and the stream was over, he’d be having a long talk with the managers about the staff member who clearly wasn’t concerned with anything but himself. For the time being, he pretended to read comments off his phone as he stared at the text screen, waiting for you to say something, anything, to let him know that you were okay. 
It felt like forever, but in actuality, it was only another 10 minutes before another one of your texts came in. “I’m home now… A cop followed me home to make sure I’d be okay. I don’t want to worry you, it’s over with now, but I know that you’ll still ask, but I was followed home… I’ll explain everything when I get the chance to, but right now I just want to take a shower and go to bed. I love you… I can’t wait to see you either.” 
The text wasn’t in any way helpful, it actually made him feel nauseous, knowing that he wasn’t there when you had clearly been through something so traumatic that it made you feel like you had to call him just to say goodbye. The stream was still going, but he couldn’t be bothered to focus on it anymore, his attention solely on his phone screen as he continued to read and reread the message. He couldn’t keep up the act though, and once he had fully processed what he read, he looked to the camera. “I have to go now, there’s an emergency. I’m sorry… Please be safe, STAY. I love all of you.” 
As soon as the camera was off and the live stream ended, the staff member was pissed, but Jisung was just as angry. He was angry at himself, angry at the guy who was now coming closer to grab the laptop who had selfishly forced him to continue to live stream. “This is ridiculous. I’m sure the managers are gonna be real happy, especially ending a stream like that. I can only imagine the rumors that’ll come up.” 
Jisung didn’t care about any of that though, all he cared about was you. He pushed himself up out of the chair and headed to his hotel room door, pulling it open and motioning for the staff member to leave. “There is an emergency, and my girlfriend being terrified after being followed home when she was leaving work isn’t ridiculous. She’s terrified and I’m not there to physically comfort her and the last thing I want to do is a fucking live stream pretending that everything is all sunshine and rainbows. So get out, I have to call her.” 
Since you were okay, Jisung couldn’t exactly use your fear as a reason to leave the tour early, much to his disappointment. He wanted you to come out to be with him though, even if only for a couple days to help get your mind off of what had happened, but of course, you were still needed at work and your job really didn’t care that you had gone through something like that… Which again, made Jisung hate your job more than he already did. 
The distance seemed to feel so much further after what happened though, and there was nothing that would make him fully relax until he got home. For now though, you both agreed to stay on the phone with one another whenever you were driving, even if he was on a stream or in the middle of a concert, he’d stop everything he was doing to make sure you made it work and back home safe without something like this happening for a second time, and that agreement carried on even when he got home from tour… And now when you got home and he was there, he’d be waiting for you at the front door with open arms. That fear wouldn’t just stick with you, but it stuck with him too… The fear of losing you, of not knowing what to do… He never wanted either of you to feel that way again.
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Your schedule was erratic to say the least, there was never a set time to you getting off, and Felix, being the sunshine that he is, trusted that you’d get home safe without any problems every single night that you did work. That’s why he didn’t expect you to call him or text him, he just believed that everything would be fine, and when you did get home, you’d let him know all about your day as he sat beside you on the couch. 
Tonight was no different, other than the fact that he was staying at the dorms because he had to head out early for a music video shoot the very next morning. You knew about this, and while you both hated being away from each other, you understood that his work was demanding, and sometimes it demanded that he be away from you for long periods of time. Instead of talking about your days in person tonight, you both had agreed on video calling each other, which was something that he was excitedly awaiting. 
When his phone started to buzz, he jumped off the couch and ran to his bedroom, shutting the door and locking it before answering and flopping down on his bed, a smile spread across his face as he waited to hear your usually cheerful greeting. “Felix…” You gasped out his name, and the happiness that he had expected to hear wasn’t there at all. He immediately went into panic mode, sitting upright on his bed and holding his phone closer to his ear. “I…I’m being followed, I don’t know what to do… I already drove past the house and… They’re still following me. They almost drove right into me… Felix I’m scared… What do I do?” 
You were audibly crying which had his own tears on the brink of falling over the edge, his fingers gripping the sheets tightly as his leg bounced over the side of the bed. “Hang up, angel… Call the police. You have to call the cops, right now… Okay?” He urged, or, moreso, demanded you to do. He hated the fact that he told you to hang up, but he knew that there was nothing he could do from where he was at right now. 
“Y-Yeah… Okay… I love you.” Was how the call ended, not even having the opportunity to say it back. He couldn’t sit still, adrenaline was coursing through his veins, and he wanted to go to you, he wanted to go to your apartment and wait for you there just to know that you made it home safe. The worst part was that he didn’t even know where you were going right now, he should have asked, but he didn’t want to waste anymore time which was essential to you and your safety at that moment. 
