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#ugh. i’m obsessed with them. so so much

gimmeurtmi · 6 months

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a 2min Thing i’m obsessed with: when ot8 are standing in a line on stage and 2min are on opposite ends of the line then one min steps out of the line to say something to the other even though they’re so far apart. it’s usually seungmin that steps back first and minho follows him and they have their little moment like they’re in their own world where no one but them is there. 😭.

#2min #2min thoughts #it’s like their own lil signal since they evidently are not allowed to stand next to each other #so they’ll find other ways to make each other laugh :’)#the one from last night is adorable #but also the one from maniac where seung started crying #and also the one where it wasn’t a secret and seung was all hyung i think you like me #ugh. i’m obsessed with them. so so much

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techniiciian · 6 months

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@techieniician sent: 🧑‍🤝‍🧑

send a 👫 and I’ll write four headcanons I have about our muse’s relationship

for Matt, it was love at first introduction. stumbling into Techie's surveillance room is one of the best things to have ever happened to him, or so he will romantically tell Mitaka ( and anyone else who will listen ). even thinking or talking about him makes Matt get sappy and daydreamy.

they tested out what versions of their names to call each other. Techie often calls Matt just by his shortened name, though in private he'll call him Matthew with makes the blond nearly short circuit with joy each & every time. Matt, however, is able to have a bit of a longer list as he calls his sweet love Techie ( a nickname given to him by droids, as far as Matt knows ), Will ( though it's not his favorite ), Liam ( which is in his top three ), & Willaim. the latter is also only used in private.

after meeting Techie, Matt made it his cold to provide and care for the man in small ways. which means that now the ginger is the proud owner of many hand knitted blankets, scarfs, hats, sweaters, cardigans, & mitts. Matt is rather sneaky, though, as he makes sure to hold and sometimes wear the items for a bit so that when he gifts them they will smell like him.

Matt will blush each & every time Techie holds his hand. it makes him so happy that he can't do much else but be flustered with the biggest dopiest grin slapped across his face. the first time techie reached out & held his hand Matt almost fainted from joy.

if he had the resources & the time Matt would build Techie a garden / green house. the thought of flowers braided into those orange locks has Matt sighing. & Matt does his best to bring back the prettiest flowers he can find on his morning runs when he goes to the surface of Starkiller base. sometimes he'll weave them into crowns so he can place them on Techie's head.

they bond a lot over arts and crafts. often times they spend hours pouring into their hobbies together and talking. Matt tried to teach Techie to knit which ended in a scarf full of holes. Matt cherishes it & wears it on his morning runs. at the same time Techie taught Matt origami, but the only thing he's gotten down is the ninja stars that he uses to harass Kylo with.

#( they are SO SOFT )#( ugh i love them so much )#techienician #reports filed ( answered )#i knew from ‘hi i’m matt’ ( headcanons )#( also matt is obsessed with techies hair )#( he wants to touch it so badly )#( he wants to hold him in his arms and kiss his forehead )#( he wants to take him on picnics )#( matt's in big love )#the places between my fingers are right where yours fit perfectly ( techie & matt ; techienician )

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ew-selfish-art · 9 months

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Dpxdc AU: consultant groups can be used to outsource problems for companies so why not monarchies?

Danny is listening to the various eyeballs and ghosts chatter on about all the issues that he now has to oversee and advise and make so many freaking decisions on. It’s annoying that it all has to come down to his call because he was a dumb 14 year old who didn’t want his town to permanently live in the ghost zone.

Now 17, King of the Infinite, and a bit wiser to the world, Danny is doing his best to balance his teenage ambitions to not give a shit and his protective obsession to very much give a shit.

Sams parents are making her learn the family business and Tucker is trying to make this internship he’s got with a fancy tech company out of New Jersey into a career without college… so while they’re commiserating with Danny the idea comes up.

Earth has a shit ton of heroes. Like, ever since the Justice League *poofed* the GIW out of existence with the Meta human acts- more and more caped crusaders seemed to be coming out of the wood work. More villains too but still, more people who seemed wise to their abilities and morals. Danny has literally never taken an ethics class.

But rn, Eye-mothy and Eye-Bert are arguing over how Danny as King Phantom is supposed to tackle the problem of some fucking pool acting as a weird trade route with a cult and… ugh it’s just so boring but like also such a fucking problem. But… maybe it can be someone else’s issue.

Opening a portal, Danny escapes into space and gets to work finding the base of operations- Tucker had told him there was a new satellite after all and there’s no way it wasn’t connected to the hero orgs- and boom he flies into the Watchtower.

“Hey- are any of you guys willing to consult on some weird pools of ectoplasm in Pakistan? Green and glowing little lakes of bullshit and magic?” Danny asks into the meeting room of the JL regardless of their startled and alarmed exclamations.

“… I could consult on that.” A voice comes from the corner, and Danny recognizes him as one of the bat people. Or bird? The guy is in a lot of red and clearly wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting based on the way he’s propped in the corner. The room erupts in protest but Danny barely hears them through his excitement and focus on the dude.

“Great! I’ll have him back before the end of the day! Lets go Bird boy!” And with that, Danny grabbed the Bird, chucked them both through a portal back into his thrown room and begins to explain the way these eyeballs are totally trying to trap him into doing more work than he needs to do.

“What do I call you by the way? I’m Danny but you’ll probably hear them call me King Phantom.”

“I go by Red Robin, and honestly, I’ve been trying to get this shit taken care of for years.”

From there Tim becomes a regular consultant for King Phantom- the Bat Family is losing their minds with him constantly going to the land of the dead but also Constantine said not to piss off the king at all costs.

Danny is just thrilled that this dude has a shit ton of insight as well as business sense- like he could legit run the monarchy way better than him despite the fact that they’re the same age.

They end up working together for years, and even when there’s not an active issue at hand, Danny will meet up with the bird just to talk.

Sam and Tucker think they’re hilarious each time they ask if Danny’s proposed yet.

Tim has already planned their wedding but all of that information is in a folder more secured than the nuclear codes- Danny needs to ask him on a date first.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #Tim drake #dead tired #dc crossover #dp crossover #ehehehehe #also him just grabbing any random hero to help on any issue their power set might help to advise #danny outsourcing his issues is my favorite headcanon #boy wants to be helpful but also like is begging to just have one lazy Sunday #Tim drake is like ‘why would I not help run a monarchy in my spare time from running a Fortune 500 company and being a vigilante?’#tim drake is a menace #he’s what the eyeballs have nightmares about and they didn’t even think they could have nightmares

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kissitbttr · 4 months

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omgomgomg… a lil quickie w frat!miguel before his big game me thinks 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️

“do you think they have fries stall back in the booth? i want their seaweed one”

“my dick is literally inside you muñeca, and you’re talking about fries?!”

he has you pressed down against the locker room’s bench, where his teammates had already gone. snuck you in the moment he checked that the locker’s empty,

in which you were against at first, because it’s smelly and being in the boy’s locker room is disgusting. you told him that before. suggested to do it in the teacher’s lounge or library like you both always do it, where everyone is off to the game. but he couldn’t wait that long.

it has been pretty much a ritual for him and you to fuck before the game. something about being a good luck charm when he fucks you. especially when you look as good in your cheerleading uniform. that short skirt and skin tight top makes him go crazy. you can’t blame him.

“well i’m hungry! i only had that half of burger gloria shared with me and it wasn’t enough!” you protest with a huff, sliding your hands to his biceps,

he rolls his eyes, fingers running through his lightly dampen hair, stealing a kiss from you to get you to be quiet.

“i’ll get you everything they have there, muñeca, yeah? but now? i need you to shut up for a moment”

he hooks his arms underneath the back of your knees, circling them around his waist as he plunges deeper into you making you gasp at the sudden stretch, toes curling at the sensation

miguel smiles at your reaction, hoisting your skirt up just a bit more. “mierda.. you look absolutely beautiful, baby” he grunts, thrusting his cock a little bit faster,

you dig your finger tips into the skin of his arms as he fucks you, back arched deliciously as he watches your tits bounce inside the material of your top,

“oh fuck, miggy” your whine comes off high pitched, needy. one that he has find himself obsessed with. “d-don’t stop, baby—fuck, that feels so good”

hearing that makes him growl, resting his forearm above your head to help him press down his weight on you just a little bit. your jaw goes slack, eyes lulling to the back of your head and nothing miguel appreciates more than the sight before him,

“gonna come, sweetheart? hm?” his hand moves to your jaw, getting you to look at him. his thrusts going even more brutal and deeper making you whimper

“gonna coat my cock, aren’t you? be my good girl”

nodding fast, you bite down your lower lip. big wide eyes looking into him and he swears he’s not going to make it too. not when you look at him like that,

“y-yes! yes miggy, please let me cum!”

soon enough, you both reach your high. soft moans and loud groans escaped your mouths,

miguel stays in you for a while to catch his breath, forehead resting against your collarbone before chuckling. he presses a soft kiss on the soft skin before pulling out,

he watches you trying to regain your composure, breathing heavily with your arm above your head,

“earth to muñeca? you good?l” he heavy pants with a joke, patting your thigh,

your eyes snap open to look at him, giving him a small yet satisfied smile. “i’m good.”

he helps you get up slowly after that, not before pulling the condom off him and throwing it in the trash,

“miguel!” you slap his arm. “people will see that! throw it outside!”

“no one is going to! the janitor maybe. and i’m sure he had his fair shares of seeing used condoms” he shrugs, wiping his hands off the varsity

you brush it off before pulling your panties up and skirt down, fixing up the ponytail after. you eye yourself through the small mirror attached on the wall, removing any smudged mascara and lipstick,

“do i smell like sex? i feel like i smell like sex. ugh, i smell like you!”

he quirks an eyebrow. “and what is wrong about that?”

“nothing! i like smelling like you. but they will—“

“know that i fucked the shit out of you and that you’re my girl? yes” he leaves a soft kiss on your cheek,

you smile at that, looking over your shoulder before pointing your finger at his neck,

“also you have a hickey”

he widens his eyes. “what?! FUCK!”

#miguel o’hara #frat!miguel

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whaddayadothatfor · 11 months

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Ctenizidae

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…

Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel

WC: ~1k

AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.

MDNI

“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.

Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.

Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.

This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:

“Miguel, I think I should—“

“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“

“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”

“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”

You see how frustrating this man is?

So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.

“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”

“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.

You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”

He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.

“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”

You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.

Later

“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.

“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”

“Seriously—“

“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”

“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.

“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”

You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.

“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“

The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.

First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.

With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.

It is you.

And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.

Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.

He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.

His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.

“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”

His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.

“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.

“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.

He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.

He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

#marvel x reader #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #marvel smut #across the spiderverse #spider man 2099 #spider man smut #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac smut #y/n

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milf0bsessi0n · 20 days

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can we talk about clingy possessive doms 🥺 them needing to hear your voice, calling you whenever or messaging you throughout the day, telling you about every minute about their day bc they want you to know, how much they need to touch you, needing to kiss you everywhere, grabbing your face to kiss you or just kissing you everywhere; neck, chest, forehead, temple; nose, cheeks, lips. Holding you close in their arms and/or lap; needing to hear your voice. needing you there to do whatever they want to your body, Helping you with whatever they think you need help with bc you’re either too little or they just want to do it as their love language to take care of you. Making sure you know you are theirs, marking you all over your body and especially the areas they know will be shown to the wold, but just marking you as their could be enough for them. kissing you or touching you or holding you in a possessive way to let you or anyone know that you are theirs!!! and then being protective and caring .. ugh, i’m weak to my knees. them making sure you got home safe, or are are in general. making sure you have eaten or drink your water. taking care of you!!! helping you dress or helping you get ready, pick an outfit; a hairstyle, etc. you just being in their head 24/7, obsessed with you and only you. and vice versa. fuck i need, so bad. clingy doms are the fucking cutest and deserve the world. i would get on my knees in less am a fucking second for them.

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barefoothighlander · 1 year

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Hi luv! Can you please do some headcanons of ghost having a civilian wife who is an absolute RAY of sunshine, but he keeps the fact that he’s married a secret even from 141. And when they do find out they’re just like??? How??? She’s like so cute???

yes ugh, soft!ghost has my heart, he'd be such a cutie obsessed with his wife, I love this, also obsessed with gossipy Soap and Gaz, they'd be so invested in Ghost's life

warnings: none just fluff

You and Simon had been married 3 years, meeting 5 years ago while he was on leave back home and you were visiting family

You bumped into him on accident after losing all sense of direction on a back street.

He was intrigued because most people are frightened by his outward appearance, but you just smiled at him apologizing profusely.

He had awkwardly asked for your number and you gave it to him, going on a few dates before he fell madly in love with you. Completely enamoured with your smile and personality, always giggling and happy, a stark contrast to how he usually was.

You made him see things in a softer light, constantly dragging him to farmer’s markets and gardens, he followed your every whim, just happy to spend time with you.

He had proposed a year after the two of you became official, deciding he couldn’t go another day without being married to you.

A week after the proposal he had to deploy, it broke his heart to leave you but it made him even more eager to come back to you.

You knew most of what his job consisted of, he spared you the more gory parts as they always made you squeamish. The two of you making it a rule to keep your relationship secret, even from the rest of the team.

After you married he made a point of calling you every day from base just to check in, even though he’d see you right as soon as he got home.

On a particularly difficult mission, Simon had gotten hit in the head, his helmet knocked off and thrown to the dirt, a small piece of paper falling out.

Soap rushed over to him to make sure he was okay, noticing the small paper and grabbing at it as Simon reached to tear it from his hands. It was a photo of you, hair messy from the wind, skin glowing from the sun outside, bright smile plastered on your face as you smiled at your husband behind the camera.

“Lt have’ya a lass,” Soap asked, dodging Ghost’s attempts to retrieve the photo. “Tell me and I’ll give it back”. Sick of Soaps games Ghost submits. “She’s my wife”

Word spread quickly through the team on behalf of Soap’s loudmouth, all the men rushing to question Ghost about his secret relationship.

“No shot you married her, she’s so.. Cute? Smiley? And you’re so” Gaz is cut off by Simon’s dark stare.

All the men pestered Ghost about meeting you as he continued to decline, Price offering a simple ‘congratulations son’

One day you came to base to drop off some gear that Simon forgot at home, immediately greeted by Soap. “No way” he says, stepping towards you with open arms, pulling you into a hug. You hug him back confused. “Sorry, have we met” “No but I’ve heard a lot about you lass”

Simon rushes out of the base practically tearing Soap off you, giving him a warning with a quiet stare as you tug on his jacket, reaching on your toes to lift his mask slightly, planting a kiss to his lips and smiling before handing him the bag of gear which he takes before running a hand softly over your back.

“This is so strange” Soap responds taken aback by the sight of you two, one tall and brooding, face covered by a skull mask and the other a practical ray of sunshine, wearing a long flowing dress that leaves the top of your chest open to the breeze.

“I will say, you’re much prettier in person, the picture doesn’t do justice” “That’ll do” Simon warns as you giggle.

Against Simon’s wishes you invite the team over for a dinner, the weather was too nice to not eat outside as you got to meet each member, learning more about them than Simon would ever tell you.

“I’m sorry it just makes no sense,” Gaz says as you quirk an eyebrow in question. “I just mean you’re so nice, and the Lieutenant is so daunting” you laugh, “trust me, he’s not so scary with the mask off,” He bows his head in embarrassment as you break down his strict facade.

“So what do you two even do? Gasp does Lt cuddle?” Soap asks almost giggling, Simon swears that he could kill Johnny right there. You spare a glance at your husband before meekly nodding in Soap’s direction as he and Gaz are taken in a fit of laughter, you shrug your shoulders in a silent sorry to Simon.

The team made it a tradition to now show up at your home at least once a week to have dinner and some drinks, or just play some board games, intent on getting to know you better, almost punishing Ghost for keeping you a secret.

Cleaning up dinner Simon slides behind you wrapping you in a hug, a small show of affection he had been holding off on while the team was in view. “You’re telling them too much” As he kisses the base of your neck, you turn your body to him, “It’s nice to get to know them, I like seeing you around your friends” he scoffs as the term, then thinks about it shit maybe we are friends.

