Tumgik
#Past Toxic Relationship talk tw
conanssummerchild · 17 days
Text
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck
5 notes · View notes
chuchayucca · 6 days
Note
Tbh I'm surprised nobody else has brought up the idea of Richard being abused too
It feels like a lot of potential for it and an explanation (aside from their status) as to why Roy never got help for it either -- Richard thought it was normal.
Now this is just making me imagine a scene where Carmen remarks that Roy will "grow out of it" (it being his behavior) like Richard did in front of the other Hatz and Ross and Robert just share a Look
Anddd now I'm wondering how much Carmen knows
TW for discussions of fictional CSA/SA and mentions of alcoholism
Me too, I thought it would be an obvious assumption but I guess not.
Exactly, I’ve seen the fandom explore Carmen and Roy’s relationship regarding his CSA but never with Richard. I think it’s ashamed because there’s a lot you can write for the relationship, even outside of their CSA.
Omg that’s a good scene idea. The Hatzgang are realized there is a deeper issue, and Roy has to unfortunately unpack that generational trauma. I can see how learning his dad is a possible CSA victim, like him, starts pushing Roy to tell his parents but also discourages him because basically Richard unknowingly knew Roy was SA but never recognized it because he doesn’t know he was SA too. I also believe Richard normalized his brother’s actions too. It’s truly devastating how Richard indirectly contributed to the normalization of Roy’s abuse but he doesn’t know it’s SA. He believes those fun “games” him and his brother played were normal family bonding activities and is happy to hear his son is getting along with his brother, a brother he admired when growing up.
These headcanons might change as the series continues and the deeper I get into research.
I headcanon Carmen doesn’t know anything but has suspected something was off a few times. She never thought anything of Richard’s behavior at first because he alway been this way. When they became adults, she started questioning as Richard still had issues with intimacy at that point in their relationship and his alcoholism was at its worst. (Short ver: Richard started drinking at a young age to cope with trauma of his SA and the Uncle encouraged this, buying him alcohol for various reasons. Modern day, Richard is a functional alcoholic but has gotten better with his drinking)
As of the moment, Roy’s parents are unaware of Roy’s CSA. The day the Uncle died, Roy did get in trouble but for separate reasons. Carmen and Richard were mad at Roy for hanging out with “plebeians” and sending them to one of his uncle’s private properties. Roy doesn’t feel comfortable telling them yet because they’re snobby, judgmental people, so he assumes they won’t react well.
#sorry if the length bothers you#This idea has been taking up my brain#There is so much to unpack about this idea like Richard’s life in the past. the generational truama. and Roy’s life in the present#I also want to apologize if some headcanons are poorly implemented. I feel there was certain headcanons I have that wouldn’t make sense-#without other pre-lore headcanons to explain them and I didn’t know to add them smoothly#I have so many thoughts for this AU they obviously focus on Richard’s youth and Roy in current#I’m currently interested in fleshing out Richard’s youth and how he dealt with the CSA without knowing it#Especially the social side of like being a boyfriend and having dumbass friends who also are dealing with their own issues. develop their-#own terrible habits. and encourage one another toxic behaviors because they were stupid teenagers#I do have a scene in mind when Roy eventually tells Carmen and Richard about his SA and have written a little for it#Like I’d mentioned there’s a lot of potential with this AU and I want to see the fandom talk about Roy and Richard’s relationship-#More so regarding their CSA experiences. I believe it can be a powerful story to write#Though one thing I don’t like about it is how I have to write for the Uncle and give him a character#just a awful character to write for#eugh#BTW I do have a sensitive reader for this AU but criticism is still very much welcome#spooky month#spooky month roy#spooky month carmen#spooky month richard#answered asks#ChuchaYucca.text#tw csa mention#tw csa#tw sa mention#tw sa#tw alchoholism
2 notes · View notes
levmada · 1 year
Text
i wonder what levi would do in a toxic relationship
#tw toxic behavior#tw toxic relationship#tw toxicity#this is a tough one i think depending on au#in canon love for levi would be almost once in a lifetime and he’d spot shitty behavior from a mile away#especially physical toxicity#he’s slamming the door on his way out and never talking to the person again#canon levi is tough and so guarded#even tho he isn’t sure about all the aspects of a romantic relationship; a relationship is so alien and strange alone he’s easily put off#modern au is harder cos it depends on his past exactly but if it was close ish to canon#in any au a cheater is dead to him#even if he’s blamed for it or gaslighted into an attempt for him to believe it was his fault levi is still gone but he’s carrying that agony#/insecurity with him to every future relationship and the grave#it’d be hard for him to recognize emotional abuse for what it is bc he doesnt understand his own most times and if he’s dating someone#he really really really really cares about them#and his present insecurity would make it easier for him to believe things are his fault#then if it escalates he’s so confused and idk brainwashed that outside intervention would be necessary. despite the fact his friends probabb#probably pointed out toxicity about his partner before and he fiiierrceeely defended them#bc he’s levi#but what abt s*x abuse. especially canon levi who has a shitty knowledge of sex and what it is he’d be so vulnerable to that i think. and#assume that’s the way it should be and take it#just in general levi is willing to accept pain if his partner doesn’t have to go thru it and the same would apply to his partners pleasure#god that’s so fucking sad#tw physical harm#tw sex assault#tw sex abuse#why am i thinking about this💀💀#levi.thoughts#levi ackerman
24 notes · View notes
starbirdaltair · 2 years
Text
I know it was toxic but damn it felt nice when she hugged me and held me and cared about me.
2 notes · View notes
hatchetmanofficial · 1 month
Note
Hi I just played this game recently but I'm curious about the lore and idk where to find it i see a lot of people mentioning boss stu (I keep reading stfu) and idk who those are do i have to read all the asked questions to get the lore going on or I can find it somewhere else? (Anyway here's a squished alan holding a red flag)
Tumblr media
MDHM LORE (no spoilers for the actual game):
This is only going to cover the backstories/extra details and the world of MDHM but does not touch what is going to happen in the game. Some TW for the lore, will contain stuff like substance abuse, suicide, toxic relationships, gore and child abuse.
Alan is the main love interest of the game. He is an assassin who lives in the woods in the town that set in the game, far from society but occasionally visits when he has "important" stuff to do. He is the second youngest of four brothers. Claude, Jules, and James. Alan has a pretty strained relationship with them especially after their mother passed away from suicide. Alan ran away during high school and has no connections to the current culture in the modern world.
Erika is a new college friend/classmate you encounter in your English class. She is the only adopted child of two dads with whom she is currently keeping secrets to not disappoint them. She works as an employee in the local skater rink and volunteers at the rescue cat shelter. Erika is very fashion-forward and is pretty smart when it comes to problem-solving and has a hobby of solving mysteries. She has a six-legged cat named Loki and lives with her roommate Rosie.
Stu is a child friend who harbors feelings for the player. He hasn't been in contact with them since they left for college as he stayed in their old town behind. He has an older sister named Toni who also left for university, his mom, and his dad who had a pretty unhealthy and dysfunctional relationship until he moved out. Stu lives in a frat house on school grounds and is a part of a band called the Critters of Wreckage (CoW). Stu struggles with pornography addiction as well as drinking as he became very isolated after not talking with the player.
Carver is Alan's coworker. I have not revealed much about him, other than he has the most trauma, especially during childhood, out of everyone. He has an estranged past he can't quite remember after being hired as an assassin. He is missing pupils but is still able to see. He has a fascination for experimenting and dissecting his victims, even though he really isn't allowed to. I would love to point out that Carver doesn't call the player "Guinea Pig". That name is for his OWN person of interest who he has yet to find. He still calls the player "Doe-Eyes" simply because Alan calls them that. His real name is Calvin and he is 31 years old.
Stitches is another coworker of Alan and Carver. Not much is known about him. He isn't human although he appears to be. Stitches, is in fact, made up of three different body parts from three different people. His head, the torso, and his legs. Stitches was created by Boss.
Boss is, obviously, the boss of Alan. No, he doesn't have a name as he simply just goes by "Boss". He is older than the town, older than time actually. He doesn't have much of a physical form but used roadsigns as a body for him to use. He communicates through images or texts from the signs.
Buck is Alan's dad. He doesn't know that Ophelia has passed away since their separation and is still in love with her. He hasn't seen Alan either but still wants to connect with his son.
474 notes · View notes
imnewherehithere · 2 years
Text
when your ex who used to try to cut herself in front of you whenever she thought you were upset with her (who you finally broke up with because she was shittalking you with her friends) accuses you of cheating (because you didn't tell her you'd kissed your boyfriend) and calls you toxic:
Tumblr media
0 notes
fandomxpreferences · 10 months
Text
One More Second
Masterlist
Pairing: Best Friend Rafe! x female! reader
TW:18+, angst, domestic violence, mentions of blood, toxic relationship, trauma, cycle of abuse, hurt to comfort, I think thats it.
Summary: Rafe has been your best friend for as long as you can remember. What happens when he finds out the truth about the guy you're seeing?
Word Count:8.2k
A/N: I do not condone any of the behavior in this fic and If you are in a similar situation, I beg you to reach out and get help. Take care of yourself. ( @sweetestdesire YOU CAN STOP YELLING AT ME NOW)
Tumblr media
You've been best friends with Rafe since kindergarten. Ever since you made him a flower crown that you insisted he wear, the two of you have been inseparable. You've even been welcomed into the family, with Ward calling you his daughter and Sarah referring to you as her sister.
So the fact that you're refusing to go out with the group for the third time in one week has Rafe standing outside your apartment. He isn't sure why you're dodging him all of a sudden, but he knows you wouldn't cut off the rest of the group just because he pissed you 
He rings the doorbell for almost twenty minutes before leaving with a heavy sigh. The two of you have been through the wringer, and you've never once iced him out. It causes a nagging feeling in his gut, but he still gives you space. 
He figures it has to do with your boyfriend, Everett. He's an acquaintance to Rafe; not close enough to call a friend but close enough to distrust.
Rafe tried his best to steer you away from him, but it was too late. Now you're acting like someone else entirely, and he can't help the feeling that it has to do with Everett.
The fact that Rafe hates Everett and his slimy personality has nothing to do with the fact he's spent almost your entire friendship head over heels in love with you. 
You've had boyfriends before and he was always supportive regardless of his own feelings.
He may have been unnecessarily hard on them and watched them like a guard dog waiting to attack, but he'd never outwardly expressed distaste for any prior flings. 
This time is different. He doesn't like the way Everett looks at you or talks to you; as if you're his property. It reached a boiling point when Everett grabbed your arm last weekend, and Rafe spoke up. That's the last time any of them have heard from you.
Now that he thinks about it, this has been coming for a while. You're steadily going out less often, and when you do you seem quiet and withdrawn. Everett is never more than a few feet from you and every time he looks at or touches you, you almost seem scared. 
Rafe has mentioned it a couple of times but eventually dropped it when you snapped at him. He stared at you long and hard that night, genuinely taken aback by your behavior. 
You'd never raised your voice at him like that, but he decided not to press you. Despite a suffocating feeling of dread, he let you walk away.
As he drives back home, he runs through the past few months in his mind. 
He's been watching your light slowly dim as you become a hollow shell. Your once bright smile no longer reaches your eyes and your contagious laugh is timid and unrecognizable. 
Every cell in his body screams at him to go to you, but he swallows the bile in his throat and keeps his distance. He has suspicions about what's really going on, but you're always so headstrong. 
He doesn't think any man would ever be able to break you, and he assumes if something is ever wrong you'll tell him. That's his first mistake. 
His second mistake is overlooking the way you're crying in the parking lot as Everett screams at you when he stops for a drink on the way home. He chalks it up to a nasty fight and tells himself it's none of his business. 
Ultimately he knows that anything involving you will always be his business, but he doesn't want to push you further away. 
So, he continues with that mindset as the weeks pass until the situation confronts him head-on.
Rafe blinks slowly as you stare up at him, and shifts back and forth. 
"Y/N? I haven't heard from you in three months. Why are you on my porch in the middle of a storm at eight pm?"
Before you can answer, there's a loud crack of thunder and Rafe frowns when you nearly jump out of your skin. You've never been afraid of storms, and he can't place why you're so skittish all of a sudden.
He shifts to let you through the door when he notices you shiver, and you flash him a grateful smile.
You accept the invitation silently and wait by the door as Rafe gathers blankets and towels. He returns a moment later and wraps a throw around you, letting his arms linger around your shoulder.
What once was like home to you now feels foreign and tears sting your waterline. Your eyes dart around like a scared animal and the fact that everything is exactly the same makes your heart clench. The house and man in front of you haven't changed a bit, but you couldn't be more different.
"I hate him." You whisper, and Rafe watches you carefully. 
"He's a liar and a cheater. I know he's manipulating me, and I let him. Why do I let him?" You choke, and for the life of him Rafe hasn't been able to figure out the answer to that question. 
"You have a big heart and always try to see the best in people. It blinds you sometimes." He finally responds, and you blink up at him. 
"Every time I try to say something he just screams and belittles me until I lose the will to fight. I don't even try anymore." 
Rafe hugs you closer, letting his eyes drift shut as he embraces you in safety and tries to regulate his emotions. You're not the same Y/N that took a debate class just so you could argue with him better or that fights her own battles if a man gets too close at the bar. 
"Is that why you've been avoiding everybody? Avoiding me?" He questions and the way your lip trembles is all the answer he needs. 
"He's isolating you. You need to get out before it's too late." 
You nod and wipe your eyes, trying to keep the fresh tears at bay. 
"I know."
The squeaky pitch of your voice as you talk around the lump in your throat breaks Rafe's heart. He presses your face into his chest as he cradles you and you melt into him as sobs rip from your lungs, unable to control the violent tremors wracking through your body. 
He's able to calm you down and within a couple of hours, everything seems to fall back into place. You're laughing and smiling with him just like you always have, and a dangerous glint of hope sparks in Rafe's chest.
"It's almost midnight. I should go."
Rafe tenses upon hearing your voice, and his head whips to the side to look at you. 
"Go where? You know you're welcome to stay here."
There's an underlying desperation, and it sears your chest as you give him a sad smile. 
"He'll be worried."
Just like that, the woman he loves is gone again. Any talk of leaving has flown out the window, and it's like you have amnesia. You seem to have forgotten what led you here to begin with, and Rafe shakes his head. 
"I'll be worried." 
He's practically stepping on your heels as he follows you through the house, and you stop to face him. Your hand gently cups his cheek and you give him one last lingering stare before closing the door behind you. 
Rafe is trying to convince himself you'll come to your senses, but he doesn't really believe it. You're already caught in the riptide of abuse, and he knows you're more likely to drown than swim.
He fights every instinct in his body; trying his best to ignore the way he seems biologically hardwired to protect you. He would kill Everett with his bare hands if given the opportunity, but the only thing stronger than his anger is his love for you.
At the end of the day, you hold the power. If you say jump Rafe asks how high; and if you tell him to stand down, he'll follow that order.
His hand trembles as it raps against your front door. Rafe talked to you a couple more times after that night, but it's now been almost a week since he last spoke to you. He finally broke down and drove over.
He waits for a few minutes, periodically ringing your doorbell when he doesn't receive a response. His heart rate skyrockets with each passing second, and he paces back and forth a few times.
Worry clouds his judgment and he walks around the building to peer into a side window. His knuckles blanche as his nails leave crescent moon indents on the palms of his hands when he sees the state of your apartment.
What was once warm and cozy with candles he helped choose and memories sitting on every table is now a war zone. From what he can see, there's shattered glass from your favorite photo frame and some fist-shaped holes in the wall.
It seems every piece of Rafe has been erased as he scans the area. The pillow he got you of his face as a joke a couple of years ago isn't in its usual spot on the couch, and every single picture has been replaced. 
Your coffee table lays on its side in the living room, the decorations that usually adorn it scattered on the rug. He doesn't even want to know what the rest of the place looks like. 
Obviously, he knows your relationship with Everett is toxic but he didn't know the extent of it. You showed up a few times after that first night and confided carefully selected details, but you always insist that Everett is a nice guy and would never physically hurt you. 
No matter how hard Rafe tries to convince you it won't get better and that you can't change him, you always go back.
If Everett is destroying things and punching walls, Rafe knows it's only a matter of time before he starts taking it out on you; if he hasn't already. The thought makes his stomach lurch and his heart hammers in his chest as his thoughts are consumed by the need to find you. 
He hears crying inside and his eyes flutter closed as he prepares for the worst. His feet carry him back to the front door and he jiggles the knob. 
"Y/N, I know you're in there. Let me in." 
He sighs heavily and weighs his options. On one hand, he could just break the door down; but that would only scare you more and he doesn't want that. 
On the other hand, you could be seriously hurt and unable to let him in. He runs his hand over his head in genuine distress before remembering he has the key.
He's never had to use it before; you always leave the door open for him. He quickly turns the key in the deadbolt and eases his way past the threshold.
"Y/N?" 
He slowly makes his way toward your whimpers, and each step only amplifies the weight crushing his lungs. Your apartment is completely trashed and he wonders if this is an accumulation or the result of a single rage fit.
He finds you on the bathroom floor surrounded by shards of glass, and his blood runs cold.
"What has he done to you?"
His voice is barely above a whisper, yet you hear him crystal clear.
Wails rip from your throat when you see your best friend and he silently bends down to scoop you up. 
"You have a lot of skin exposed and I need to check you for cuts, okay?" He assures you with a kiss to your temple.
He carries you to the living room and sets you down gently, blue eyes glossy as he starts to look you over. His hands roam your skin as he scours your body for injuries, and he glances up momentarily when you lean into his touch.
"Are you okay? Did I hurt you?" 
Your head shakes from side to side with a small grin and he can't help but match your expression. 
"M'fine. Just missed you."
He finishes up and breathes a little easier when he sees you're unscathed, but his chest still feels like it has a boa constrictor wrapped around it. 
"You have to leave. He's taking his anger out on objects because of how badly he wants to hit you. Sooner or later it won't be enough, and he will." He whispers and your throat feels like you swallowed razor blades. 
"I know you think you love him, but this isn't love. I'm not trying to overstep, but I'm begging you. Please leave before it gets any worse." 
You nod slowly and a few minutes later he's watching as you pace around on the patio with your phone pressed to your ear. Rafe had insisted on ending the relationship for you, but once again, what you say goes. 
Everett didn't take the news well, but for almost two weeks things have been some semblance of normal. 
Then it all comes crashing down. 
"Who's that from?" Rafe frowns and you nearly jump out of your skin at his sudden appearance. 
"Everett."
He scoffs as he stares down at the diamond necklace, but his snarky comment dies in his throat when he sees the look in your eyes. 
It's one he recognizes well. It's a mixture of longing and hope; a dangerous combination that never ends well.
"Y/N…you can't seriously be considering going back." 
It's a pointless question, Rafe knows this. He knew the second you uttered Everett's name that he'd already lost. 
Your head tilts to the side as you blink up at him, and his heart sinks. You look sad almost; like you know this is going to hurt him but you can't stop yourself.
No words are spoken, a silent conversation between two old friends is had between teary eyes instead. 
A few hours later, Rafe watches helplessly as you take your bags and leave him once again. Too many tearful apologies and promises to get help and change have happened for him to change your mind.
A month goes by with no contact. Rafe can't seem to escape the thought of you; if it's not something that reminds him of you, then it's Sarah or one of the kooks. 
They've all grown concerned as well, and Rafe is dodging questions that he also wants the answers to left and right.
Rafe frowns when the doorbell rings, and slowly makes his way downstairs. No one else is awake seeing as it's almost one am, and he stalks forward on a mission when a loud knock rings out.
He rips the door open, ready to cuss out whoever woke him up, but stops cold when he sees you. Neither of you says anything, but Rafe is already caught up. 
The red handprint on your cheek combined with the finger-shaped bruises on your bicep clued him in. He takes a deep breath but remains silent. The way he looks straight through you causes fresh tears to burn your waterline and your lip quivers.
Rafe prepares for the dam to break and tries to brace himself for the sight of you crying. You're his one weak spot, and seeing you upset is enough to send him to war with a smile.
"You were right."
You barely choke the words out before losing control, and Rafe catches you the second your knees give out. He wraps you in his embrace and smooths down your hair as you bawl into his shoulder.
Rafe's cheeks are hot and splotchy as his own tears fall freely while he comforts the woman that holds his heart. He sniffles as he pulls you closer, finally just wrapping your legs around his waist as he supports you.
Your body trembles against his and he swears having bleach injected into his heart would hurt less than this. This is not the fearless Y/N he loves that pushed him to conquer his fear of heights on the playground, or his stubborn best friend that practiced by his side every day of football season just to prove she could keep up with him. 
"Come stay with me. Please don't go back again. You need to leave for good before I have to bury you."
It takes a second, but Rafe breathes a sigh of relief when you agree.
"Okay, I promise." 
Rafe presses a kiss to your head but doesn't say anything. He wants nothing more than to believe you, but he's heard it all before.
As if he has a sixth sense, Rafe can tell you're slipping away. It's been three weeks, and the break-up blues have only worsened. 
Three weeks later you're back in Everett's arms and the group watches Rafe wither away right alongside you. The dark bags under his bloodshot eyes are impossible to miss as stress and insomnia rear their ugly heads. Every night he resists the urge to go to you, staring at the ceiling and wondering if you're okay before the exhaustion consumes him. 
Rafe returns home from a night out to find you barefoot on the front porch with a busted lip and reaches his breaking point. He shifts a couple of times as his keys dangle from his fingers, itching to unlock the door and let you reside for as long as you please.
Instead, he shoves his hand in his pocket and swallows thickly. He can see in the way you're nibbling your fingers that you know what's coming. You know you've taken too much and are the cause of Rafe's torment. 
His eyes hold nothing but anguish as he looms over you, and he takes a second to memorize your face. Something about it feels so intimate and final. 
Rafe has to force himself to speak and the words drip off his tongue like acid, leaking down to erode his heart. 
"I can't keep doing this, it's killing me. I know I can't make you do anything, but he is never going to get better, bug."
You whimper at the use of his nickname for you. He'd always try to steal you from Sarah and you would always tell him to 'quit bugging you.' So one day he started calling you Bug and it stuck. 
He watches your sunken eyes fill with more tears and has to pinch his leg through his pocket to keep from giving in. 
"You can't change evil. I just want what's best for you, and I can't keep watching you run back to someone who breaks you every single time. If you decide you've had enough, I'm always here. But until you're ready, I need you to stop showing up here." 
Every ounce of his existence is screaming for him to take it back and just surrender to doing the same dance, even if he knows how it ends. The heartbreak between the two of you is palpable as you peer up at your oldest and closest friend.
There are unspoken emotions between the two of you, a heavy sense of grief falling over you as what might have been slips further into the distance. Something about this feels more like a 'goodbye' than a 'see ya later'.
He's hoping and praying that you relent; tell him that you choose him and you'll really stay away this time. He leans into your touch when your thumb rubs over his cheekbone, and tries to commit the feeling to memory.