He couldn’t even stand to be cramped in his room that felt a little bit too small right now, walking out into the main room where the guys were sitting, and as if his emotions were like a cloud that had hit all of them at once, their heads lifted to look at him, questioning the tension that was radiating off of him in waves. “Y/N is being followed… Fuck! I don’t even know where she’s at right now… And she’s on the phone with the cops… I can’t call her…” He ranted, his hands running anxiously through his hair. 
“Do you want to drive out there to her apartment to make sure she makes it home? I can drive you there.” Minho offered, and Felix looked around the room once before nodding his head in agreement, shuffling over to the door and pulling on the first pair of shoes he could find. “I’m sure she’ll be okay. She’s a smart girl, she probably went back to her work.” His hyung tried his best to instill comforting thoughts, but Felix couldn’t stop thinking the worst. 
“Why would anyone follow her? Why would someone try to scare her like that? They could have caused her to get in an accident! What if they were trying to hurt her?!” Felix continued to ramble, and there was truly nothing that anyone could say to get him to think otherwise, not until he saw you again and made sure that you were truly okay. 
Just as Minho pulled up outside the apartment building, you were pulling into your parking spot, followed by an officer who parked a little further away. You seemed to be in a daze when you climbed out of the car, not even noticing that Felix and Minho were right there. Your keys jingled at your side from how much you were shaking, and he hated seeing you this way. He hated to know that someone, some stranger, had caused you to get like this. 
“Angel…” Felix blurted out, causing you to jump and drop your keys, which he rushed over to pick up off the ground before you could even begin to bend over to grab them. “You’re alright?” He questioned, holding you at arms length to check you over, and once he saw that you were okay, other than the crying, he pulled you against his chest. “You’re alright. You’re safe now…” He cooed, not even wanting to let you go for a minute to get out of the street and walk you into the apartment. 
“It was awful… I’ve never been more scared… My hands were shaking… I never use my phone while I’m driving… I couldn’t even focus… I thought I’d crash…” You choked out, your face still buried in his shirt as he continued to pet his hand over your hair. “He… He flashed his headlights at me… And I wasn’t going to stop… I just kept going… And I was scared my gas would run out and…” 
Felix shushed you, not wanting you to continue reliving those moments, at least not right now. You were safe with him, you were okay, although the mention of the headlights had him remembering a news report he had seen a while back about what that sometimes meant and it made him sick to his stomach. “You’re such a smart girl, angel… You did great. I’m gonna stay with you tonight, and all day tomorrow. I’ll head to the set the next day. I’m gonna get you one of those dash cameras… I gotta make sure my angel is safe, always.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead, giving you a soft sympathetic smile. “Let’s get inside, get you something to drink, and then we can lay down and cuddle for the rest of the night… How does that sound?”
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“What time do you think you’re getting off tonight?” Seungmin asked from the back room, the stylist working around his phone that he had held up to his ear. Hearing your voice always helped calm his nerves before he did an interview, although he’d never tell anyone else that. 
“Not sure… It’s a late night tonight. I’ve got a bunch of stuff to do when I finish actually working.” You answered dejectedly. Seungmin hated how much your job seemed to overwork you, and it wasn’t just that, but they didn’t even show any sort of appreciation for the things that you did. There was no raise in your near future, although Seungmin would always be the first one demanding that you get one whenever you brought it up. No one even thanked you, it’s like they simply expected it of you, which pissed him off. 
“You know that I’d take care of you. You don’t have to stay there.” He reminded you, and he heard your tired chuckle, one that usually meant that you wanted to take him up on the offer, but you couldn’t take him up on the offer either, and that’s why he never pushed the issue any further. “I’m doing an interview, but you know the number for the staff if there’s an emergency, right?” You hummed in agreement, and he sighed quietly. “Text me as soon as you get off work and as soon as you get through the front door. Okay?” 
“Alright. I love you.” You whispered, and you couldn’t see it, but his cheeks raised and turned a light shade of pink, his heart fluttering at those three words. You were the only person that could ever make him get like this. “I gotta get back to work. I can’t wait to hear about the interview tonight.” 
“Mm… I’ll tell you all about it. Don’t overwork yourself… And don’t play your music too loud in the car, you won’t be able to hear anything.” He preemptively scolded you, and he knew that you were rolling your eyes, but you always played your music a little bit too loud… Something that worried him when he knew you were driving home alone at night. He wished that he could be there waiting for you when you got home, but he’d be there soon enough, and that’s what was going to get him through the interview. 