The time spent after at work Simon was constantly pestered about when he’d make Price and Soap uncles while Gaz had proclaimed himself as your future child’s fairy godmother.

Simon grew tired of the constant interrogation but felt like a weight was off his chest finally being able to be open about your relationship, though he’d never let the team hear the pet names you call him in private, nor would he let them in on the more tender moments of your time spent together.

The team always telling him that he was nicer when you visited or called him, always nagging to see pictures of the two of you (there were barely any, maybe one where he didn't have his mask on but it was kept secure in the house), and wanting to know when you'd visit.

Ghost was relieved that the team was so nice to you, he'd kill them for even saying a bad word, but he wasn't surprised given your ability to get along with almost everyone, always stopping to say good morning to people on the streets.

They teased him for days after you dropped him off some lunch one time, he had acted angry but he loved the domesticity of your lives, he loved seeing you in his office, a bright figure in such a beige world, he couldn't help the smile that crept on his face at the mere thought of you.

So the two of you welcomed the team into your lives, enjoying the company after living rather solitary. Spilling secrets with Soap and Gaz as Price and Simon looked on, Price with a small smirk on his face, happy that Simon finally found the love he deserved, while Simon sat unamused at Soap's jokes.

#simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost cod #cod mw2 #ghost fluff #ghost mw2 #mw2022 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x you #call of duty mwii #simon ghost riley angst #cod mw x reader #call of duty

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2knightt · 3 months

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could u write the gang (seperate) x a reader thats like. deeply and unashamedly obsessed w them

not in in a weird way but like soda makes reader a cake and theyre like “wow ur so talented u should be a baker youd be the best baker in the world everyone look at this isnt my bf such a good baker?? isnt he so cool???? arent you so jealous of me???”

or they visit the DX on steves lunch break and theyre like whats all this? and steve starts explaining the car stuff to them and theyre like “omg ur so smart ur the smartest person ever the DX is so lucky to have you <333 soda come look at steves car isnt he so good at this??? babe u should like reinvent cars youd totally do it better than washington or whatever”

or just reader holding hands and sitting on laps and kissing faces at all times basically the gang x reader thats all over them

「 i just wanna get high with my lover! 」

IN WHICH—you’re totally in love with them!♡ ໋֢ 🎞️✧

📀ヾFT. THE GREASERS࿐ྀུ ♡

⌗ 🕯️ notes !𖥔༌ ᰷ ﹅ i’m Finally working on reqs. WHO CHEERED???? also new theme for fics. got bored of my old ones😜

Dallas Winston ;

“you’re so strong, dal. you look so good when you fight, did you know that? you’re like the only person who looks that good when fighting. you’re so cool.”

“…thanks, doll.”

was SO STARTLED LMFAO

like??? he’s never been showered in compliments like this before. but he DOES welcome it

cocky bastard. you boosted his ego. it’s too high now.

“i stole this for you.”

“DALLAS! you didn’t have too, oh my god! you’re so sweet—and talented! i can’t believe you stole this—for me! i have the best boyfriend ever! i am so lucky, ain’t i?”

“yeah, i know.”

SHOWS U OFF SO MUCH. he just likes the reaction you give him when he does, honestly. like dallas LOVES hearing you ramble about him when he’s beside you.

he’s all, “yup. i AM the best boyfriend ever, dickhead.”

“this my partner.”

“mhm! dally’s the sweetest ever! he’s so nice to me, don’t you think? ugh, i love him so much. he’s the best boyfriend in the world.”

the way you look at him with lovesick eyes makes him wanna hold you forever and never let go btw.

IF YOU SIT ON HIS LAP AND DO THAT??? ohmy fod he’ll lose his fucking mind!!!

dallas winston looking up at you while you cradle him between your legs, his hands gently holding your waist while you gush over him, a small pink hue across his cheeks.

AHHHH AHHHHH AHHHHHH

“you’re so handsome. you’re the prettiest boy ever. i love your hair, it’s so nice. with or without the grease.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

has the most DISGUSTING and GROSS lovey dovey smile across his face has you plant kissed across his face, mumbling sweet nothings as you do so.

feels like you’re an angel when you do this after a bad day btw. loves you sososososo much he’s so down bad

Johnny Cade ;

looks up at you with the biggest puppy dogs eyes you’ve ever seen as you sit on his lap, kissing his scars. johnny’s lips would be slightly parted as he seems mesmerized with every movement you make.

WHIPPED. HE IS WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER. the SECOND you started gushing over, he got a small grin on his face, a sense of pride washing over him.

he, like, never knew you seen him as this magnificent being. johnny’s confidence was never great but PHEWWW you’re always there to help him!!!

“you really like my scars?”

“totally. they make you look so cute, johnny. they make you, you and that’s all i could ever ask for. you’re so cute. i love you. any person would, i’m just so glad that it’s me.”

he’d get so shy after but johnny would be walking with his chin slightly higher. ‘cause deep down he’s all, “what if they don’t actually mean it☹️?” and then you show up outta nowhere and like engulf him with a hug and he’s like “nvm…i love ‘em actually☺️.”

whenever you brag about him to people, he has to look at his feet to keep himself from smiling too much.

“and if you ever need someone to listen to you, nobody does it like johnny! he’s the best listener ever, nobody can ever compare to him. johnny’s such an angel!”

“y/n…”

he’d mumble, an embarrassed groan leaving his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, kicking a rock.

contrary to popular belief of you being more in love, he is. he swears up and down that you’re too good to him, that you’re a real doll, that he doesn’t deserve someone like you.

johnny needs someone like this in his life NOW! and if it isn’t you it’s gonna be me.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

so fucking embarrassed i’m crying.

i believe he can’t take compliments for SHIT. so being around you, he just becomes a mess. like stuttering n’ shit.

“your voice is so pretty. you read so much better than everyone else, pony. you should do it as a job—you’d totally beat everyone. it’s not like it’d ever be a competition with you there, though. you’re so cool, pony.”

“i-uhm…thank you, y/n.”

GIGGLES SOO HARD LMFAOOOO

like at night when he’s with soda, he just rambles to his older brother about what you told him. soda thinks it’s cute in the moment, but later wants ponyboy to shut up because it’s been two hours of him gushing over what you said to him.

“and then they said that i-“

“OKAY, DAMN. i have work tomorrow and you have school. ponyboy, please.”

“…okay? they said that i was the prettiest boy they’ve ever seen.”

“holy fuck.”

like he’d be ranting about some drama with the gang or some movie he’d seen, sitting on the couch as you rest your head on his shoulder.

you look over to him, thinking he’s never looked more perfect. ponyboy had washed the grease out of his hair, the fluffy hair falling over his ears.

unconsciously, you tuned him out as you leaned over, kissing him on the cheek.

“what was that for?”

“you tell stories so well, pony. you’d make a great writer, did you know that? i’m so lucky to have you.”

“i-huh?”

WAHHH COMPLIMENTING PONYBOY WHILE ATTACKING HID FACE WITH KISSES AS HE GIGGLES ☹️☹️☹️

he’s so cute thay’s literally my man….!!!!

Sodapop Curtis ;

HE’S SO IN LOVE!!!!!

sitting on the counter while he cooks and you just rant about how perfect he is makes him WEAK IN THE KNEES.

“you’re such a good baker, soda. nobody does it like you do. you’re like—the best baker in the world. ain’t he, two-bit?”

“stop it, y/n..🤭🤭”

“nah, ‘m good.”

you brag about him to the girls that go to the DX to flirt with him. i can see it now.

soda’s just in the background giggling SOO HARD AND TWEAKING WITH STEVE LMFAOO

“no, he’s so sweet to me! i swear, he’s like the best boyfriend ever, did you know that? i’d be jealous if i was you, honestly.”

“TEEHEE”

“soda, shut up!”

“i’m the best boyfriend ever, steve😛.”

HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU IT’S SO CUTEEE😭😭

“you look so cute today, y/n. i got so lucky, didn’t i? had to be blessed to even have you in my life.”

FUCK i need this man at my doorstep

like imagine sitting on his lap, him staring up at you while you push back his hair with a small smile on his face. the silence between the two of you being broken by exchanged compliments.

YOU TWO MAKE EVERYONE FUCKIJG SICK I WANT YOU TO KNOW THAT!!! YOU GUYS ARE SO PERFECT TOGETHER IT MAKES ME VOMIT!!!

Darry Curtis ;

tries to act cool and nonchalant when you do it, but he turns his head away to cover the huge smile that’s growing on his face.

“you’re so strong, dare! you’re the strongest person ever—you could totally take down anyone. isn’t he just the best, soda?”

“alright, that’s enough, y/n.”

“but you’re just so good to me, dare. :(.”

“sweetheart, please.”

“alright..”

“he’s smiling, y/n.”

“and blushin’…i love your brother so much.”

“everyone knows.”

AKDNSKDHEKENKDS SITTING ON HIS LAP WHILE HE SITS ON HIS CHAIR, READING THE NEWS PAPER🤭🤭

like your arms are wrapped around his neck, his arms around your waist as he reads the newspaper over your shoulder while lazily responding to your rambles.

“you look so cute with your reading glasses. you’re the most handsome boyfriend in the whole world. i’m so lucky, ain’t i?”

“you’re a real treat, y/n.”

—

“i love your hair, darry. you look so much better with this hairstyle than anyone else. you should be a model.”

“i’d be a terrible model, dear.”

gang is so jealous of your relationship btw. they call it bullshit that darry pulled you.

they fake gag and groan when you do this but in reality they’re like, ‘damn…when is it my turn to be happy.😒’

darry’s self esteem’s alright. it’s not the best but it’s not the worst. but you’re always there to remind him he’s absolutely perfect :).

Steve Randle ;

HE’S SOOOO WHIPPED LMFAOOOO

like i swear to god the second you went on a rant about him he was so ready to marry you right then and there.

“you’re so good when it comes to cars. honestly—you could just make your own and it’d be 100x better than whoever made them before. you’re just the best mechanic ever.”

“really? you think so? ‘cause if i were ever to i’d totally change the way they-“

and now steve’s on a 12 minute rant on how he’d change cars to rub better while you just sit there, listening to him with a smile.

YOU HAVE HIM SOOOO INSANE LIKE I SWEAR TO GOD!?? he couldn’t ask for a better partner if he tried!!!

like, i imagine steve’s always had confidence issues—being friends with soda n all don’t really help.

BUT THEN YOU CAME ALONG AND HE’S JUST VISIBLY HAPPIER😭😭.

“you’re so smart, steve. like—the smartest ever.”

“stawpp, oh my god. what else am i, though?”

“you’re cute, awfully nice, you got the prettiest eyes the world’s ever seen-“

please tell him all this while kissing him all over. he needs it so bad.

teehee lazily kissing steve randles face as the blush across his face grows from the never ending compliments that leave your lips😜

he’d totally tell you to shut up and when you don’t, he just kiss you.

AUGHHHH

Two-Bit Mathews ;

AUGH HE DOES THE SAME THING FOR YOU !!!!

honestly—he didn’t like it at first. ‘cause deep down he was all, ‘wtf??? i’m supposed to be making them swoon n’ shit??? why am i the one giggling rn??😒😡’

but overtime he’d look forward to your silly little love drunk rambles. tell him he’s the most thoughtful boyfriend ever when he’s drunk and he might cry.

“YOU REALLY THINK THAT? BABY, STA-“

and he’s like actually sobbing while hugging you.

sitting on two-bit’s lap in the backseat of his car at the drive-in, ignoring the movie you guys came to watch because you’re both too focused on each other.

kissing every inch of his face, laughs leaving his lips as you mutter small comments about how cute his laugh is. unconsciously, his grip on your hips tightening.

FUCK i’m making myself feel lonely writing this.

every single good thing you say about him gets internalized. someone could say his hair’s dumb but then in his head he goes ‘NUH-UH! y/n said my hair is absolutely perfect😜’

#2knightt #the outsiders #the outsiders x reader #dallas winston x reader #johnny cade x reader #ponyboy x reader #ponyboy curtis x reader #sodapop x reader #sodapop curtis x reader #darry curtis x reader #steve randle x reader #two-bit x reader #two-bit mathews x reader #this fic had no reason to give me this much trouble to post #fuck tumblr and it’s stupid ass updates lmfao

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seireitonin · 1 month

Note

Dating Toby?? Like is he clingy, jealous or protective of his partner??

(I don't know....this is my first time doing these things.....)

Toby brain rot :3 this is how I see Toby mixed with some canon information! (I’m gonna try to keep it realistic)

What would it be like dating Toby?

Toby’s life is filled with tragedy

Abuse, death, murder, mental illnesses, being a slave to Slenderman

It’s all bad

So when he finds you, someone that accepts him and loves him despite all that, he’s not letting you go

He’ll do anything for you

I mean to the point it’s unhealthy

Because hes obsessed with you

Like really obsessed with you

He’s super touchy, not only because he likes to feel close to you, but it keeps him grounded

That’s important to him because his disorders/ mental illnesses cause him to hallucinate or space out

He’s not gloomy he’s actually upbeat but when he remembers something from his past or the current state of his life he goes through episodes of depression and mood swings

They can get really intense and as you’re with him you’ll learn how to support him through it

Just laying with him, making sure he has water and reminding him you’re here for him will help lots and lots of physical affection

If his mood swings get violent he’ll isolate himself from you but it’s heartbreaking to hear his suffering

His swings can go from extreme anger to intense sadness to reckless happiness

Since he hasn’t had much kindness or interaction in his life he doesn’t have the best social skills

He’ll say whatever is on his mind with no filter and that includes you too

So he’ll say mean things unintentionally a lot because he doesn’t understand how what he says can be hurtful

And he might try to call you sensitive for it too

“Ugh you’re overreacting I didn’t even say anything that hurtful. It’s just what’s on my mind”

He literally doesn’t understand how it can make you feel because he’s a bit detached with emotions

It’s gonna take a while for him to understand but he loves you so he’ll try to understand for your sake and will work on apologizing

He can also just be rude or a jerk sometimes in general

Toby likes just spending time with you to the point where you’re connected at the hip

He won’t say he loves you with words but he says it with his actions

He brings you gifts, holds your hand, goes on walks with you, holds you and try’s to be better for you (even though it’s really hard because he’s set in his ways)

He talks a lot so sometimes you’ll just listen and smile

Since he can’t feel pain, when he gets back from missions you’ll have to help him check for injuries to make sure he’s okay

He doesn’t say it but he appreciates it

Sometimes he’ll just stare at you because he loves you so much, taking in your every detail

He notices everything about you, from your body language, how you tan in the summer and lighten in the winter, he even knows how many times you breathe in a minute

Toby eats a lot of instant ramen so be prepared to eat a lot of that at first but you start to cook for him because he needs to eat better

Toby never expected to have a girlfriend since he’s a lot to handle but he liked the way you handle him

He’s full of himself literally thinks he’s gods gift to earth so sometimes he puts himself before your relationship but he’s trying to change that

He’s really funny especially if you like dark humor

He’s a jealous man. You’re his no one else’s

If someone even looks at you romantically he’ll go crazy on them

Remember, Toby is still a murderer and enjoys murdering

Chasing them down and threatening them and if it escalated kill them with a smile

He does it all for you. Everything is for you.

“You know I love you, right?”

He looks at you covered in blood

Toby likes it when you wear his sweaters

He wants a family one day and hopes you can give that to him

He’s possessive over you but does it out of intense love and obsession

He wants to keep you safe by any means necessary because he’s so used to losing the people he loves and he really doesn’t wanna lose you

Toby drives a pickup truck and likes to drive you around in it

He likes to sit in the back of it with you and look at the stars in an open field

Since Toby’s older his tics have calmed down but they’re still there and he still has the occasional tic attack

You’ll have to help him through those because sometimes he can’t even talk when he’s having one

Stuff he can squeeze, ice pack on his forehead and making sure he doesn’t hurt himself

He’s happy you don’t see him as a burden like everyone else did

He’s never letting you go

He didn’t know he could feel love this intense

#creepypasta #creepypasta hcs #creepypasta characters #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta headcanon #crp #ticci toby headcanons #ticci toby #ticci toby hc #ticci toby hcs #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta toby

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vivalabunbun · 10 months

Text

As You Are, I Am Too

Summary: If we compare people to magnets, opposites attract and sames repel, so why are two stoic faces paired as soulmates?