"It's okay, Slim Shady. I understand."
The nickname that would usually elicit an eye-roll and a smirk now does nothing but rub salt in the gaping wound. It's a moniker only you're allowed to use following an unfortunate dare in middle school.
His nose scrunches up and he tilts his head to the side, silently pleading. There's so much love and pain in his eyes, and you know he feels guilty.
You nod your head with a small grin, a reassurance that you're not mad at him for turning you away. His hand comes up to lace his fingers through your own, holding them to his cheek for just a second longer. 
Another second is all he needs; that's what he tells himself each time the clock ticks. One more second and he'll be able to navigate his miserable existence without you. One more second and this won't hurt so bad. One more second, one more second, please God, just one more second.
Eventually, fate's cruel hands call the time of death on your relationship and the time runs out. Rafe nearly buckles when you finally retreat, and his entire world burns around him.
You turn to leave and Rafe holds your hand until it's forced to slip away, and his own hand stays hovered in the air where you just stood.
The second you're gone he crumples on the steps to Tannyhill.
He sits with his head in his hands with sobs ripping through him as the gravity of the situation crushes him. You're the only person Rafe has ever truly loved and trusted, and he just watched you walk away knowing there's nothing else he can do.
Having you show up on his doorstep was torture, but not having any contact is hell. He swears he's aged ten years in the span of a few weeks. It's been almost three weeks since that fateful night, and you've stayed away like he told you. 
Though, it hasn't helped, and he's the most anxious he's ever been. His heart drops every time his phone goes off, scared out of his mind that it's going to be his worst nightmare realized. 
He's startled out of his thoughts by Barry kicking his foot while nodding at the table. 
"Yo' phones ringing homie."
It takes a second for the words to register, but once they do he leans forward and frowns at the unknown caller ID. 
"Hello?"
"May I speak with Rafe Cameron?" A woman asks and his scowl deepens. 
"This is him."
Barry gives him a skeptical look and he shrugs, equally confused as to what the hell this is about. 
"Hi, Mr.Cameron. I'm a nurse at Kildare Memorial. We have Y/N Y/L/N here and you're listed as her emergency contact. Are you able to come in?" 
Blood rushes in his ears as he processes the information, and the entire world screeches to a halt. He's brought back by the nurse calling his name and quickly assures her he's on the way.
Barry watches as he hangs up the phone and rushes outside. He follows after him and stops when he sees Rafe heaving in the yard. 
Once his stomach is empty, Rafe spins around with tears falling hot and heavy. 
"I tried to tell her. I tried and she didn't listen. Why didn't she listen?"
He's gnawing on the side of his thumb as he cries with his other hand on the back of his neck, and Barry steps forward. 
He may not be a genius, but he's not stupid either. He knows it has something to do with you, and offers to tag along. An emotional Rafe is a stupid Rafe, and a stupid Rafe is dangerous. 
The two of them take off toward the hospital with occasional glances from Barry when Rafe revs the engine or punches the steering wheel.
Rafe takes off toward the receptionist with Barry hot on his heels, and the young woman jumps when they come rushing up. 
"I'm here for Y/N L/N."
It's short and to the point, and sometimes he hates how much he sounds like his father. When the woman's eyes widen and she starts rushing to get answers, he decides this is not one of those times.
She gives him a room number and he turns to face Barry.
"Text Sarah. Y/N is gonna want her." 
With that, he takes off and sprints to your room. Dirty looks go ignored as the aroma of rubbing alcohol and rubber gloves whips around him; unable to care about anything other than getting to you.
He stops with his hand hovering over the doorknob, trying to brace for whatever he walks into. After taking a deep breath, he forces himself to enter and freezes. 
You look so small in the large bed, and he briefly wonders if you've lost weight. You're nearly unrecognizable and Rafe doesn't know what to do.
He's known you since before he could count to one hundred, yet the person he's looking at seems like a stranger that he's intruding on. The sparkle in your eyes is gone, your loud and boisterous personality is silent and broken.
You look like you've been through hell with IVs sticking out of tender flesh, and Rafe supposes you have. There's dried blood on your nose and your eye is almost swollen shut, painted in dark purples and blues. His eyes rake over you and he notices older bruises, pale yellow and clearly in the last stages of healing. 
He hears your heart monitor speed up and takes a step forward. The despair in his chest is replaced with rage when he sees Everett sitting in the chair next to the bed. This piece of shit has the nerve to do this to you and then play the role of concerned boyfriend?
His jaw clenches hard enough to break a tooth and you look up at him. He doesn't ask the question burning his tongue. Why did they call him if Everett is here? Instead, he keeps his focus on you and crosses his arms over his chest.
"What happened?" You can hear the fury bubbling just under the surface, and almost wince. 
"I fell down the stairs." You murmur and he scoffs. 
"Fell or was pushed?" His eyes narrow in a way that lets you know he's not buying it, and you gulp.
"Fell." You reiterate and his eyes bore into you. 
He lets you squirm under his gaze for a second before leaning down. He braces his arm right above your head so his face is mere inches from yours, and holds eye contact.
You know it's not meant to intimidate you; in fact, Rafe used to do this all the time when he wanted you to really listen to him. It's a protective stance that doubles as a reminder; Rafe can have you as putty in his hands whenever he wants. 
Right now you're pretty sure he's doing it to exercise dominance over Everett; almost a taunt that says 'she'll always be mine first.'
"You must fall a lot since you're covered in old bruises." He mutters and you blink up at him, suddenly forgetting about Everett a couple feet away.
"I'm clumsy."
It barely leaves your mouth before Rafe cocks his head to the side and tsks.
"We both know that's a lie."
Rafe hears a chair scraping and moves forward to shield more of your body. 
"You should go."
It's not a request but rather a demand, and Rafe recognizes this. Still, he never wavers as his gaze stays locked on yours. 
"Baby, tell him to leave."
You remain silent, but Rafe knows you're struggling when your hands start to tremble. His large hand comes to rest against your neck and jaw, and he presses his forehead against yours before taking a slow dramatic breath in. He holds for a moment before blowing out and waits for you to take the hint and follow along.
He nods gently with a proud grin when you start to match your breathing to his, a wordless affirmation that you're okay and safe.
"Y/N, don't piss me off right now."
You start to glance over at your boyfriend but Rafe holds your head firmly in place as he shakes his head. 
"Eyes on me." 
Rafe knows if you take one look at Everett you'll cave and let him manipulate you.
"Get out, Everett." 
The man laughs bitterly but doesn't move an inch.
"Does it sound like I'm asking? Get the fuck out before I use your skull for batting practice." 
When Everett realizes Rafe isn't joking, he scoffs and storms out.
"He's going to kill you. It's not a matter of if, it's a matter of when." Rafe says softly and you lick your lips. 
"I know. I told them to call you when he went to the bathroom."
You can see the gears turning as he blames himself and it breaks your heart.
"It's not your fault, Rafey. You did everything you could. Thank you." 
The sound of his nickname leaving your mouth is saccharine, and he has to take a seat to prevent his knees from giving out. 
He takes your hand and presses a soft kiss to your bruised knuckles and realization slams into him; you fought back. He doesn't know if that thought makes him feel better or worse, so he pushes it aside. 
"You wanna tell me what really happened?" 
You take a deep breath and nod.
"I'll tell you everything."
While Rafe listens to you bare your soul and recount the abuse, another situation is developing downstairs. 
Barry is still in the waiting room when Sarah walks in with JJ. She was with him when she got the text, and he insisted on bringing her. Barry's eyebrows shoot up when he locks eyes with the younger boy, but he doesn't say anything. 
Just as Sarah is about to step forward, Everett nearly sends her crashing to the ground when he shoves past her. She whips around with a deep scowl, ready to cuss him out. 
"Watch it, asshole! I hit back." 
It's a subtle dig that causes him to falter, and JJ looks between them. He's never met Everett, but the way Sarah is staring this man down tells him he's looking the devil in the face.
Now, JJ hates Rafe with a passion and doesn't necessarily care for you but one thing he won't tolerate is a woman being shoved around. 
He was already pissed to hear what happened to you, but to now see this scum hurt his friend with his own two eyes? Everything about the class war falls to the side, and he locks onto his target.
JJ sidesteps at the last second and blocks him from leaving.
"Everett? Fancy seeing you here. Everything okay?" He asks with mock sincerity and Everett plasters on a fake smile. 
Sarah shoots Rafe a text, worried about how far this is going to go. 
JJ is squaring off with Everett. Why the fuck is he here?
Rafe pulls out his phone when it vibrates, and his entire demeanor shifts. He presses a kiss to your forehead and stands as you watch.
"Where are you going?" You ask and he hesitates for a moment. 
"To take care of this shit once and for all."
You don't get the chance to ask what that means before he's racing toward the lobby. He stops just in front of Sarah, using his body as a barrier between her and the men.
"What are you doing here, Maybank?"
His tone is lacking its usual bite, and JJ nods at Sarah. 
"Drove her and decided to stay and chat." 
There's a silent truce as they watch each other for a moment, and suddenly they're on the same team.
Everett tries to slip away while JJ is distracted, but he's stopped by Rafe's hand clamping down on his shoulder.
"Outside. Now."
Rafe smirks at the flash of fear in his eyes and tightens his grip. 
"I'm leaving man." Everett pleads, and Rafe pouts mockingly.
"So soon? I don't think you fully understand the situation you're in. You thought you could fuck with her and I wouldn't fuck with you?" 
He doesn't give Everett a chance to protest as he grabs him by the back of the neck and guides him outside. JJ follows after them and Barry jumps up. 
"Ah, shit. Stay here!" He points at Sarah before jogging to catch up with the three men.
They keep walking until Rafe finds a more secluded place and the second Everett turns to face him, his fist connects with his nose.
Everett stumbles back as blood starts pouring down his face and looks at Rafe like he's crazy. Maybe he is, but that's not going to stop him. Everett sees the deranged look in Rafe's eyes and turns to run, but slams into JJ's sturdy chest. 
"I don't think so." He grins and grabs Everett to turn him back around. He holds him in place as Rafe lands a blow to his stomach before letting go. Everett drops to the ground with a loud groan and Rafe is on him in an instant. 
Barry's head is on a swivel as he keeps a lookout and JJ stands by ready to intervene.
Rafe vaguely hears the two men telling him to stop, but he's too far gone. His skin burns as his knuckles are torn open, and a side of him that only exists when it comes to you is let out.
Blood runs together and spills onto the grass as Rafe assumes the role of judge, jury, and executioner. He imagines you begging and crying for mercy and finds a second wind. 
"Is this how it felt? Did it make you feel powerful as she cowered beneath you? How's it feel now?" He spits, picking him up by the collar of his shirt and slamming him back down.
"Rafe, stop! You're going to kill him and we can't take the heat!" Barry shouts as he and JJ try to pry him away. 
He looks down at the man as the adrenaline slows down and takes in the damage he caused. Everett is barely recognizable with eyes swollen shut and crimson smeared all over his face. 
Rafe's not sure when he went unconscious and he doesn't care. Blood is spilling from several gashes and JJ turns him on his side so he doesn't choke. 
Barry shakes his head and scratches his jaw, trying to think of the best course of action. He knew Rafe has a violent side but he's never seen it in person, and its worse than he imagined.
"You need to go shower and change. I'll tell the hospital that there's a guy who needs help." Barry finally says, and Rafe frowns. JJ nods his head towards his shirt and hands and he looks down. 
Everett's blood is splattered all over his white henley and his hands and forearms are sticky with rust-colored stains. Rafe hands Barry his keys and sighs.
"Pull my Rover around; I can't walk through the parking lot like this." He instructs and Barry takes off toward the truck.
Rafe flexes his hands a few times to make sure nothing is broken before looking at the younger pogue. 
"This doesn't mean we're even. It's on-site next time I see you."
JJ looks up and the two of them share a ghost of a smile before it disappears.
"Looking forward to kicking your ass again." JJ teases and Rafe nods with a low chuckle just as Barry pulls up.
Rafe drives back to his house in silence, mulling over the events of the night. He knows he should feel at least a little regret, but he just can't bring himself to care. 
His hands are going to be fucked, but the throbbing in his knuckles is nothing in comparison to what you went through. He'd do it a million times over. In fact, the only regret he does have is that he didn't do it sooner. 
He treks to the bathroom and turns the shower on before stripping down. He rolls his neck while releasing a deep breath, desperate for relief from some of the weight he's been carrying. His hand swipes at the foggy mirror, and he stares back at his reflection. 
There's blood that doesn't belong to him sprinkled across his face like a constellation, and his jaw is set as he processes the past few months. 
He shakes his head then drops his shoulders and steps into the water. 
His head tilts forward as the water runs down his face and chest and he tries to let the feeling ground him.
After a moment he straightens up with his hair plastered to his forehead and just stares at the ceiling. His eyes slowly flutter closed as tears mingle with water on his cheeks, and he lets every emotion from the situation rush to the surface at once. 
Guilt, regret, anger, hurt, all swirled together to form a category-five storm.
His gaze finally falls to the tiled floor when he starts washing his body, and he stares at the evidence of his vigilante justice gurgling down the drain. He wonders how many times your showers looked like this; how often the water ran red with your blood.
He wonders how often you've had to clean your own wounds and if you've mastered disguising bruises yet. The thought is enough to demolish any inkling of remorse.
Rafe is slow and deliberate as he scrubs his body clean before he shuts off the water and towel dries. 
He dresses quickly and starts to head out when he stops suddenly and turns around. He grabs your favorite hoodie of his before he carries on, nearly running to the rover. 
His knuckles ache as he grabs the steering wheel, but the dark purple bruises only spur him on and his foot presses down on the gas.
He blows past the waiting room, eager to be by your side again. He just wants to be near you where he can feel you and smell you and know that you're safe with him now.
He lets himself in this time, more confident in himself as he shoots you a grin. His heart swells at the scowl on your face, eager to be scolded by you so he can see your nose scrunch the way it does when you're upset.
"Where the hell did you go?" You ask with narrowed eyes, and in typical Rafe fashion, he tries to blow it off with a shrug.
"Worried about me, sweetheart?" 
It's meant to be a tease, but his smile drops when he notices how serious you are. 
"Yes, actually."
His features soften when your eyebrows pinch together and his thumb absentmindedly smooths over the creases.
"You know I'll always take care of you, bug. You also know that sometimes you can't ask questions." 
He brings your hand up to his lips to press a sweet kiss to your knuckles and vows to make sure your hands never look beat up again; even if it means his are busted every day for the rest of his life.
There's a moment of sweet intimacy before your eyes land on his hand and everything stops. Your gaze lingers for a second before drifting to meet Rafe's ocean eyes.
He can see the questions swimming in your mind as you stare into his soul, and he does his best to answer them. 
You tilt your head to the side and again, Rafe knows exactly what you're asking. 'Did you kill him?'
He lowers your interlocked hands back down into your lap but doesn't relinquish his hold, and slowly shakes his head.
He changes the subject, and you let him; you know better than to press your luck. 
"Did Sarah come to see you?" He asks, and his heart soars at the way your face breaks into a bright smile.
"Yeah, she left just before you came back."
He nods, and his free hand smooths over your hair as you beam at him.
"Good. Here, I brought you this." 
He holds out his sweatshirt and you take it eagerly, nearly squealing with excitement. You didn't realize how much you missed Rafe, but cuddling into his scent now feels like returning home after a long trip.
"You're the best!" 
He scoffs playfully, but the way his lip quirks gives him away. 
"Are you just now realizing that?"
He nearly implodes when you laugh, and he swears the sound alone could bring him to his knees. He hasn't heard you sound happy in months, and it's like a sweet summer song.
"There she is. There's my favorite girl." 
His finger slips down your face until it trails along the underside of your jaw, and he pretends not to notice the heart monitor beeping quicker and quicker. 
He looks at you like you hung the moon; like he would go to the ends of the Earth and back for you. There's nothing but pure adoration and longing that's reserved solely for you.
"Hey, Rafe?" Your voice is soft and whispy as you try to preserve the sanctity of your little bubble.
"Hm?" He hums, and you lick your lips nervously. 
"Thank you."
He watches you intently for a second before chuckling.
"You don't have to thank me, bug. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you."
His tone holds such conviction that you can't help but believe him, and nod silently. The rest of the day is spent catching up over junk food as you share fleeting glances and inside jokes.
You're held for observation overnight and the next day, Rafe drives you home. His hand is firmly planted on your lower back as he guides you towards the door, and his arm wraps around your entire torso when you stop to insert and turn the key.
As soon as you step inside, you notice the mess from before is gone and turn to face him. 
"I hired a cleaning service. The last thing you need is a reminder, and you're in no condition to be cleaning." He shrugs, and if he didn't know better he'd think the glint in your eye is the same love he holds for you. 
He quirks an eyebrow as you continue staring at him, and pokes your side. His hand freezes mid-air when you flinch away from his touch, and he peers down at you.
"Take your shirt off." He instructs and you laugh nervously. 
"That's a bit presumptuous don't you think?" 
He cocks his head to the side with a stern look you know all too well and the fight leaves you.
You sigh loudly as you pull it up and over your head before dropping it to the ground. Any other time, Rafe would make a joke about seeing you topless and leave you blushing.
This time though, he's struck silent by the sight of you in the worst way. There are large black and blue bruises on your ribcage and abdomen, accompanied by a few small scars. 
A heavy silence hangs in the air for a moment before he reaches out slowly. His fingertips brush against the battered skin and you fight a shiver as goosebumps erupt.
"I should have killed him."
The deep creases between his brows and steely gaze tell you he means it with his entire being and you shake your head.
"It wasn't all bad."
His eyes meet yours immediately, unable to comprehend how you're still trying to defend that asshole in any capacity.
"Yeah?" He asks with feigned casualty. "What are the scars from?"
"Broken glass." You whisper and he nods with pursed lips. 
"But it wasn't all bad, right?"
Your fingers wring together as you stare at the ground and Rafe softens. 
"I'm sorry, that was out of line. Hell, I'm sorry for this whole clusterfuck."
You allow his fingers to tilt your chin up and search his eyes. 
"Why are you sorry? You're not the one that did it." 
His broad arms engulf you and you melt into his chest as his familiar cologne brings your comfort. '
"I should have helped sooner. I never should have told you to stop coming. Shit, I never should have let you go back the first time."
You pull back and shake your head while cupping his cheeks.
"You didn't let me do anything. There's nothing you could have done to stop me. It was a lesson I had to learn on my own. I hid it from everybody."
You feel his chest rise and fall as he takes a deep breath, and his eyes squeeze shut.
"No, I knew what was happening. I could have done something, anything." He argues and you scowl. 
"You did do something. I called and you came; just like you always promised. You protected me, just like you have since we were kids."
Something in the air shifts as you look into his eyes, and realization slams into you. A part of you has always been curious if you could have something more with Rafe; call it human nature. 
Standing here now, it's glaringly obvious that Rafe isn't just a piece of the puzzle; he's the whole damn picture. Everything you can remember in life begins and ends with Rafe.
You allow your eyes to flit down to his lips for a split second, but it's enough for him to notice and his tongue darts out. There's a single moment in time where the thought that this is a bad idea crosses your mind before you throw caution to the wind. 
He seems to have the same thought before he leans in, and your lips mold together with his.
It's sweet and slow like molasses and the two of you fall into rhythm as if you've been doing this for years. His lips are soft like clouds and you savor the way his tongue massages yours. 
He tastes like cinnamon and whiskey; an intoxicating combination that already has you craving more.
His hand tangles in your hair and tugs at the base of your skull before he relents. You gasp for air when he pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, your chest heaving against his as you try to catch your breath.
"I'm in love with you." 
The words slip out before you can really process them, and Rafe responds faster than you can panic.
"Thank God." He mutters, pulling you back into a heated kiss. 
You succumb to him completely, allowing him to surround you in every way possible. He's all you can think about as his hand grips your waist, and your nails scratch across his scalp. 
You don't pull away until you get lightheaded, and Rafe holds you up as you give him a blissed-out smile. 
"So you love me too?" You tease, and he groans. 
"Sweetheart, I've been in love with you since I was twelve years old."
You laugh at the confession and let your head fall forward to rest on his chest.
"We're fucking idiots." 
He nods with a chuckle, and finally, everything feels right. You're exactly where you've always belonged; safe in the arms of Rafe Cameron.
Two months later, things are finally starting to look up. Despite having Rafe by your side 24/7, nightmares have terrorized you incessantly and you look over your shoulder every few seconds.
Rafe helps you through it all, holding your hand and soothing you back to sleep at night.
Despite the suspicious circumstances of Everett's condition, nothing has come of it. Last you heard he healed up and moved a few hours away.
Things are mostly back to normal with the group; you're back to throwing keggers and surfing and it's as if nothing ever happened. 
Sometimes Rafe gets a glimpse of that broken girl on the bathroom floor and has to remind himself that it takes time to heal. 
You still flinch away from loud noises and sudden movements, and he notices the way you falter and doubt yourself. Still, he stays steady and reliable; always there to catch you if you fall. 
He has to be extra soft, but he doesn't mind. It's not hard for him to treat you gently. Despite his reputation, Rafe has always been sickly sweet with you. 
It wasn't uncommon for him to give you his last cookie during lunch in school or to dip out of class early and wait to walk you to the next period, and he had no issues beating up anyone that had something to say about it. 
Even into adulthood, Rafe has gone out of his way to make you happy. Whether it's sending the group daggers behind your back to make sure you get your choice of restaurant or taking your car to get the oil changed, he's always taken care of you.
Sometimes he gets a little too loud watching a game or hanging with the guys, and he's apologizing before you can even process what happened.
You've told him time and time again that he doesn't have to be sorry and that you could never be scared of him. Regardless, he sees that battered and bruised version of you and buys an apology gift anyway.
Rafe loves you wholely and fiercely, the way that you deserve. He protects you with his life and spoils you more than you knew possible.
You're his princess and he's your knight. You bring him warmth and he brings you peace. He's everything you ever wanted and you're everything he ever needed. Two perfect halves finally united to be one heart.
1K notes · View notes
vivalabunbun · 1 year
Text
Midnight Piano Interlude in D Minor, Op. 1
Summary: Growing pains don’t go away the moment you reach adulthood, instead it goes by a different name: Regret. 
Word Count: 17.9k ( I have a problem, no I cannot fix it)
Tags: Alhaitham x Fem!Reader, Pianist!Reader, Aspiring musician!Reader, Slow burn, Slow fic (look at the word count), Heavy Angst, Smut(r18+), NSFW, MDNI, Modern AU, Childhood Friends AU, Childhood friends to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, a lot of memories from the past, Fluff, Second chance romance, TW: Character death (Alhaitham’s grandma), TW: Themes about regret and low self-confidence, Heavy adult themes, gifted kid burn-out, toxic family, unhappy childhood, unhealthy relationship dynamics, unhealthy coping mechanisms, Service top! Alhaitham, mutual pining? kinda, unrequited love? sorta, slightly obsessive!Alhaitham, Soft!Alhaitham, Alhaitham is not faultless his current views have been formed through trial and painful error. 