About 30 minutes into the interview, Seungmin saw one of the staff members bring their phone up to their ear, their mouths immediately falling as they listened to whatever it was that was going on. Seungmin was observant, but he wouldn’t have thought anything of it if the member didn’t make direct eye contact with him before walking further away from the interview set. 
None of the other guys seemed to notice, and neither did the interviewer, they were all still talking and goofing off, making it harder for Seungmin to even try to hear what was being said. “I’m not feeling too well, can I have a minute?” He said, still staring at the staff member who seemed to be on the phone still. The guys all turned to look at him, but he didn’t have time to answer their questions, not when he had his own that he needed answers to. 
By the time he got up and made his way over to the staff member, the call seemed to be over, but the girl who had answered the call seemed to still be a little shaken up. Whatever it was, it must be bad. Once she noticed he was standing there, her head was already shaking, her mouth opening and closing as if she didn’t know what to say, which only annoyed Seungmin. If it was serious, he wanted to know right now. “She called… Y/N called… She was crying and panicking and… She said she was being followed and… She said she’s on her way back to her work now and she’s calling the police… I told her to call them…” 
Seungmins mind was immediately going through different scenarios, a multitude of different reasons for something like this to be happening. He was trying to be as rational as possible, which was quite hard to do when the worry was setting in and he felt absolutely helpless as your boyfriend. “Good… Good… That’s good…” He rambled, his eyes squeezing shut as he tried to think of what to do. “Let them know that I need to go… I need to get up to her work right now…” 
There was only a short list of people that would follow you and have you panicking so badly. It was either a crazed fan that wanted to get to Seungmin or wanted to hurt you for being with him, or some absolute psychotic stranger. Crazily enough, it would be better if it were a fan honestly, at least Seungmin would know the motive and knew that most of them were hopefully not dumb enough to do something crazy in a public space such as your work. If it were a stranger… He didn’t know what they were capable of, and that scared the hell out of him. 
It felt like he was racing against time, and in that race, the staff member that was driving seemed to catch every single red light. It was aggravating, it was infuriating, and what was worse was the fact that you still hadn’t answered any of his texts which he had been sending out every five seconds, and the only reason it was taking that long was because he needed to type them out. 
By the time he got to your work, the cop was just pulling up. You had been sitting out in your car in front of the store for that long just waiting for an officer, and that too bothered him to no end. What if something bad had happened? Why didn’t the officer come quicker? He didn’t even wait for the car to come to a complete stop before jumping out and running over to your passenger door and knocking on the window. 
“Excuse me!” The officer shouted, rushing over to Seungmin, but you quickly rolled down the window, exclaiming that he was your boyfriend and unlocking the door so he could climb in. Of course, the officer needed to take down some information which seemed to take even longer when all Seungmin wanted to do was get back to the house with you and comfort you. 
“I didn’t want to ruin the interview…” You murmured as you put the car in drive, slowly taking off and heading back down the street. “I didn’t think they’d tell you… I’m sorry for making you leave.” If you weren’t driving, Seungmin would have kissed you to get you to stop thinking that way. An interview definitely wasn’t more important than your safety. “Are the guys mad?” 
Seungmin sighed, his head leaning back against the headrest but turned in your direction so he could look at you. Your knuckles had turned pale from how tight you were gripping the steering wheel, and your body was still shaking. You shouldn’t be driving like this. “This would be quite a stupid thing to get mad about, wouldn’t it? If you need me, I’m always going to run to you, before anything else. You’re my priority first and foremost.” He explained, and you nodded your head slowly, shakily sniffling as your bottom lip began to tremble. “I love you… That’s why I ran to you. She didn’t even have to tell me what was going on… As soon as she looked at me and I saw that look on her face, I asked her what happened. I’m so sorry you had to go through that by yourself… But never again…” 
You shook your head, your face scrunching up as you gasped sharply. “I still have to drive at night to get home from work. I… I don’t know if I can… Just the thought of it…” Your head dropped as you came to a stop sign, your hands quickly wiping the tears from your cheeks, and he wished he could have done it for you. “I’ve never… I don’t ever… God… Seungmin I’m so scared… What if they do it again?” If it were to happen again, if the same person were to come after you… Seungmin wouldn’t hold back. They were messing with the most precious thing in his life, and the fact that they had gotten away with it now, they should count themselves lucky. But Seungmin wouldn’t allow it to happen again, he wouldn’t allow you to be put in a situation where it could happen again. “I know you, for some reason, feel like you need to stay at your job. I’m not going to take that away from you… But I don’t want you driving at night by yourself again… Ever again. I’ll have one of the staff members come pick you up. Or I’ll have them drop me off so that I can ride with you. Either way… If you truly want to keep working there on that shift… You’re not driving alone at night anymore. I love you, and I don’t think I’d be able to live if anything ever happened to you. I’m going to make sure you’re safe. Always.”