Word Count: 15.4k (why are you surprised at this point, get some snacks)

Tags: Alhaitham x Fem! Reader, Smut(r18+), NFSW, MDNI, Modern AU, Soulmate AU, Mutual Pinning, Fluff, Slow Burn, Slow fic, Perfectionist! Reader, angst, arranged pairing, TW: Toxic family, unhappy childhood trauma, child of strained marriage trauma, TW: Themes of self-loathing, themes of infidelity(misunderstanding), toxic work environment, slight workplace harassment, pushy boss, slightly yandere! Alhaitham?, Soft! Alhaitham, second chance romance?, slightly bratty! reader, Dom! Alhaitham, Degradation, Heavy adult themes, attempts at comedy

Author Note: This is experimental, I want to explore if two same sides of a magnet can still attract. I want to explore the fumbles and mistakes of love.

Side Note: Here is a continuation

Do you believe in soulmates?

It’s nothing to be ashamed of if you do. Because who doesn’t want to believe in it? The concept of an ‘other half’, a missing piece that completes you. Someone who loves you and only you unconditionally.

Who doesn’t want to experience that?

To be loved, to be accepted, and to feel whole are all natural human desires. So it’s no surprise society, regardless of the century, culture, or demographic all obsessed over finding that other half.

To find a hand that fits perfectly within the gaps of one’s own.

The greatest minds in all of Tevyat came together, analyzing each pattern, quantifying each data point, and testing each hypothesis until their magnum opus was created: The Akasha System.

Taking the work out of fate’s hands and into a large database.

What criteria did this wonderful system use to piece together two halves of a whole? Who knows, it’s a black box. However, the machine was quite smart, quite quick, and quite accurate.

So much so, there was no reason not to use it.

Humans, no matter how much some might deny it, despise being lonely. They fear it so much they’d rather hold a hand which strangles theirs with an equally crushing grip.

That’s why people rush toward their soulmates the moment the Akasha finds them, they fear being alone.

But do you believe in soulmates?

“No.” Alhaitham puts down his drink.

“But you still used the Akasha??” Kaveh juts a finger in the direction of an ashen-haired man.

“And?” Disinterested eyes glance at the time displayed on a clock in the rowdy bar.

“And?! What do you mean and? You just said you don’t believe in soulmates!” The slam of Kaveh’s palms on the table made a bit of beer lap over the edge of his cup.

“I don’t believe in soulmates, but I’m not ignorant to the benefits of marriage.”

“Huh?”

“It’s convenient.” The blunt statement rolling off Alhaitham’s tongue as he motions for the tab.

“Ugh, you know what, forget it.” Kaveh chases his heavy sigh with a hearty swig of his cup.

“Well then, I’ll call it a night.” He’s stayed out long enough.

Placing a handful of mora on the table to cover his tab, Alhaitham bids goodnight to his two workplace acquaintances and former college roommate.

He swiftly strides towards the creaky tavern door, swinging it open as he steps into the warm Summer evening. Tomorrow is another workday, better to get an adequate amount of rest.

“Still the same even after a full year with her, huh,” Kaveh sighs dryly.

“Did you really think he’d change after marriage, Kaveh?” Cyno finally chipped in from the sidelines.

“I should’ve known, someone as egotistical as Alhaitham practically married himself.”

“Now, now, his wife is nowhere as egotistical as him,” Tighnari says over the rim of his glass.

Cyno and Kaveh paused for a moment, sharing a glance as they considered Tighnari’s observation. With a shrug, they concluded: you weren’t nearly as egotistical as Alhaitham.

Still, the great mystery remains.

“How is he the first to marry?” The blond bachelor slumps further on the tavern stool.

“Life is full of wonders.” The ebony-haired bachelor gave a few comforting pats.

———————————————————————————

Unlocking the solid oak front door, Alhaitham steps into the serenity of a quiet house. Good, his ears were slightly buzzing from the boisterous conversation in a crowded bar.

Taking a few more steps into the entranceway, the man shuts the door behind his body.

The dull gossip over a few rounds of drinks made their influence known to him, he just wants to go to bed. Thus he takes a few more steps toward his bedroom.

“Place your shoes into the closet, I just mopped the floors.” A level voice called out from the living room.

Alhaitham’s movement halts, quickly glancing down at the Oxford shoes still on his feet, taking note of the spotless floorboards.

Wordlessly, Alhaitham unties the laces allowing him to kick them off with ease, placing them onto the shoe rack just behind a closet door.

It’s a habit that slips his mind every now and then despite a year of marriage; Surprisingly unsurprising when you take into consideration his busy mind.

However, times were different now, he’s no longer a kid, free to be lost in thought. He’s now a homeowner of a spacious house, a space he shares with you, and you liked things clean.

Not a speck of dust lingered on surfaces, no plates left in the sink, and books pristinely placed on organized shelves. Qualifications that he deemed exceptional for a life partner.

Now with slipper-clad steps, Alhaitham makes his way through the house, peering into the living room to spot your curled figure reading on a sofa. The warm glow of a floor lamp illuminated the soft curves of your cheek.

“Is something the matter?” You didn’t look up from the page as you addressed him.

“No, just heading to bed.”

“Okay, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The start and finish of tonight’s conversation, after all, you valued a quiet house as much as he did. His colleague’s words weren’t without merit, even Alhaitham isn’t stubborn enough to deny the obvious.

Hobbies identical to each other, books upon books lined up along numerous shelves, preferring to stay within the walls of this house unless dragged out by friends.

Your indecipherable gaze and stiff lips rival his own stone face. Perhaps that’s why the Akasha paired the two of you together. Two beings with stoic faces only another stoic would bear for a life partner, like two sides of the same coin.

Alhaitham stops unbuttoning his shirt behind his shut bedroom door, reanalyzing the previous statement. Actually, that isn’t a very good analogy.

It'd be more accurate to compare you and him to a double-sided mirror that reflected only one view.

“I don’t believe in soulmates.”

The man sitting across from the cafe table, introduced as Alhaitham, bluntly states, interrupting your sip of coffee, warm beverage just barely touching your lips.

Placing your cup back down on the coffee shop table, your gaze observed the stranger who just met you moments ago - a meeting in a small cafe arranged by Sumeru’s Ministry of Human Relations, the government body tasked with delivering the Akasha’s verdict.

After a few breaths, you decided to humor his abrupt statement with a response. Staring straight into his teal-orange eyes, you say, “What a coincidence, neither do I.”

————————

So then why did two nonbelievers follow the verdict handed to them? It’s simple really.

Two salaries combined can buy a sizable house. Two pairs of hands get chores done faster. Two signatures on a certificate save tax money. Life is simpler with a partner to bear some of the burden.

Young professionals and fresh graduates aren’t known for their financial independence; a boy eager to move out of a cheap flat and away from an infuriating roommate, a girl trying to escape a noisy environment.

The circumstances had aligned.

And that’s how it’s been for two years now, a nice quiet house. Although, you’d be lying if you weren’t thankful that the Akasha paired you with someone as handsome as Alhaitham. Silver hair, broad frame, and beryl eyes with a hint of ochre - maybe he’s an apology gift from some fickle god.

He’s a well-rounded and capable man; perceptive enough to know not to cross boundaries drawn in the air, apt enough to not disrupt the serenity, and able to take care of himself.

Although, he could learn to launder better.

Your lips tug down as your eyes scan over the deep wrinkles crimping the fabric of a freshly washed button-down. It looks too rumpled to look professional, even on him. A sigh falls from your lips.

The presence of slow steps make your head turn in their direction, connecting with Alhaitham’s neutral eyes, quirked gray eyebrow questioning your purpose.

Two bodies, two rooms, and two beds.

The only time you or he crossed into the private haven of one another was when the floors needed to be mopped or shelves dusted. Owning a house means owning up to tedious chores and dividing up responsibilities spares one’s sanity from the tediousness.

It’s best to point out the critiques now to spare your own clothes from the same fate. Picking it off the back of his chair, you show him the shameful state of the garment.

“Leaving your clothes in the dryer for too long will create stubborn wrinkles.” You advise.

Teal eyes glance at the shirt in your hands before they flick towards the closet rack, your own gaze follows, noting the numerous other shirts in a similar state. Another heavy sigh escapes you, it's obvious Alhaitham attempted to do laundry yesterday.

Wordlessly, you begin gathering each wrinkled garment.

“I’ll rewash them and hang them outside, it’s the best way to smooth them out. Heat isn’t recommended for your fabrics.” You swiftly walk past him with your arms full.

“Thank you, I’ll clean the floors then.” He takes hold of the mop against the wall.

This seamless switching of responsibilities is done with less than two sentences, the efficiency of which is only possible between two people such as yourselves.

Button-downs are much more fickle than a casual t-shirt, using the wrong detergent or leaving it unattended for too long will cause unsightly wrinkles.

Alhaitham’s laundering skills have improved in the last two years… perhaps the singing of the dryer still slips past his preoccupied mind.

The two of you are working professionals. Crucial insight you’ve learned from your parents: A nicely ironed shirt, neatly brushed hair, and elegantly tied ties are all it takes to make others believe in the white lie of a put-together life.

Alhaitham was raised by his grandmother, a detail you recall from a passing conversation some time ago. It shows.

The amateur attempts at chores, the books strewn about a desk absent-mindedly, and the afternoon naps spent on a couch underneath a sunlit window are secrets only seen behind closed doors - all telltale signs of being well-loved.

‘How nice it must be.’ You thought, clipping his freshly washed button-downs to the clothesline, allowing the Sunday morning rays to shine down upon them.

A stone-faced man was once a beloved grandson. Maybe his juvenile attempts at chores were too endearing for an elderly lady to correct.

Hidden from everyone but the audience of swaying fabric and a curious star, a bittersweet smile tugs at stiff lips.

The clinking of forks against porcelain plates accompanies the evening news. Your eyes starring indifferently towards the TV just around the corner from the dinner table; looks like tonight's topic was the annual metrics of the Akasha.

With each passing year, these metrics only climb higher and higher, a machine learning to calculate better and better.

“What’s your theory behind the Akasha?” you blurt out the question without looking away from the screen.

A pair of utensils halted their movements as Alhaitham glances at the evening news. He takes a moment to wipe the corners of his mouth before humoring you.

Technically, the two of you have yet to fill your daily conversation quota. Might as well do it over dinner.

“It’s all mathematics, the Akasha system. Pairing individuals based on collected data. Demographic, interests, and dispositions, are all factors in a pairing,” he explains in his baritone voice.

“Mmm, then again it's all just a black box, we can’t be certain unless they choose to reveal it.” You ponder aloud.

“Correct. Those factors are all key when it comes to compatibility. The Akasha simply uses probability. However, there’s the element of human variability.”

“Meaning it can’t always be right.” You know this, live it even. “Is that why you don’t believe in the concept of soulmates?” Pivoting to an adjacent question, you return your attention back to the man across the table.

“Yes, it’s an unrealistic belief.” Alhaitham sips on his wine.

“Such a brilliant conclusion, what an astute mind you have.” Honeyed-voice mimicking awe over a glass of water.

Narrowed teal eyes honed in as his glass returned to its place on the lacquered surface, unamused by your quip.

“How about you? What theory brought you to hold the same brilliant conclusion?”

“Do you know phenylethylamine? PEA?” Glancing up from your glass.

From his idle gaze and unmoving lips, you take his silence as a “no”.

“It’s a stimulant that causes your heart to beat abnormally, released when you’re around a special someone. It causes what people describe as the ‘rush’ or ‘fever’ of love.”

He says nothing, waiting for you to continue.

“But then your brain gets used to it, and the abnormality in your chest corrects itself.” You take a sip before continuing, “Nothing last forever, so why do people think love is an exception? That only one person ever will cause their hearts to flutter till the end of time?”

A dry giggle follows the clink of your water cup against the wood.

“How insightful.” Alhaitham takes another sip of wine to chase his sarcasm.

Maybe it was the amusing quip or how tonight’s butter chicken turned out to be exceptionally delicious, but a subtle smile curls at the edges of your lips. With today’s conversational quota fulfilled you focus your full attention back to the awaiting dinner.

You remain ignorant to the gaze of teal eyes, oblivious to how it fixates on the faint smile complimenting the soft curves of your cheeks and plush lips.

“...”

The front door shuts and locks behind you, your shoes are halfway into the closet before a familiar scent beckons you towards the living room.

Quickly getting into your slippers, you trek through the entranceway and round the corner. The vivid hues of pale blues and gentle violets with pops of bright yellow catch your eyes, confirming your speculations: it’s a bouquet.

The bundle of flowers were placed into a long-forgotten vase. Turning away from the blooms, you face the man currently thumbing through a book on the couch -the only other person with access to this quiet haven.

Turning back to observe the blooms, you note each species of flower. The Sumerian Rose, Kalpalata Lotus, and…Padisarah.

You observe how the pollen of the Padisarahs dusts the radius of the surface around the vase. It’s a fickle flower after all.

A fickle and potent-smelling flower.

A scowl twists your face despite your best efforts, the sickly-sweet fragrance of the capricious blooms assaults your senses.

“Please open a window.” your hand comes up to shield your nose.

“Is something the matter?”

“The smell is giving me a headache.”

A headache forms from within the deepest depths of your mind, the same visceral reaction to the heavy perfumes that plagued your childhood walls. Your mother believed the saccharine scent could cover up her infidelity if she sprayed enough.

Compared to that artificial perfume, fresh Padisarahs were much tamer, but still enough to make a bitter taste appear at the back of your tongue.

“I see.” Alhaitham sets his book down, getting up to allow the Autumn breeze in.

Swiftly, you trudge away from the vase and its potent blooms and down the hall, eager to find an untainted corner of the house. It’d be best to sleep the headache off.

In the morning when you round the corner back into the living room, you notice the vacant vase and table wiped clean of any speck of yellow pollen. Passing through into the kitchen, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafts in the air.

As you pour yourself a cup, you take note of how the trash has already been taken out, a fresh trash bag lining the bin.

Good, flowers were a hassle to keep around the house.

———————————————————————————

“Chocolates?” You study the box of sweets left out on the kitchen table.

“I picked them up while getting ingredients for dinner,” Alhaitham answers, busy chopping carrots.

“You can have some.”

You return your gaze back to the intricately designed package in seasonal Winter colors. It’s not often that you indulge in such elegant treats, you couldn’t refuse such an offer.

Delicately picking up a piece, the glossy dark chocolate shine looks inviting, you can see the quality in these sweets. Placing the small chunk onto your tongue, savoring the rich flavor. Not too sweet and not too bitter.

Using your tongue to maneuver it towards your teeth you bite into its center, only for your tastebuds to be assaulted by a foul flavor. The distinct and sharp tang of alcohol and the revolting aftertaste of bourbon spoils the sweetness.

Refusing to allow the detestable flavor to remain on your tongue, you briskly swipe up a few napkins, spitting the foul sweet out. You frown at the stubborn tang of bourbon which threatens to ruin your appetite for dinner.

“You can have the rest.” You throw out the crumpled napkin.

“Are they of poor quality?” The tapping of the knife paused.

“They’re just not to my taste.”

“In that case, I hope tonight's dinner is.” Alhaitham resumes his task.

Taking a glass out from the cupboard, you fill the cup with fresh water before gulping it down, washing the foul tang of alcohol from your tongue, and even fouler memories of the stench of sour wine and crushed cans.

Wiping the escaped droplets off with the back of your hand, you go for a second glass. Hopefully, you can cleanse your palate.

———————————————————————————

“Do you have plans tonight?” Alhaitham’s words make you stop in the middle of the hallway.

You have a book ready in hand for a night of reading on the sofa under the soft glow of the floor lamp. You know his eyes can see that, gaze questioning his intentions.

“I was given two tickets to a movie, would you like to accompany me?” He holds out the slips of paper.

As your eyes pass over the printed font, you recognized the title, a name picked up within the chatter of coworkers at the office. It’s An adaptation of a famous light novel from Inazuma, and the reviews seem positive.

“Sure.”