Authors Note: This is very experimental. I almost didn’t want to post it, but I just believe even the most stoic person isn’t without their past mistakes and regrets. Alhaitham doesn’t understand most forms of art... but he does value music. Enjoy. 
Tumblr media
There was something off about this stanza, but you just couldn’t put your finger on it. A cup of now room-temperature coffee was on your dining table, next to the sheets of music you were currently editing. Tapping the end of the pencil on your lip as you shut your eyelids. You played the notes on the paper in your head. 
It was an early Saturday afternoon, so you still had plenty of time before you had to go to your gig. It was a ritual on Saturdays that you would edit and write your compositions. A peaceful way to transition out of your lowly officer worker identity, and into the pianist you were. The thought of spreadsheets would be slowly replaced by lines of musical notes. 
At this moment there were no emails to be answered. No shallow dry small talk from nosy cubical neighbors. No long meetings in uncomfortable chairs about irrelevant projects.
Just the low hum of your refrigerator accompanying your experimental melodies. It was your time to embrace your aspirations that were contained to only two days every week, but it was worth all forty-eight hours.  
The fingers on your free hand tapped against the chipped lacquer table, envisioning the keys of your keyboard currently stationed in the crowded living room. Your fingers stilled as your eyes fluttered open. You found the error, crossing out the D major scale and changing it to D minor instead. Yes, D minor fits the somber tone of this piece much better. 
Excitement bubbled up inside you, that small tweak had finally solved that bothersome feeling that had been vexing you the whole week. Oh, you felt it, you were in the zone now, inspiration and motivation were just flowing undisrupted through you. Quickly gathering up the sheet music, you sauntered to your keyboard, sitting down on the cheap pull-out bench. 
There was no reason to worry about a noise complaint when it was in the middle of the day, but to follow social etiquette you made sure to lower the volume on the keyboard to just barely above mute. It was time to put everything together, you put your hands into position eager to press down on the smooth keys to finally hear the composition you had worked so hard on-
“Be careful with that! My unfinished models are in that box! Don’t just slam it down!” A voice boomed from the hall outside your door. 
The sudden disturbance cut off the flow within you, fingers hovering over the keys. Of course, asking for peace and quiet in this dust heap apartment complex was a luxury the residents couldn’t afford. You inhaled deeply as you straighten your back.
It’s fine, it sounds as if a new neighbor is just moving in. You were used to this, just continue forward. 
“Oi! Could you not just dump everything into the entranceway? How am I supposed to get through?!” You could hear the shuffling of boxes. 
“Most people would be grateful for the help. Especially, when the help-seeker is someone who has yet to pay five months' worth of rent.” A box was dropped onto the floor.
“I just told you to be careful! It’s fragile! And I was busy saving up to move, I’m sure me moving out is well worth the rent money.” 
“Brilliant rebuttal. Is this the same explanation you give the bank when they call inquiring about your debt, Kaveh?” 
“And this is why I cannot stand people like you!-”
Your fingers were pressing down with force on the keys, yet you couldn’t hear any melody over the theatrical bickering taking place in the hall. The inside of your cheek is currently being abused by the grating of your teeth. It appears that social etiquette is dead, killed by narrow-minded individual interests. 
The two voices continued to bounce off the wall, more accurately it was mostly one thunderous voice followed by a deep tone dripping with sarcasm. Your ears weren’t even processing the words being thrown around, their focus all on the impending tinnitus developing. 
You needed to bring a stop to this now, lest it develops into a regular performance. Your thighs pushed back the flimsy seat, lips deep in a frown. The flow was ruined. 
Unlocking the deadbolt that detained the door, you looked straight ahead as the rusting hinges sang their chaos, ready to bring a stop to this public disturbance. 
“Can you please keep your voices d-” Your sentence died at the tip of your tongue.
The sight in front of you stopped you dead between your doorway. The blond-haired man’s head snapped towards you, eyes slightly apologetic. However, his face wasn’t what you had set your sights on, no, it was the familiar face of the ashen-haired man. A face you haven’t seen for seven years, Alhaitham.
Those same disinterested teal eyes shifted their focus onto you, and it paralyzed every muscle.
The silence was deafening now, not a single inch was budged by anyone. Like a frozen snapshot in time. His gaze was heavy, it was suffocating so your eyes switched over to meet with rudy irises instead.
The blond man’s attention flickered back and forth between the two of you, taking note of how his companion’s eyes never left your frame. His lips pressed into an awkward line as his head slowly turned towards the boxes behind him, finally reading the room. 
“I’m going to start tidying up.” The blond didn’t perceive the desperation sent his way by you as his figure disappeared behind a closed door.    
Now it was just you and Alhaitham. Finally reunited after seven long years apart in a decrepit hallway. The gurgling of the aging pipes and shuffling of feet from floors above  accompanied the scene. Your body was still frozen in the midst of emerging from your apartment, and his tall figure was still stationed right across the narrow hall. 
What were the last words you said to him that day many years ago again?
“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.” 
A hand hidden behind your back clenched into a fist as you recalled that embarrassing memory. Sharp words directed toward a younger version of the man in front of you. Words birthed from irrationality and wounded pride.
Now your brain had once again latched on to this core memory, you were certainly going to be kicking your blankets tonight. What a mortifying souvenir of the past. 
The past anger and frustrations were all but lingering smoke in your hair, your heart couldn’t recall the heat of how they burned the bridge down. They say time heals, and it's true.
The years apart had gradually soothed over the tender wounds on your ego. With the pain subsided your brain was clear enough to review the moments that lead to that outburst, and it made you die internally. 
Should you just apologize right now? To alleviate the creeping guilt traveling up your shoulder, and so your poor blanket won’t be kicked as hard tonight. Can a small apology really travel across the full length of the seven-year-wide rift that had formed? Your lips stayed firmly shut, there was your answer. 
Alhaitham took a step towards you, instinctively your body shuffled three more steps away, widening the berth between your bodies. His movement paused, teal eyes peering down at you as you looked at the space behind his head. No words were said. 
This awkward scene was very reminiscent of your introduction to the ashen-haired man many years ago. 
Your parents, esteemed researchers working for a renowned corporation, had moved into a new neighborhood. The house was much larger than your old home, large enough to house a grand piano in the living room. 
“It’s about time you start learning the piano.” Were the orders your parents had given you, sitting your six-year-old self at the intimidating instrument. 
On the same day you were introduced to your new duty, you were also introduced to the neighbor’s kid. The only other kid on the block filled with prominent academic figures from the nation’s top university. A grey-haired boy was standing by the side of the older lady, while you clung to your father’s slacks. The boy’s bored teal-eyed stare made you advert your eyes to your pretty shoes. 
“This is Alhaitham, he is the same age as you. Say hello.” The stern hands of your father broke your grasp on his slacks and pushed you towards the boy named ‘Alhaitham’. 
“Alhaitham, won’t you greet our new neighbor?” The older woman’s wrinkled but kind eyes motioned to your nervous frame. 
“Hello.” Greeted a flat voice. 
Your tiny hand found its way back to your father’s slacks, grip wrinkling it even more. You were physically unable to utter a single noise. After what felt like an eternity of staring at your shiny sneakers, your father’s hand tug you away. The adults were now having a small conversation, mostly your parents apologizing for your shyness and the older professor laughing the matter off. 
“There is no need to apologize, children are fickle sometimes. But I hope that she and Alhaitham will get along. You are always welcome to visit, little one.” Her eyes peered at your restless form. You liked her eyes, they were warm.
That night you sat through a long lecture from your parents about your rudeness toward the grandma. All you could do was bow your head, back perfectly straight on the plush new sofa. You were sent to bed with no dinner that night, told to think about how your actions would reflect upon your parents. 
The invasive memory triggered by this sudden reunion left a bitter taste on your tongue. The taste that you’ve purposefully been fleeing from all these years. Now with his presence so burdensome, it was dragging your thoughts down deeper. You needed to put a stop to this before your head disappears under the water. 
So just like all those years ago, you disappeared from teal eyes. Not uttering a single greeting as the resounding click of your door was heard. 
Tumblr media
Exiting the automated glass doors, you could finally relax your shoulders. The sun was hanging in the sky this Wednesday evening, you were grateful that you were actually able to clock off work on time.
Your eyes scanned the unfamiliar buildings that decorated the landscape, all large and reaching towards the sky, light bouncing off polished windows. You were free to explore. 
Your job required you to attend a meeting about some closing of a deal between the two companies. Thus, the reason why you were currently in the midst of the upscale business district of Sumeru City. Opposing the rundown sector you called home, the sidewalks here were leveled and free of fissures. Many of the trendy shops that lined the streets beckoned you closer to their displays. 
With one glance over the price tags attached to the chic items your body instantly turned away. Of course, the prices in the yuppie part of the city would be out of your budget. 
Walking further down the road, you let yourself enjoy the warm breeze of Sumeru against your stuffy blouse and pencil skirt. Your skin has finally thawed out after being in that overly air-conditioned conference room. Turning onto a quieter side street you walked past the tantalizing smells wafting from the small cafes. 
The gig from last Saturday compensated you quite handsomely. Perhaps you could splurge a little, a reward for yourself securing a returning performance later this month. 
One particular cafe caught your interest, it was a combination of a bookstore and a coffee shop. The blackboard sign placed outside listed the daily specialties, and for once the prices of the drinks weren’t outrageous.
A small bell chimed above your head, welcoming you inside. After placing your order, you decided to peruse through the selection of novels the shop had on display. 
Most of the titles were of the new best sellers or latest academic papers. Your fingers brushed across the smooth covers, observing the different arts and fonts. It seems that you’ve wonder quite a bit down the rows, somehow ending up in a section filled with the simple cover illustrations of children’s books. You were far too old to enjoy such books now. 
Just as you turned on your heel to head back up the aisle, a brilliant verdant cover catches your eye. ‘Oh, so it’s still in print’, you thought. The Giving Tree, the title of the first book you ever learned to read. 
“Alhaitham is the same age as you, yet he’s reading scientific journals. You should learn from him.” Your mother’s eyes examined your round eyes looking back up at hers. 
Your small frame deflated even smaller, the bright aura that had been radiating off of you dissipated like morning dew under the harsh sun.
Just earlier you had your first piano lesson, the piano teacher was so excited to tell your parents how much potential you had, and how filled with talent you were. Their words made you perk up on the bench, the instrument no longer felt as frightening. 
The praise had left you in a good mood, so much so that you agreed to accompany your mother to the neighbor’s house. A book clutched in the hand that wasn’t held in your mother’s clammy grasp. You weren’t sure if you were in a good mood anymore.
The kind grandma led you to a small library where her grandson was, Alhaitham was curled up on the rug with a thick journal in his small hands. The thin children’s book in your hand paled in comparison. 
“Now, now. Alhaitham is just very passionate about reading. Your daughter is at the normal age where children begin reading, perhaps she’ll also gain a fondness if they read together. I think they’ll have fun together.” The kind woman gestured for you into the room. 
Your mother releases your hand, a cold look ushered you toward the empty spot next to the boy. Settling down on the other side of the rug, you glanced up quickly. She seemed satisfied. 
The grandma soon led your mother to another part of the house, continuing their conversation. You turned toward the boy next to you, he was too focused on the text in front of him to bother greeting you. 
Spirits a bit dejected, you opened the cover to your own thin book. It was your father that placed the book in your hands, telling you to start reading. As your eyes glossed over the figures that took up only a fraction of the page, you came across the obvious hurdle.
You don’t know how to read. No one had ever sat you on their lap and gone through this book with you, or any book really. 
The illustrations and script on the page taunted you, calling you to decypher their meanings and symbols. The pages were quickly flipped through until you hit the back cover, then flipped through once more until you were back to the front.
A foolish attempt for a miracle, that if you flipped through the book fast enough, somehow those scribbles on the pages will make sense. 
“Are you even reading?” Spoke a slightly irritated voice.
Oh, your loud turning must have distracted the boy from his reading. The flipping stopped, as you glanced at him seeing the disinterested eyes staring back, you looked away. The embarrassment this time compelled your mouth to speak. 
“N-no… I don’t know how…” Cheeks burned from shame, you could already feel that familiar sting in your eyes. Oh no, if you cried then mom might frown again. 
A sigh resounded beside you, Alhaitham shifted his body out of his comfortable position against his pillow. Oh no, is he getting up to tell mom about the dark secret you just spilled to him? You didn’t get him to promise he won’t tell, will he get you in trouble? 
“Give it here.” An expecting hand reached out, palms open. 
You blinked at the hand slowly, did he want the book in exchange for not telling? Obediently, you placed the small book into his hold. His teal eyes glance over the title quickly, before he lays the book open in the space between your two bodies. Your head tilted in confusion at his actions. But as soon as his tranquil voice read the word out loud, that confusion stopped. 
“Mmm… I don’t like the boy.” You crossed your arms in front of your small body, round cheeks pushed out in a pout.
Alhaitham just finished reading the story to you, he ran his small finger along with each word he spoke so you could follow along as well. His eyes connected with yours inquisitively, waiting for you to continue. 
“The nice tree gave him so much, and he never said ‘thank you’. And he left the tree alone for so long, the tree must have been so sad. He’s mean, a big meanie and… and…”
“Ungrateful.” Alhaitham finished your sentence. 
“Un-un..grateful?” You titled your head again, the unfamiliar word felt weird on your tongue. 
“Ungrateful. U-n-g-r-a-t-e-f-u-l. It means having no feelings of thanks, you can also say he’s selfish.” The boy answered your question before you could even ask it. 
You pressed a finger against your lips, turning the newly learned vocabulary in your head. Yeah, those words fit the boy in the story very well. Ungrateful and selfish. You looked back at the boy sitting next to you, a smile stretched your chubby cheeks. The grandma was right, reading with him was fun. 
“You’re really smart.” You beamed at him. 
“That means nothing to me.” He huffed, turning his face away. 
You could spy with your little eyes the red tint on the tips of his ears that peeked out from his ash-colored hair. 
“Hehe, and you’re funny too.” For the first time in a while, you giggled.
What a bittersweet memory, like the fragrance of the different brews traveling throughout the small shop. Yet, the nostalgia brought a small curl to your lips. You turned away from the book, only to flinch at what your eyes saw next. 
The boy from your memories is now a man standing adjacently. You must’ve been too lost in thought to notice his towering stature. 
After that tense reunion in the hallway, thankfully Alhaitham didn’t decide to knock on your door. Not that you would’ve answered anyways. He probably had already predicted your actions, and thus saved himself the time. 
He was dressed in a suit and but the tie was loose around his neck, he must’ve just gotten off of work. The path back to the coffee bar was just slightly blocked by his wide frame, you had to get past him. 
Teal-orange eyes converged with your stare, ah it’s too late to try and sneak past now. Alhaitham acknowledges your presence with a slight nod of his head, expression blank and unreadable. Once again you didn’t say a single greeting.
As if a merciful archon had been watching this pathetic interaction, an opportunity for escape was granted in the form of the barista calling out your name. 
“Excuse me.” Was all you could muster, hastily striding past him, body pressed against the selves so as to not brush against him. 
Before you the bell at the front chimed again to signal your departure, you made sure to leave some extra mora, more than the necessary amount. Done in silent gratitude towards the unsung hero of a barista. 
Tumblr media
It was now the last Saturday of the month, meaning it was time for your return performance. In your bathroom mirror, you smoothed out any stray hairs, straightening out your black performance garb.
A sacred ritual to slow the beating of your jumping heart. It’s a bit silly to admit, but no matter how many times you’ve performed, your nerves always went haywire. A terrible habit that made its way to adulthood. 
The tavern you were performing at was quite a popular joint among the locals of Sumeru City. The nice wooden and homey interior gave many city dwellers their taste of nature in a progressing world. A grand piano was tucked away in a clear corner of the establishment, a ring of tables enclosed the area into a stage of sorts. 
Pushing through the intricately carved doors, you entered Lambad’s Tavern eyes surveying the audience for this Saturday night. There were some tables still empty, awaiting the future stream of guests. Chatter quietly reverberated through the serene scene for now.
The atmosphere can get a bit rowdy as more and more alcohol ran through the systems of patrons. In a way, it was perfect for you, a perfect stepping stone in your slow climb. 
Checking in with the manager at the front, you got the thumbs up to start setting up for your show. An agreement had been reached earlier this month that you would be playing the piano for three hours, three hours of having the privilege to play on a grand piano again. Not on the electronic imitation of your keyboard. Eager hands glided their soft touch along the smooth keys. 
Yes, nothing can truly capture the beauty of the grand piano’s voice, not even the CDs you set up on a table nearby. Recordings with a mixed tracklist of classical pieces and original compositions, just like your setlist for tonight. 
Lifting up the fallboard, you set the sheets against the music stand. Not that you needed them. Every note, every rest, and every change in tempo memorized in your fingers. Taking a deep breath, your eyes did one final scan around the room. Most tables were too emersed in their own conversations to take note of you. 
Rubbing your fingers together to grind out the tremble of your nerves before you shut your eyes. In the darkness quiet darkness of your mind, your fingers moved into their positions over the keys. Erik Satie’s Je te veux resonated with the muddled conversations of the audience, adding to the serene air. 
You’ve always closed your eyes when performing, a trait that has embedded itself from the start of your music career. The darkness of your mind offered a reprieve from the critical eyes of judges and parents during recitals and competitions.
You first stepped into this safe haven around the time of your first recital at the age of eight. 
It’s been a few months since you first began your piano lessons, and your teacher was eager to announce your first recital. They had a sparkle in their eyes, keen to show off their most talented disciple. 
They had discovered an unpolished diamond among the mediocre ruff, a young naturally blessed child. Your lips were kept sealed about the long hours your parents forced you to sit in front of the piano after each weekly lesson. 
Before you only ever played under the watchful gaze of either your parents or teacher, not an audience of strangers. To say you were nervous would be an understatement, you were terrified. 
“I can’t do it.” You retracted your hands from the piano once again, as if the keys were scorching you. 
“You said you wanted to play the piano for me.” The young boy beside you huffed out, annoyed at your actions. You had repeated these steps five times now. 
“I know! But I’m… scared…” Your posture deflated. 
“If you can’t play in front of one person, how can you play for a crowd?” Alhaitham’s disinterested eyes crept back to the book he had placed beside him, you had dragged him away from his reading for this. 
“I don’t know…” A frown pulled at your face, eyes feeling the incoming burn. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. 
There was a tense moment of nothingness between the two of you. The boy quietly observed the paper propped up against the music stand. 
“Do you know how to play this piece?” His flat voice broke the suspense. 
“Yes I do! I’ve been practicing this every day, I can even do it with my eyes closed.” You huffed in disbelief at his accusation. 
“Then do that. Just play with your eyes closed.” He retorted as if it was the most obvious statement in the world. 
Which in truth, it was the most obvious statement in the world. You’ve been practicing Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen since the beginning of the month every day for six hours a day. The rhythm and keys were ingrained into your fingers by the second week. 
The solution was so plain and simple, why didn’t you think of it? Your parents were right, you are always a few steps behind the brilliant boy. 
An embarrassed flush covered your round cheeks. Suddenly his stare was heavy, heavier than the ones from your parents and teacher. The muscles in your finger felt tense. Your young mind could tell that if this continued then the tune embedded in your hands wouldn’t come out at all. 
“Can you not look?” A quiet plead. 
“I thought you wanted me to watch.” A grey brow was raised. 
“I know… But…” Around him, you couldn’t seem to finish your sentences. 
“Fine.” Deciding that prying further would be a wasted effort, Alhaitham turned his short body around on the bench so that his back faced the piano instead. Cracking open his thick book back to the page he had left off on. 
“I don’t need to look at you to hear you play anyways.” The young boy’s eyes returned back to their place among the text. 
Sitting back up straight again, shoulder back and hands into position. You took a deep breath and entered the darkness behind your eyelids. This time your fingers guided you through the moment, and the piano sang out its melodies. 
Coincidentally, Vom fremden Ländern und Menschen from Kinderszenen just so happened to be ending right now as the memory finished its course. You had transitioned into the piece some time ago, finishing five out of the many on your three-hour setlist. It was right about time for a small break. 
As your eyelids lifted a few soft claps reached your ears, from the growing chatter it seems that more customers had funneled into the tavern. 
The manager of the tavern was a very generous man, so much so that he offers you a complimentary drink you could claim during each of your breaks. You would be a fool to turn down such an offer, but you reminded yourself that you need to maintain a certain level of sobriety. For the sake of your performance. 
The sweet wine felt divine running down your parched throat. The alcohol did wonders in mellowing out your racing thoughts as you returned back to your place at the piano. Just like before, you did a small survey of your surroundings. Big mistake, for your mind kicked into overdrive when locking gazes with teal eyes.  
‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’. 
A superstition you should really be more mindful of. Shifting your body towards the piano, you ended the impromptu staring contest. Ah, what song were you supposed to play now? Thoughts scrambled as you can still feel the heaviness of Alhaitham’s gaze on your back. ‘Just play’ you internally scolded.
Letting your fingers take over the piano, retreating back into the comforting blackness. 
Tumblr media
“Who was that?” Kaveh creaked open the door to his new apartment, inquiring his now former roommate about the scene that unraveled moments before. 
Alhaitham observed the heavy metal frame that closed you off from him once more. This was certainly an unexpected surprise. It’s been seven years since he last hear your voice. Seven years since you marched forth on a path carved by your own grit and resoluteness. 
Many things have changed these seven years.
Who are you?
Eyes still following the cracks of the paint running up your door, the ashen-haired man’s mind recounted a scene from long ago. 
It’s been a few months since you first moved into this neighborhood, taking Alhaitham’s title of ‘only kid on the block’ away. During your first introduction, you wouldn’t even greet him constantly tugging on your father’s pant leg and staring at your feet. 
Now you wouldn’t stop greeting him. After lunch, almost like clockwork, there would be a knock at his front door. Disrupting his precious reading time. You’d be there on the other side with a new book for him to read to you, or you’d bounce on the heels of your feet inviting him to hear your piano. 
Today, it was the latter. Alhaitham had his back facing the piano, the position that made you the most comfortable. A book was open in his lap, but his mind was busy pondering a mystery to pay attention to it or to the tune you were playing. Grandma said it wasn’t good to hold in questions, lest they consume the curious mind. Best to get answers from the source of the mystery. 
“Why do you seek me out?” His flat voice interfered with the sharp notes.
“Huh?” You turned to him perplexed, fingers now hovering over the keys.
“Are we friends?” He asked directly, it’s good to be straightforward. 
“Of course we’re friends! Even if you’re a bookworm, you’re still a precious friend of mine.” Chest puffed up at your bold declaration. 
“If I am a bookworm, it’s only appropriate to call you an earworm.”
“E-earworm? There are worms that live in the ear??” 
“No, it’s just a figure of speech. Earworm refers to a tone or melody that repeats constantly in the mind.” 
“Ooh. Earworm…” You pondered the term for a bit before another splitting smile spread across your face. 