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He was performing tonight on Music Bank, and you had told him that you’d try to make it home in time to catch his performance. Of course, he told you it would be okay if you didn’t, and that he didn’t want you rushing to get done and potentially getting hurt trying to get home too fast. He already had your TV set up to record their episode just in case you weren’t home in time to see it. 
Your break managed to come at just the time that he was getting done up by his stylist, sending you silly little selfies to try to make you feel better after you had told him about how awful and busy your day had been. “I’m hoping I’ll be done soon, and then I can get home and change into my pajamas before the show starts.” 
Even though it made him beyond happy to know that you so eagerly wanted to see him perform, he wanted you to be safe, and he appreciated you regardless of whether you caught the show or not, just the fact that you wanted to rush so you could catch it was enough for him. “You have time… So please, take it. You won’t miss anything anyway, you’ve already seen us perform it multiple times in the practice room.” 
He could sense your eye roll just from staring at his phone screen, the way his message was left on read a couple seconds before the three dots appeared to show you were typing back. “Yeaaaah…. But I still want to watch it. I’m ending my break early just so I can get done faster. I love youuuuu. Hugs and kisses mwah mwah!!” 
How could you be so cute even over text? God, he loved you, and now it only made him worry more about how fast you’d be driving to try to get back home. He quickly typed out his last response. “Please drive the speed limit. I love you most. Seriously… Be safe.” 
15 minutes before the show was about to start, he got another text, and he quickly grabbed his phone from off the vanity table, his heart swelling when he read your message. “I’m fast as fuck baybeeee!!! I’m gonna make it home in time to see your performance. I might not catch the interview before hand though :(“ 
He chuckled to himself, hiding his phone from the guys as he texted you back. “That’s alright, but now that I know you’ll be watching, I’ll do so much better. Get home safe baybeeee! I love you a bunch!” He never thought he’d be this sappy, but with you, it didn’t even make him cringe. He just loved you so damn much, it was like you alone were making his earth spin. 
It didn’t take you that long to get home, he knew the drive from your work to your house by heart, and he was sure that you’d be able to make it home just by the end of the interview. His mind was soaring, thinking of ways that he could do facial expressions or certain moves just for you, things that only you would recognize that you’d know were for you only. It was one of his favorite things to do, giving you something to look for while he was dancing, and then coming home to hear from you if you actually caught it. 
As he stepped out on stage, he found his camera and smiled at it, giving a small wave to the lens before getting into place. This performance would be for you, entirely for you. He couldn’t wait for you to see it. 
He was sweaty, breathless, but excited as he rushed back off to the dressing room, grabbing his phone off the vanity and getting even more giddy when he saw the missed phone call and voicemail from you. It was probably you telling him just how amazing he was and that you had caught the little hand sign and wink that he had done for you. 
Dropping down into his seat, he played the voicemail, full volume because honestly, he didn’t care if the guys heard. You’d probably be complimenting all of them as well in the message. “Jeongin!” Your voice sounded through his speakers, and he wasn’t used to you saying his name like that, especially with that tone, and he immediately perked up in his seat. The sound of your voice had already gotten the attention of the other guys in the room and they had all begun to crowd around Jeongins chair as they listened with him. “Fuck… Fuck fuck… What do you want?!” You whimpered, the sound of your obvious crying and clear panic had Jeongin on edge, his eyes widening as he looked up at Chan. “I love you… And I’m really sorry I didn’t get to catch your performance but I know you and the guys did amazing. Uhm… Shit… Okay… I’m being followed and… And I have to go but… I just wanted you to know that I love you, okay? Don’t forget that.” The kissy sound at the end of the call wasn’t how Jeongin remembered it sounding, but he couldn’t even focus entirely on that. 
You were being followed, and instead of calling the cops first, you called him. Why would you call him? How bad was it? The call came in almost 10 minutes ago. “Call her… See if she answers.” Chan urged, but Jeongin couldn’t seem to get his fingers to move, he couldn’t even seem to breathe evenly as his mind went into a frenzy. “Someone call her! Minho, Changbin, you get him to Y/N’s apartment, someone go find one of the security and go see if they can find out where she is.” 
Minho was on the phone in seconds, dialing your number as he and Changbin ushered a seemingly shellshocked Jeongin out of the room. He was shaking, his phone still tightly gripped in his hand as he robotically followed behind the guys. “Everything is gonna be okay. I’m like… 99% sure she’s okay.” Changbin said, patting Jeongins back as he climbed into the back seat of Changbins car. 