You could get out of the house a little more.

…

It seems like everyone wants to see a movie tonight, the theater lobby is filled with bustling crowds, families with excited kids, and couples holding hands.

And then there’s you and Alhaitham. Standing side by side, his hands carrying two carbonated drinks, your hands holding an overpriced bag of popcorn, walking toward the room printed on the tickets.

“C5…C6, looks like we got good spots.” You settled into the plush seats, careful not to spill the bag.

Alhaitham hums in response, placing your drink in the cupholder. More and more people filed into the screening room, waves of ‘excuse me’s and ‘sorry’s rolling through the space until all the seats were finally filled. The lights begin to dim as the opening logo booms through the sound system.

The cinematography was beautiful, the musical scores accompanying the plot pleasing to the ears, and the popcorn perfectly seasoned.

It’s been a while since you’ve last gone to a movie theater, maybe you should go more often. As you brought a few more pieces of popcorn to your lips, your eyes travel toward Alhaitham.

His arms crossed as the light of the silver screen reflects onto his skin, noticing your stare, his teal gaze connects with yours.

Moving the striped bag closer to his frame, you offer him some popcorn, he paid for the refreshments. It'd be a shame if he didn’t get to enjoy them too.

His large hand reachs over and takes a handful, your curiosity wanting to see his reaction to the snack. However, a piercing shrill snaps your attention away.

Just a few rows away, a woman stood up from her seat, throwing a bag of popcorn at the man sitting beside her. Screaming words you couldn’t quite make out as they merges with the onscreen dialogue and equally furious shouts of the now popcorn-covered man.

Their thunderous voices were only amplified by the acoustics of the theater.

They’re both standing now, still hurling insults and grievances one after another. There’s a ringing in your ears, their faceless silhouettes in the dim theater replaying a scene you’ve seen many times before. It’s as if they’ve finally developed a conscious, now aware of the stares and glares thrown their way.

Oh, look they’re leaving now, still fighting the whole way out of the screening room.

With the disturbance now cleared, a low wave of murmuring swept through the audience before dying out. The dialogue and soundtrack were audible again, the atmosphere reverting to how it was.

You didn’t feel like snacking on the popcorn anymore. Gaze focus on the fluffy puffs for the rest of the movie.

“Did you enjoy the film?” An indifferent voice resounds from your right side.

Walking out as the credit rolled in the background, following the flow of traffic toward the exit. You were walking by Alhaitham’s side, but your mind was elsewhere, a subtle frown etched on your lips.

“It was fine, just crowded and loud.” Your voice was just as flat.

“Oh.”

Tossing the unfinished bag of popcorn way into the nearest trash can, the two of you continue on the silent journey home.

Perhaps, it’s best if you just stayed curled up with a book.

“Eh? It’s been three years and you’ve never gotten your wife flowers? I knew you were cold-hearted, but not to this extent. Here, a quick bouquet of some fresh flowers I picked.”

“You should gift her some sweets, maybe then you two can talk a choco-lot… Did you get the joke?”

“Are you serious?! Almost four years and you never took her on a date?? You’re hopeless! Take these tickets and take her to the movies. By the way, you’ll have to pay for them.”

Alhaitham wasn’t sure what made his colleagues so invested in his marriage, maybe a projection of their own lack of one. To his colleagues, you were just as much of an enigma as the ashen-haired man.

Any passing comment, no matter how vague or curt, would bring forth an onslaught of unsolicited advice. And it was for that very reason within the walls of your home these details shall stay.

Alhaitham isn’t sure which was more irksome, the uninformed guidance of bachelors, or the fact he was the one who actually tested each suggestion. Regardless, at least these trials were fruitful in the sense he can gauge your dislikes now.

You despise flowers for their fickle messes and scent. You’re revolted by overpriced chocolates. You detested rowdy theaters and subpar films.

Four now going on to five years, and these were his results. Frankly, he didn’t have to subject you to such experiments for these results, because they aligned with his own preferences.

A waste of time, disturbing your peace for the sake of his own curiosity.

A heavy sigh falls from his lips as he sets the bucket of water down, one hand holding a mop as the other turns the knob of your bedroom.

It’s a Sunday, meaning the floors needed to be mopped. Your door's hinges sing as they swing open only to be abruptly silenced as Alhaitham stood motionless under the door frame.

Oh. He should’ve knocked.

You were in the midst of getting dressed in front of your floor-length mirror, glimpses of smooth skin peeking out from under baggy fabric. Before he could stop, teal eyes followed the dark fabric reaching just down to the middle of your thighs and draping low on one shoulder. Your fingers were in the middle of buttoning the clearly oversized shirt as you turned back to focus on him.

Blank gaze traveling up your soft lips set in a neutral position and meeting your deadpan stare, Alhaitham’s conscience restarts.

Today was Sunday, which meant it was laundry day yesterday, and it was the ashen-haired man’s turn to wash and dry the clothes. Somehow, his button-down got mixed in with your blouses, leading to your unamused reaction.

“I’ll be more mindful next time, did my shirt dull any of your whites?” Forcing his eyes to avert, a late attempt at respecting your privacy.

“It’s fine, fortunately, the dye didn’t bleed out during the wash.” You turned away as your hand pulls the draping fabric up your shoulder.

“Just place the shirt over the chair in my room, I’ll take care of it later.”

“Okay.”

Once more your door sings as he shuts it on the way back into the hall, deciding to clean the floors of his room first and allowing you to change into your rightful clothes. It was early noon and a weekend, meaning there was no reason for Alhaitham to brush out his sleep-tousled hair. Hopefully, messy gray locks were enough to conceal burning ears.

———————————————————————————

“The Evolution of Everything.” His eyes scan over the title held out in front of him.

A newly published scientific journal filled with freshly collected data, the book's spine still in mint condition. Alhaitham takes note of the identical copy held in your hand.

“You seemed interested in this genre, so I picked up a copy for you.” You motion for him to take it.

There wasn’t a rule etched in stone that forbade the sharing of books within these quiet walls. The books on your shelves have been more interesting than his as of late. A pattern of folded corners inflecting more and more pages of the books lining your bookshelves, evidence of a certain man’s meddling.

The warning glare every time you smoothed out a creased page directed his way didn’t seem to be enough to stop the unconscious habit of his hands.

It looks like you’re trying out a new solution, getting him his own copy to prevent the infection from engulfing each and every corner of your bookshelves.

“Thank you, I’ll read it soon.” He accepts the peace offering.

With that, you made your way back to the sofa. Flipping open your own copy, fingers gently making sure to not crumple the delicate pages or crease the pristine spine. Alhaitham compares it to the book currently held in his own hands.

An older book, while not falling apart or tattered, it’s obvious the man has thumbed through its pages. A well-loved book as his grandmother would’ve described it.

Alhaitham needs to stop this practice he never corrected in childhood.

———————————————————————————

“Alhaitham.” You greet him at the entranceway.

Said man is currently placing his outside shoes away into the closet, returning from an uneventful day at his office. You usually got home before him, but this was the first time you’ve waited for him at the front door. He notes that you seem to be holding something behind your back.

“Here.” Bring your arms out from your back, the distinct crinkling of plastic was heard.

Teal eyes study the gift basket filled with bath products, body wash, shampoo, conditioner, and lotion all nicely packaged with a satin ribbon.

“It’s to thank you for helping me with errands lately,” you explain.

Recently, you’ve been asking him to accompany you to the cluttered streets lined with stalls and haggling merchants. With his towering frame and larger hands, he could carry heavier bags and part a path through the pushy crowds easier. You were using your resources to maximize efficiency.

“There’s no need to trouble yourself with this, I’m just doing my part. But thank you.” He takes the basket from your hands, eyes remaining collected.

Just as the basket leaves your hands, the distinct chime of your phone goes off as ‘Bahram’ flashes across the screen. The name of your boss.

“Excuse me, I have to take this call. Dinner will be ready in half an hour.” Turning away, you walk toward the kitchen.

The he hums in response, slipping into his inside shoes. With brisk steps, he covers the distance from the front door to his room, closing then leaning against the solid oak.

Sharply inhaling as one hand balancing the basket of toiletries and the other holding his head.

You’ve always prefer to maintain the serenity of the house. Resolving strife with proactive actions or brief comments. Not once in these past five years did you ever nag him, you’re too pragmatic for that. At times it’s a curse more than a blessing, evidenced by the gift basket staring back at him mockingly.

Although Alhaitham was messy at times, he knows the importance of hygiene. Teeth brushed twice a day, a shower taken every day before dinner, and deodorant applied daily.

However, the temperatures this Summer were at record highs, even for Sumeru. The packed market streets pushing the two of you closer than usual, perhaps he’s no match for the heat this time.

Washing his hair twice and his body thrice, Alhaitham finishes his prolonged shower by gurgling some mouthwash for good measure. Walking into the kitchen in a fresh set of clothes and his hair still damp. The table set with potato boat and some steak. Impassive eyes met inscrutable eyes as you motion for him to take a seat.

Your nose remained relaxed, meaning you were probably satisfied with his efforts.

Alhaitham makes a silent reminder to research some cologne after he finishes washing the dishes. One that isn’t overbearing nor too weak to linger.

How embarrassing it is, five years in and the stoic prodigy known as Alhaitham is still testing the bounds of his wife’s patience. Selfish experiments and habits he can’t seem to correct conflicting with your wishes for a clean, serene, and quiet home.

The entire reason why you bothered signing your name next to a stone-faced man who said ‘I don’t believe in soulmates’ before asking ‘How are you?’.

Flowers, chocolates, and movie tickets.

You weren’t oblivious to the sentiment behind these arbitrary actions. In a way, it was expected. A husband wants to get closer to his wife, it’s simple chemistry.

The human mind craves connection, oxytocin, dopamine, and serotonin released at the sight of gifted blooms, crafted sweets, and from simply sitting within each other's presence.

A chemical cocktail the mind gets drunk on.

Alhaitham isn’t immune to it and neither are you. Even if you were able to stiffen your lips, steady your gaze, and hide those flushed cheeks. Nothing you did could quell the abnormality in your chest, was Alhaitham having the same issue?

There comes the first hurdle, the unknown which hung in the air formed over years of peaceful silence. The thought of two stoic faces peering into each other’s eyes as two monotonous voices stated the obvious would make any romantic keel over and die.

It’d be too embarrassing, especially when it’s already been awkward.

Headache caused by sickly sweet blossoms, spitting out pricey sweets, and dulled reaction to a critically acclaimed film. None of this was Alhaitham’s fault, how can you blame someone for something they don’t know?

He never asked, you never told.

No one knew what happened within that noisy house with empty bottle-covered floors of two ‘soulmates’ who refused to release their crushing grips. All except the three unfortunate souls trapped within its Padisarah-scented walls.

Still, his keen eyes didn’t miss those details, reassessing his actions before ultimately channeling more of his energy into chores around the house instead of frivolous gifts. What a proactive husband.

A sting of guilt felt as you recall his sincere attempts at trying to cross an icy bridge. What should you say? ‘Thank you, you tried.’ Sounded far too condescending, it could even lead to a huffy fight. Something you’ve been good at avoiding these past five years.

Marriage is filled with compromises, meeting each other halfway along the road of life, side by side. So you tried this time.

Curiosity guiding you as it did a naive hero towards the brilliance of a red star.

———————————————————————————

Your first attempt was inspired by an article that popped up on your phone’s feed, something about wearing your partner’s shirt to make them flush, nonsense known as the ‘boyfriend shirt’.

You still gave it a try. Swiping up one of your husband’s black button-downs one Saturday night, only building up the confidence to put it on the next morning.

Your original plan was to just casually wear it around the house as you got the Sunday morning chores done, but that got thrown out when Alhaitham suddenly opened your door when one-third of the buttons were still undone.

A moment of tense silence followed, impressively you managed to maintain a cool facade. Grasping the opportunity to leave this stale silence with an expertly crafted response.

———————————————————————————

In the end, he just wanted his shirt back. So for your next attempt, you toned it down, no longer taking advice from nonsensical articles.

Recently, Alhaitham has taken more of an interest in your bookshelf. More of the once pristine edges of your books folder here and there. If it was anyone else, you’d make them buy you a new copy immediately, but for now, you simply smoothed out the paper.

If he wants to read the theories and studies that muse you, why don’t you read them together?

However, two bodies pressed together on a sofa trying to read the small print along pages at the same time is simply uncomfortable. Plus, Alhaitham reads much faster than you.

To ensure a pleasant reading experience for both of you, two copies were the best solution.

He read it after you.

———————————————————————————

Your next attempts used thinly veiled excuses to get Alhaitham to accompany you to the bustling markets of Sumeru City. In a way, trying to make up for that lackluster movie experience.

Only for it to soon turn into using Alhaitham to carry arm fulls of bags as he shielded you from the push and pull of the busy crowd.

Perhaps you should stick to gift-giving, to spare your husband from working like a Sumpter Beast in this weather.

But besides books, what should you give him? He’s just like you, if he sees something he wants, he’d just buy it with his own money.

On the way home from work, you caught sight of a shop, one which displayed handmade soaps and fancy lotions. Huh, Alhaitham often takes your lotions, maybe you should get him his own. A bell ringing overhead announces your entrance into the cozy store.

“Welcome!” A bright voice chirped as a shop assistant with vibrant red hair and an equally vibrant smile bounded toward you.

“I’m Nilou, how may I help you today?”

“I’m just looking for some lotion.” You politely responded, trying to ignore the faint fragrance of Pardisarahs.

“We’ve got plenty of hand-made ones, for you or for someone else?”

“For my husband.”

“Oh? What does he like?”

You paused for a moment, lips pressed together in contemplation before deciding.

“Something fresh and not overbearing, nothing made from Pardisarahs.” If he liked using your lotions, then he must have the same scent preferences.

“We just got this new lotion that fits the criteria! Oh! But it pairs very well with this body wash… actually this shampoo and conditioner set is also a good fit. Oh! What if we bundle them?”

What was supposed to be a simple lotion turned into you leaving the small shop with an entire gift basket. A sigh leaves your lips, looks like you’re not as immune to sales tactics as you originally thought.

That night you handed the ribbon-wrapped basket to Alhaitham. Even if he isn’t interested in expensive handcrafted soaps, he’ll still use them out of necessity, they were a gift after all.

However, it doesn’t seem you had to worry about that. He used up the fancy soaps and lotions.

The opulent scent lingering on his skin and towel-dried hair, looks like your gift made you discover a new side of your husband.

He enjoys really long showers, evidenced by your rising water bills.

Still, the vast expanse of uncertainty didn’t shrink, not even one bit. Just like the distance between an outstretched hand toward the sun.

Books, lotions, and walks through a market, looks like it was all for naught.

The mutual agreement to not lock eyes, these cold halls, these awkward dinners filled with nothing but the clattering of silverware and plates. Where have you seen these patterns before?

Oh, you’ve seen these in your childhood home.

Ah, was this a curse passed on to you? What an awful wedding gift from uninvited parents to a courthouse office.

Clutching the straps of your bag tighter, your legs quicken their pace, wanting to get out of the crowded streets filled with the mumbles and pushes of people freshly off the clock.

With each stranger knocking into your shoulder another drop is added to a bottle. White knuckles gripping on your straps as a pressure rises within the bottle’s glass body, threatening to shatter it.

You can’t let this continue, the mounting pressure will sooner or later detonate into a hideous mess. Best to avoid that scenarios. Eyes catching sight of a small reprieve from the crowd, you direct yourself there.

The small store front provides you with some shelter for your lungs to breathe. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. The pressure subsides just a bit. There’s still room in there, you can suppress a little more, you can endure a little longer.

Eyelids fluttering open, you recognized the name of the shop. It’s the fancy soap shop, one with the vivacious sales assistant.

Peering through the glass you searched for that brilliant shade of crimson. And you found it, right next to glimmering silver hair. It’s like your body forgot how to breathe.

From the rumbling of the late evening rush, all you could do was read their lips from behind a thick glass door.

Petite pink lips giggling behind clasped hands as Nilou looks up at Alhaitham, tilting her head to the side as if she asked him a question. His lips remained stiff, but teal gaze reflected crimson as they softened. Something you never witnessed within the quiet walls of your home.