“Yes! You’re a bookworm and I’m an earworm.” A finger was directed at him then back at yourself, giggling. 
Strangely, the young boy felt a tickle at the back of his throat, as if your laughter was contagious like a cold. He decided to hold it back in favor of observing your expression for a bit longer. 
“Oh!” You jumped up from the bench, reaching into the shiny pencil case you kept close to the piano. 
Pulling out a bold black marker you uncapped the tool before climbing onto the bench, the extra height allowing you to maneuver the top half of your body into the body of the piano. 
Now it was his turn to be bewildered, quickly snapping his eyes towards the entrance of the living room, watching out for signs of your parents. Soon you reemerged from the instrument, capping the marker with a proud look in your eyes. 
“There, now there’s solid proof of our friendship.”  
Alhaitham peers into the piano, observing the words clumsily written along the wooden shell:
Property of Bookworm and Earworm
“Why am I before you? It’s your piano isn’t it?” 
“Well ‘B’ comes before ‘E’.” You puffed out your cheek at his lackluster response to your heartfelt gesture. 
For the first time ever in front of you, Alhaitham let an obvious smile appear on his face. 
What a bittersweet term. Friends. Yes, the two of you were once friends long ago. Close friends who morphed into strangers. The catalyst for this change? With each new stage of life, branching paths will appear, the parting of ways is just a natural phenomenon. 
He is Alhaitham and you are you. Separate individuals with separate lives on separate paths. 
“Just someone I used to know.” Came his candid answer. 
“Right.” Kaveh rolled his eyes, clearly displeased at how the ashen-haired man won’t give his question an actual response. 
Alhaitham removed his eyes from your door, picking the cardboard box back off the tiled hallway. Kaveh didn’t need to know the specifics, the precious details shall forever make their home in a safe corner of his mind. 
Tumblr media
Alhaitham exited the ornate doors of the office building. Currently, it was the closing quarter, meaning the office has been more bothersome than usual. Even with his perfected front of acting busy, more and more troublesome characters have been strolling into his office. It’s irrelevant now, for the secretary is now off the clock. 
The sun was still in the sky, perfect weather to grab a bit to eat from a local coffee shop. It’s been a week since he last picked up a new book as well, there was one place that came to mind that would allow the man to kill two birds with one stone. Long legs walked with swift strides towards his destination. 
Even will his earphones in, Alhaitham could still hear the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets. In Sumeru City this was expected, construction, traffic, and pedestrians, everything thing muddled together in noisy inference with his thoughts. He turns up the volume. 
Opening the door to the cafe, the bell sounded his arrival. The usual barista was there at the counter. With a quick glance up the barista instinctively placed his order, a testament to just how often the ashen-haired man frequents this place. Good, this saves him the trouble. 
Without pausing his music, Alhaitham began pursuing the nonfiction section of the small shop. There were a few new scientific journals that have been published, maybe he’ll give them a read. 
Although his ears were currently occupied, that doesn’t mean his other senses were dulled. He could feel the weight of someone’s gaze upon his back. Usually, the man would simply brush such occurrences off. But there was this small nag coming from a corner of his mind. This could be a result of a brain being bored by a day’s worth of paperwork. He’ll indulge his curiosity. 
Returning the weight of the gaze back to the mysterious source he felt his jaw clench just a bit. There you were again, staring at him with your lips pressed together tensely. Your wide eyes were very reminiscent of a spooked songbird. Everything about your body language read startled and for flight. 
This time, Alhaitham doesn’t encroach, he simply nodded his head in a small greeting. It seems even this small action sparked you to flee. You mouthed something before quickly strolling past him. 
Shamelessly, his teal eyes followed your path as you paid for your coffee and disappeared out of sight from the shop windows. Yes, his statement that these seven years have brought about much change was correct. It wasn’t like this before.
“Alhaitham, why are you reading here?” His grandma inquired about the reason behind her grandson situating himself at the window nook instead of inside the library. 
“I just wanted to enjoy the sunlight.” Came his crafted response. 
From this small nook, the window gave a clear view of the front steps and the path that led to the house just across the street. The older woman took note of this, kind eyes giving the young boy a knowing look and smile. You had begun attending the local school.
Meanwhile, Alhaitham adamantly wanted to stay home and self-study instead. Stating that all the material the school covered he already knew. The old lady didn’t raise any objections to her grandson’s decision. 
“If you go over to her house remember to be polite, and inform me before you do.” A wrinkled hand tussled through his soft ashen locks. 
“There’s no need. I’m just sitting here to read.” He leaned into his grandma’s touch. 
“Of course, of course. Then I shall make use of this afternoon to review some material. Remember what I said.” 
“Yes, grandma.” Came his reply. 
With that, Alhaitham was left to his own thoughts by the window. He didn’t really know why he felt the pull to sit by the window. Was it to get a glimpse of you? The neighbor’s daughter? 
You and he were the only two kids on the block, so it wasn’t surprising you would often seek out his company. A friendship formed by virtue of close proximity. However, now you were attending classes filled with other kids your age. His company would sooner or later fade into obscurity. 
Alhaitham has always been very attuned to the situation around him, displaying a level of maturity and insight way beyond his years. Perhaps he still retains some semblance of that childish essence. Demonstrated by his current position, the book in his lap only held half of his attention, the other wondering out the clear glass. 
What is he hoping for realistically? Others can provide you much livelier company than he ever could, and yet he still-
The boy puts down the book, short legs pattering across the wooden floor swiftly carrying his body to the door. Small hands turned the cold brass before he channeled all his strength into prying the wooden mass from the frame.
Revealing your bewildered face, hand frozen in its position ready to knock on the now open door. Once your eyes met, it wasn’t long before a smile replaced your expression. 
“Hi, Haitham! Wanna hear me play today?” 
Yes, that was how things used to be. Even as your social circle grew, even as new families moved in, you’d still appear back in front of him. Beaming that smile he lost the privilege to see. Like a songbird that returned every day to sing in front of his window as the solitary child read.
 Alhaitham’s eyes found themselves locked once more on a door, the one you had rushed out of not so long ago. There was a weight pulling down on the corners of his mouth. He entered Sumeru’s education system during high school. Missing the crucial formative years previously where cliques and social labels were formed, he stood alone as a loner. 
But You always rushed towards him through crowded halls and rooms. Breaking away amidst your social circle from orchestra and band. Just to tap him on the shoulder and eat lunch together in the sanctuary of a private practice room that housed the school’s piano.
These repetitive memories plaguing him brought a bitter taste to his coffee. Perhaps it was the dreadful combination of sweet memory and awareness of the current state of affairs. 
Tumblr media
Finally, the end of the month has come. Meaning things at work have sorted themselves out, at least for another three months. In lieu of attending an actual company-sponsored dinner, Alhaitham decides to get a drink at the local tavern.
Company dinners were noisy, filled with black ties and white lies. Too troublesome. However, recently his mind has been filling the silence of his house with redundant thoughts. 
A drink from time to time is a good way to destress and quell the mind, Alhaitham reasons as he enters the establishment. Lambad’s Tavern was a local joint that provides a small solace from the rambunctious city streets. A place the man likes to visit on occasion, usually when an invitation was extended. 
From the moment he entered through the doors, he could hear a piano ending its cords. It seems that there was live music tonight. Usually, it was nice to have background music accompany the chatter of the other patrons. But why a piano of all choices tonight? Alhaitham takes a deep breath before letting out a small sigh, it’s as if a ghost of the past is haunting him. 
Placing an order for a bottle of wine to be delivered to a secluded area, Alhaitham makes his way to the usual table. His body maneuvered through the sea of flushed face patrons, and the sight of the grand piano came into view.
The bench by the instrument was empty, perhaps his mind really is just conjuring up a ghost. Regardless, once the wine comes these thoughts will settle. 
“Your wine.” The alcohol was set down. 
“Thank you.” Alhaitham swirls the glass a bit before taking a sip. 
 His bored eyes began to wander once more, looking for anything to bide the time with, unsurprisingly they were beckoned towards the piano. Only this, time it was no longer empty. No, this time it was no ghost invented by a bored mind, it was you. He stiffly swallowed down the wine. 
He wasn’t subtle nor careful with how obviously he was staring, thinking too occupied by astonishment. This must have tipped you off, as once again your wide-eyed gaze connected with his heavy one. You made that tense face again. You broke away, tightly shutting your eyes before your fingers hit the keys, making the piano sing. 
‘Oh, so you still closed your eyes when you played’. Alhaitham found a strange satisfaction in this fact as if he found comfort in the one constant he still knew about you. Arms and fingers moved fluidly, a sight he used to not be able to see out of respect for you. 
Your parents were busy with their research, and his grandmother had her hands full with academic responsibilities. It was only Alhaitham who had the time, a resource only abundant in youth, to attend your recitals and concerts.
As the crowd and the judges bored holes into your figure up on stage, the young man kept his eyes peeled on the book in front of him. 
The young man didn’t mind attending these events, the audience was mostly silent save for the occasional applause. After so many years and lunches spent by your side at the piano, his ears have gotten used to the melodic accompaniment to his reading.
The final chords of your performance reverberated throughout the air, followed by the rolling clapping of hands.
He lifted his attention up to the stage. Although it’s ironic how the only time you wanted him to watch your performance was at the end, he’ll respect your wishes. From the brightly lit stage, you were finishing your bow, and as your head rises your eyes connected with his. A beaming smile was directed at him.
Was it you or the stage lights that stung his eyes? 
“How’d you think I did, Haitham?” Was the first thing out of your lips after rejoining him. 
The concert hall had emptied out some time ago, and Alhaitham had been waiting by the backstage door to walk home with you. You held a thick folder against the front of your formal black gown, a bounce in your ballet flat steps. Alhaitham pretended to contemplate his answer. 
“I’m not well versed in acoustics nor how to judge music, so I don’t see how my opinion would matter.”  Came his flat reply.  
“Haitham, you listened to me play for years. How have you not learned a thing?” You pouted, just like how he predicted. 
The young man gave you a simple shrug. Of course, he found your performance exceptional, he was there for the hours of practice you put in. 
“Whatever, now that it’s over. I can start looking at the piece the conductor wanted me to accompany for the school’s orchestra. Ahh, I only have three weeks to practice.” You made a face as you dug through the thick folder as the two of you continued to walk. 
He only hummed in response, shifting his focus back to his book. It was the sweet Sumeru Spring of your third year of high school, the perfect for a serene walk home.
Over the top of the pages, his teal eyes could see your lips press into a crooked line, desperately trying to suppress your snickers as you sightread the notes on the sheet. 
“Is that a piece by Debussy?” 
“Huh? How’d ya know, Haitham?” 
You were easy to read. After knowing you for over a decade now, you were like an open book to him. The journal hides his small smile from your sight. 
The memory reminded him to advert his eyes, focusing back on the glass of wine in front of him. He came here for a drink, he should follow through with his plan. The wine quickly vanished as Alhaitham signed for another. It took an impressive amount of willpower for his eyes to not wander back, he won’t let them. 
Your small performance had come to an end, sounded by the closing of the fallboard and how the bench dragged against the floor. He knew you were bowing to show thanks to the audience, yet he still refused to look. From your earlier actions, it was blatant that you despised his presence.
So even as your figure passed by his table, Alhaitham refused to allow you into his line of sight.
It’s been an hour since you left the establishment in a rush, and Alhaitham had run up quite the tab now, best to call it a night. Tossing some mora onto the table, the ashen-haired man stands up ready to begin the taxis ride back. 
The effects of the alcohol must have made his eyes wander back to the piano, a fruitless attempt to watch one last glimpse. And a glimpse they found, in the form of a CD you had carelessly left behind. 
You had abandoned it, thus it was now free for the taking.
It was unlike the stoic man to order rounds after rounds of wine, but he needed something to busy himself with. Just as how you were busy with the piano, he needed the alcohol to quell undesirable impulses. However, as his unsteady steps made it up the front porch, he was chastising himself for that decision. A hangover was guaranteed in the morning.
Roughly slamming the door shut behind him, Alhaitham entered the asylum of his home. The newfound stillness of the house was usually a luxury the ashen-haired man indulged in. However, at the moment it was a tribulation, for his noisy thoughts filled the silence. Its volume only exacerbated by the alcohol in his system. 
When he was younger, Alhaitham naively thought the knowledge gained from academic journals was equivalent to experience. After all, he had just read about another person’s experiences, he could pinpoint their flaws and learn from their mistakes so as to not repeat them. 
Just like the knowledge obtained from his books, he assumed that you too shall always remain in his possession, you shall always stay by his side. Of course, only a naive teenager, no, only a naive child would think this way. 
Did you know that the downfall of many great kings, heroes, and gods was their hubris? Excess self-confidence blinds their vision. Excess confidence only a naive child would have, believing he could analyze everything. 
Oh, how life works in mysterious ways, finding lessons to humble such egos. Alhaitham, against his will, reminisces about the event that taught him a valuable lesson in the noisy silence of his house. 
“Haitham, I can’t believe they did it.” You were curled up on the couch of his grandmother’s home, tears streaming down your face. 
“They sold my piano, Haitham. They sold it because they wanted me to get over this ‘hobby’. Hypocrites, as if they weren’t the ones who forced me to practice hours a day since I was a kid.” 
Alhaitham said nothing, silently holding the tissue box out to you. The pair of you had just returned from school just a few hours earlier, bidding goodbye before returning to your respective houses. However, just an hour ago his quiet reading was disrupted by frantic pounding on the front door. He had opened it to your tear-stained face. 
“How could they instill in me a passion for all my life, but when I want to continue with it as a career, they do their damnedest to snuff it out?” You were furiously wiping your eyes with the back of your hands. 
Oh, so that’s what happened. Alhaitham had already seen this coming, knowing how your parents were, it was predictable. They had valid reasons for not wanting their daughter to pursue such a career path.
You still had stage fright, constantly telling him to not look at you when you played. How would you make a living like this? He analyzed the statistics and figures before he comes to his own conclusion. 
There was no reason that you couldn’t balance a stable career with your passion for piano. In Sumeru, they had one of the most progressive work cultures of all of Teyvat. There were generous amounts of paid time off, sick days, and reasonable hours. You had more than enough time for music.
He decides to share his conclusion with you. 
“Music should stay a hobby. Even graduates from the most prestigious music universities aren’t guaranteed a career. To be frank, it’s better if you pursue a degree that leads to a steadfast position. Of course, be firm in your boundaries so that you can have the time for piano.” 
The room fell silent, your wide eyes stared into his calm teal ones. A heavy hush hung in the air as the grandfather clock continued to tick away, until it rang, signaling the change in the air. After the last resonance of its chime faded, you let out a laugh, but there was no joy in your voice. 
“Of course… Why did I think you’d be different? This is why they love you.” Your tone was dry as your shoulders shook, eyes now trained on the floor. 
“Look at Alhaitham, what a level-headed guy he is, you should learn from him. Look at his grades, why can’t you be top of the class? He’s so talented and good at everything, what can you do? Why can’t you be more like Alhaitham?” You spat out his name as if it was poisonous. 
“Comparison is the thief of joy, you shouldn’t-” Alhaitham needed to de-escalate this crescendo.
“If only you were born their son… Then I wouldn’t have suffered.” More tears fell from your eyes as you stumbled off the couch. 
“I hate you, Alhaitham. I hate you for ruining my life.” 
Alhaitham once believed that words, which have no physical form, couldn’t hurt him. The stab in his chest from an unseen force dismissed that notion.
Your burning eyes reconnected with his gaze. He knew that look, he’s seen it many times. Jealousy, anger, and hatred. They were familiar emotions that others cast his way, yet he found himself taken aback. You’ve never looked at him like this before… Have you? 
Before he could utter another word, you stormed off. All the young man could do was watch the back of your figure as it disappeared from sight. 
There was a firm frown now on Alhaitham’s lips and a furrow between his brows. He wanted this horrible play to end, for his brain to stop showing him events that have already passed. It’s always one’s own mind that can show the most cruelty to itself. 
It’s been a month since you’ve last spoken to him. Taking long about ways to school so as to avoid crossing paths with him, your lunches were spent locked in private practice rooms.
Young Alhaitham had a whole month to analyze and reanalyze at which moment everything fell apart. After much deliberation, he concluded that he made a miscalculation. He overstepped his boundaries. 
In the end, it was your life, you should be the one to decide how you will live it. His unsolicited suggestion was wholly unnecessary. He knew an apology was needed.
However, he could read from your actions that you weren’t ready to talk to him just yet. It wouldn’t be wise to approach you, lest you look at him again with those eyes. That’s fine, he can wait until you came to him. Alhaitham bided his time with more books. Was reading without music always this lonely? 
It was the day of your graduation. From within the sea of celebratory gowns and cheering students, teal eyes honed in on your figure. You were intentionally avoiding his gaze, instead going to congratulate and talk to fellow musicians and classmates. His hand balled up into a fist before he unclenched it. It’s fine, you need more time, and he’ll respect that.
It’s the least he could do. Either way, the two of you had the whole Summer to make up before university started. 
Another miscalculation on his part. 
Alhaitham recalls the panicked ringing of his doorbell, but instead of you, the door opened to reveal your parents. You were gone. Your phone was left behind, important documents missing from filing cabinets, and a bag full of belongings gone. You’ve vanished, the only explanation they got was a note: 
“Don’t Bother Me”. 
You’ve already become a legal adult, how could the Matra have any justification to drag you back? 
That whole hellish Sumeru Summer Alhaitham read at the nook located by the front door. For that whole Summer, the young man answered any number that flashed on his screen. He knew that you had limited money, after your pitiful savings dried up you were bound to return. If not to your house, then at least to this haven.
Your voice was never on the other side. 
Laughably, it took the prodigy Alhaitham an entire Summer to finally come to terms with the facts of the matter. The songbird had left its tarnished cage, and it will never return. He started university without you by his side.
Grey lashes fluttered open as the play finally ends. Memories that once looped like a broken record in his mind. With time this memory became a softer hum to his thoughts. An earworm that burrowed deep within so as to remind him of his past shortcomings. 
Yes, his past mistakes made him aware of his limited human vision. That he did in fact not know everything. The series of errors that strayed you away from him. Humans weren’t books, they’re not as easy to decipher as scripts on a page. The growing pains of maturing. A lesson he has learned well.  
Once was an accident, twice is a coincidence, and the third time… a chance. Alhaitham doesn’t believe in gods or fate, but he does believe in opportunity.
Teal eyes made their way to the CD left on top of a polished ivory top. This time, he shall turn around and chase after the ghost, to return to her what was rightfully hers. 
Tumblr media
If these occurrences were bound to happen more often, then it’s best for you to catch up with the seven-year backlog of information. Of course, instead of consulting the primary source for the much-needed answers, you turned to a secondary source instead. You are nothing, if not a coward.
Hence why on this warm Thursday night you were out at the local bar, wallet getting emptied by the blond slumped next to you. 
“Ugh, that man was a tyrant. Leaving books everywhere, letting dust just pile up, and every other sentence had to be a snide remark.” Kaveh finishes another glass, another cry from your wallet. 
You were still nursing your second glass while Kaveh’s got a scarlet glow already. A part of you regrets inviting your hall neighbor out, but you appreciated the wealth of information he spilled out once a drop of liquor hit his tongue. 
Currently, Alhaitham is employed at the top company in Sumeru city. he’s the secretary but quickly raising up the ranks. He also owns his own house in a rich suburb, one he used to share with the drunk man beside you, but now it only houses himself. 
“Not only that but every week like clockwork that apathetic bastard would bring home the ugliest furniture. He once brought home an old piano. It took up so much space and clashed against the dark wood of the house! He wouldn’t even try to arrange them, he messed up the feng shui! He can’t even play! What was it for then?!” 
Ah, you can see why the architect was willing to move into the lackluster apartment, he was desperate the spare his blood pressure. You don’t blame him, in fact hearing about your former friend’s spending habits brought a sour aftertaste to your wine.
Oh, how nice it must be to have such financial freedom. 
“Then whenever I make a polite suggestion that he try to consider aesthetics, his response? ‘It is my life, my house, and my money. Suggestions from others are irrelevant and should be ignored. I’m guessing such philosophies are difficult to uphold for designers who must bend to their client’s will.’ Can you believe how insufferable he is?”  
“Hypocrite.” That word rolled bitterly off your tongue, a past dialogue resurfacing from the back of your mind. 
The blond’s hazy eyes peered at your inquisitively. Then his drunken mind sparks a thought: Why were you asking about Alhaitham? He also remembers that he had unanswered questions as well. 
“By the way, what is your relation to that detached man?”
“Just a nobody who got compared to his brilliance.” 
That doesn’t satisfy his question at all. 
“Not this game again. Seriously, just what went down between the two of-”
“For a person who prides himself on his empathy, you sure are oblivious to the discomfort you’re causing. Prying for details that don’t concern you.” A deep voice from behind made your skin prickle. 
Why was he here?
You didn’t need to look to feel the heavy weight of his teal eyes, boring holes into your stiff frame. The wine tasted awful now. It’s rude to ditch the guest that you had invited out, but you needed to get out of here before bile begins to taint your palette. 
Quickly signaling for the tab, you didn’t even comprehend the number before you slammed down a bunch of mora. 
“I’ll leave first. It was nice drinking with you, Kaveh. Let’s do this again sometime.” An excuse and lie. 
“Hey, wait-” The blond lifted up his hand. 
“I’ll walk you home. It’s quite dangerous this time of night around here.” Alhaitham’s body turned to follow you. Ah, he’s pointing out how shit your neighborhood was, isn’t he. 
“Oi! Stop interrupting your senior-”
Alhaitham tosses an extra handful of mora onto the table. Kaveh was nearly shaking with rage, but he couldn’t resist the temptation of another few glasses of wine.
You were taking exaggerated strides across the uneven concrete, trying to put some distance between you. However, your legs were no match for the towering man’s steps, as it wasn’t before long until he caught up. 
The clicking of your shoes and the thumps of his steps filled the tense silence. You refused to meet his gaze. But the thoughts racing through your mind needed answers, in particular, why is he haunting you now of all times? 
“Why are you here?” You punched in the code for the entrance of the complex. 
“I was looking for you. It just so happens that I spotted you through the window of the bar.” 
There was an annoyed twitch at your eyebrow. He is not aware of how creepy he sounded right now?
You swiftly pulled the heavy door open and tried to slam it behind you, to create a barrier. However, Alhaitham’s foot was just a bit faster. His tall figure continued to loom behind you as you ascended the stairs. 
“I have a reason to seek you.” 
“Oh? Then pray tell, why a young professional would follow a woman to her home.” Keys fumbling to fit into the loose door handle. 
“I took a CD. I’m no thief, and I believe that a musician should be fairly compensated for her work.” Came his flat reply. 
That’s it? You already had a terrible week at work, becoming the scapegoat for the incompetency of managers. Now, his presence was only exacerbating the negativity flowing through you. Maybe the heat of the fire hasn’t been completely forgotten. You don’t want his money, you don’t want his pity. 