“What about the other 1%?” Jeongin whispered anxiously from the back as Changbin climbed into the car. The two older guys both turned to look at Jeongin, confused about the question, but his hand slapped against the seat beside him. “What about the 1%?! You said you were 99% sure that she’s okay… So what about the other 1%?!” 
Changbin took a deep breath, looking to Minho who only shook his head as he continued trying to call your phone that was going to voicemail as well. “Don’t think about the other 1%. She’s fine. Okay?” 
Jeongin was completely zoned out the entire ride to your house, unable to think of anything except your voicemail. He had never heard you sound so scared and that fear was contagious, he was terrified for you, with you. He didn’t even realize how long Changbin had been driving until the car came to a stop, and he finally looked out the window to see that it was parked right outside of your house. 
The light from the TV was flickering through the blinds, and without a word or a look back, he climbed out of the car and ran to your door, his fist coming down harshly against it. He immediately regretted it though, wondering if the sudden loud knocking would frighten you more, but the door swung open and he saw you, illuminated by the light of the room behind you, already dressed in your pajamas, but your eyes were still puffy and your nose was still sniffling. You had been crying still. 
“Innie…” You croaked out his name, and he quickly pulled you into his arms, inhaling the scent of you, simply wanting to hold you after being worried for so long that he had lost you. “I’m sorry I missed it… I was watching it though… Just now…” 
He sighed softly, shaking his head as he tilted your back with his finger, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I’m not worried about that. God… I’m just… I’m happy that you’re okay. I don’t know what I’d do if something had happened to you…” But he cut himself off, biting his bottom lip to keep from pessimistically rambling about all of the awful things that could have happened. “You’re okay though? Not hurt?” 
You shook your head in response, giving him a small smile. “Just a little shaken up… You’re here now though… I feel a lot better.” You were acting so strong, and he knew that you were only doing it because you could see how scared he had been. “I shouldn’t have called you and worried you like that… It was a… Just in case call… So that you’d know that-” 
He kissed you again, stopping you from continuing that thought. “I’m glad you called me…” He kissed you again, his hands cupping your cheeks now as he brushed his thumbs along your dampened cheeks. “But I want you to call the police first if anything like that happens again… I really want you to move to the morning shift so that nothing like that happens again…” You nodded your head slowly as your sniffles subsided until they weren’t heard anymore. “And I’m gonna get my permit… I’m gonna learn how to drive, I’ll have the guys teach me… I don’t want you driving by yourself anymore. I’ll be your personal chauffeur. Until then… I’ll just ride with you and wait up at your work until you get off.” You scoffed, but he wasn’t joking, and you quickly realized that. “You don’t know how worried I was… I wouldn’t be able to live anymore if you were gone.”
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chronicbeans · 3 months
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Platonic Alastor x Maladaptive Daydreamer Reader
Hehe not me self-projecting again! Anyways, these are kinda based on my own experiences, but I'm trying to make them more generalized.
TW: Maladaptive daydreaming, escapism, dissociation, mentions of depression and anxiety, brief mentions of compulsive behavior/OCD, invasion of privacy, manipulation, peer pressure, yandere-ish behavior (I believe he defaults to those behaviors, no matter the type of relationship), mention of cannibalism (this is Alastor we're talking about...), Alastor is a shitty toxic friend in this
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• He's absolutely fascinated by the way your mind works. Even before he knows what is going on, or begins to get close to you, he can tell you are an interesting person. The way you look so distant, like your mind is checked out and flying to far off places without you, is something he hasn't seen before. He wants to pick and prod at your brain to see what's going on.
• He doesn't want to do so the easy way, though. No. Instead, he wants to drag out this process for as long as possible, and make sure you twist and squirm all the while. He loves to make people uncomfortable, after all! That's his specialty, in his opinion, besides his radio show.
• He'll start off with introductions, of course, which is probably when he first got interested in you. That dreamy look isn't so easy to see from a distance, after all. The second he looked into your eyes while shaking your hand, though, it became obvious. How hadn't he seen it before? If he saw this look when he first entered, he would've talked to you first out of the crew at the Hazbin Hotel. Well, besides Charlie... But, that's just because she owns the place.
•The uncomfortable prodding starts in an instant. One of his first questions after getting your name is not "What made you want to come to the hotel?" or "What can you provide to help the hotel?" It's more like "How did you die?", "What are your major vices?", and "What sin have you committed to be brought to Hell?" He wants to test the waters. See what he can get away with without completely scaring you off. If you run away and avoid him, it'd be harder to learn what he wants, and make you uncomfortable while doing so.