Looks like you found the cause of the rising water bills, perhaps Alhaitham likes the smell of Padisarahs.

Your bottle couldn’t contain the ocean anymore.

It wasn’t an Earth-shattering catastrophic event, no tidal waves crashing down, no flood flood devastating everything in its path. Only a defeated ‘pop’ and its pathetic echo as your bottle finally overflowed.

Bitter sea-foam fizzled out as it made an unseen mess.

Listlessly, you rejoined the rolling crowd, letting the eb and flow of its movement carry you all the way to the front door of a false haven. Systematically inserting the key, placing your shoes into the closet, and shutting your room door behind your back. Staring at the clean floor with its intricate wood grain.

However, your mind weren’t processing any of it, busy with its calculations.

When did his fever start? That one Autumn night with a chaste bouquet. What day is it now? The cusp of Summer. How long has it been? In a few months, it’ll be three years.

A lecture from an inescapable past resurfaces.

————————

“Hey, kiddo.”

Slurred words made you stop in your tracks, small hands tightening their grip on your backpack straps.

You weren’t quiet enough, the careful steps of your feet were rendered useless when it came to the creaky wooden floors of this house. Your lungs burned for air, but you didn’t want to breathe in the stench which permeated this air.

The aroma of cheap perfume, sour wine, and cheap beer. The source of this foul smell? The freshly awakened man laying on the couch just a few inches away: a man known as your father.

Still trying to reserve your stored supply of oxygen, all you offered the drunkard was a firm hum. Not that he’d care, judging from the crushed cans and empty bottles littering the path, he’s probably too far gone.

“Did you know love is a chemical? Something called ‘phenylethylamine’?” A hiccup interrupts his sentence, but he continues, much to your dismay.

“Haha, it makes your heart beat faster and your cheeks flush because it’s considered an amphetamine, one of the most powerful drugs.” His stumbling hand blindly reached for another can, knocking over empty shells until it found one with just a bit of liquor.

“Too bad the high can only last three years.”

Your disinterested gaze trailed off down the empty hall, legs itching to break away from the lecture you’ve heard numerous times before. Lungs begging to inhale the untainted air of your room, the only sanctuary this hollow home held.

Just a few minutes was all you needed, then you’ll start mopping these foul floors.

A clink of aluminum hitting the wooden boards draws your attention back to your father who had finished moisturizing his throat with another swig of beer.

“Stay away from that drug, kiddo” A sloppy grin stretched across his face as he stared up at a blank ceiling.

The sight made your arms bristle, seeing a smile on your father’s face was uncanny. Something you’ve never seen at the dinner table, just silent scowls and disgruntled glares constantly exchanged over a subpar meal.

Wanting him to finish this one-sided conversation, you gave another firm hum, every now and then glazing back toward the hall.

“Or you’ll end up like this old man.” He wraps the conversation up with a bitter laugh, one which resonated off the blank walls.

————————

Maybe you should’ve heeded your father’s words. A brilliant scholar to the public but a pathetic drunk when within the confines of a cluttered, noisy house is still a brilliant scholar.

This was your punishment for straying away from your beliefs. You reached your hand out towards the fire despite knowing it’d hurt, and you fell in love. Now look at where you are.

How utterly laughable, you, the ever-bright Ms. Perfect, who’s broken love down to its base form of chemical compounds, fell victim to the addiction that was love.

So blindsided by it.

The fog of love is slowly running its course through him. Once the trees abandon their vibrant greens for shriveled browns in the Autumn, his fever will be over. There’s no such thing as an endless Summer.

How did you not see this coming? Covering your eyes with ignorant hands, blatantly ignoring the signs right in front of your nose.

No more flowers, no more chocolates, and no more movies.

Turning back around, you took note of a figure in a floor length mirror. Indifferent gaze identical to how your husband looks at you.

Two sides of the same mirror, what’s what you and him are. What’s the use of that? Shiny surfaces point off in opposite directions, yet only ever reflecting one view. What’s the point of having two sides then?

You don’t intrigue him, you can’t show him his blind spots, and you can’t reflect to him a view he’s never seen. Same perceptions, same hobbies, same expressionless faces, how stale it must be.

It’s much more interesting to have a wife who’ll smile at receiving flowers, a wife whose eyes light up at chocolate, and a wife who’d blabber on about a movie as Alhaitham listens intently. The beating of his heart is starting with someone new.

Emerging out of your thoughts, you stare directly at the person in your mirror.

Dull eyes stared right back, light dimmed from years of staring at a bright star grasping at its warm rays in substitution of a cold house, only for your fingers to slip pass right through.

Idiotic girl, you can’t touch the sun, not even Icarus did.

An unlovable child grew into an unlovable adult. Add that to your footnote, so you’ll never forget this lesson again. The fool in the mirror finally looks away.

It didn’t matter if Icarus smiled or laughed as he tumbled from the sky. Silly girl, did you forget what happens in the end of that tale? He drowned alone.

Drowning isn’t like what the movies show. The thrashing of limbs against cold waves, the garbled screams under the water, all accompanied by the ominous soundtrack crafted by a sound master. It’s all dramatized for the silver screen.

Muscles pushing through the cold exhaustion, mouth agape but prioritizing large and fast gulps of oxygen over cries for help, followed by the melodic lull of water lapping over eardrums until the head disappears under its surface. Never to breach it again.

It’s possible for a person to drown in a pool full of people. Just like how it was possible for you to feel alone despite having your husband just across the lacquered expanse of the dinner table. Forks and knives clacking porcelain plates.

It’s a silent death.

For once you’re grateful to attend a nugatory dinner hosted by your company. Venue filled with superficial smiles and handshakes all over food served on sliver platters. Even if the heels are killing you, you’d rather not wallow in a quiet house.

A heavy sigh leaves your lips, catching someone’s attention.

“What a heavy sigh, here have some wine to ease the burden.” A glass filled with fragrant wine was held out in front of you.

Your eyes travel up the hand which offers the vile beverage to you, sights landing on the face of your boss, Bahram. Pushy as always, always testing the limits of your loyalty to a nice pension and dental insurance.

As always you politely push the glass away, uttering a firm “no thank you.”

“Oh c’mom Ms. Perfect, you look like you could use a drink.” He pushes the glass closer.

Stares from all around the formal dinner table hone in, the weight heavy on your shoulders. Stakeholders and coworkers turn away from their shallow conversations to watch the brewing spectacle just across the table.

That’s right, you have to be professional, where was your crafted mask? Make use of all those years observing the masters of deception you knew as your parents.

So you accept the vile glass.

Before the aroma could register on your palate, you emptied the whole glass. Not a single drip escaped past your lips. It took all your strength to no scowl at the sweetly bitter and alcoholic flavor.

“Oh? Ms. Perfect is drinking tonight?” Some nameless coworker mused.

Ah, the name lightly tossed around at the office with oblivious chuckles and ignorant smiles. You despise being called that, but not as much as you despise being told ‘you’re just like your father’ and ‘you’re acting like your mother’.

Better to be Ms. Perfect, so disgruntled ‘soulmates’ can’t compare you to their flawed counterpart.

“Do you like this wine? Have some more.” Eagerly, your boss fills the glass once more.

Staring at the beckoning liquid swirling in the glimmering cup, as the weight of those stares force your hands to accept it once more.

Maybe you should’ve just stayed home.

“I should really be trying to sell you our products but… I think you’ll find a better gift at another store. Here, I’ll write the address down for you! They have the best jewels, I’m sure you’ll find something for your wife there!” Hastily the shop assistant scribbles on a notepad before pushing the slip into his palm.

“Just don’t tell my manager.” Clasping her hands in front of her mouth, signaling to him to keep a secret.

Alhaitham simply nods, examining the address in his hands. He hasn’t tried jewelry yet, but a ring would look nice on your hand. Maybe you’d think so too.

“You really love her, don’t you mister?” Nilou notes how attentively his hands smooth over the address.

Pausing for a moment, Alhaitham envisions the softness of your cheeks shifting as that tender smile spreads across your lips. Yours eyes reflecting the light off the polished and cut gem as he slips it onto your bare finger.

“I do.” Unable to stop the softening of his gaze.

———————————————————————————

A ring still left in its miserable black box, stowed away in the depths of a drawer. A sigh slips out of him just like how he let another opportunity to place the jewel on your finger pass. You’re attending a company dinner tonight, a rare occasion requiring you to dress up.

The dress draped over your figure and curves just right and highlighted the contours of your body. He wanted to tell you this earlier as you were leaving, too bad he was occupied with swallowing ‘stay home’.

There’s an annoying itch in the deepest depths of his mind. Covetous hands crawled up his spine, they tried to convince his own fingers to grasp around your wrist and pull you back into the house.

Alhaitham shakes that itch away, refocusing his attention onto your bookshelf in front of him.

You have a life and responsibilities outside these walls, he can’t overstep the boundary to block you from your individuality. Running a finger along the tops of the neatly lined books, searching for something to redirect his impulses.

Momentum halting when his finger sunk into pages when he expected the firm edge of a spine. The force crumpling the paper, immediately he pulls it into his hands, smoothing out the folded edges. Title catching his attention.

The Lifespan of Love, the only book where the spine wasn’t facing out. Flipping it to the back, Alhaitham scans the blurb, noting the portrait of the scholar who authored it.

A familiar face, a professor who’s lectures he barely attended. A distinguished researcher and mentor in the eyes of his old university.

The sight of his face made Alhaitham recall a scene he once witnessed.

————————

The halls of the Psychology department were desolate, as they always were. A much-appreciated reprieve from crowded foyers as a quiet student walks to his next exam in the department next door.

Just as his hand reached up to activate his headphones, two voices caught his attention, the high shrills of a woman and the raspy shouts of a man leaking out from an office door left ajar.

It has nothing to do with him, Alhaitham know this, but he still had 30 minutes to kill before the exam.

Teal eyes peer through the gap between the oak doorframe.

A man the student recongizes, but the scowl and flush of rage twisted his face into an unrecongizable mess. The professor juts his finger towards the woman as foul names left his mouth, the same mouth which lectured the brightest minds of Sumeru.

The woman screams back equally loathsome words, tears leaving mascara trails down her red cheeks. Suddenly, she grabs a lamp off his desk and hurls it to the floor.

For a brief moment, the scholar pauses as his eyes scanned over the broken debris scattered along the floor. Then his fist slammed into the solid oak of his desk, thud so forceful the office ratted with the poor furniture.

His shouts resume, volume escalating by the minute.

Alhaitham backs away from the door, turning on his noise-canceling headphones. He’s satisfied his curiosity enough, walking off to his exam.

————————

A peculiar sight behind the superficial mask of a respected professor with his jolly grin and light hearted jokes with students. Inspecting the name printed just underneath the portrait, a furrow forms between his brow as he scrutinizes the spelling closer.

The professor’s last name was spelled the same way as yours.

Oh. So this is the source you were citing back then. Numbers and figures published by a notable name backing your rebuttal to the societal notion of a soulmate. Inquisiveness rearing its impatient nose, inciting his hands to choose this book as his subject tonight.

You never told him, so he never asked. This was a chance to peer into a view sealed behind your closed lips.

To study, dissect, and analyze the resources which congergated together to form the you of today. Alhaitham isn’t going to deny such an opportunity.

Teal eyes glance at the ticking hands of a clock, he’s got a good few hours of reading before you return.

The distinct rumble of an engine leaking in through the living room window interrupts his peace, the slam of car doors causing Alhaitham to promptly fold over the corner of the page he has yet to finish.

The dinner must have ended.

Getting up from a cushy couch, Alhaitham makes his way toward the entranceway.

His keen ears picking up the unmistakable hearty chuckle of a man, Alhaitham stills for a brief second before continuing to the door.

Before the chime of the doorbell had the chance to sound throughout the home, Alhaitham already pried open the front door.

Teal gaze darkening as they examine the display on the front steps.

Your arm around the shoulder of another man while his arm was snaked around your waist, pressing your body against his as he supports you up the steps.

The sound of the hinges directs the man’s attention to the homeowner currently staring at him, oblivious to the way Alhaitham’s grip threatens to crush a metal handle behind solid oak.

“Oh! You must be Ms. Perfect’s husband. I’m Bahram.” The man greeted.

Alhaitham already knows him. He’s seen that name flash up enough times across your phone. He’s seen you pick up no matter the hour and step out into an empty room.

A new habit of yours which started some months earlier.

“Haha! She drank a bit too much tonight.” The jovial man continues, his hand still resting on your hip.

Drank? You drank? You don’t so much as glance at Alhaitham’s wine cabinet at home, yet you drank with this man? The begins of scowl start to set into Alhaitham’s face.

“I’ll bring her inside for ya.” Bahram takes a step forward only to be blocked by a towering frame topped with ashen hair.

“I’ll take it from here.” Alhaitham barely bit back a pointed tone, forcibly smoothing it over to make his voice pass as neutral.

Prying that hand off your hip and your arm from Bahram’s neck, Alhaitham’s strong hold supports your slumping figure against his own body.

Pulling you across the threshold of the front door, finally putting some distance between you and that damn boss of yours.

“Have a goodnight.” Venomous lie rolling off Alhaitham’s tongue as he firmly shuts the oak door, not bothering with any more pleasantries.

It didn’t take much effort to carry you into the living room. Setting you down on the sofa then kneeling down with dexterous fingers, Alhaitham freed your feet from the chokehold of those heels.

You make a mental note to throw them out tomorrow morning.

“Thank you,” you breathed out, relieved to finally be home.

Your husband doesn’t respond as he walk away to place your shoes into the closet. The lingering taste of wine churns your stomach, you needed some water to wash it out.

Carefully, you amble into the kitchen, grabbing a glass and filling it with fresh water. Praying it can finally rid you of that foul flavor.

After three glasses of wine, your stakeholders and coworkers finally turned their attention elsewhere. You’ve entertained them enough.

Granting you the freedom to push away anymore glasses your boss offered, only getting him to stop after you agreed to his offer of driving you home.

What a troublesome night, your mood sourer than it has been for the past few months.

As you fill up your glass again your ears catch the pattering of Alhaitham’s steps as he trails into the kitchen, stopping only a few paces away watching you glup down your second glass.

“Did you enjoy yourself tonight?” His husky voice resounds from behind you as his finger taps against the marble countertop.

“No.” You fill rinse out the cup, the stubborn grip of wine not releasing your tastebuds just yet.

“Oh? It sure looks like you did.”

Your body stiffens as your turn the faucet off, glancing over your shoulder with eyes narrowing.

“What do you mean by that?” Your tone a bit more sharp than you’d like it to be.

“I’m certain you know exactly what I mean.” Alhaitham stops his tapping as he lays his palm flat on the table, teal eyes boring straight into you.

“Well, well looks like your assumption is wrong.”

“I doubt it, stop mincing your words and just say you enjoyed a few drinks with your boss.”

Your body turns around fully, glaring stare connecting with his teal one. Ticking of a clock sounding throughout the quiet kitchen.

So that’s why he’s behaving like this, partners with wandering eyes tend to project their hypocritical insecurities onto the other after all.

“Then why don’t you say you’ve been enjoying your visits to Nilou?” Something more venomous than sour wine drips off your words.

“How is she related to this conversation?” His eyes narrowing at you, unlike the same teal irises that reflected the scarlet of her hair.

“You know exactly what I mean.” You spat his own words back at him, maneuvering around him as you make your way back to your room.

At this point you weren’t sure what was the cause of the headache threatening to form.

The wine? This deafening silence? Or the thought of Padisarahs?

You don’t care, you want to go to bed. The thuds of his steps weren’t far behind yours as you trek through the halls.

“Our conversation hasn’t concluded.” His deep voice ringing in your ears.

“Yes it has.” Your room was just in sight.

“No it hasn’t.” His hand encloses around your wrist.

There you were, halfway through the doorframe of your room with the pull of his hand preventing you from getting the rest you want.

There’s no longer any space left in a shattered bottle, just a rippling ocean getting rougher and rougher with each deep breath.

“Can’t you be honest?” His ironic, paradoxical words causes the tide to crush against each other.