For the first time, you whipped around intentionally staring straight into his teal-orange irises. You don’t need his money nor pity. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, maybe it was the mounting stress on your shoulders or a damning combination of both.
You wanted to wipe that indifferent look off his handsome face, you couldn’t stand it. 
Alhaitham’s lips parted ready to continue the transaction, only to be interrupted by the crashing of another on his. Your fingers were tangled in the collar of his shirt, wrinkling the crisp fabric. Your burning stare never left his slightly raised eyes, wanting to observe anything hint of human emotion. 
Shock? Disgust? Fury? You’d take anything over his infuriatingly stoic face. 
Instead of shoving you off like you inferred, Alhaitham slowly lowers his eyelids. Parting his lips even more as if to grant more access, allowing his tongue to dance with yours. These actions only irked you more. 
This wasn’t your first kiss with him, the first time happened while two friends were sitting by a piano, heads turning to face each other too fast. An accidental brushing of lips. It irked you that the mushy feeling from that day was currently making its grand return. 
Breaking away to allow oxygen back into your burning lungs, a thin strand of saliva trailing between. You were panting as his eyes reconnected with yours, something else was swimming behind those impartial irises. Too bad you were too impatient to decipher it, as you pulled his face back down.
Back pushing the rusty apartment door ajar. Two bodies disappeared behind the awful singing of its hinges. 
For once, you woke up before the screeching of your phone. The sun was just barely peeking through the blinds. A muscular arm was draped over your bare torso, sheets still a bit damp from sweat. You knew that smell currently suffocating you in the room. You just slept with your former friend. 
Your hand itched to slap your face. Idiot, you avoided him for all this time just to welcome him into your bed. 
Stealthily shimming your body out of bed, you could feel the slight wobble of your legs. Of course, he’s good at sex, he’s good at everything. You cast a quick glance at his slumbering form. Teal eyes were still hidden behind closed lids. Good, he’s not awake.
Like a thief in your own home, you toed around the clothes scattered across the floor, careful to avoid the creaky wooden planks you’ve memorized. 
Swiftly grabbing a random assortment of items out of your closet, you deemed the outfit professional enough for work. Trying to glide across the cluttered apartment like a ghost, you put on your heels, ready for the walk of shame away from your apartment. At least your gym membership will see some use now, a shower would be great to wash the shame and guilt off. 
It’s not like you had anything worth stealing. Grabbing your bag off the table, you exited the scene of the crime. Hinges announcing your departure.
Tumblr media
If the you from a few months ago saw what the reunion of friends had morphed into, she’d probably keel over in shock. Can you even call yourselves friends anymore?
The next Saturday following that incident, you had finished up another gig at Lambad’s Tavern. An all too familiar face made his way up to the piano. Browsing through the selection of CDs you still had on display. 
“I’ll take this one.” Alhaitham held the smooth plastic in one hand, as his other reached for his wallet. 
You gestured for him to stop. Crossing your arms in front of your body as if soothing your nerves. Pride still too great to accept his money, a resource he seems to have in excess. Just earlier in the day, after reaching the second round in the audition, the proctor thanked you for your time and lead you to the exit. Another failed attempt to join an orchestra.
You knew that returning to your cramped abode will only lead you to wallow in misery with a cheap bottle of liquor. 
“You can come over. I’ll take it as compensation.” 
How would you define this relationship? Friends with benefits? But the two of you were ex-friends, so that wouldn’t really make sense. Regardless, you knew what you wanted. To forget the sting of failure through pleasure. You turned your head to face him, awaiting his reply. An attentive stare was the silent confirmation you needed. 
Does he think you’re easy or desperate? You didn’t particularly care for his opinion anymore. Alhaitham was currently kneeling by the side of your mused bed, he was here to ‘compensate’ you, and compensate he will. Your thighs were firmly held in his large hands, spreading them apart granting him access to the honeypot he seeks. 
His hot tongue lapped at your slick folds, parting the labia and collecting your slick. Making sure to end the journey with a small flick to the little nub on top, before the wet muscle traveled back down. The noise was sinfully melodic. Your legs were straining against his hold, instinctively wanting to close in on his face, but his strength far surpasses yours. So instead, you pressed your lips into the back of your hand. Denying him the privilege to hear your moans.
This must’ve displeased him greatly, as the next thing you knew he broke from his steady tempo, and his soft lips enclosed around your sensitive clit. Alhaitham’s tongue was now accompanied by the suction of his mouth, torturing your poor little bundle. Slurping and sloppy wet flicks bounced off the thin walls. Hot flashes shot up your legs as your toes curled, a moan was fighting its way past your teeth. 
He changed his pace once more. Now intertwining deep laps of your leaking hole with the overwhelming attention on your now swollen clit. Your honey was dripping down his chin as he continued his efforts. Your legs were trembling now, unable to give any resistance against his domineering hold. Thus, allowing him to slip one hand between, two long fingers stretching out your gummy walls. Prodding their way through the tight warm hole, mapping out their way to that special spongey patch. 
Your teeth wouldn’t hold back the moan any longer. Back arching off the messy sheets, the internal and external pleasure created a maddening duo, pushing your sanity off the edge. Your vision when white was your body shook, nonsense babbling out of your lips. Alhaitham gave your pulsing clit a few more slick licks before pressing a sweet kiss against it. 
His towering frame got up from the floor to loom over your recovering body. Teal eyes observing every twitch and shiver of your sloppy face. Soon his face descended closer, this time you were the quick one. Snapping your head to the side. Denying him a kiss, lest those mushy emotions bubble up during this moment. Alhaitham stills, he says nothing, just letting his warm breath fan across your face. 
He got the message. Pulling away to give space between your lips, he searches his back pocket for a condom. Even with your bodies connected. There was still a line deeply etched into the sand, separating the two of you.  
Once again you woke up before him. Once again you slipped out of his embrace. Ocne more his arms gave no protest. Another journey to the gym. 
One time turned into two times, two times turned into… you lost count at this point. However, it would simply be a waste of time to think too deeply about it. It’s Alhaitham after all, that man would never bother with activities that waste his time. If it doesn’t serve to benefit in any way, he’d be the first to drop it, what an objective guy he is. 
The two of you were still young professionals with a lot of steam to let off. A familiar face of convenience to destress and feel the wisp of comfort from another warm body in this cold world. This is what’s become of the pile of ashes from a once beautiful bridge.
Tumblr media
The back of your head hit against the brick wall supporting your body. Another rejection, this time you made it all the way to the semi-finals. Alas, from behind a curtain, the panel of judges deemed you unworthy of playing in their esteemed orchestra. Your aching fingers dug into your palms, hoping that the pain would distract from the burning sting welling up in your eyes.
The pursuit of knowledge and the pursuit of dreams were more similar to each other than what great scholars of the nation of wisdom cared to admit.
They were the shining light that broke through the murky uncertainly of life, beckoning stray souls towards them. Those lost in the labyrinth of reality desperately seek to walk the path illuminated by their glow. 
In the end, knowledge and dreams were like the sun’s warm rays shining through the leaves of a tree. No matter how many times your hands reach for and grab, you can never hold them.  
The multiple part-time jobs you juggled between your college courses taught you the most valuable lesson no lecture ever could: Dreams cost money, and so did rent, and so did food, and so did utilities. 
Scornfully, you had to tack on extra courses to your piano major, a witless minor in business administration. It stings your pride to this day to attribute your current steady stream of income to that last-minute academic decision. 
It stung because, in the end, Alhaitham’s prediction was correct. Regardless of if one was a natural or artificial prodigy like you. Even the brightest and most dedicated musicians aren’t guaranteed a career, degree or not. Perhaps, this truth that you’ve come to terms with was the water that smothered the flame of anger. Leaving behind the defeated wisps of regret and embarrassment. 
Of course Alhaitham was right, he always is. 
There was a chime from the store door opening up beside you. A certain ashen-haired man walked out with a bouquet of Sumeru roses in hand. ‘Speak of the devil, and he doth appear’.
You quickly adverted your gaze, but it was useless as he had already taken note of your presence. You didn’t want to cry in front of him. Deciding to take control of the conversation before anything starts. 
“I don’t have a show tonight.” Referring to the bouquet in his hands. 
“I’m aware. I was going to visit my grandmother today.” His deep voice drummed. 
Oh. You wanted the archons to strike you down at this very moment. Stupid, why did you assume such things? There’s nothing but a tightrope formed by virtue of convenience connecting your paths. Just what were you hoping for? Your cheeks were now burning with shame. 
“Would you like to come with me?” His calm tone beckons you out of your thoughts. 
At this rate, how could you refuse? Perhaps it was due to the surmounting weight of guilt and embarrassment. But a part of you also knows it’s because you missed her. So you followed Alhaitham to his car, buckling yourself in and opening your arms, offering to carry the flowers. The car ride was silent the whole time. 
Alhaitham’s grandmother always looked at you with those tender warm eyes of hers. Extending out a warm hand to comb through your locks in exchange for every song you’d play for her. She was the only voice that offered your impoverished heart any words of encouragement.
Words that brought an inkling of warmth from the icy stares of your parents. 
The final note echoed throughout the common area of the hospital. Applause could be heard from the few patients attending your impromptu concert. However, your attention was focused all on the soft smile of the frail woman in the wheelchair beside you. Her thin, wrinkled hands clapped together. 
Jokingly you gave a dramatic bow from your sitting position at the piano bench, earning a gentle chuckle from her. 
“Oh, what a lovely performance by the loveliest girl.” A hand reached out towards you. 
You swiftly bowed your head under her palm, allowing her fingers to rest against your scalp. Gently she began to stroke your head, making a wide smile stretch your cheeks. Your heart’s weekly dose of encouragement. However, this tender moment was broken by the vibrations of your phone. Your eyes quickly scanned the name of the caller. 
Oh, it was your tutor, you skipped your lessons once more in favor of visiting the Bimarstan. 
The woman beside you takes note of this and lets out a huff. 
“You’re already plenty smart. I don’t understand why your parents insist on such endeavors.” 
You didn’t have the heart to tell her the hours of tutoring and cram schools you sandwiched between your demanding schedule was due to the idolization of her grandson. It wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t his. 
It was yours, for not being to stand on equal footing with the prodigy Alhaitham. You pressed your lips sealed. This detail didn’t escape her aging eyes. She shifted her attention to the sheet music propped up on the stand. 
“Do you know the story behind Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro?”
You tilted your head to the side, you’ve never researched any piece in depth before. Reading your answer from this action, the old lady continued. 
“It was written for quite a famous play. A story and message that caused waves through society at the time. A story about servants rebelling against their masters, taking fate into their own hands.” Her warm eyes gave you a knowing look. 
“That is why it’s my favorite song from Mozart.”
“Oh? Then I’ll play it for you again. As many times as you want.” The smile returned to your face. 
You never thought that the next time you’d ever play that song would be at her funeral. Fellow professors and colleagues dressed in black filled the room of the wake, paying their respects to her and their condolences to the young man beside you.
What an awful transition into adulthood Alhaitham had. 
Tears streamed down your face, dripping onto the marble floor. Peering at the face of your dearest friend, his cheeks were dry. 
By the time the sky began to turn its brilliant pink and orange hues, the attendees had all funneled out of the room. Your parents were the first ones to leave, but you stayed firmly by Alhaitham’s side. It was only you, him, and the casket in the room now. 
She wanted a private burial, thus the staff informed you that they’ll begin the process soon. However, before they did, you wanted to play her favorite song one last time. Your send-off for her. 
Sitting down at the sleek black piano provided by the funeral home, you took a deep breath. Alhaitham takes his place next to you on the bench, with his back facing the piano you couldn’t see his face. 
The bright tones of this joyful song resounding through the room harshly contrasted the somber mood. But you continued playing regardless, fingers never skipping a note nor compromising the tempo. 
Alhaitham’s head found its way on your shoulder, the weight slightly interfering with your range of motion. However, you didn’t say anything and never stopped playing. The bright melody comforting two grieving souls. 
The last memories you had of her resurfacing as he places the flowers down at her grave. The tombstone is still as clean and polished as the day it was inlaid into the ground. A testament to the diligence of her grandson, the only family she left behind.
Today was the first time the day didn’t end with a trip to your bed. The mood was inappropriate for such things. 
Just two souls quietly reminiscing about the things that are now gone. As it was, it shall never be again. 
Tumblr media
If his colleagues were to ever discover the current predicament the raising secretary of the company was in, they’d either dismiss it or laugh at him. How unthinkable. The phlegmatic man whose hands always held the reins of control, reduced to such a complacent fool? The desert would freeze over before any of them would ever believe such a thing. 
However, Alhaitham didn’t need to justify his actions to anyone. The ashen-haired man already knew the reason behind his actions. He’s known for quite a while now. He holds his convictions firmly and will walk through hell with them.
Sitting down in a private study room provided by the university, a senior was currently wallowing in an irrelevant emotion. Alhaihtam knows the name, it’s grief.
Of course, it’s depressing to lose a familiar face, a person who stood by your side throughout your developmental years. However, you were still alive. Why is he grieving over a person who’s still healthy and breathing? Questions unrelated to his thesis plagued his thoughts as his paper remained untouched on the desk.
Teal irises scan the stack of books he had piled to the side. Perhaps he should review some of the material to refresh his mind about his thesis on the consequences of unrecorded words.
Picking a random psychology journal from the mound, this book could hold the answers to why his thoughts are redundant. Alhaitham began his quest for an epiphany.
The student’s experienced eyes scanned through the text, noting details that could potentially support his points. It’s not a surprise that psychology and etymology go hand in hand, after all, words were born out of human thought and the need to communicate them.
This journal was only scratching at the ceiling that prevented him from crossing into the territory of true understanding. It frustrated him. 
Disdainfully scrutinizing the text further, running through each passage over and over, until he finally reads the first line of the final page:
“Psychology as a science has its limitations, and, as the logical consequence of theology is mysticism, so the ultimate consequence of psychology is love.”
The student finally closes the covers of the book, it had served its purpose.
No matter how many times his thoughts circled back, searching for correlations and different conclusions from figurative pinpoints. Alhaitham knew in the end, they were all just excuses. 
Love is illogical by nature, an unexplainable consequence of human thought. A fever which comes and goes independently of the will. Maybe, the true explanation of love has been lost to time, the unwritten words that belonged in the spaces between the script printed in preserved texts. 
So Alhaitham will understand his limits now. It matters not if he understands the origins of love or language or words. All that mattered to him is that he understands now: He was in love. A diagnosis and truth that came years too late. With this revelation quelling his thoughts, he finished his thesis. 
Acceptance, the last stage of grief. 
‘This is unhealthy’ a voice in his mind chastised. Alhaitham didn’t feel the need to defend his current actions, because the voice was right. This is unhealthy. Teal eyes concealed the running thoughts in his head, watching the raising and falling of your chest.
After all these years you reappeared in front of him. The ashen-haired man knew he couldn’t let this opportunity slip through his fingers. Even though it was made from a rope of thorns, he still grabbed onto it. 
For now, he shall set aside his pride, his hubris. Sex was the only time you would willingly approach him. Alhaitham was more than willing to exchange his body for the privilege of being close to you once more. A fair trade in his mind. 
‘If you love something set it free. If it comes back it's yours. If not, it was never meant to be.’
The stoic man is sure the saying would disagree with his tampering. Like setting a songbird free, only to lure it back into his hands with the irresistible treat of pleasure. It was all he could do. Alhaitham knew that cruelly grasping at the songbird will only snap the fragile tightrope that connected your paths. 
After all, you had fled the hated cage of your childhood home the moment the door was left open. He already decided he won’t do that to you. 
Instead, he’ll keep holding out his hand, palms wide open, waiting for you to come back to taste the pleasure he offers you time after time again.
You were laying on his chest, sleep drenched every fiber of your being, heart vibrating steadily against his own. 
It’s a paradox, how can your body be so close but your heart still so far away? 
The desire for sleep outweighed his lust for answers. Or it could be that he already knew, he was just delaying the thought for the morning. His heavy lids closed.
When they open again in the morning, he knows they’ll be greeted by the sight of an empty bed. He knows the sheets that hold your lingering scent will be cold. He knows he will be left alone in your apartment.
Alhaitham knows, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. 
Tumblr media
The Sumeru Grand Orchestra, the golden ticket for any musician. Status, recognition, and generous paychecks. When the auditions were first announced you were one of the first to jump at the opportunity, and so did everyone else, flooding the application sites, but you were able to secure a number: 211. 
Weeks in advance on a muted keyboard you practiced every classical piece you could, sharpening your sightreading senses. You were led into the waiting room with all the other aspiring musicians, it was now a game of survival. 
You made it to the final round. It’s been five hours since you last left the palatial concert hall where the auditions were held. The one cramped room was now a motionless void, mutterings of prayers to any archon that would listen whispered through the thick air. 
“Number 211.” 
You were the lamb up for slaughter. The audition piece that was placed into your hand half an hour ago crumbled under the force of your tense grip. The proctor closed the door behind you, stealing off your path of escape as they led you through the labyrinth. At the end of the tunnel, you were greeted by the harsh stage lights glaring off the grand piano. 
The curtains that once shielded you from the captious glares of the judges were gone. All of you laid out clearly on the stage. Your fate is balanced on the tips of their immaculate pens. The minuscule tremble of your hands couldn’t escape their hawk eyes.
Chin up and shoulders back, you strolled across the polished wooden planks, settling down at the matte black piano, it was like staring into the abyss. 
Taking a deep breath, you signaled the start. Fingers danced along the ivory keys in accordance with the notes memorized. This stanza was from Meditation from Thais, the hypnotic theme filling the empty concert hall.
It’s been a while since you hear your own playing resounded out through such a place. However, this was a turning point a chance to take fate into your own hands. 
To once again stand under the warm lights and bow to an audience enamored by your music. For the songbird to fly free from it’s grey sterile cubical. 
“Stop.” A cold voice struck the fragile wings of a bird in flight. 
You did as you were ordered, even before your mind even registered the words. Oh no, you weren’t finished, you didn’t get to complete this round. 
“Number 211 is disqualified. The playing is soulless, empty notes that just echo off the walls.” 
Soulless. Huh, you’ve never been told that before. Raindrops landed into your unblinking eyes as they observed the darkening sky. Was nature taking pity on you too? Crying for you when your tear ducts were still frozen in shock? You let the cold droplets trail down your cheek. Around you, the crowd dressed in suits and ties walked passed the scene of a death.
The death of your dreams. 
You used up one of your precious sick days to attend this audition, but now it might no longer be just an excuse. You couldn’t feel anything but the sharp shards of shattered hope gouging into your back. Staring up at the gray sky from the deep, cold well of your misery.
When did this happen? When did the bright fire fizzle out? When did your passion die?
A sorry excuse of a laugh slipped out. No, it might be accurate to say that there was never a passion in the first place, something nonexistent cannot die. Something nonexistent cannot be created even if the haze of a fever dream might say otherwise. Now that the rain had washed away that haze, you could now clearly see the void. 
Did you really like the piano? Or was it a lie engrained into your flesh by stern hands? 
Maybe the judges were right, your playing was soulless, pieces only ever practiced for technical perfection. Talent meticulously crafted by grueling long hours. Fingers that separated your beating heart from the inanimate black and white keys. In the end, you were an artificial prodigy, with an artificial passion that quickly denigrated under the droplets of calm rain. 
“You’re soaked.” A baritone voice resounded behind you as a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. 
Alhaitham had just gotten off the clock, exiting the grand sliding doors only to spot your listless figure standing as an obstacle for the weaving crowd of the city. However, you kept staring at the dull sky, uncaring about how your wet clothes clung to your shivering figure. You didn’t even seem to perceive his words. 
“You’re going to get sick.” Two warm hands placed themselves upon your shoulders, guiding your body to a secluded area, away from the crowd and rain. 
This motion jostled your eyes, allowing them to read the company name proudly displayed on the front of the towering skyscraper. Was this the future you had gambled away for a false path shown to you by a dream? A steady job, good savings benefits, and prospective increases in income. All the chips you had pushed into the center of the table as you drew dud cards. 
You shifted your eyes away from the imposing letters and connected with teal-orange irises. Was his mask of indifference hiding his smug satisfaction that his prediction was correct? Was he holding back an ‘I told you so’? The bitter whispers of a green-eyed devil tickled against the shell of your ear. 
“Come, I’ll drive you home.” 
No, you can’t go back to your abysmal apartment. You couldn’t even stomach the thought of seeing the sight of your reality. The messy bedroom, the music sheets scattered all across the cluttered living room, the mocking keyboard pressed up against a corner. If you were to step foot back in there, you’ll disappear under the murky waters in the ocean called ‘regret’. 
Your trembling hands grounded themselves in the crisp button-down, crumbling the fabric against Alhaitham’s smooth skin. No words could travel past your vocal cords, throat numb to move. All you could do was shake your hang head from side to side. You could feel the ashen-haired man take a deep breath, his mind quickly forming an alternative plan. 
“Come with me.” Large hands gently untangling your fingers from his clothes. 
Those same gentle hands were now rubbing a fresh towel through your dripping hair, soaking up the excess water that had been trailing droplets down your skin. His house was quiet, no rumbling of car engines from the streets, no loud gurgling pipes, no thumping footsteps. Still and serene, only allowing the soft pattering of rain kissing the ground and windows.
Alhaitham hasn’t spoken a single word to you ever since he welcomed you into his home and sat you down. 
As Alhaitham continued with his efforts to warm your shivering body, all you could do was observe the spotless wooden floors. They were so polished and lustrous… just like the grandiose stage.
Something vile was creeping up your neck, slowly making its way up to the falling sanctuary of your mind. No, you needed to push it back, you needed to distract it. To buy you some time before the vileness consumes you wholly. 
Hopeless hands trailed up the toned arms of the man currently drying your hair, making his movements stop. You took this opportunity to shift your body so that it pressed against his, the dampness of your clothes transferring to his. Ah, it must be uncomfortable for him. 
Clumsily, you began to undo the neat buttons of his button-down, only for your hands to be enclosed within a delicate grip. You could feel the weight of his condemnatory gaze upon you, teal eyes observing your movements as if he was calculating his next move. 
There wasn’t any time for contemplation. The bitter bile thoughts were quickly encroaching on their destination. With your hands immobilized you used your mouth instead, nuzzling into the skin that peeked through the unopened portion.
You could feel the small shiver of his warm body reacting to your cold cheek. Alhaitham lets out a deep sigh, hot breath fanning over the top of your head. He got the message. 
Your soaked dress was pulled over your head, heavy black fabric falling to the side of the bed in which you lay now. The sheets providing your shivering body with softness and a semblance of warmth. Alhaitham presses tender kisses down the nape of your neck, stopping between the valley of your breast to push your body further up the bed.
Larger hands ran along the length of your legs, as if to warm them up with the slow friction. Your legs gave no resistance as he places one over his shoulder, lips brushing against your knee. 