• Regardless of whether or not you answer, you are probably a little put off from him. Not enough to completely avoid him, since you can see how some of those questions might help him help the hotel, but enough to be uncomfortable... Which, in his opinion, is perfect!
• He's great at hiding, so if you start noticing him mentioning things you thought were private, you really shouldn't be surprised. He can, quite literally, hide in the shadows at times. He quickly takes notes of your little habits, including ones you might be embarrassed about.
• He may watch you pacing around your room, mumbling to yourself as if you are playing pretend all alone. Or, maybe, he's hiding over your shoulder while you're writing down some elaborate storyline. Perhaps he's watching you in plain sight, seeing you make a bunch of odd facial expressions at seemingly nothing. He may not know why you do this, but he wants to. He would've suspected some sort of substance use, considering it's Hell. Lots of people do so. However, he's never seen you near anything that would cause such behavior. So, that's off his list, for now.
• So, step 2 of his plan begins! As his good ol' pals Husk and Niffty to try befriending you! Or, at the very least, get information from you that you aren't comfortable telling him. Then, have them report back to him with their findings. Of course, Husk seems agitated by the request, but obliges. Niffty seems more than happy to do as he asks, though. A happy worker is a good worker, so he has more hope in Niffty getting the big story than Husk.
• Surprisingly, though, he's proven wrong. The most Niffty got was your fashion sense, favorite types of stories, and that you are very "quiet". Yes, the fashion and types of stories were new to him... But what he seems important, the reason you act so oddly, isn't there. Husk, however, was able to get a lot more out of you, somehow.
• Husk mentions you talking to him, one night, after he saw you skipping oddly down the hall and pass the bar where he was cleaning the glasses before closing it for the night. You seemed extremely embarrassed to have been seen, mentioning that you thought he was asleep already. He then just, politely asked a few questions...? And got answers? How?
• Alastor immediately demands answers, only for Husk to reply "I don't know how to describe it like they did! Most I understood is that they daydream too much. Seems like it's a constant thing going on. They like to pace and prance while doing so, sometimes, but don't like getting caught."
• Now it begins to make more sense... the writing, the talks about stories with Niffty, the prancing and pacing... and most importantly, that dreamy, distant look you have. He can even see why you'd make odd expressions. You're reacting to your own thoughts... He doesn't understand it. He's never heard of anything like this before, especially during his time as a human, but he can tell one thing for certain: You must be his friend, now. Whether you like it or not.
• You are so different from everyone else he's met, you see, and he loves things that go against the norm. Now, while you may or may not be considered normal or not too different by others, you're different and abnormal to him. You somehow succeed in both being polite, smart, and funny to mess around with, while also barely being able to pay attention to the world around you. He's always thought that those two things were mutually exclusive. How can you learn when you can't stop being in your own head? How can someone be polite and not listen? The funny part, though... He can kind of see that. He finds surprising you be sneaking up behind you and tapping your shoulder funny every now and again. Nevertheless, you are going to be his friend.
• Soon enough, you notice his behavior changing, a bit. Less following you around, less vaguely threatening words, and more... quiet. It's eerie, coming from him. However, you also notice him trying to talk to you about stories and books he's heard and read. Even things he's heard during his human life, such as Creole folktales and other stories he's heard in New Orleans, Louisiana back in the 1920s-1930s. It's a bit like a completely different side to him you never expected to see, and never really wanted to, but you aren't really complaining. It's better than him deciding to terrorize you for fun and him asking invasive questions...
• A little more time passes and he decides to ask about small habits, disguising them as him just now noticing those habits, when he's probably noticed them while spying on you months prior. Nothing too extreme. Mostly just your expressions, how it seems like your attention is somewhere else... Nothing like your pacing, prancing, or acting. He wants to establish that he knows about these tiny little things, and now that you're more comfortable with him, you're much more likely to answer. That way, once he moves onto the bigger, more personal questions, you'll already have been eased into feeling comfortable with it.
• Eventually, you get to the point where you feel comfortable calling him a friend. He's already considered you one since that conversation with Husk, but it's a start. Now, he's gotten the lovely privilege of being able to know more about what's going on in that lovely little brain of yours... well, "little" brain is definitely an understatement. From how you describe your imagination, he'd be led to believe your mind must be as vast as the Library of Alexandria.
• Vast worlds, complicated plotlines, complex characters... you talk of odd tales you've created, all in your brain. Ones you've had in your mind for years, some you came up with on a whim, and others, still, that are still being developed. Stories that have been being created over the span of real life years, ones you started then dropped... All of which are being held in your head, with only a miniscule fraction of it being written onto paper. He's truly impressed, genuinely respecting your odd talent, as he sees it. You've perfected the craft of creativity, while he's perfected the art of talking to an audience. Even better, is that he got to learn whether or not his theory of you taking inspiration from stories you've heard was right. Which explains his sudden mentions of stories he's heard in life.