“Can’t you be honest? Do you think I wouldn’t notice your showers right as you come back from ‘work’? You’ve been driving the water bill up with your cover-up efforts.” Glaring right into those damn beryl eyes, frown breaking your stiff lips.

“Cover-up? What a bold accusation coming from the same person who awaits a call everynight.” He mirrors your scowl.

“Maybe its because work offers better company than this stifling house.”

Alhaitham grip tightens on your wrist as his lips press into a firm line, indecipherable stare weighing down upon your frame. His broad shoulders rise as he takes a deep breath.

“Strip,” he commands.

“Have you gone mad?” You snap back, unable to budge in his hold.

“Yes, furious even.”

It didn’t take much effort for him to make his way into your room, pulling you in as well. You could barely keep up with it all, glaring at him but it didn’t affect him one bit.

The movement causes your dress to shift. Glancing down you realize a strap of your dress slipped off, leaving one side of your breast dangerously exposed.

With swift strides, he arrives at the edge of your bed. It’s rare for you to dawn such attire, applying a lovely shade of crimson to those plush lips, and tying your hair up so nicely. Did you get all dressed up for Bahram? Why couldn’t it be for his viewing only?

Tsk, noisy nonsense is cluttering his mind, those the claws of a green-eyes monster digging into his last shred of restraint. Seizing his rationality in its ugly, greedy hands tighter and tighter the longer your soft thighs pressed against his tense body.

Crashing into those crimson lips of yours, one hand positioning your face to allow his tongue to catch yours by surprise. Letting the two muscles dance together as his other hand explored the expanse of your body, pulling up the silky fabric to grant his palm the pleasure of gracing your soft thighs.

‘Oh, so this is what he wants,’ you thought as your lips moved against his.

‘Fine, might as well experience what he’s been doing behind your back.’ The fingers of your free hand tangling themselves into his hair, tugging at ashen locks with disregard.

Unfortunately, the pesky need for oxygen made Alhaitham release your lips. Chest panting as his darkened gaze observed the state of your lips. Crimson smeared over the corner of your glossy lips. You put so much effort into painting them, making sure they were nicely defined.

However, it felt so cathartic to know that he’s the one who messed them up, no one at the party saw them like this. Only him.

“I’ll ask you one last time, strip now.” Not letting go of your face.

“Go to hell,” you spat out.

And the last chain broke, dignity and self-control reduced to nothing more than ash as his hunger commanded him. Go to hell you say?

“Then I’ll take you with me,” he sneers through clenched teeth, pushing you into the mattress face down. One hand restraining those disobedient hands of yours behind your back.

Before protest could leave your lips a rip resounds through the hot air. Alhaitham knows he should be delicate with it. That he should carefully pull the zipper down your back, letting the fabric naturally drape off your frame.

However, a man who starved for six years now knows nothing about patience.

You feel the silky fabric slip off, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Teal eyes honing in on the darkened patch on the thin fabric, a dry chuckle leaving his lips.

“Wet just from this? Or were you wet during dinner too?” He pulls the fickle fabric off.

You wiggle in his hold, face flushed with frustrated embarrassment at your current predicament. However, in terms of strength you’ll always lose to Alhaitham. A violent flinch jolts your body as he runs a finger runs along your glistening slit.

“What a lewd thing, has he seen this slutty hole of yours?” Alhaitham watches the way your cunt quivers with each stroke of his digit.

“Do really you think I’d sleep with my boss?” Your voice slightly muffled by the sheets as you turn your face to the side.

“I need to confirm it.”

With two fingers, he spreads your soft pussy lips apart, keen eyes observing the trail of slick starting to drip down from between them. He sees the muscles of your entrance clenching around nothing, he glides a digit in, feeling your slick walls clamp around it. Clear essence drooling out. He hums in satisfaction before sliding his finger out, you bite into the sheet to silence any sounds.

“Enjoying this?” He muses, fingers spreading your cunt again.

You don’t respond, but the glare you’re sending his way makes his lip curl into a smirk. For once he could read the emotions behind your stoic eyes, he wants to see more.

Trailing his fingers up your slit until they bump into a hard nub making your body twitch. Softly pinching your clit between two fingers, he slowly rolls the senesitve bundle of nerves as you bite harder to stop your moans.

Cunt slick but unstretched, clit throbbing but not swollen, only your essence coating his fingers. Looks Bahram hasn’t gotten the chance to taste you yet.

Calming the thrashing of a green-eyed beast just slightly. However, this wasn’t enough. Alhaitham feels the parchedness of his throat as his eyes scan over your glistening slit.

Alhaitham once believed that the touches exchanged when his fingers brush against yours while passing plates, when you pull a blanket up his napping frame, or when your bodies briefly pressed against each other as he helps you hang the laundry out was enough to satisfy him. That he could sustain off just borrowing your lotions.

Such a false assumption, a foolish one even. As the heat radiating off your body melts away another restraint he imposed on himself. Alhaitham realizes just how much he’s been starving himself.

Thumb rubbing firm circles into your clit, the pleasure making your legs close together, trying to shut him out but the grip of his hand stops your attempt.

“Tsk, stay still.” His strength pinning your legs apart, showing you just how ‘feeble’ he was.

In retaliation, he pushes your legs further apart. Exposing more of yourself to him, it was embarrassing enough to almost make your lust-hazed mind care.

Thick fingers gathered up drops of slick leaking out from your dripping cunt as your lewd hole unable to contain its greed. Allowing him more access, feeding into his greed further.

Two fingers tracing the rim of your entrance before it slowly pushes through. Instantly, your gummy walls clamped down on his fingers, making him hiss through clenched teeth.

“If you’re grasping my fingers this much, how will you take something larger?” His breath ghosting over your cunt.

Your toes curled in the air as a kiss was pressed against your throbbing clit, almost enough to let a gasp escape you. Biting back a drawn out moan as his tongue traced your leaking slit, starting with your sensitive numb then traveling up to lap at the essence escaping your stretched hole with the smooth muscle then back to flick at your clit.

You never realized just how pent up your body was until whines and moans just fell from your lips like water. Turning your head away, pressing your face into the mattress in hopes it’d catch those sinful sounds.

“Tsk.” Alhaitham escalated the pace of his fingers.

A sharp slap against your puffy clit, shooting white-hot pleasure up your core. With a gasp you pulled away from the sheets, unable to stop the moan which tumbled out. Hastily, you tried to muffle your voice again, only for a warning squeeze on your still pinned wrist stopping you.

You’ve enjoyed your silence, he’s been deprived of those sultry moans, so for tonight let him enjoy them to the fullest extent.

Your back arched, hips bucking in the air. Your little pussy finally rewarded his hard work with a rush of slick soaked the sheets and his face further. Swiftly removing his fingers again with a disgraceful squelch, only for his tongue to dip into the cavern they left. He slurped and lapped up every drop of your nectar, quenching a thirst he never knew he had.

Overstimulated clit trying to flinch away from each nerve-frying lick while your weeping walls beckoned his tongue to go deeper. The tightness in his pants was painful now, engorged tip rubbing against the fabric and soaking it in precum.

With his unyielding hold, his half-lidded eyes, and his unrelenting tongue lapping up all of your essence while bullying your poor nub, you were powerless. Unable to hide from his hungry gaze, nails digging into his unflinching hand, and chest heaving with the mounting pleasure in your core.

Scowl long replaced by a loose expression, the pleasure ripping through every fiber of your being. Shooting up from your curled toes to the eyes seeing only the back of your head, the edge growing closer and closer-

Alhaitham pulls away, your slick dripping down his chin glistening in the moonlight illuminating the room. Cruelly pulling back from the edge before you could taste true euphoria. No, he doesn’t think you deserve it yet. Flipping your body effortless on your back, wrists now pinned above your head.

His teal eyes drank the sight of your breast bouncing with each pant, puffy cunt clenching desperately, and the glimmering tearful eyes rivaling the stars themselves. A sight so sinful the devil is writhing in envy.

“What the fuck?!” You thrashed in his hold again, mourning the lost of the orgasm your body was denied.

“With this attitude, you should be grateful for what you got. I’m tired of waiting.” Alhaitham sneers next to your ear, chest pressed against yours before his warmth pulls away.

Tugging his pants and boxers down his thighs with a hand still coated in your nectar, trailing kisses and red splotches in the valley of your breast as his precum and your slick mixed with each stroke of his shaft. The wet sounds even reached your ears.

Making the mistake of looking down, your eyes widened as they comprehended his length and girth. Your restless pussy twitching but your legs closing as to preserve the last of your ego. Something thick pressed against your dripping pussy making your hole quiver and legs freeze as his tip threatens breach your entrance.

“Trying to be coy now? When you were moaning like a whore mere minutes ago.” Smug teal eyes peering down at you.

Another frown breaks onto your face at his pointed words. Your tongue is just as sharp, best to remind him of that fact.

“What a practiced line, you say the same things to her as well?” A mocking smile curling your lip as a scowl tugs down at his.

Too self-satisfied with your small victory to notice his large hand gripping onto your hips, aligning himself with you. With a sinful squelch, Alhaitham snaps his cock fully in. Your lips thrown open with a gasp as your back arches off the mattress.

“I. Never. Had. An. Affair. So, instead of spewing out anymore nonsense, why don’t you just moan instead?” Puncuating each word with thrust of his hips, feeling the vibration of each syllable in his chest pinned against yours.

Jagged words ready at the tip of your tongue, yet you couldn’t form a single sentence. With a broken moan your back slowly descended back onto the sheets.

Tearing a hiss from his clenched teeth and a breathless moan from you, gummy walls contracting down tighter and tighter with each girthy inch pushed as his balls slap against the slick down your ass. Nothing could’ve prepared him for this. Alhaitham stays there, tip pressed against the deepest part of you, a furrow between his brows.

Alhaitham knows he should be gentle. He knows he should allow your walls to grow accustomed to his girth by slowly rolling his hips against yours.

However, you just won’t stay still. Mewling and whining against his frame, nails clawing at his hand as your legs fluttered in the air. Each movement makes your pussy slurp around his stiff cock, lapping at the girth as if trying to pull him deeper than he already was.

Tempting his hunger like a lunatic testing a starved beast, it’ll only be so long before the hunger bends the iron bars containing it and devours you.

“AH!” A sharp slap of his hips rips a moan from your lips.

Alhaitham pulls you off his cock until the tip threatens to slip out, then thrusts it all back in one fluid motion. Instinctively your teeth clamps down on your disobedient lips, desperately trying to bite back those lewd noises. The slurping of your greed welcoming him over and over was embarrassing enough.

What a selfish move, trying to deprive him once more of your pretty moans. Provoking that ugly appetite within the pits of his stomach again. If you won’t behave, Alhaitham decides to fuck the stubborness out of you.

Each thrust of his hips into yours rocking the sturdy bed, bullying your poor sensitive pussy still recovering from a ruined orgasm. Hands and hips held within bruising grips. The pitched gasps every time he railed into a certain spot didn’t escape his keen ears, his hips now angled to bully that spot with each thrust.

How helpless you were to the devastating rush of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin. Unable to ground yourself on anything, your last wisps of sanity swept away by the waves of pleasure.

A groan reverberates deep in Alhaitham’s chest, the sudden convulsions of your slick walls trying to milk him. It was almost impossible to move with the way your pussy just kept clamping down.

Unfortunately, his hips couldn’t seem to care, operating solely on selfish desire.

Fortunately, a fresh wave of arousal aided in his rhythm, relentless slams bouncing your body and bed.

Strength long leaving your arms Alhaitham releases his hold on them in favor of supporting your limp hips, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips as lust-hazed eyes honed in on the frothy white ring forming on his shaft.

All your lips could do was babble out nothings as the headboard continued to beat the poor wall. Cunt thanking his cock with a contraction every time his tip knocks against your weakness.

The sweet moans caressing his ears, the filthy slaps echoing through the room, and your walls pulling him deeper and deeper, Alhaitham was at his limit.

There was nothing separating you two, he had enough sense left to know that. Reeling in the reins of his greed, he pulls back, fingers digging deeper into your plush skin. Well, he tried to pull back, but your locked ankles behind his back foiled this plan.

He felt so hefty in you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as his girth and length tore apart your sensibility. Something deep inside your cunt pleaded to be fed, to be filled, pushing your limp legs to lock ankles.

He feels a bit too far for your liking, blindly your hands groped at his body. Finally, reaching his face, cupping it roughly, you crash his lips down onto yours. Tasting yourself on his tongue still, but you couldn’t care less.

As your tongues tangled together, Alhaitham reached his limit. Pressing his thick tip as deep as it’d go, thick ropes of cum start to coat your walls with each twitch of his cock. His shaky moans swallowed up by your kiss.

The slurping of your pussy milking his still throbbing cock only prolonged his hunger.

Dropping his head into the space between your neck and shoulder, he relishes in what he’s been depriving himself of. Feeling the faint shiver of your neck against his face.

Something was fogging up his mind, Autumn breeze doing nothing to quell the heat burning him.

–

“Ah! Mmmh! A-ah Ah!”

The first rays of dawn breaking through the navy sky, the light so flushed by the scene it witnessed, it’s pink hue illuminated skin into the room heavy with lust and the slap of wet skin.

“N-no more… too m-Ah!-much-ch.” Intoxicated brain sputtering out broken sentences.

It really was too much, you’ve cum too much to bother remembering, from the creamy drops dripping onto the soaked sheets, he’s also cummed too much.

Pussy overflowing and spasming with each thrust pushing more milky seed out.

Cock rubbing its red tip rawer with each quiver of your gooey walls.

Six years of starvation will make any man forget gluttony is a sin.

“Too much? No More?” A husky pant between each word as Alhaitham continues with his punishing rhythm.

“If that’s the case… then why is your pussy refusing to let me go?” His chest pressed against your back, caging you further as his breath tickles your ear.

Unable to form a sentence anymore, your head pathetically shook side to side, stubbornly denying the obvious. Looks like he hasn’t fucked out of you yet, better change that. Large fingers digging further down on bruised hips, as the pistoning of his thrusts escalated.

Bed frame pushed to its limits.

Each smack of his hips against your limp body further drowning your pride out in a flood of dopamine. It’s mounting again, that familiar pressure building up in your core, making your toes curl in painful arches.

There’s a sudden flick at your swollen clit, walls flinching as his fingers encircles around the abused nub.

“Who’s making you feel this way?” His husky voice too close to your ear.

Groundless pride preventing you from unsealing you lips, refusing to feed into his ego anymore than your wanton moans already did.

“Who are you showing this shameful face to?” There’s an edge to his voice again, why must you be so stubborn?

Once more you refused to answer. Making Alhaitham’s jaw clench and his fingers roll your clit harsher, making your bruised hips thrash.

“Who’s shape is engrained into this lewd body?” Voice dangerously low as he pushes his thick tip deeper against your beaten and painted walls, fingers never stopping their torment on your little nub.

The edge was getting closer, you knew you’ll fall off it soon, you’ll dive head first into the euphoric sea of dopamine, endorphins, and oxytocin and drown.

“Ah-ah Al-mmh!” You try to collect your breath.

Alhaitham quickens his fingers on your clit, feeling your greedy cunt clamp down on him again, walls suckling his twitching tip as his balls tighten. He’s close, but he needs you to say what he’s been waiting to hear all night.

“Alh-ah a-a…” Your hips shaking violently in his hold now.

Lust-glazed eyes staring straight into equally hazed teal eyes. Shaky hands slowly weaving themselves into his damp ash locks, gently pulling his ear closer to your lips, your hoarse voice just barely audible.

“A bastard.”

Self-satisfied smirk plastered over your loose face as your tear blurred vision catches the stunned expression on his handsome face.

The heat of his touch, the chemical stirring in your brain, and the pleasure frying your nerves made a delirious smile grace smudged lips. Your sight so hazed by lust you couldn’t see where your smile was even directed to.

Alhaitham wanted to etch the sight of your debauch face, smeared makeup and glazed eyes rolled back, into his memories forever.

Too caught off guard by your response to remind his hand to stop its movement before it was already too late. Eyes seeing the back of your head, back arching under his frame, you fell back into the all consuming waves of pleasure.

A hard earned victory in this veiled battle of two egos. Exhaustion seeping into every fiber of your being. The pale pink of twilight dimming in your vision as the dark hands of sleep covers your eyes.