You let out a small sigh, the skin-on-skin contact was just what your frozen body needed. Your body twisted further into his sheets, your other leg pressed against the back of his hip as if to spur him to hasten his pace. However, Alhaitham, being the steadfast man he is, ignored your neediness and continued to trail kisses down your soft skin. His mouth ended his journey with a slow and deep lap at your clit, causing your body to jolt. 
“Mmm.”
Your skin has thawed, every nerve now acutely aware of each slow lick his wet tongue brushed against your sensitive bud. You no longer had any pride to uphold, thus moans just freely flowed out of your mouth just as how slick dripped from your aching hole. Once more you dug your heel into him, your neglected walls yearning for attention.
This time he was merciful, running one thick finger along the slick pooling between your folds. Gathering up the dew and tracing small circles along the entrance.
A whine followed, you twisted even more along the tussled sheets, reaching a hand down to tangle into his ashen locks. Alhaitham gave you want you wanted, slowly his thick finger was welcomed into your eager walls as his tongue continued to play with your clit. Your head was thrown back, heavy pants fogging up the room in the air, lidden eyes barely anything but the back of your head. 
Another finger was soon added, stretching out your leaking hole only leaving your gummy walls craving more. A few soft kisses were pressed against your now twitching bud, before his skilled tongue took over for the final push toward nirvana. With practiced precision his fingers swiftly pressed against that spongey patch, making white flames shoot up your spine. Your quivering legs and curling toes didn’t faze Alhaitham in the slightest.
“OH!”
With a firm tug to ashen locks and one final flick to your swollen clit, your eyes meet the back of your head, a stretched moan bounced off the walls. Back arched almost painfully off the bed, Alhaitham continued the slow thrust of his soaked fingers into your contracting hole. As you rode the waves of pleasure back down, Alhaitham finally detaches his lips from your cunt, a slick trail connecting them. 
The burning between your legs didn’t stop. You needed more, legs wrapping around his muscular torso, urging him to give you more. His self-control all but turns into dust in your presence. There’s not a plausible scenario where he could ever deny you. Finally, his leaking member can have its turn. 
Fighting against the restraints of your legs, Alhaitham was able to pull the condom over his full length. Your hole jolted with joy the moment it felt his fat tip pressing up against your entrance. The slow circling before he finally sunk in, in an instant your walls clung onto every inch he pushed in, thanking him with pulsing contractions.
He sucked in a long hiss from how your warm, slick walls perfectly hugged him. You let your tongue loll out with a deep moan, legs pulling his body closer so that your arms could find purchase around his broad shoulders. 
His pace was slow and deep, warming your walls up so as to not hurt the delicate you. This greatly displeased you, evident by how your nails dug into the solid muscle of his shoulders. You need it fast, you wanted it deep, you wanted him to pound those bitter thoughts away with his thick member. Two hands clasped around your hips, snapping your body tightly against his. He’ll grant your request. 
“Ah! Ah! AH!” 
His merciless pace had your breast bouncing and incomprehensible words babbling out of your lips. Heavy cock dragging out along your grasping walls, then slamming his hips harshly against your sobbing cunt. Every punishing thrust was welcomed by your slick walls thanking him. His heavy pants fanned across your ear as he continued this ruthless speed. 
Your body was now burning, precipitation hanging heavy in the air, yet you still arched your back off the bed to chase after his warmth. Bodies entangled in a mess of limbs in an animalistic chase after pleasure and orgasm. 
The wet noises of your weeping hole welcoming him back in over and over again. In between the heavy slaps of his balls against your sloppy cunt and thick tip bullying your poor spot, you could feel the deep vibrations in his chest. 
“Look at me.” You felt him pull away just a bit so he could have a clear view of your loose face. 
You didn’t want to. Lest his searching teal eyes discover the truth of why you pulled him into bed, to give him the satisfaction. You squeezed your lids closed. The particularly deep thrust he snapped displayed his displeasure at your actions. 
“Please.” The unfamiliar words coming from his mouth made your eyes wide again. The tone is gentle. 
So, with your resolve weakened, you finally connected with his gaze. What was that look in his eyes? It was too soft to be malice, too calm to be anger, too tender to just be lust. Yet your pleasure-melted brain couldn’t process it.
 In gratitude for you granting his wish, his thumb found its way to your swollen clit, rubbing deep circles into the sensitive nerve. You pressed yourself impossibly hard against his body, walls clamping down on his thick member. 
His actions made the knot inside your stomach pull against itself taught until the treads of sanity snapped. Even though your eyes were rolled to the back of your head, all you could see was the blinding white light of cloud nine. Your walls clamped down around him like a vise, snug walls now binding his length. Alhaitham clenches his jaw, stoic face twisted in the throws of pleasure as he spills himself into the barrier deep within. 
Long fingers painting the sides of your hips red as he recomposes himself. Chest heaving from the exertion. He helps himself to a few more slow thrusts in your gummy walls, riding out his own orgasm even as his red tip teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure. Your soft thighs still entrapping his towering frame. It looks like you still haven’t come down yet. 
Alhaitham’s hand gently cupped your messy face. Your lips were off limits, so he shall kiss those bitter tears away from your eyes instead. 
Tumblr media
Like always you woke up before Alhaitham again. However, this time you couldn’t bear to look at his face. Was this out of embarrassment, shame, or guilt? You didn’t know and didn’t care.
Unwrapping his arms from around your waist, you hobbled towards the clack lump of your dress. The fabric was still ever so slightly damp, ah, the sensation against your skin made the bitter bile restart its journey again. 
You couldn’t help the envy that bubbled up in your system as you observed the spacious halls of Alhaitham’s house. Footsteps softly tap along the polished wood floors so as not to awaken the sleeping homeowner.
Of course, he has a nice house in the most upscale neighborhood. Of course, it's located in a quiet suburb a commutable distance away from the raucous city. Of course, it has nice big windows and expensive dark wood furnishings. 
Of course. Of course. Of course. It’s because he’s Alhaitham. He’s got everything. 
Your face scrunched up as bitterness crept up from the back of your tongue. It wasn’t from the bitter waters of regret, no, it was from a certain green-eyed creature. You needed to leave this house as soon as possible before you did something foolish. 
You dug your hand into your purse for your phone, ready to call a lift back to your shabby apartment. It was all becoming too much. Just at the end of the hall, you could spot the solid oak doors that blocked off the outside world. Get out of this cage and breathe the fresh air. 
You no longer cared about the noise your steps were making, thumps echoed throughout the halls frantically carrying you toward the shiny knob. A shaky hand grasped onto the cold smooth metal, ready to twist the deadbolt free. A glimmer of white coming from the side room caught your eye, reeling it back from its tunnel vision. Your head couldn’t help but follow. 
It was a grand piano. 
His former roommate was right, the white lacquer finish on the piano contrasted harshly against the dark wood bookshelves. It really did look out of place, taking up too much space in the side library. The dark walnut wood piano seat looked odd next to it as well. 
The viridescent seat cushion looked a bit worn as if it had been sat in regularly. Still, the pearly finish that reflected the morning rays beckoned you closer, the sense of nostalgia growing stronger with each step. 
It looked exactly like your old piano, your most cherished treasure that had been plundered from you so long ago. Trembling hands ran along the glossy fallboard, not a speck of dust was found along the paths of your fingers. You caught sight of the gold lettering inscribed along the front, it was even the same brand. 
The pull of intrigue was too great, you had to know, but do you dare? Why are you lifting your hopes up so high? Have you not learned your lesson after being dropped over and over again onto the cold pavement of disappointment below? Maybe you were some type of masochist. Just like Schrodinger’s cat, you can’t confirm if those hopes were dead or alive until you opened the lid. 
A resounding creek rang out from the protesting hinges, the lacquered lid heavy as if trying to conceal the truth away from your searching eyes. But your determination beat out any old hinges, lifting the heavy top above your head. Your breathing halted. 
Property of Bookworm and Earworm
It was written clear as day on the naked wood concealed by the glossy outer casing. Clumsy letters scribbled in harsh black permanent marker. The proof of authenticity. This is your treasured piano. 
Your arm lost all strength, the heavy lid slammed down reverberating all the strings and hammers in a chaotic symphony of shock. The clashing vibrations pierced your ears, causing the ringing that was now the background music to the realization crashing down upon you. 
All this time, Alhaitham stayed himself. His unfazed individuality moved through life to the metronome of his own heart. Like a firm apple tree whose roots held the ground below him together. The fruits of his labor dropping down to satiate a heart hungry for encouragement.
The shiny red fruits were given at every meeting, in exchange for every CD and performance attended. All this time, he never once looked at you with pity nor disdain. He treasured you.
And what have you given in return? You participated in gossip behind his back. You looked at him with the same prejudice you promised to defend him from. You broke your promises to him. You lied to him. You used him, even down to his physical body to further your own self-interests. 
When did the whispers of a green-eyed monster turn you into that selfish child from the storybook? 
If your past self was there to witness the scene in front of her, she’d be appalled. She’d beat you with hatred at the torment you put her beloved friend through. Yes, she’d hate you. You hate you. You’ve never hated yourself more.
How could you do this to him? You really are your parent’s child. You never considered how the shrapnel of consequences from your actions would wound those close by. 
You couldn’t even look at the reflection staring back at you from the polished white surface, her eyes stared back at you with malice. You were a selfish traitor. 
Too self-absorbed in your own wallowing to notice the slow steps approaching from down the hallway. Alhaitham’s steps were slow as he stared at the back of your figure. Like a watcher trying not to startle a resting songbird. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from his eyes, making sure he wasn’t just looking at the afterimage of a person who had long left the house. 
A small creak was all it took for your head to snap toward his approaching figure. Eyes wide and shaking. Alhaitham made sure to stop a arms length away as he accesses the situation. It looks like you’ve discovered his small secret. A fragment of the past that he relentlessly searched for, the only time he ever asked anything of your parents. He planned to return it to you one day. 
You looked like you could collapse at any moment, so Alhaitham held out his hand, palms open and awaiting. You reached a quivering hand out, pulling back slightly a few times before finally landing. Your fingers clasped onto each other, you drew closer to his board figure until your forehead was resting against his chest. You didn’t dare look at his face.
He made no further moves. 
“I’m sorry…I’m so sorry… I’m so fucking sorry.” Your mouth couldn’t stop spewing the regrets deep from your heart. 
Even though you were apologizing, you didn’t want him to forgive you. You couldn’t even forgive yourself, how could he? It would be easier if he just hated you. If he were to just say ‘I hate you’ right now with that stoic voice of his, you could die peacefully. The best end that you deserved. You could feel the wet spots forming on his shirt from your tears. 
“I won’t forgive you.” The vibrations from his deep voice were felt against you.
Four words cut into you deeper than any knife ever could. But you deserved this pain. Your bottom lip clenched tightly between your teeth, on the verge of splitting open from how hard you were biting back your cries. You didn’t deserve to cry. 
“Not until you play Overture to Mozart's Marriage of Figaro.” 
Those words halted your breathing. Like a rope that’s been thrown down the dark well you were wallowing in. Will your hands reach out and grasp onto this opportunity? Slowly you lifted your gaze up. Something behind the calm teal of his eyes was egging you on to do so, to take a hold of the lifeline thrown down from the bright sky. 
“… Of course.” You let go of him. 
Moving back over to your grand piano. Lifting the smaller section of the lid first this time placing it gently back on the larger section, allowing the music rack to appear. Setting up the notches into position, you then lifted the heavy back lid up. Placing the prop up this time so as to not put your piano through the same chaos again. 
Finally, the dustfree fallboard was lifted up, revealing the keyboards that held the faint imprints of history. You settled your self-down at the bench, your hands hesitantly reaching out only for your fingers to retract the moment your soft tips brushed against the smooth ivory. The bitter shame of failure scorching your delicate senses. 
Inhaling a deep breath, you turned to face Alhaitham reconnecting with his teal gaze as he stayed in place. A silent plead. With quiet steps, he approaches closer to the bench, the wooden protested under the added weight. Two bodys not touching, facing in opposite directions. Ah, just like a familiar scene from many years ago. 
Once more, you attempted to reach out your fingers, emboldened by the soothing body heat of the man besides you. Placing your fingers back into position, the scorning of your finger tips becoming irrelevant. Lulling you to return back into the blackness of your sanctuary of mind. Recalling the song that symbolized a period of great change, wonderful change. 
The pressed keys played their notes, the hammers inside your piano striking against the string. Ringing out the awful tones of stings that have gone out of tune from years of unuse. Even if it stung you ears and his the same, you continued to play the chipper overture. The bitter bile fizzling out like sea form, as laughter tickled the inside of your throat. 
“It sounds terrible.” You giggled honestly. 
“Mm. I’m not all that familiar with performance etiquette, but I’m certain talking during a show is bad manners.” There was no bit to his words. You couldn’t see his face, you could hear the smile. 
Two hearts now closer than previously, became the metronome for the off-key rendition of Mozart's Marriage of Figaro, accompanied by the bright giggles of the pianist and the content sigh of her audience. Outside the window, a songbird chirps to greet the beautiful sun that resurfaced after a day of rain.
He absolutely adores you, he always has. He knows that you know now. But he also knows that you weren’t ready to hear it. The weight of three small words would be enough to topple the stability of your consciousness. It wasn’t strong enough to handle them, not after the mangling hands of guilt and regret vandalized it. 
So he won’t say those three words, not yet, not until you’ve repaired your cracking foundations. Alhaitham will wait to tell you ‘I love you’. Like a patient tree standing on the hill biding its time for the return of a beloved creature. 
Fin~
DON’T PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS.
2K notes · View notes
sprainedwriting · 12 days
Text
All we have is time.
Adam x fem!reader
Summary: Ignorance is bliss, but sadly you aren’t an idiot.
Part 1 Part 2
CW/TW: Porn, COLLEGE AUU, TW:Adam Oral M reciving, one sided pinning, possessive behaviour, please tell me if i missed something, Choking, breeding kink, unsafe sex, toxic relation ship and attachment , implied mental heath issues on readers side
Basically I wrote this for @namazunomegami and I but u guys can read it too ig /j
The drive to your friends house to meet for lunch was painful. For you at least, your friend had a blast. Asking you questions which you didn’t really want to answer. For someone who claimed to hate Adam she sure was interested in knowing about his performance in bed.
Once your friend parked, you made sure to take 2 steps at once when you walked about the stairs, quickly knocking at your friends door. You didn’t take the elevator, since you were too afraid to be stuck in a small room with her.
“…And like, is it true that he has a you-know-what piercing? How does that even work, does it hurt you? Or is extra stimulation…?” She was right on your trail.
The door opened and your other friend looked annoyed, her brows were furrowed and she had a scowl on her pretty face, “What the fuck? Did no one teach-“
You pushed past her into her unfairly huge living room, making sure that all 3 of your friends are in the room when you made your confession, “I slept with Adam and now she won’t leave me alone!” You pointed your finger at your pestering friend, Bernadette.
Bernadette grinned like she was experiencing joy for the first time, “Twice! She slept with him twice!”
You groaned loudly, covering your face with your hands to avoid the stares of everyone. You flopped down onto the soft couch.
“Oh my god? Details?”
“..Wait was that why you disappeared at the parties? You were fucking Adam..or more like Adam was fucking you. My, My.” Your other 2 friends chimed in, a couple who moved in together after 1 month of dating and have been going up and down ever since. So you feel like they can’t judge you. But they’re also lesbians and that’s basically part of their culture so like maybe you’re really the odd one out.
“You guys are acting like we are dating. Can we talk less about my sex life and do more eating?” You whined out. Daring to look up towards your whole three friends, you gave them your best impression of puppy dog eyes.
Monica sighed and twirled a black strand of coily hair around her finger, her short but still perfectly manicured pink nails were in a stark contrast to her dark hair. Her girlfriend, Dymphna, gave you a once over with a slight smirk on her face. Her bleached hair perfectly framing her soft face.
“Why do you never want to over share sex details with us?” Bernadette whined. For someone who acted at first like that was worst thing to ever happen to her, she sure was chipper now. MAN.
“Bro, it would be, like, really hypothetical of me to break up with the extra for sharing all of our sex details only to turn around and do the same to my friends!” You told them sternly.
That wasn’t the only reason you broke up with him, but it summoned it up pretty well. He was Adam’s drummer, and him being part of the band was his first red flag. Other warning signs were his selfish behaviour in and outside the bedroom, him NEVER defending you against his mother, and shit talking you behind your back towards the band. It was a nasty on and off relationship, with him constantly breaking up with you for whatever reason floated around his head and you took him back ever time. That changed once you found out just how exactly he talks about you to his friends, it was the last straw.
Sometimes you wonder what Adam thinks of the, mostly made up, stories he has heard from your ex. Is that why he sought you out?
“Bae, that’s different. He’s a guy. We are girls, which means we are better, and we share everything.” Dymphna chimed in.
The back and forth went like that for a while, lunch passed and so did dinner and before you knew it you were camped out in your friends living room. This isn’t the first time lunch escalated to a sleepover, so you were prepared. While you were chilling under your blanket, your friends started up their questioning again.
You know that Adam wouldn’t care if you shared sex details with your friends, or anyone else really. Matter of fact, you think it would stroke his ego badly. What you were more worried about is spilling too much. His intense possessiveness, the fact that he herded you into a exclusive relationship. One sided exclusive relationship? His stare, lowkey stalkerish behaviour, his soft touches, the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t noticing. The emotional charged atmosphere in the car.
“So it’s casual, right?” Monica asked carefully. At some point you got pissed off with everyone hounding you for answers.
“Yeah. What else would it be? Has he ever had a serious relationship in college?”
“Hmm. Well, he does talk sometimes about dates he went to. One time he bitched and moaned in practice about a girl he went on multiple dates with, who talked about equality but didn’t want to pay for the date. Man, he didn’t stop talking about that for weeks. I wonder how Lute can deal with him?” The last part was more mumbled to herself than anything. Her girlfriend was draped over her lap while the both sat on the couch.
Adam and Lute run a female-only self defence club, which is affectionately called the The Exorcists. Monica and Dymphna met at the club during their freshman year. This also meant they're more familiar with Adam than you.
Bernadette was already passed out besides you, her soft snores filled the air.
“You know the story about his ex-girlfriends?” Dymphna whispered, conscious of your sleeping friend.
“Only a bit. Dated two girls in highschool, both cheated. The second one somehow screwed him over, hard. Got kicked out of his father’s house, lived with his mother…Did I miss something?”
“That summons it up... Do you think he was into you before the final break up?” Monica chimed in.
And you think of the times where you were single for a small time, at party’s and gatherings and at campus, were Adam approached you. But you were so far up your heart ache that you simply repressed all those memories. Oh my god. The memories crashed into you like a wave.
“…Naahh. Barley saw him before that.” You tried to avoid the topic, by badly lying. You see them exchange knowing glances, but you just ignore that. Like everything else uncomfortable in your life you ignore. Avoidance above everything else.
Maybe you’re just fucking delusional and your own ego went to your head.
“Wait! So at the last party you skipped out on you were already sleeping with each other, right?”
“Yeah…Why?”
Another glance was exchanged between the couple, which started to piss you off. You hate third wheeling.
Dymphna sat up, rubbing at her eye, “Huh. Well…Hmmm..Adam seemed kinda pissed of at the party. He seemed to be looking for…something. But! Don’t worry about it.”
You threw your head back into your pillow, trying to hide away. Jesus. Your friends chuckled at you, while they got up.
“Be careful, I think if you break Adam’s heart Lute will have to tranq gun him down. Literally.” Monica giggled at the thought.
They both kissed your cheek while wishing you a goodnight, returning to their bedroom.
Even though it usually doesn’t happen to you, you couldn’t fall asleep. As much as you turned in your makeshift bed, sleep didn’t come easy to you. It’s midnight now, and the only comfort you have is your professor cancelling all the classes for the day, so it’s not like you had to wake up early.
You did have an obgyn appointment tho, to talk over birth control options for you. After that you had to work a shift. Ugh. What you wouldn’t give to be rich, but, well, this is why you’re the first one in your family to go to college. Breaking the cycle, or whatever Bernadette is always babbling about.
In the end you lost the fight to whatever demon you were fighting in your mind and you pulled out your phone from the charger and started mindlessly scrolling.
A message appeared on the top of your screen from Adam. Damn. Ok. You opened the chat log.
[Adam Godfree]: University at Albany Study: Semen Eases Depression in Women {Link} 22:34PM
[Adam Godfree]: u up tits? 12:22AM
[Reader]: Yes. 12:22AM
You see the type bubble appear and disappear for a solid minute. This isn’t the first time Adam had texted you at an ungodly hour, asking if you’re up. It’s the first time though where you respond. You rub your hand over your face, feeling stupid all of the sudden. Before you could throw your phone away Adam responded.
[Adam Godfree]: yeah??? 12:24AM
[Adam Godfree]: want me to pick u up bbae 12:24AM
[Adam Godfree]: or i can come over idgaf 12:24
[Adam Godfree]: whatever gets me in that tight pusssssy 12:25AM
[Reader]: I’m at Monica and Dymphna’s right now. 12:25AM
[Adam Godfree]: my fave lesbos 12:25Am
[Adam Godfree]: i can pick you up where ever when ever baby 12:26AM
[Adam Godfree]: jus say the word 12:26AM
You started chewing at your lips, fuck. It’s not like you could sleep and as you learned from the two last times, nothing puts you more to sleep than having Adam rearrange your guts. You looked over to Bernadette snoring besides you, her whole body was arranged like a pretzel. She was a heavy sleeper, so you wouldn’t wake her up. And hearing suspicious sounds from your friends bedroom means also they wouldn’t notice you fucking off.
Your nerves would have been stilled if you knew how Adam was nervously pacing around in his own empty apartment.
[Reader]: {Location} 12:28AM
[Adam Godfree]: be there in 10 12:28AM
SHIT. Ok, deep breaths you got this. Looking around for your bag, you realised you had to pack exactly 0. You ha shoved everything recklessly into your bag, but it was all there. Making really sure you got everything, you rubbed at your face and neck, to get the nervousness out. Why are you so nervous?? That guy literally shoved his tongue up your pussy you actually need to chill.
Before you realised it, eight minutes have already passed. Carefully gathering your bag and jacket, you simply slipped into your shoes without tying them. Walk of shame vibes without having done the shameful part yet. Slipping into your jacket, you left the apartment and made your way to the elevator. You wish you had an elevator in your building. You’re pretty sure you saw a rat last week just chilling in the staircase.
Pressing the button and patiently waiting for the elevator you decided to text in the group chat where your whereabouts will be. Before anyone thinks you ran away or something.
Getting into the elevator you made your way down, till you left the building through the huge automatic glass doors. Looking around, you tried to remember what the fuck Adam’s car looked like. Expensive, for sure. But everything here was expensive so you were lost. Making another sweep of the street, you spotted Adam’s car, but only because you spotted Adam first. He was typing away at his phone.
Walking over, you opened the passenger door and got in. You simply put your bag in-front of your feet. Adam seemed slightly startled but he quickly catches himself once he saw it was you. You muttered out a small ‘Hi’ while sighing. As soon as you were in Adam’s presence you felt the tiredness creeping in. Weird.