• Now... if only you'd let him tell some of your stories on his radio show! If you wouldn't like that, then he'd probably ask you to write something for his show. That way, it isn't as personal to you, and you wouldn't even need to be credited if you're embarrassed by it! He could just say a random listener sent it in, and he thought it'd be great to read, to show his appreciation for his adoring fans. The world simply must hear the greatness of your mind, dear, and he is not going to stop annoying politely asking you to write something until you do.
• Another thing he might try is to see if he can figure out why you partake in this little habit of yours. He's never heard of it, though he has asked some sinners and demons if they have. Be it Charlie, Angel Dust, some of the other overlords, or a friend of his we haven't seen or heard of, before. More modern sinners keep mentioning a thing called Maladaptive Daydreaming, describing it as a symptom of other mental health diagnoses... but that's the problem. That fits you, you've mentioned that you know of that and it fits you... but that's also just a symptom. Well, a few argue that it may be its own thing, but it is not an official diagnosis yet. So, for now, he wants to figure out why you do it.
• Is it depression? Anxiety? Do you really want to escape from something, and you're doing so by hopping into that little dream land of yours? Is it some sort of compulsion? You seem to not really be able to control it that well, after all, and others have mentioned links to OCD, as well as other disorders that can cause compulsions. Is it sheer, absolute, chronic boredom? Speak to him, dear! What is it? Do you even know? If not, he'll assume it's the boredom option... for now.
• He's obsessed with you, really. You're his friend, and he's very obsessive over them, in his own way. He is as far away from normal when it comes to showing real affection for others, which wouldn't be bad, if it weren't for the fact that a main part of it is him being absolutely suffocating when he's around. That, and he can be terrifying... He's the Radio Demon, after all! It's just worse for you than his other friends, though, because you are different. Being different is a really important thing for him, really, alongside being polite, smart, and funny. Not required, unlike the last three traits, but it makes you more likely to be his friend. You hit the lottery by achieving being all four, but it must be the worst lottery prize in the world.
• He holds the thought that you should just be friends with him. Now, you don't have to be... but, he'd prefer it. If you really want outside friends, sure! You just can't be friends with his other friends. He claims they'd "taint" you with how violent they can be. Plus, since he's friends with other cannibals, some of which do serve sinner and demon meat to others without telling them, he genuinely does worry about your safety and wellbeing if you met those specific friends of his. For your friends, he wants to meet them. He needs to in order to deem them worthy of being your friend, and to make sure it's not someone he knows and is friends with. You deserve perfection, and who knows perfection better than Alastor, yes? After all, he can see that you're perfect. That is more than enough evidence, dear.
• You're one of the few people who he doesn't mind having your attention not on him. Part of your charm, in his opinion, is your lack of attention. All he asks is that you tell him about a story of yours. What is going on in your head that's so important? Oh, a great war between this and that? A psychological horror? Cities beneath the sea? Tell him about it. He finds it fun! Especially if he can see any possible inspiration from events or other stories. He likes to hear your voice almost as much as he likes to hear his own, which you'll realize is more of a compliment than it might sound like, once you truly get to know him.
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✨Masterlist✨
This is the masterlist for The Californicationist's Tumblr & AO3 texts.
All works should be considered 18+ only. MDNI - no exceptions.
CALL OF DUTY
Novel-Length Works
Gunslinger Price/Reader - AO3 - 100k - Complete You open your home as a safehouse for the 141, and your relationship with John Price unfolds into an epic love story.
Guardian Konig/FemaleOC - AO3 - 45k - Complete Konig, inexplicably working with SpecGru, clears out a Konni base and finds a hostage with amnesia, only to fall hopelessly in love with her.
Guile & Guilt Soap/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - Complete Your best friend has warned you to stay far, far away from her younger brother — infamous party boy, Sergeant Johnny MacTavish. However, when she asks you to be her maid of honor in her wedding, you and Johnny end up closer than you ever expected.
The Sin-Eater Price/Reader - Co-Author: @vampirekilmer - AO3 - WIP Captain John Price is a loving husband, a dedicated soldier, and a good man. But, that’s not all he is. Underneath his controlled exterior lurks something dark, something hungry, and something wholly inhuman. You’re his only solace during his wrath, and only you can consume the sin from his shifts.