Somewhere in the middle of drifting off into a blank nothingness, you feel a hand tenderly guiding your head to rest on a soft pillow.

Your eyelids twitch and brows furrow as the brightness of the room crept its way behind your shut eyes. Unable to retreat back into the dark embrace of sleep, you begrudgingly open your heavy lids.

Greeted by blurred shapes and fuzzy colors, you slowly blink your unfocused eyes. Gradually, the shapes and colors merge into distinguishable objects: a mug left on your bedside table with vapors rising from its rim.

“It’s morning-after tea.” A husky voice followed by the distinct flip of paper tenses every muscle in your body.

Alhaitham’s still here. You wish he wasn’t, you wish he’d realize last night was a mistake created from the clashing of egos, you wish the other side of your bed was empty.

So why did the tightness in your chest melt away with the mere sound of his voice?

You drag your sore body up from the sheets, shaky hands supporting the weight of numb legs and throbbing hips. Your sealed lips refusing to give him the satisfaction of any audible ques of your current state.

Sitting at the edge of your bed, back bare of anything but your hair draping over the marked skin facing him, you took the warm cup into your hands.

A harmony of methodical sips and soft turns of pages fill the room, an open window washing away the haze of lust with an Autumn breeze. Just as the last bit of tea slides down your throat a gentle slap of a book snapping close brings an end to the heavy silence.

“It’s unreliable,” Alhaitham announces.

Peering over your shoulder with a quirked brow, freezing as you recognize the book clutched in his hands. Not waiting for a response, he continues.

“Anyone with eyes can see how his biases exude through each sentence. He only studied 15 couples, not an appropriate sample size for a world filled with millions of pairs. His experiments have yet to be replicated, it seems his status is what got this nonsense published.” He sets the book down.

“What are you trying to say?” Your eyes narrow in suspicion.

“Your theory of phenylethylamine having a shelf life is based on nonsense.” His eyes connect with yours with that familiar indifference.

A frown twists your face, so he still wants to argue huh. Of course, what else did you expect? You and him have long gone down the bitter circular path you’ve seen travled before.

Irritation rising in your chest, like Alhaitham had jabbed his finger into a wound you’ve yet to heal.

“Oh, then your theory must be the intrinsic truth, huh?” Words leaving an acidic aftertaste on your tongue.

“I never-”

“Look at you, so correct with no data to support your vague mathematical thesis.” You cut him off, anger replacing the soreness of your legs.

Cup knocking against a bedside table as your hand casts it to the side, getting off the bed you march into your closet, pulling a random shirt on without regard of your movements wrinkling the fabric.

You just needed to leave this room, just being by his side is making your blood pressure rise. Your bed creaks as Alhaitham gets up as well, but your back was already through the door.

Two sets of steps trekking through the halls, paces mismatched as one tries to take quicker steps to counter the broader strides of the other. Alhaitham keeps pace with your escalating march.

“It’s a critique of his research, not you,” he voices.

You didn’t want to hear it, sharply pivoting into your home office, but you weren’t fast enough to stop Alhaitham from following you in.

Now a husband wants to spend time with his wife, where was this before?

“It’s an experiment conducted at the Akademiya, how is that not reliable enough? You think you can do better?” Your body whipping around with a glare directed at him, your hideous ego showing its face again.

“Are you listening to yourself right now? Do you even believe in such a shallow analysis?” He mirrors your glare.

“I’d rather believe in something with actual quantifiable numbers.”

“Fine, you want quantifiable numbers? Care to calculate along with me? Or is your mind still recovering from last night?” Alhaitham folds his arms in front of his chest.

“Go for it,” you say through gritted teeth, accepting his challenge, wanting to shush that snooty tone of his.

“The Akasha bases its pairs off demographic, interest, and dispositions, all variables we can calculate,” he states.

You straighten up your back, staring him in those teal eyes with your head held up high.

“Sumeru city is home to roughly 1 million people. Only 1/3 are around my age.” Alhaitham begins his trail.

“That brings that number down to about 333,333.” No delay in your response.

“Only 1 in 10 people have a personality I can tolerate, then suppose only 1 in 20 of those people can withstand mine.”

“ Rounding up that leaves about 1,667 candidates.” You tsk at his estimations, that number should be far greater than 20.

“Next comes shared interest, only 1 in 4 people have touched a physical book in the past year.”

“417 left.”

Perhaps the gods didn’t think cheating you out of a childhood was enough, out of 417 people you had the misfortune of staring at his stony face.

“Having to arrange 417 separate meetings at a small cafe would be much too burdensome for the Department of Human Relations. The scope needs to be narrowed further.” Alhaitham takes a step forward.

“Only 1 in 16 will have the patience to teach a grown man how to avoid wrinkles in his button downs.” Baritone voice losing its pointed edge.

“26 left.” You take a step back to preserve the space, hating how your skin craves the heat of his.

“Only 1 in 8 of those people will allow me to borrow their books even when they know the edges of the paper will be creased when its returned.” He takes another step.

As you take another step backwards, the edge of your office desk prevents you from retreating further. The sensation of the cold wood distracting you momentarily from your calculations.

“Then only 1 in 6 people will drape a blanket over a body that hogs an entire couch for a nap, placing a pillow under my head to ensure I don’t wake up with a sore neck.” Alhaitham doesn’t stop.

Reaching an arm out, he firmly sets his palm on the expanse of your desk, caging you between the wood and the risk of your skin feeling the heat radiating off his body.

“How many people are left now?” His breath ghosts the shell of your ear.

“ 0.543,” You blurted out.

A deep furrow appears between your brows, something must’ve gone wrong in your calculation, it’s impossible to have half a person. In the context of the Akasha, one person, a whole person, is matched to another.

Once more your mind ran the numbers over again, then again, and then thrice trying to recompute the figures.

Each time the same number came back: half a person.

“Are you mocking me with those groundless fractions? Where did you even get those statistics from?” Your pointed gaze still directed at him, did he intentionally lead you down this illogical trail?

“Logic is neither an art nor a science but a dodge.” He peers down at you, teal gaze back to its neutral state.

“Ha! Says the man who places logic and rationality on a pedestal, what caused such a change, Alhaitham?” You laugh dryly, not bothering to decipher the most brainless qoute you ever heard him use.

No change in his expression as his shoulders rise with a deep inhale, exhaling slowly as he leans his face in, his finger digging his palm against lacquered wood.

“Instead of wasting time citing subpar research, you should’ve just been honest. Then maybe I’ll give you what you want and sign those damn papers you hid away in this desk.” Voice low but steady as his gaze never leaves your frame.

It was a strange phenomenon, the chirping of the crickets had halted as two bodies remained unmoving, not even a single grain of dust dare move. If it weren’t for the faint ticking of a hallway clock, it would’ve seemed like time had stopped.

How long has he known about the divorce papers neatly stacked away a desk drawer?

Alhaitham slowly backs his body away from yours, hand returning to his side, freeing you from the cage it created. Teal eyes carefully observes your downcast stare and stiff shoulders as guilt suffocated him.

All the emotions he bottled up, all the fervor he held back, all the desires he swallowed down. It all came tumbling out, spilling out into a murky, repulsive mess.

“Wife.” If he had spoken any louder than a breathy whisper, that word would’ve crumbled on his tongue.

“I love you.” Alhaitham finally allows the words which have been clinging on his tongue for years now to fall out of his mouth.

Every inch of you froze at those three words, the weight of his stare heavy on your shoulders.

“Do you really feel nothing from those words?” Baritone voice beckoning an answer from you.

You don’t dare lift your head, gaze downcasted and frozen. Because you know you’ll have to stare at your reflection in his eyes.

Phenylethylamine, oxytocin, dopamine.

All these hormones and chemicals should’ve ran their course through your body. The haze should’ve faded and the abnormality of your chest should’ve corrected itself. It’s been three years at this point.

So, why is your chest aching?

The wood grain of the floor began to blur together as bitter tears compensated for the painful stinging of your irises. There it is, your brain finally short-circuits as the logic which once held up your sanity has crumbled away.

Finally, you met his gaze, staring right at your reflection in teal irises.

“It’s suffocating to be with you… it’s so lonely in this quiet house… it burns me like fire to touch you… yet… and y-yet see-”

“Seeing you leave will kill me, ” Alhaitham spoke the words just about to fall from the tip of your tongue.

The last piece of evidence that shattered the hypothesis he cultivated for all his life. If soulmates don’t exist, if the concept of an ‘other half’ doesn’t exist, then why is he feeling the same agony as you?

Looks like both theories were wrong in the end. Mathematics and chemistry unable to solve the enigma known as love.

“I… I want to love… but I’m drowning… Alhaitham.” You were finally honest, you’ve been drowning all your life, thrashing hands searching for something to hold onto.

Would you be oh so kind enough to grab that pen just behind you and stab its steel nib into his chest? Alhaitham’s certain that it would hurt less than the words that left your trembling lips.

A gentle hand cradled the back of your head as he pulls you closer. Letting those bitter tears strain his shirt and burn his skin.

No one, but the audience of a curious star and capricious gods peering down behind their blanket of clouds into this quiet house.

Alhaitham once thought of himself as a good husband. Doing his fair share of chores and paying his half of the bills.

However, seeing your broken figure barely clinging onto his stiff frame, it’s clear that his overconfident assessment was a grave error.

A good husband would’ve been more attentive. A good husband would’ve noticed the tide slowly sweeping you away into the rough sea. A good, loving husband would’ve never let you sink alone in salty tears.

“Then I’ll drown with you.” His other hand grasping onto one of yours, slowly easing it away from his wrinkled shirt with soft caresses.

Only monsters live in the deep cold sea, the only creatures able to survive the saltine waters and the pitch black nothingness. But as long as your fingers wove themselves into the gaps between his, he’ll be warm even as he sits on the sandy bottom of the murky ocean.

Maybe that’s where the two of you belonged, two unromantic and prideful fools sitting at the bottom of the ocean.

Hand in hand so that the stupidity contained between the two of you won’t pollute anyone else.

Gradually, those aching hiccups of yours faded into nothing more than muffled whimpers. Allowing silence to creep its way back into the gaps. The cause of this mess in the first place.

He has to remedy this, but what should he say? All those encyclopedias and journals he had thumbed through were all for naught. For Alhaitham’s mind couldn’t recall one fact from those pages.

One hand patting a slow rhythm into your back, trying to buy the man some time.

When logic and reasoning fail to explain the unexplained, folklore takes its place.

“According to legends, people used to have two pairs of hands, two pairs of feet, and two faces pointed in opposite directions.” He began.

“Back then, humans were powerful, powerful enough to threaten the gods who created them. So the gods split them in two. Cursing humans to a cruel search, desperate to be whole again.” His other hand still toying with your fingers.

You peer up at him, head still resting against his chest, feeling the soft beating of his heart. Blinking away the tears, listening to his telling of a myth.

“That’s the origin of a soulmate.” He finishes.

A soft giggle leaves your lips, a mixture of confusion and disbelief from Alhaitham quoting a fairytale.

“And you believe in that?” Amused gaze connecting with brilliant beryl eyes.

“Yes…because I found you.” Alhaitham tenderly brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss against your fingers as a glint catches the sunlight.

With a foreign sensation hugging a finger, your brows furrow. Holding your hand out toward the light again. Blinking eyes finally identify the gem which coyly appeared on your ring finger.

So that’s what he was doing, your tear stained cheeks shifting up as a smile stretches your once stiff lips.

Burying your head in the chest of the most unromantically romantic idiot you’ve ever known, a radiant laugh bubbling in your chest as it resonates off quiet walls.

But as he is, so are you: An unromantically romantic soulmate in love.

~Fin

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kooktrash · 9 months

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a little thing called jealousy | jeon jungkook drabble

ugh okay I’m sorry I tried making it a bit more of an argument but I just can’t give this couple angst 😭

anyway, 2.9k straight fluff. a little bit of jealous Koo and they’re both clingy af

READ STORY HERE

Jungkook will be the first to admit that this was really all his doing. His homebody girlfriend would have preferred to stay in tonight and he would’ve loved to join you but this was Hoseok. Your shared friend Hoseok was having people over and he begged and begged Jungkook to get you to come out. He wanted to have a fun night with his girlfriend too so of course he was going to beg you to come out, right?

Well… apparently he’s an idiot.

You’re having fun alright, you’ve been drinking a bit and he’s happily taken the liberty of being sober tonight so he could still drive home but unfortunately for him that meant he was very aware of the things happening around him. For instance, you talking to some guy who you apparently knew. Jungkook is not the jealous type, he’s never been because he’s never had a reason to be. It’s been known for a while now that he could get a girl if he wanted to and you’ve been the only one in his life to make him really work for it and for that he’s thankful. You helped him be able to fully explore what he felt toward you until it was all he could think about and now he’s obsessed with you. He’s not the jealous type…

“Where’s Y/n?” Sungha asked coming over to him after watching him sulk on Hobi’s couch like there weren’t at least thirty people around him getting drunk. Jungkook shrugged, “She’s talking to someone.”

“Who?” Sungha asked, looking around with a smile on her face, “Oh! That’s Jisoo, wow, I haven’t seen him in a long time.”

Jungkook turned his attention to her, “Wait, you know him too? Who is he?”

“Uh,” Sungha thought for a moment, “He’s Y/n’s ex but It’s been years since we last saw him. Last I heard he moved to Tokyo for some time, he must’ve just gotten back.”

“Y/n’s ex?” Jungkook asked looking back to you and you felt his stare, turning to him and giving him a soft smile that made Jisoo look at him too, “I thought all her ex boyfriends were shitty.”

“All but Jisoo,” Sungha shrugged, not noticing the way Jungkook’s leg began to bounce anxiously and his lip caught between his teeth, “But it was so long ago and we were all young so it makes sense that there’s no hard feelings there.”

“I’ll be back,” Jungkook said in a rush as he hopped off the couch and practically ran over to where you were.

Your breath hitched as firm arms wrapped around your waist pulling you flush against their back and for a second you couldn’t think of who it was. You’ve been drinking all night and when you get like that you tend to just talk and talk and forget everything else. It wasn’t until you felt Jungkook place small kisses along your neck that you smiled, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Jungkook whispered into your eye as he kissed you one last time before looking at Jisoo, “I’ve been waiting for you to remember I was here too.”

Your brows seemed to furrow in confusion. You’ve only been away from him for at most five minutes. You had seen Jisoo from across Hobi’s apartment and you wanted to see how he was doing. You dated when you were 17 and it was so long ago and now you were both adults so clearly there were things to catch up on. It had been a mutual break up and since you were young it didn’t hold too much meaning so in truth you thought nothing of it.

“Jisoo this is Jungkook,” you introduced them to each other casually, Jungkook was busy kissing your neck lovingly for you to pay attention without squirming. You tried moving his hands off you because he was beginning to squeeze you a bit too much but he wouldn’t let up.

“Her boyfriend,” Jungkook clarified and you could hear the harshness in his tone. You smiled, “Yeah.”

“Good to meet you man,” Jisoo said missing the way Jungkook glared at him and he looked to you, “Alright, I haven’t had a chance to talk to Sungha or Jimin so I’m gonna go find them.”

“Yeah, go do that,” Jungkook said as you finally freed yourself from your boyfriend’s death grip. Jisoo’s brows scrunched together in confusion but he still smiled and waved you both goodbye.

“You having fun?” You asked him, slurring on your words a bit as you felt his hand go back to you waist not letting you get far from him without holding onto you. He shook his head no, “You ditched me.”

You laughed softly, still not processing how he was feeling in your drunken state, “I was just talking to Jisoo. I haven’t seen him in year—“

“Yeah and he’s your ex boyfriend that you ditched your current boyfriend to see,” Jungkook said following you down the hall toward the bathroom, stepping on the back of your shoe on accident.

You shook your head, “Yeah sorry, we ended up talking about his work so…”

You cut yourself off when you felt him step on your shoe once again but this time your foot actually lifted and it kind of hurt. “Ow!”

“Sorry,” Jungkook mumbled, “Can I go with you?”