“Hey, baby. How’s it going?” He murmured out, he grasped his huge hand against the nape of your neck and clashes your lips into each other.
Adam kept it PG for the first 5 seconds, which honestly made you proud of him, after that he threw out any decency and tangled your tongues together. Grasping his shoulders to push him gently away from you, you could have sworn you heard him straight up whine quietly.
“Alright, pussy pleaser, how about you drive to your place? So we can finally have sex in a bed. I can’t take another semi-public place.” You told him teasingly.
Adam scoffed at you with a smile on his lips, “I’m surprised you can take me at all, babe.”
Rolling your eyes at him, you turned around to fasten your seatbelt. Adam packed away his phone (who was he texting?) and shifted the gear to pull out of the side walk. You still think your friends were full of shit. One way to find out.
Sitting up suddenly, you turned your whole body towards Adam. He averted his gaze from the road to you, raising his eyebrow at you.
“Do you ever feel like you’re going insane?” You decided to ask him.
He scratched at his chin while furrowing his brow at you, “I don’t give a shit. We gonna fuck or what?”
Oh thank god. He couldn’t care less about you.
“Yup!”
Adam gave you one last once over while slightly shaking his head at you. He pulled out into the street and started the way to his home. You were a bit relieved. The less feelings involved the better.
You watched the street lamps and different buildings pass you. You tried to take a glance into the windows, you never learned how to mind your own business. Nothing was more interesting than seeing how other people lived.
Adam smoothly parked his car at his assigned parking space. The sign had a guitar sticker besides Adam’s last name, Godfree.
Getting out of the car, you hurled your bag over your shoulder. You already thought your friends lived in a fancy neighbourhood but Adam really knows how to do everyone. Walking up towards him, since you didn’t know where the fuck to go, you looked up to him.
Adam placed his hand on your shoulder, where your bag was thrown over, and gently pushed you in-front of him. He lead the way while being behind you. His fingers weaselled its way behind the bag strap, successfully sliding it off your shoulder and slinging it across his own shoulder.
You threw a glance behind you, to find out what his plan was, but he was grinning at you.
“What kind of man would I be if I let my favourite girl carry anything?” He whispered into your ear. You felt yourself begin to flush, looking straight ahead, while Adam had his arm wrapped around your side. Walking now beside you, he dragged you into his side. Chuckling at you, he herded you to his apartment.
You were too focused on the feeling of Adam’s big, warm body besides yours to focus on anything going on around you. You’re down bad. In the trenches, basically.
Entering Adam’s apartment, you didn’t quite know what you expected but it wasn’t this. Part of you imagined a messy apartment, with dishes and trash pilling up everywhere, but that wasn’t the case. His apartment felt empty, the way Ikea display rooms feel empty. It’s nice, minimalistic even.
It’s clear to you that Adam didn’t decorate the living room. You slipped out off your shoes, everything was so sterile here you felt bad just existing. Adam took of his own shoes and jacket, hanging it up on the coat rack. He helped you out of your own jacket and hung it up.
Adam looked you up and down and started chuckling at you, “The fuck are you even wearing?”
You looked down at your pyjamas which. Yeah, was embarrassing. Your oversized t-shirt had permanent bleach and hair dye stains from adventure with your friends in it. It was a band shirt of Adam’s band, a prototype you got from your ex. Your fuzzy pants were as old as time. You bought them when you were 13, the colour was washed out. It was blue with duck prints on it. Together with more mysterious stains.
“..What? You don’t like my sleeping fit?” You looked up into his smiling face. His eyes were soft.
“Nah, babe. Nothing gets me more hard than…Fuzzy ducks. What the fuck did you even do to your clothes?” Adam grasped your hand into his, starting to lead you towards his bedroom. His fingers were squeezing yours.
“You never dyed your friends hair at 3am because her crush didn’t text her back for 15 minutes?” You smiled at the memory of Dymphna losing her mind over Monica before they got together.
“Damn, let me guess Dy? Didn’t do that, but Lute did force me to make fake accounts to test one of her toys.” Adam sniffed, “Don’t tell her I told you that. She would kill me.”
Adam opened up his bedroom door and finally you see something you were expecting. It wasn’t trash or dirt, but a few guitars strewn across the room. His big bed was shoved into a corner, it was unmade. Huge windows were covered by the curtains and his desk was surprisingly tidy. His laundry basket was overflowing. On his desk was a photo of him and Lute, they seemed happy. Everything was messy but still clean.
While you were looking around, Adam put your bag down besides his closet. For a second he simply watched you, standing in his room. He pinched himself, trying to get his shit together.
You heard Adam walk towards you, you turned around and Adam grasped your face into his hands, he bend down and kissed you. Soft. Gently. Lovingly. Your heart sped up.
His body was towering over yours, his huge hands on your face and he started to lead you towards his bed. He pushed you softly unto the plush surface, while you laid on his bed he took of his sweater, throwing it somewhere on the floor.
He smirked down at you, grasping at your knees and spreading your legs apart,
“Tell me, baby, do you rub that pretty pussy to the thought of me? Huh?” His tone was arrogant, like he knew the answer to that already.
Which, yeah, he did. Busted. Are you that predictable?? You were going to die on the spot. You covered the lower half of your face with your hand.
“…Maybe.” Your voice was small. Your own pride was too big to admit to that. Shit.
Adam’s hands grasped at your hips, his thumbs were gently massaging your skin. His hands wandered down, grabbing at the waistband of your pants he pulled it and your underwear off your body carefully. Like unwrapping a present.
“Oh yeah? Show me.”
“Wha…Why?”
“ ‘m not gonna touch you till you give me a show, slut.” Adam kneeled down before the bed between your legs, his head in his hand, the elbow resting on the blanket. His eyes were focused on you.
Fuckfuckfuck.
You bit down on your lip. Who would win in this stare off? Not you for sure.
Avoiding his sharp eyes, you slowly spread your legs further apart. Adam’s eyes moved from your face to your glistening pussy. He started to smile at the sight.
A thought popped up in your head. Adam loves physical touch, that much is clear. You just have to give him the best show ever and forbid him from touching you, as a little revenge. Teasing him will be fun. Hopefully. He’s going to eat you alive.
Your hand moved from your chest, to your stomach, to your cunt. Making sure Adam could see everything, you spread your folds apart with your fingers. You heard him hitch his breath. Ok. You can do this. Adam is obviously infatuated with you, so hopefully you can’t disappoint him. Too much.
Starting gently, you gathered some wetness on your middle and ring finger from your dripping hole. Rubbing slow circles into your clit, your lip got caught between your teeth while you tried to stifle a moan.
Adam shuffled on his knees, his one hand went towards his hardening dick. Rubbing at his bulge through his sweatpants he groaned slightly at the sight of you. This really was his favourite fucking show.
“You like that, whore? Do like touching yourself for me?” Adam spoke in a breathy tone.
You wish you had mastered dirty talk like Adam, but part of you just wishes to hide away forever. The other part wants to get dicked down by Adam constantly. So yeah, your mind is pretty torn apart.
“Uh-Hu.” You simply gasped out, who needs words when you can just moan.
Fingers moving from your pulsing clit, you started to slowly enter them into your cunt. Pumping them in and out, the frustrating truth was that your fingers were much smaller than Adam’s dick. Or his fingers. So the places he could reach were basically unknown territory to you.
“ Shit, babe, need me to help that greedy pussy out?” Adam looked into your eyes up. Fucking hell. Sexiest man alive.
He started sitting up, his hands reaching out towards your thighs.
You placed your foot on his shoulder, pushing him down. Usually Adam’s eyes were sharp, like that of a hawks, but right now he reminded you of a puppy with the way he looked up at you with round eyes.
“Why don’t you beg a bit for it, Adam? What makes you think you deserve it?” You tried to make your voice as sultry as possible. It felt more shaky than anything.
Now it was Adam’s turn to be flustered, his face was flushed and he covered his mouth with his hand. Ah. Did you over do it? Before you could take your words back, Adam leaned his head against your ankle, nuzzling the skin there. He avoided eye contact.
“..Fuuuuck, woman, you got me so fucking pussy whipped. You know how down bad I am? Nobody squeezes my dick like you do. Shit….Please, let me fuck that holy like cunt.” Adam grumbled out, him being submissive was hot as fuck. Maybe you should gag him next time. Or tie him up? That’d be hot.
You sat up more, removing your fingers to grasp at Adam’s bare shoulders, “…Damn, Adam. Please stuff me full.”
That was all it took for Adam pounce on you, he grasped his hands under your back, throwing you towards the pillows. Your landing was cushioned, thankfully. Adam crawled over you, towering over you with his much bigger body. Your talent is really biting off more than you can chew.
Adam leaned down to whisper in your ear, “That was really hot, sugar tits, honestly. But we really gotta give you some good lessons on how to properly dom, don’t cha think? We can remember that for next time, now we gotta focus on filling you up real nice ‘n good.”
You simply nodded at Adam’s words, you want him so bad. You hope he wants you just as bad.
He clashed his lips into your own, teeth clanking together and spit being exchanged like it’s your only life force. As if this could heal you, heal you both. You think it does, a bit.
Adam’s warm hands snaked themselves under your shirt, his hands exploring your body. He stopped the kiss to take your shirt off, now you were completely naked, while Adam was still wearing his sweatpants.
“A bit unfair, no?” You ask him, while trailing your fingers over his stomach, towards his happy trail to then tug at the waistband of his sweats. His dick was straining against the grey cloth. A dark spot of pre cum was forming.
Adam chuckled, “Everything for my favourite slut.” He teasingly dragged his sweats down slowly, together with his underwear.
His dick sprang free and it was once again clear that your fingers could not compare to Adam’s sheer size. You already felt a phantom stretch in your pussy at the sight of him.
Adam started kissing at your neck while his hand massaged your tit, pulling and pinching at the nipple. You whined. Once you felt him trying to leave marks on your neck, you pushed his face away from your skin.
“Ok. New rule. No marks beyond the cleavage. I’m serious, don’t laugh! Spring is coming and I can’t walk around looking like I just got mauled.” You told him.
“Sure you can. And when you do and I see you I can remember how you milked me dry and everyone knows you’re spoken for.” Adam tried to sound convincing, he was, but you don’t want to die of a heat stroke just because Adam has some weird issues going on.
You simple glared at him, reaching out and tugging at his nipple piercing roughly.
“Ouch! Fucking bitch. Okay, okay. Got it.” He grumbled out, but he started smirking again, which was never good, “Doesn’t mean you can’t leave marks on me tho, baby. Equality and all that shit.”
Dragging him down by his nape, you tugged at his hair while frenching him. Why is he so dreamy? Or more like what’s wrong with you? Doesn’t really matter in the great scheme of things. This whole thing is to casually have fun. Totally casual. Yeah.
Adam spread your legs apart slightly, rubbing at your pussy with his finger, he slowly slipped one finger in and then the other. Pumping his fingers in and out of you, he was mumbling stuff you didn’t quite catch. Something about prepping you properly. Thank god for that because otherwise he would split you apart.
Slipping in the third and final finger, he curled them up, causing you to moan Adam’s name like a prayer. Maybe you are praying to him.
Feeling Adam remove his fingers made you whine out for him. Yeah you really need dom lessons from him, a bit of pleasure and you’re brain dead. That’s embarrassing, low-key.
Settling between your legs, Adam rubbed the tip of his cock against your clit.
“Ugh, prettiest pussy on the whole campus. Believe me, slut.” He whispered to himself.
Sometimes you wonder how much Adam is aware of the fact that you can hear basically his inner monologue. Maybe it’s best if he doesn’t know it.
Slowly slipping into your warm, wet hole Adam groaned at the feeling of you enveloping him completely. Some sick, locked away part of him is happy that you didn’t mention condoms.
Adam started to slowly rock your hips together, the pressure was building up in your abdomen. Reaching under your thighs, Adam pressed them towards your chest, reminding you off a pretzel. He reached even more sensitive spots inside you with that angle.
Seeing and hearing you be so satisfied made him pick up the pace.
“..Ya know what this position is called?..Fuck!..It’s..Ah..Called mating press, baby….You wanna be..ugh.. my little breeding mate? Huh?” Adam grunted out.
Shit, his dick piercing was rubbing against your walls. Fuck, Adam has been barley inside of you for 10 minutes and you already feel like exploding. At least Adam also looks like he’s going to bust any minute.
Man, and he hasn’t even touched your clit. He has an incredible effect on you. Well, more like on your pussy. You never thought pregnancy was hot till now. You literally let the guy spit in your mouth.
Scratching up his back, you decided to make him regret saying that you could mark him up as much as you pleased. Fucker. Your lips searched for Adam’s skin, you dragged his face towards yours. You kissed the side of his mouth, he tried to catch your lips into his, but you moved on.
Lips crashed into his cheek and chin and nose, till you finally found his neck. You made sure to kiss, suck and lick as hard as possible. Everywhere you could. Adam groaned straight up in your ear.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Want to mark me up, heh. Show everyone who I belong to? Shit.” Adam grasped at your hips to keep you still, to fuck into you.
“Love when you do that. When you hit that spoo-Ah- spot!” You called out to Adam, to spur him on. To have him fuck your harder. You felt juices run down your thighs.
“Oh yeah?..Tell me what else you love?” He groaned out.
“Adam! Right there, please. I..Uhh…Love your dick…?” It was more a question than a statement.
“Fuck. I’ll take it.” Adam kept up his pace, and you felt your toes curling, your legs tensing up, while you locked your ankles behind Adam’s back, to keep him inside of you.
Your orgasm crashed over you, like an electric shook cursing through your body. Feeling you clench around him, Adam couldn’t keep up much longer and he came inside you.
The sensation of having Adam’s hard dick pulse inside you, while his hot seed is spilling inside you made you sob out at the overstimulating feeling.
Adam rubbed his big, warm hands over sweaty body in a soothing manner. What a man.
While Adam was kissing your cheek, chin and nose, you felt your heartbeat slow down. Reaching around blindly, you fished out your pyjama shirt and slipped it over your head. Adam’s eyes never left your form and neither did his hands.
He put on his underwear, to then pull you into his arms, being the big spoon. You were already half gone, cuddled into the blanket with Adam.
With Adam it felt like, he was born to be domestic and monogamous but forced to frat and fuck around.
You couldn’t spare more energy on that thought, since you were already drifting off.
———————————————
Waking up in Adam’s bed, with Adam’s arms loosely wrapped around you felt surreal. Light was peaking out of the curtains. You had no clue what time it was. It felt like morning. Was it morning?
You had to take your medication. You really didn’t want Adam to know you’re on meds. That’s really non of his business. You don’t even want it to be your business, to be honest. Rummaging through your bag like a crazy woman would very much wake him up. You had to find the bath.
Slowly and carefully getting up, you crawled out of Adam’s alaskan king size bed. Jesus his bed was nearly as big as your whole apartment. Adam was a big guy, though. He does need a big bed. Imagine him squeezing him in your bed made you smile, but also made your neck ache for him.
You took your bag, which was ungracefully put besides Adam’s closet, and walked into the living room. Where was the bathroom? Looking at the choice of 3 doors, one obviously the front door, the other two where a mystery. Adam’s apartment had an open concept, so you saw that one of the doors isn’t the kitchen door, since you could directly look into it.
Deciding to just open the door closest to you, you were happy to see that it was the bathroom. The other must be like a guest room, or a storage space. Or whatever.
Gently closing the door behind you, you started searching for your pill bottle in your bag. You ended up spilling out your whole bag on the bathroom floor to find that stupid thing. Taking out your doses, you placed the pill under your tongue and started up the sink to gather some water in your hand. Swallowing everything, you closed the tap.
Feeling Adam’s cum run down your thigh made you cringe. Should you shower? Would he be mad if you used his shower? What the fuck why would he get mad at you for using his shower, that guy cums inside you now regularly. You have to get your shit together.
Before you could take your shirt off, you heard a door slam and Adam yelling,
“What the fuck! That fucking cunt! Where fucking-“ You heard him put on his clothes outside the door.
Carefully opening the bathroom door, you made awkward eye contact with a half dressed Adam. A beat of silence passed.
“..Are you good?” You decided to ask him.
His breathing was calming down, and he rubbed a hand over his face. He avoided eye contact with you.
“Yeah, totally. I…I have this, like, crazy neighbour, you know?” He tried to weasel his way out of the conversation.
“Adam, I think you might be the crazy neighbour.” You simply told him.
His head whipped towards you, he glared at you, stepping closer to you and pointing a finger at you, “Alright, listen here you-“
Before he could continue his sentence, you hooked your own pointer finger against his.
“Wanna take a shower with me?” You looked up to him, with hopeful eyes. You tugged him towards you, with your intervened fingers.
By simply looking at him, you knew Adam was losing the resolve he had to be mad at you. Thank god.
Adam took off his wrinkly shirt, throwing it into the abyss. Same with his other cloth articles. All you had to do was take off your shirt. While you stepped into the shower, Adam’s eyes wandered across your spilled out bag items.
You were playing around with the water settings and temperature when you felt Adam wrap his arms across your stomach. You leaned back against his soft stomach and broad chest. Once you were satisfied with everything you ducked under the water, feeling the warm water envelope you made your muscles relax.
When you looked around, you weren’t surprised to see a 1 in 3 shampoo bottle. Once you made sure that your hair was soaked properly, you tried to reach out for the bottle but Adam was faster than you.
He spun you around so you were facing him and he then squirted a generous amount of soap into his hand. He massaged the soap gently into your hair, then he moved on to your body. He threw away any chastity he tried to keep up, his hands were massaging your tits. His lips meet your own, and he bit his teeth into them. You couldn’t suppress the moan leaving your mouth.
He moved his hands towards your hips, dragging your crotch towards his already harding dick. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.
Adam helped you rins off the soap from your hair and body, he kept leaving kisses on your face and neck while doing so. He turned you so his body was shielding you from the water. Damn his height and build.
With his hands on your shoulders he lightly pushed you down on your knees. So, here you were kneeling down in front of Adam. His totally not intimidating dick hang before you, thick and heavy.
You have heard the term breeder balls, and you never really had an image in your mind till you saw Adam. Looking up at him, you saw him smirk down at you. Grasping your cheeks into his hand, he squeezed your lips apart.
“Wanna please daddy? Suck my dick real good?” Adam told you with a shark like grin.
You swallowed down the extra spit collecting in your mouth, Adam just mad you nervous. Made your stomach flutter and your thighs clench.
Reaching out your hand, you started to slowly wrap your fingers around Adam’s cock. Your fingers barley met, and you started stroking him back and forth. Your thumb rubbed over his tip, the pre cum was collecting rapidly. Adam’s hand went to your head, he was pushing away your hair from your face.
“You teasin’ me?” Adam mumbled out. He tugged at your hair in a threatening manner.
Taking his dick in his own hand, he lightly slapped your cheek with it.
“How about you clean my dick for me? Open up wiiiiiiide.” Man, you didn’t even need to look at him to see the wide grin in his face.
Opening your mouth and sticking out your tongue, you let Adam rub his tip against your tongue. The salty and slightly bitter taste of his pre cum hit your taste buds. It could be worse, for sure.
Adam eased his dick into your mouth, with every shallow trust he put more and more and more down your throat. You tried to breath through your nose, tried to steady yourself. He didn’t bother letting you set the pace, simply starring into your face to gauge your reactions, to not push you too far.
Your hands rested on his bulky thighs, your nails digging into skin and hair. You kept your lips over your teeth, to not hurt him. Using your tongue to massage his dick as best as possible, you also hollowed out your cheeks, to suck him properly in.
“Such a pretty face, would be a waist to fuck you any way where I can’t see it. You want me to cum down your throat? Sure you do, all the bitches love that.” Maybe you should bit his dick. Fucker.
Adam, head pusher, Godfree thrusted his dick further and further down your throat. His pace was getting faster and rougher. Just how he was with your pussy. An especially deep push made you choke and gag. You pushed yourself off Adam’s dick, to catch your breath and not to throw upon his dick. That would be embarrassing.
He petted your hair gently, while waiting for you, “..Why did you take your bag with you?” He quietly asked you.
“..Uhh..I..wanted to get..just dressed.” Man you’re a bad liar.
Adam pinched your cheek with his fingers, it bordered on painful. He just starred down at you. Usually you could easily read him, he was very expressive and voiced any kind of emotion he’s going through. Verbally and nonverbally. This time tho, his face was blank. The usual pleasant nervous you felt around Adam turned into dread.
He simply hummed at you, pushing your head towards his dick. You took him back into your mouth. He returned towards his rough pace, making you choke slightly but this time you recovered quicker.
“ ‘m gonna cum down your little throat.” Was the only warning you got, before Adam held your head still to fuck into your mouth. Feeling him cum down your throat was sure an experience.
Adam, because he’s an asshole, decided to pinch your nose, to keep you from breathing. It was only for a few seconds, but it was enough to push yourself off him once he was gone and to
take in air greedily. Motherfucker.
Leaning towards him, you bit into his thigh. As hard as you could. Usually when you bit him you try to mind your teeth, this time you hoped he bled.
With a painful yelp Adam quickly pulled you off of him.
“Why the fuck did you do that?!” He angrily asked you.
“Why fucking choke me, dumbass?” You asked back with the same energy.
“Babe, what’s the big deal? I can promise you, if you sat on my face and choked me? I would cum in my pants. Straight up.”
“Fuck off.”
Roughly grasping your jaw into his hand, he was seething and it was a borderline painful sensation.
“Why take your fucking bag with you?”
Shaking him off you, you rubbed at your jaw,
“That’s non of your business.” You hissed out at him.
You saw Adam’s tongue poke his cheek, a bitter smile forming on his lips.
“Yeah, right.” Adam grasped you under your arms, picking you up. For a second he simple held you up like a rag doll. You felt small and helpless, you hated that. With a hand on your shoulder he forced you out of the shower, into the cold air. Adam picked up a bathing rob and put it on you.
And even though he was clearly pissed off at you, he was still careful when dressing you. He draped a towel over your head, he then grasped your arm and threw you out of the bathroom, he locked the door once you were out.
What the hell?
Wait.
“Adam! Give me my fucking bag!” You hammered a fist against the door.
“Whaaat? Sorry, baby, I can’t hear youuuuu.” He turned the shower up more to drown out the sound of you cursing him out.
There’s no use in yelling at Adam, you knew that. Stomping towards his bedroom, you threw yourself into the soft bed. Sitting up, you looked around. Seeing a clock at the bed site table showed you it’s roughly 6:30 AM. Damn. No wonder you felt so tired. Ah, your phone was on there too. You didn’t see it in your bag, you thought it would be by the closet. Dropping out of your messy bag. Adam probably put it there.
Picking it up you simply looked through your notifications. Nothing exciting was going on. You should probably just sleep. Putting in a reasonable alarm, and putting it back on the little table, you cuddled up under Adam’s soft blanket. Everything smelled like him. That was nice.