One-Shot Works
Gauntlet (Kinktober 2023) [External Post] Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 58k - Complete TW: too many to list here 😈 A collection of 30 kink-focused one-shots
Budapest Price/Reader - AO3 - 1.2k - Complete TW: major character death, explicit sex Captain John Price comes home to you a changed man.
Going Home Gaz/Nova - AO3 - 4.3k - Complete TW: explicit sex, voyeurism Gaz and Nova spend their leave together at his childhood home. This is set in the Gunslinger universe.
Gravitational Shift Price/FemaleOC - AO3 - 2k - Complete TW: Space AU, includes the Force from the Star Wars fandom, force-bond sex Captain Price senses a disturbance in the force, and when he bonds with her, he decides he's never letting go.
Ground & Pound Konig/FemaleOC - AO3 - 5.8k - Complete TW: NC/CNC, bondage, violence Konig's ex-girlfriend shows up to the base, and Konig loses his absolute mind over her...and takes things too far.
Growl Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.5k - Complete TW: pegging, femdom When you agreed to come over to John Price’s house for drinks, you had no idea it would escalate so damn swiftly.
The Orchard Price/Reader - AO3/Tumbr - 3.8k - Complete TW: CNC, primal play, bondage John Price chases you through the woods to make sure you learn your lesson.
The Fisherman's Knot Price/FemaleOC - AO3 - 2.9k - Complete ABO AU - Captain John Price rescues a pretty Alpha from a kayaking accident in his fishing cove, his body betrays his gentle nature.
The Honest Man Mace/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.5k - Complete TW: Breeding kink Mace tries to convince you to build a life with him again, especially if it means adding another baby into the mix.
The Missed Deadline Gaz/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 2.7k - Complete TW: Virginity loss You and Kyle had a virginity pact.
The Fourth of July Alex Keller/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 3.5k - Complete TW: Blow job You and Alex get a little carried away in the pool house.
The Fox & the Hound Soap/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 4.5k - WIP(?) TW: Literal porn, exhibition Your first porno shoot doesn't go exactly to plan. Your co-star, Johnny "Dangerous" MacTavish, sets his sights on you and makes you his personal project. (Labeled WIP because I'm considering a Chapter 02 moment).
The Green Light Price/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 1.8k - Complete TW: Dubcon/CNC John Price comes home with only one thing on his mind: you and those bright green panties. Even though you're sound asleep, he just can't stop himself.
The Dealer’s Choice 141/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 4.4k - Complete TW: Gangbang The 141 are stranded and you’re the safe house manager. You have fun playing strip poker.
The Simple Mistake Ghost/Soap - AO3 - 1.4k - Complete Soap and Ghost have to hide together, injured and desperate in a shelter until their rescue party arrives.
The Devil's Summer Konig/Named Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 3k - Complete TW: Rape, non-consent, assault, corpses, violence, named reader A tall, foreign stranger comes to town with his masked crew of bandits. They rob the train station and the bank, but the big one… he has his sights set on a different sort of prize: you.
The Advent Calendar Ghost/Soap - AO3/Tumblr - 1.9k - Complete Soap gave Ghost an advent calendar this year. It's a little more romantic than he realized.
The False Alarm 141/Reader - AO3/Tumblr - 1.9k - Complete TW: Gangbang Cleaning the pole in the firehouse was hard work, but someone had to do it. But, when your harness broke and you were left dangling there, free to use for a firehouse full of men… you were in charge of cleaning a lot more poles than you bargained for.
There’s more, but I ran out of room! I’m trying to figure out how to fix it. Sorry 😣
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awkwxrdapple · 2 years
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Who do I have to talk to to get streaming services like Netflix/Disney+/Amazon Prime to have a list of definite triggers for each episode of a show???
Tags contain sensitive stuff btw
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intersectionalpraxis · 4 months
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"women in sudan have to look up ways to prevent pregnancy by rape because of the RSF raping women......are we HEARING THIS" "please keep sudan in your prayers too their situation is terrifying and they need all the help and awareness" [source: @/ BISBAAS_ on X. 12/18/23.]
This has been going on for a very long time in Sudan. For those of you who were not aware, please do your research and stay informed. Sudanese women and young girls -have been disproportionately targeted and sexually violated and assaulted by militias. This is by far NOT an extensive reference list, but this is a start.
⚠️tw for sexual violence/rape⚠️
Rape by Sudan’s RSF militia used to ‘punish and terrorise’ warn rights experts
Women in Sudan facing a ‘tragedy’ of sexual violence as rape cases rise
Darfur: Rapid Support Forces, Allied Militias Rape Dozens
Sexual violence still a major threat as Sudan’s conflict grinds on
Vox did a short, detailed report on the history of Sudan's conflict for those also interested in learning more:
youtube
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