“Where?” You asked before it dawned on you, “To the bathroom?” He nodded his head eagerly and you released a sigh, “Sure.”

You let him in and as you tried using the bathroom Jungkook distracted himself by rummaging through Hobi’s things. You hurried up to finish and you practically had to push him to the side to get to the sink. When you left, he was right there trying to hug you like you weren’t trying to walk and it was beginning to be a bit much. You were a little drunk and when you drink you tend to get hot and with him trying to hold you and step on you, you were starting to get a little annoyed. What was his deal?

He followed you into Hobi’s kitchen where you left in search of something to drink other than alcohol. Jungkook wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you into him before you could even grab a drink, “Can we leave yet?”

“We just got here not that long ago,” you told him, feeling him begin to kiss along your neck again.

“Yeah but you’ve been ignoring me all night and I just want to lay in bed with my girlfriend an—“

“Jungkook!” You groaned when he accidentally pushed you too close to the counter in an attempt to follow you even if you didn’t move and made you hit your hip against the corner, “Ow!”

“Sorry,” he rushed out to say, hand down on your hip to try and soothe the pain but you were annoyed and drunk and hot.

You released a huff in annoyance, “Jeez, you’ve stepped on me and now you made me hit the counter, can you give me some space?”

“Y/n—“

“No, I’m starting to get annoyed,” you said pushing past him, “And I haven’t been ignoring you. I’ve been with you all night, I only left for like five minutes so stop being so clingy.”

Jungkook’s jaw couldn’t help but tense up at that as he looked down at you. You really did look annoyed and typically Jungkook would apologize and do what you asked but he felt annoyed too. How was he supposed to feel when you left him to talk to your ex boyfriend, “Fine, go do whatever you want then, I’ll be waiting in the car.”

Before you could say anything you watched him storm off angrily and just before you could get to him, Sungha and Jimin were calling you over. You walked over to them reluctantly, “Hey.”

“Hey, where’s Kook?” Jimin asked offering you another drink but you refused it. “I don’t know… he went to the car?”

“Why?”

“I think he’s ready to go, I’ll probably just say goodbye to Hobi and Jisoo and leave too,” you told them apologetically, “He’s acting weird, and I got a little mad at him.”

“Y/n… what happened?” Sungha asked making you shrug.

“I don’t know, he was fine earlier and then when I was talking to Jisoo he just came over and got super clingy and…” you paused in thought, “Oh…”

Sungha’s smile dropped, “Oops, that might’ve been my fault. I told him about Jisoo being your ex and he got up a little upset.”

“Sungha!” Jimin yelled, “They dated for a month when they were seventeen! Why would you tell him that?”

“I don’t know!” Sungha panicked, “I didn’t think it was a big deal. Jungkook never gets jealous!”

You released a huff, feeling exhausted and a little more sober now, “Alright, I’m gonna go talk to him, bye.”

You practically ran out to Jungkook’s car and when you found him inside he was slumped over his phone, pout evident on his face.

“Ready?” You asked him shyly, wondering how you could talk about it and if he really was upset. He didn’t give you a verbal response, only nodded his head as he started the car.

You cleared your throat awkwardly, “I think I drank too much.”

Jungkook didn’t respond once again as he drove quietly, not even music playing and you felt the need to keep going, “Thank you for getting me to come out tonight. Next time I’ll drive and you can get drunk, alright?”

Jungkook just nodded as he drove. His feelings were very obviously hurt. He didn’t mean to step on you or making you hit the counter but he was anxious. The second he learned Jisoo was your ex he felt his anxiety shoot up and he just needed a little reassurance from you.

It’s just… it took him so long to get you to even think about him romantically. He put in so much work for the two of you to be where you are and he genuinely thinks he’s in love with you. He can’t help but feel hurt knowing your ex can come out of nowhere and have all your attention right away and if you’re still on good terms then who's to say there’s not still lingering feelings there? He doesn’t want to lose you when he just got you.

Tonight Jungkook was staying over at your place even if he was a little mad at how you yelled at him when he just wanted to be with you. Even mad he wanted to spend the night with you so obviously he was going to follow you.

“Koo,” you said softly as you followed him up to your own apartment. Jungkook waited quietly for you to unlock the door and you had to repeat yourself, “Are you hungry? Should I put a pizza in the oven?”

“If you want,” Jungkook shrugged as he threw himself on your couch sullenly. You released a small sigh, “Do you want water?”

“Sure.”

He didn’t mean to brush you off but he really was upset. Maybe he’s overthinking it but it really was hard to get you to like him back and he’s just worried… he doesn’t want you to realize that you could probably do better than him.

“Jungkook,” you used his full name now as you set the glass down on the coffee table and made him sit up. Without thinking you planted yourself on his neck but he couldn’t even look at you, “Hey.”

“Hm?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“A little,” he admitted, not wanting to bottle this feeling up, “I didn’t mean to be too clingy but you yelled at me in front of everyone and… and you didn’t even introduce me to your ex as your boyfriend. It’s like you didn’t want him to know.”

You shook your head sadly, “No, it’s not like tha—“

“Then what is it, Y/n? You ditch me to talk to your ex boyfriend then get mad at me for wanting to be with you?” Jungkook felt a bit annoyed now, “Sometimes I still feel like I’m just a bother to you and you just can’t wait to get rid of me.”

“What?” You looked genuinely taken back as you turned to straddle his lap, his hands absentmindedly finding your waist even if he was mad, “No, baby, it’s not like that. I love being with you, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap on you. I know you didn’t mean it, and I’m sorry for ditching you but Jisoo and I…”

Jisoo and I? Great… Jungkook thought, he felt his anxiety spike up and couldn’t help but move you off his lap, too distracted with you so close. You released a small sigh, “I mean, we only dated for a month. It was nothing serious, we tried to see where it would go but we were 17 and better off as friends. Him and I never meant anything.”

Jungkook was up, trying to find a way to distance himself so you wouldn’t see how hurt he was. Maybe he was being dramatic but what if now that you’re adults you want to try it again with Jisoo? What will happen to him if you do?

“Jungkook…” you whined as you hopped off the couch, surprising him by wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind, “Please don’t be mad at me. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there, I’m sorry.”

Jungkook took a deep breath, feeling his anger slowly dissipate but he needed to stay strong. You yelled at him and you were mean, it wasn’t fair.

He tried to talk but you only clung to him harder, “Kooky, look at me please.”

He took a deep breath, hand going over yours as you hugged him, “I’m upset.”

“I know,” you told him honestly as you moved to hug his front, feeling his arms slowly come up to your waist, “I’m sorry, I don’t want you thinking I want to be with anyone but you. I’m serious, I feel really bad.”

Jungkook huffed in defeat as his hand came up to the back of your head, “Are you going to yell at me like that again?”

“No!” You said feeling hopeful, looking up at him like he was the moon and stars, “I mean it. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”

“Mm,” he released a sigh as he thought about it, “Was I really being too much?”

“No! No,” you should your head, “No, I get it now. I was ignoring you and you just wanted to be with me but I got mad. No, I love when you get like that, it makes me feel wanted.”

“Of course I want you!” He said suddenly, “Baby, I’ve never felt that way before… I just felt scared that you would realize that you only began dating me because I basically pressured you to and seeing someone you used to have feelings for made you reali—“

“Jungkook, I love you.”

He froze, words getting caught in his throat, “You do?”

You nodded cutely, still hugging him tightly, “Of course I do, you’re the sweetest guy I’ve ever met! And you’re so cute and funny and I want to be with you all the time even if I suck at showing it. I’m sorry for making you feel like I would leave you, that’s not right. I want to be with you and only you, nobody else, please don’t be mad at me. I don’t like it.”

Jungkook brushed your hair out of your face as he thought about it for a second, “I’m so in love with you, Y/n. So fucking in love that I’m feeling things I’ve never felt before and I don’t know how to respond to this new jealousy feeling.”

“I’m in love with you,” you repeated and this time around he felt his heart burst into millions of butterflies, “And I’m so sorry.”

“Ugh,” he huffed out, “I can’t be mad at you even if I tried.”

“But it’s okay if you are,” you told him honestly — and cutely that he had to smile — “I don’t blame you for getting mad if I’ve done something to upset you. Don’t feel like you always have to be happy with me and let me have my way.”

“Okay,” he kissed the tip of your nose, “But I love you too much to stay mad.”

“Koo!” You whined, stomping your foot a little as you tried to pull away, “You can’t always be happy with me—“

“I can’t help it,” he whined too, cheeks flushing red at how cute he thought you were, “I was just being dramatic.”

“No, you weren’t, I was in the wron—“ you ended with a small squeal as Jungkook picked you up.

“We’ll talk tomorrow,” Jungkook finally said, “For now let’s get to bed and let me cuddle you.”

“I’m sorry for earlier,” you said, legs wrapping around his waist on instinct, practically clinging to him, “Seriously.”

“I know,” Jungkook smiled, “And if you really want to make it up to me then you can get your cute butt in bed and go to sleep.”

“So you’re not mad at me anymore?” You asked with a small yawn as he made it into your room and set you down gently on your bed. He went ahead and closed the door, shutting you into darkness as he joined you, “No, baby, I love you too much to stay mad.”

“I love you more,” you said and you felt disgusted by your own cheesiness.

He smiled though, loving every second of it, “No, I love you more.”

“Not true.”

“Yes true.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No—“

“Yes! Now go to sleep.”

::.

ugh I just genuinely feel like they can’t stay mad at each other for long

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#jeon jungkook #jungkook drabble #jungkook request #jungkook au #jungkook #jungkook imagine #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #Jungkook fic #seven days to love

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pix3lplays · 3 months

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@sailorstar9 who hit me with “ex-husband Aventurine trying to woo you back from Ratio” because yes

And @fire-lizard-ro because they put up with me talking about this all the time lol-

Cw! Ex-husband Aventurine, you have kids with him, I’m thinking two, you’re divorced for a reason, Aventurine is petty and wants you back, reader is with Ratio now, also neither of these men are great partners so…toxic family environments and such, sharing a bed

-Ex-husband Aventurine stuff because ugh I’m obsessed-

Does Veritas Ratio treat you much better than Aventurine did? Not really, but he was definitely preferable to your ex.

At least Veritas didn’t have a chronic gambling problem or ignores the kids or spends long nights away from home doing who KNOWS what.

At first Aventurine acts like he doesn’t care at all that you’ve finally had enough and had to divorce him. Your loss in his eyes. He’ll live without you.

But if it doesn’t bother him that much you do wonder why he goes to such lengths to show off his new partners to you. And it always seems to be someone new each month. Unsurprisingly. Makes sense that you were the only person who could put up with him long enough to marry him.

But when he finds out you’ve found a new boyfriend…and it’s VERITAS RATIO?? The jealousy is THERE, and honestly you can see it written all over Aventurine, regardless of how he acts around you.

So now you’re living at Veritas Ratio’s nice place, with your kids from your marriage to Aventurine. You like Veritas. They’re not his kids, but he takes an interest in their education and helping them be the best versions of themselves. He helps them with their homework, without just giving them the answers…yeah he’s not affectionate with your kids, they’re not his, but he doesn’t ignore them like Aventurine used to.

It’s ALWAYS awkward when Aventurine stops by to pick up or see his kids. He always brings presents, always does what he can to make it look like he’s suddenly an amazing and attentive dad, but you know he’s only doing it to try and impress and win you back.

Without shame too-he flirts with you RIGHT in front of Veritas. But Veritas has heard your stories about Aventurine. He’s not worried about you going back to him.

Veritas will just listen to the flirting, maybe step in with a little, “isn’t it about time you leave?” if Aventurine is going too far.

The tension between your ex and your boyfriend is INTENSE.

And by that I mean Aventurine feels very threatened by Veritas, and Veritas doesn’t feel threatened by Aventurine at all. It’s kind of like a one sided rivalry.

Also Aventurine absolutely does that thing where he conveniently leaves his sunglasses at your place so he has an excuse to come back, but you’ve learned to foil him by letting Veritas give him the sunglasses back at the door-just imagine how disappointed Aventurine is when it’s Veritas answering the door instead of you haha…

He calls you in the evening under the guise of “oh don’t you want to say goodnight to the kids?” but he ALWAYS tries to keep you on the phone after that. Just hang up on him. If it was up to Veritas you would just block his number but he understands that’s not practical.

Aventurine would try to use the kids to win you back but to be honest?? They don’t miss him that much. Honestly they prefer Veritas as their new ‘dad’. (Plus they’re gonna wish Veritas was actually their dad when they start getting bullied for being part Sigonian. Just sayin-)

Aventurine is jealous jealous JEALOUS he hates the thought of Veritas even touching you let alone the fact that you share a bed with that man…it drives him CRAZY. He’s not married to you he has No claim over you so he has no business being so jealous but he is anyways…

Eventually he’s not even subtle about how badly he wants you back. Just blatantly inviting you to dinner or over to wherever the heck he’s staying at the moment or to the casino to help you de-stress from all that time spent around Ratio-surely being around Ratio THAT much isn’t good for your health~

Of course you’re not falling for that. You’re not letting Aventurine back into your life more than you have to.

You really don’t want Veritas to feel like he has to get involved, but he has his pride. He can only handle Aventurine blatantly flirting with his partner for so long.

So far you’ve avoided a confrontation but Aventurine needs to start treading lightly if he doesn’t want a Codex to his face haha…

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #Aventurine #Dr Ratio #Hsr Aventurine x reader #honkai star rail Aventurine x reader #Hsr Dr Ratio x reader #Dr Ratio x reader #Aventurine x reader #honkai star rail Dr Ratio x reader

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goldsainz · 3 months

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❝ THE ROCKSTAR AND THE MUSE ❞

SERIES MASTERLIST!

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . lando norris x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . every artist needs their muse.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . in my timezone it is not the 5th anymore but somewhere in the world it is soooo… jk i’m sorry for the delay on this part but i changed my mind on so many things with this fic that i didn’t even realise how late i was on posting😭

liked by mclaren, carlossainz55 and 754,038 others

landonorris Happy Valentine’s Day to this girl who has forever rocked my world and makes my heart beat uncontrollably.

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yourusername my heart beats uncontrollably for you too 🤍

⤷ landonorris ❤️❤️❤️

yourusername did me dirty with that second pic

⤷ landonorris You look beautiful wdym?

⤷ yourusername 🧍🏻‍♀️

landofan1 need someone this obsessed with me

landofan2 bye the second photo is me on my best day and she’s complaining

ynfan1 Y/N IS SO CUTE

landofan3 the reason i believe in love:

ynfan2 “this girl who has forever rocked my world” sleeping on the highway tonight!

ynfan3 they are the best couple on the grid no doubt about it

⤷ landofan4 best wag and best driver

⤷ landofan5 SAY IT LOUDERRRR

landofan6 how he bagged her is beyond me

ynfan4 these are my parents. they don’t know it but they are.

ynfan5 they’re so perfect together i can’t

⤷ ynfan6 their humour is unmatched

landonorris updated their instagram stories!

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yourusername london you were amazing! thank you to everyone who decided to spend valentine’s day with me and the band 💜 also big big thank you to my personal photographer lando norris who has done a night job at capturing my best angles (most of the time anyways) and who i love and cherish with my whole heart.

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landonorris I love you, my rockstar

⤷ yourusername i love you, my muse

ynfan21 mama y papa

ynfan22 UGH I LOVE THEM

landofan21 i was in the crowd and y/n was looking at lando so much during the show

landofan22 i don’t know if i wanna be y/n or lando

ynfan23 “my muse” SHUT UPPPPP

⤷ landofan23 OKAY BUT “my rockstar”??? INSANE

landofan24 i fear no one is doing it like them

landofan25 lando has been 100x hotter since being with y/n

-ˋˏ *.· taglist . . . @lorarri @lpab @noncannonships @lunnnix @elliegrey2803 @saintiastri @saintslewis @leoramage @toomuchdelusion @anthonykatebridgerton @enhacolor @gulabjamoon @toomuchdelusion @louvrepool @ravisinghs-wife @nouvellevqgue @hobiismyhopeu @starlightpierre @lecsainz @kkeelss @namgification @minkyungseokie @gothgirlez @f1version @onecojg @minkyungseokie @blue1amory

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