Before you fully drifted off, you heard the bathroom door unlock. You sat up properly, to see Adam enter the room. It seemed like he calmed down. Couldn’t be you. He put down your packed bag back near the closet. Ugh.
“Ever heard of privacy and boundaries?”
“Naw, don’t believe in that bullshit.”
Yeah, you could fucking tell.
Adam sat down at the edge of the bed, looking at you with a look you couldn’t quite place. He was scratching at the stubbles at his chin.
“..I don’t give a fuck if you’re on meds. If that’s why you were acting so fucking shifty.”
“I don’t care about your opinion! I care if I have to take that shit! And believe me, I genuinely wish I didn’t need it. I’d rather just…be normal and fit in.” Your voice got smaller at the end. You want nothing more than to fit in.
Adam sighed, “..Well, how were your shitty little friends supposed to find you, if you were like everyone else?” He grasped your neck gently and your foreheads touched each other while you gazed into each others eyes, “..How would I have found you if you didn’t stand out?”
You felt your eyelashes get wet, tears gathering in your eye. Damn. Okay.
You sniffed and rubbed the water from your eyes.
“…Let’s sleep.”
Adam grunted in agreement. Lots of excitement for one morning. Laying back down, you felt Adam’s arms wrap around you once again.
And when you woke up a few hours later, Adam had a tight grip on you and had you pressed against the wall. So you couldn’t escape this time.
204 notes · View notes
okkotsuus · 1 year
Note
Hello, I like what you write, could you do a scenario of Isagi, Rin, Reo and Chigiri as your boyfriend reacting when your ex wants you back?Thank you😊
ex encounters (bllk pt.1) !
Tumblr media
you got me blushing anon <3
features: yoichi i. rin i. reo m. hyoma c.
content: bad exes. ig hurt comfort. they're adults. 1.8k words
tw for the exes: toxic relationship, cheating, gas lighting, narcissism, wrist grabbing, being physically imposing, acusations
pt.2 — pt.3 — pt.4
Tumblr media
isagi gets a little insecure but it all goes away when he sees how you look at him versus how you look at your ex, then he gets a little prideful.
you and isagi were getting coffee at your favorite cafe when someone tapped you on the shoulder. isagi had gone to the bathroom so you were all alone, and your rat-ass ex was standing in front of you. the man had cheated on you and had the audacity to try to gaslight you about it, so you promptly dumped him.
but that was about a year ago, you had been with isagi for around nine months. why was he here?
your expression very visibly fell as you looked at him, gaze cold and unbothered. you sipped your coffee while waiting for him to speak.
"baby, please take me back, i'll never do it again. i promise, i miss you so much-" you cut him off by holding your hand up. seeing as his jaw clenched you knew he was still the same person.
"no, not in a million years. besides, i have a boyfriend who actually loves me, and i love him." you watched as he rolled his eyes, looking at the empty seat in front of you, the only evidence of isagi was a plate of cheesecake, which you immediately knew wouldn't be enough.
"don't see him, must not be that great." your lip curled in disgust as you looked behind him to see isagi coming out of the bathroom.
your face lit up as you got up, shoving past the guy to hug him. isagi was confused as he hugged you back. he looked at the guy confused as you looked up at your boyfriend with a pout.
"yoichi, this is the rat." he immediately know who you were talking about, having heard the entire story from you. he nudged you behind him as he glowered at your ex, not amused.
"what're you here for, she's better off without you." the guy flinched, clearly recognizing isagi as japan's number one striker. he mumbled some obscenities before trailing off.
yoichi turned back to you, watching as your hardened gaze follwed your ex until he was out the door. when he was gone your eyes snapped to him, instantly softening and filling with adoration.
all of isagi's insecurities disappeared when he saw such fondness spread across your face. he took your hand and intertwined it with his, bringing them up to press a kiss to your knuckles.
"y'don't need to worry sunshine, i'll keep scarin' him away."
Tumblr media
rinnie is unbothered, if anything he's annoyed that you dated such a lukewarm, immature, imbecilic, tepid, moronic... okay, maybe he's a little jealous.
rin had gone to order your food while you sat in the booth of your favorite dinner. sipping your drink as you idly tapped on your phone while waiting for your beloved boyfriend to come back.
"yo, y/n? that you?" you heard his voice from a few feet away, your heart dropping. your ex, your first boyfriend, your only boyfriend before rin. why was he here? you moved away from university and broke up with him after finding out he was talking to other girls while you were gone. then, in your despair, you met rin. honestly, he was the reason you even had rin, so a part of you was faintly grateful.
you turned and saw him, he looked the exact same. maybe his hair was a little shorter and his features had sharpened, but he was the same boy that broke your heart. you felt a familiar sting behind your eyes as he walked to you, smiling as if he didn't make you bawl your eyes out on a bench in the rain.
"you look great, how's uni? you still trying to do sports med?" you just nodded while muttering out that university was good.
the conversation was very one-sided as he tried to catch-up while you gave one or two word responses.
"i know yer probably not happy t'see me. but i just wanted to ask if i could have another chance. i've really worked on myself these last two years, and i just miss you so much..." he trailed off and you felt your heart stop. there was no way, no actual way this was happening. you wanted to cry, scream, and hit him all at he same time.
you opened your mouth to speak but were cut off by a monotone, baritone sound that grounded you. "you're lukewarm, stop talking to them.”
rin. rin itoshi, your wonderful boyfriend, yet again he saves the day. your ex spun around angrily, before visibly flinching as rin towered over him.
"aren't you r-rin itoshi?" his tone was meek as he looked at you, in shock. he didn't believe that you knew a soccer powerhouse like this. right, you had forgotten. your ex played soccer an dreamed of going pro one day, unfortunately he wasn't good enough. you felt a bitter grin cross your face, he wasn't as good as rin; at soccer, or at winning your heart.
"yeah, and i'm their boyfriend. so piss off" rin's jaw was tight as he shoved past, leaning down to press a kiss to the crown of your head. rin knew who he was. rin had met you while you were crying over him, so this was incredibly important for him to instate his dominance.
your ex pathetically stalked away, very clearly crushed. rin sat down across from you and rest his chin on his hand. his eyes looked on you and were happy to see that your despondence was gone, replaced with love for him.
"he's pathetic, guess your standards went sky-high when you met me".
Tumblr media
reo just pulls out his black card and shows it to the dude with an arm wrapped around your shoulders, he isn't very threatened, not in a way he needs to let you see.
you were waiting for reo in the lobby of the mikage corporation building. you were supposed to go out for lunch but he got held up by something that needed to be done, so you were sitting in the lobby waiting. the last place you planned to see your ex was in the company your boyfriend was the president of.
"y/n, how strange to see you here." the hairs on your neck straightened as you turned to see your ex. he was terrible. a narcissist who constantly berated you on the slightest flaw, who blamed everything on you.
you blinked hoping that it was an illusion, but he was still there. and he was approaching. you stood and were about to leave when he grabbed you by the wrist, keeping you in place.
"this is good, i've been meaning to talk to you, but it seems my texts and calls aren't going through..." you shivered as you tugged your wrist from him, holding it close to your chest as you looked away.
he just continued, gaze drilling you further and further into the spot. "y'know you need me, can't do anything on your own. so let's just get back together."
you furiously shook your head, unable to speak. but when he just lurched further forwards you felt your heart stop, calling the only thing that came to mind.
"REO!!" your ex just laughed at you, but he was yanked back as you saw a familiar head of violet hair. your ex shouted as you huddled behind the suited back of your boyfriend, reo mikage.
"who the hell do you think you are?!" your ex was pissed as reo scoffed, shuffling around in his pocket. he then pulled out a black card and showed the man the name on the front.
"i'm reo mikage, president of mikage corporations. consider yourself fired." you watched as your ex fumed, reo shoving his card back into his wallet and holding you around your shoulder.
"I'LL SUE YOU, FOR EVERYTHING YOU ARE!!"
"do it. i have good lawyers, and we have camera and eyewitness evidence of you harassing them." he snapped and security dragged your ex out, he was kicking and screaming all sorts of obscenities.
reo kissed your cheek before hugging you tight, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.
"need to buy you a necklace with my last name on it, or maybe i'll just make it your last name too..."
Tumblr media
if anything he just laughs at you having to deal with your ex, but the second he gets too pushy, chigiri loses his laughs and instead stands by your side glaring at him.
you were on call with chigiri a he drove over to meet you outside your favorite restaurant. he had just hung up to park as you waited patiently for him.
"is that you baby?" you didn't expect to see your ex here, he lived on the other side of japan, you ensured this when you moved very far away from him. he was mean, yelled a lot, the generic asshole ex.
you spun around to see him, stepping back as you just stared. maybe if you don't say anything he'll go away-
"i'm so sorry, please take me back. i promise that i'll be nicer, i miss you so much." he stood in front of you pleading as you winced, very much not wanting to have this conversation.
"erm- no, i can't. i already have a boyfriend." it was then you saw chigiri standing a little further away as he giggled while sending you a smirk. he probably thought this guy was hitting on you, not an ex. chigiri knows you can handle yourself usually, but this was a special situation.
your ex looked at you with his teeth bared, first clenched by his side as he glowered down at you. "so you've already moved on, must've never loved me. probably cheated too..."
you backed up further as he glared at you, suddenly feeling chigiri's comforting presence and smelling his cologne. he had an arm wrapped around your waist as he glared at your ex.
when your ex saw him he stepped back a bit, chigiri was pretty tall. and your ex was all bark no bite. the man just stalked off while chigiri kissed your temple.
"sorry pretty, didn't know that was your ex, he's ugly anyways."
Tumblr media
okkotsuus 23
3K notes · View notes
noraunor · 1 month
Text
Where was the love?
Tumblr media
alastor x reader.
Tw : angst, toxic relationship.
A/n : I'm hungry for angst, and now her with is HEHE
Part one | part two ( final )
𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
Tumblr media
No kisses, no goodmorning's/goodnight's, no hugs, no cuddles, no affection,no I love you's , no nothing. Where was the love?
Was there any love in this marriage?
Alastor, the man you've married a couple of years ago on your early 30's. You're now on your late 30's while he's on his early 40's, so in around 10 years of your marriage, not once a single a affection nor I love you's have exchanged. Well you have once tried to initiate it, but the man refuses to give it back.
Just after your marriage, both you and your husband stayed near the Bayou to spend your honeymoon in. Knowing alastor is a famous radio host, money was never a problem especially renting or buying a place.
You with a beating and giddy heart thought that the both of you would spend a very special and romantic night, but your little dreams and imagines were brutally crushed when alastor dismissed you for the whole night just for him to go out and coming home very late.
You were very heart broken, but you dismissed it and let it be since you don't want the first day of your marriage would be full of arguments. The next day, he didn't even acknowledge what he did and just proceeded to start his day like you were not even there. Sure he'd made breakfast for the two of you, but the lad would always be having his breakfast alone, even at night. Never once both of you have shared meals together in fact, the both for you never first things together.
You were very confused, what did you do wrong for him to treat you in such way? This was not the alastor you married.
This was not the alastor you've fallen in love with. What had change?
You talked about this to only friend, mimzy, the woman was also baffled with your husbands actions. But the woman just told you to " shrug it off because al was never one for affection and love, being new to this must made him quite overwhelmed. " so you took her word and took things slow for him and his liking.
But 3 years have passed. Not a thing changed, you were like a nobody to him.
You were getting very frustrated and hurt. So you decided to confront your husband about it, and guess what? It ended up to a heated argument, that was the very first argument the both for you had.
The lad didn't even apologize not acknowledge you the next day. Being a patient woman and loving wife you are, you dropped your pride and apologized even though you have nothing to apologize for.
And then before you knew it, another years have passed and still not a thing have changed. You've grown tired pursuing him to be affectionate atleast for just a day. You've grown tired with your marriage, sometimes you just wondered to end your relationship with him to make both easier for you and him.
Alastor never have seen you as his equal, he see you nothing more than a pathetic prey to keep.
To him, you're just his good little pet that would obey every single words that would come into his mouth. It's quite entertaining for him to see you getting all giddy and very obedient whenever the show just bits of affection just to get what he wanted.
But in the past years, he did notice your disinterest, but does nothing about it thinking that it was just a phase.
That is until you started going out more often, coming home late, a bright smile on your face. At first he thought that something good just happened to you outside and thing more. That is until he saw the smile you once gave him. But being a stubborn man he is, he shrugged it off.
This kept going on for awhile until he came home and was greeted by an empty house, his brows were knitted but smile still present as he went inside looking for the familiar woman.
" Y/N? " he called.
He looked around the kitchen, living room, backyard, and then your shared room.. There on your nightstand he saw a letter and the ring.
His heart fell as he saw the glimmering gold of the ring that was resting above the letter, alastor took smalls steps towards the letter. As soon as he gets there he took a deep breath before taking the ring into his hand and then took the letter and opened it, his eyes widened inshock as his heart stopped once he saw what was in the letter.
It was a letter about you bidding your goodbyes and how you were tired of him ignoring you and how much tired you are Persuing him and you wanted nothing more to end the marriage to make it easier for the both for you. His heart clenched more once he read further more into the letter when he come to the part where you wrote that you have found another man who actually treated you as a woman, a wife even though the both of you are not married yet but still treated you as someone to cherish, unlike alastor.
He gritted his teeth as he ripped the paper apart, man he was seething... But he also can't help but to be angry with him for letting her slip away from him like that..
Tumblr media
234 notes · View notes
writerblue275 · 6 months
Text
Ranking the Heartsteel members from least to most romantic (with some explanation).
Inspiration: A post from @strawberrydoesthings discussing the fact that (confirmed by Riot via Twitter) Sett is the best cook in the group. Not that I didn’t think Sett could be romantic beforehand, because I ABSOLUTELY thought he could be, but this definitely got me thinking about who in the group being romantic comes easy to.
Genre: Ranking? First time I’m doing this style so we’ll see how it goes!
Category: Fluff
Gender: Gender Neutral Reader
TW: Swearing
Tumblr media
Important context: I fully believe all Heartsteel members have the ability to be romantic for their partners. So even those I rank “lower” could definitely still make your heart flutter. It just might come more naturally for others.
Least
- Ezreal
Ez’s vibe is a little….chaotic? I just can’t see most romantic gestures being a natural everyday thing for him, and definitely not at the beginning of your relationship.
But I do believe that he’d really make an effort for you on special days (birthdays, Valentine’s Day, etc…). It’s clear to me Ezreal is a very passionate person. And when he has an occasion or a person to focus all that passion on, he doesn’t half-ass things (especially when it comes to you).
LOTS of planning and stress though because he doesn’t want to disappoint you. He’d definitely ask the members and Alune for their opinions on things.
The first time he asked for their opinions, everyone stared at him for a few seconds in surprise because they truly weren’t expecting it. Then of course they helped him plan you the best surprise party!
One small romantic gesture I do think Ezreal would be very good at is playing with his partner’s hair (if his partner is cool with that of course). I feel like he needs something for his hands to fidget with at almost all times (fucking mood). He’d love brushing your hair and, if it’s long enough, braiding it.
- Kayn
Kayn is another member who has a bit more of a chaotic vibe. Definitely can’t see him surprising you randomly with your favorite flowers or slipping little notes into your pockets.
BUT!! I do think Kayn’s another member who would really send it on special occasions. Like when this man goes all out, he goes ALL! OUT!
Fully have a headcanon that one of Kayn’s love languages is physical touch (both giving and receiving). So if you’re someone who likes physical contact, this is a way he’ll inject a little romance in day-to-day life.
I’m talking hand holding, arm around your waist, hand in your back pocket while you two are in line, hand on your thigh while he’s driving, or a shoulder massage if you’re really tense (why do I think he’d be so good at those omg). And there’s also another reason he likes to have contact with you at all times.
He’s sweetly very protective of you. Definitely NOT in a toxic way (fuck toxic relationships), but in a “fans of my profession don’t always take the news of a relationship the best. And while I’m not hiding you, I’m definitely not letting anything happen to you,” way. Along with physical contact he’d do things like walk on the sidewalk side closer to the road if you’re walking with him. (Old-school rule I know but I still find it very sweet.)
- Aphelios
I feel like Aphelios hasn’t had a lot of relationships in his past. So it’s not that he’s unromantic, he’s just a bit inexperienced at the start of your relationship.
I don’t think he is necessarily the “big showstopper romantic gesture” kinda guy, but he’ll show tf out for you on special occasions. (Song just for you, anyone? Can you imagine the lyrics he’d come up with? I’m melting! 😩)
The quiet ones are always the most perceptive (#1)! And our man Phel is hyper perceptive when it comes to those he loves. And of course he loves YOU.
He would really excel in the small day-to-day romantic gestures department like sweet good morning and good night texts without fail (and regardless of the time zone he’s in).
Aphelios definitely LOVES how your face lights up when you find the sweet little notes he snuck into your pocket or bag. And how delighted you get when he randomly brings home your favorite takeout for dinner. And when you sent him a text thanking him for the beautiful bouquet of your favorite flowers he had delivered to you? He literally fist pumped and surprised the hell out of Sett.
- K’Sante
(I know he uses the yellow heart on his tweets but TUMBLR doesn’t have that so pink it is.)
I’m gonna start sounding like a god damn broken record, but I get such amazing vibes from Heartsteel K’Sante. He’d be a truly excellent life partner. Great listener, gives great advice when you ask for it, and knows when you just need to vent your frustration out.
Life with him would be safe, but never boring!You know where he’d thrive when it comes to romance? He’d be excellent at spontaneous romantic gestures.
Dancing/kisses in the rain/snow, turning chores around the apartment into a little dance party/jam session (mentioned in my first headcanon), or buying you flowers randomly because they made him think of you, are some things I think K’Sante would truly excel at. His ways of showing romance would be sincere, but fun.
The KING of spontaneous dates. Stuff like driving to the middle of nowhere to star gaze/have snacks or a picnic or driving up to a random out look because he heard the view of the city at night was amazing. (Spoiler alert: It absolutely was.)
I think K’Sante loves spontaneous gestures even more than full out planning things for you. It doesn’t give him a chance to overthink things!
(A/N: Holy shit deciding how to order these final two was WAY WAY harder than I anticipated. I switched them multiple times and honestly I feel like either could go #1.)
- Sett
Please repeat after me because I’ve said it before: “Mama didn’t raise Sett to be a jackass of a partner.” This man has damn good manners. Car door, opened for you. Your seat, pushed in once you’re sat. Walking w/ him on the sidewalk? He’s taking the side closer to the street.
And ESPECIALLY now that we know he’s the best cook in the group?? Oh my god I think soft Domestic!Sett is a go!! Fully believe acts of service (giving) is one of his love languages.
Due to his schedule, it’s very likely he’s out the door before you in the mornings but even then, he’ll always make sure to set up another pot of coffee/hot chocolate/boiling water for tea so that it’s ready for you when you start your day.
Always has a designated date night with you every week. Doesn’t matter if he’s on tour! Discord/FaceTime exists as do watch parties on streaming platforms. Fuck distance, all that matters to him is spending quality time with you in some way.
And I really think he’d be excellent at planning bigger romantic gestures for his partner. He loves you and he has no issues showing that fact off. (Could absolutely see him getting a tattoo that symbolizes you. Especially one that you help him design so it’s even more meaningful.)
- Yone
I don’t care what sort of scowl-y and hard persona Yone presents to the public. With you? That’s your Koala. (Lmao I will die on the hill that he is secretly a cuddle FIEND. Fight a wall.)
He gives me low-key old-school “gentleman” vibes. Always holds the door open and will push your chair in once you’ve sat down at dinner. Will ALWAYS offer an arm for you to hold. Protective (not toxic) of you. And while he’s not scowl-y with you, this is where his public-facing demeanor can come in handy.
*Clears throat* THE QUIET ONES ARE ALWAYS THE MOST PERCEPTIVE (#2)!
Within a month or two of you starting your relationship Yone knows all your favorites. Will gladly surprise you with them at random times, or especially when he senses you need a pick-me-up. Another member who would write love notes and sneak them into places you’ll find them (I feel like he’s heavily involved in lyric writing so this man is a fucking POET).
His favorite way to grandly express his love for you is through music. He has a list of songs that make him think of you and he’s made a whole mix of them. Would surprise you with it and dance with you around the apartment. (Omg slow dancing around the living room with Yone sounds so cute! 🥹) And little do you know but the very last song on the mix is an original he wrote all for you.
Most
As always, thank you so much for reading! I think I might need to do some more of these rankings because this was so much fun to write! I can definitely think of a few other ideas that would fit with this format!
288 notes · View notes
andreas-river · 2 months
Text
NIKTO HEADCANONS (but realistic)
TW: sexual themes, acute dissociative disorder mentioned, this man has definitely been through a lot.
A/N: I don't think I need to say this, but these headcanons are strictly from my perspective. Like many other people here, I enjoy writing for this character, and I have a lot of projects for the future. Anyway, y'all enjoy!
Tumblr media
→ He loves cup noodles. He gives the vibes of eating them because they are quick to make and saves him a lot of time. But he’s skilled in the kitchen. Dmitry once founded him cooking in the kitchen’s base in the middle of the night. A glance from him was enough for Dmitry to turn around and walk away with another secret to hide.
→ He’s friendly only in private and only with his team, and obviously Sputnik. He feels comfortable around them, and he laughs only with them. He doesn’t hang out though. He doesn’t like public spaces at all.
→ Diagnosed with Acute dissociative disorder which may include symptoms of other dissociative disorders including dissociative identity disorder (source). This means that he experienced episodes where he dissociated, but since it’s acute, he had short but severe episodes (no, he’s not out of his mind). In my opinion, he doesn’t take any meds, or he would be discharged from the service. But he probably has periodic sessions with a therapist.
→ Possessing a hyena pet helped him find some balance in his life. For him, it’s like having a common dog, it doesn’t make any difference for him. He always finds it amusing when he uses him to scare Rodion, making him scream like a teenager. That’s how he discovered that Rodion doesn’t like anything that resembles a dog, even if Sputnik is a hyena. And he obviously uses this knowledge to his advantage.
→ He is neither hyposexual nor hypersexual (no, he’s not a pervert either). He actually has a normal relationship with sex and all the things that comes with. He doesn’t like sex without feelings. But if it needs it, he definitely jerks off at night.
→ He prioritize trust above everything, if he’s interested in someone. It will probably take him months to trust someone. Definitely a lot of trust issues, he’s really careful when he meet someone new.
→ Definitely not a religious person. He went through so much in his life that he’s more of a ‘realist’ person. He doesn’t think that there is a god, at all.
→ With the right person, he can be very protective: he has the ‘scary dog privilege’, and no one would definitely mess around with a masked big guy all dressed in black (most of the times).
→ He’s a reserved person and he appreciate the silence, especially if someone respect his own silence. Conversations with him can lead to a whole bunch of different topics at a deep level, and he loves when someone actually understand what he’s saying. He has a lot of knowledge and he used to read a lot of books, especially when he was a teen, and even more growing up and when he was recovering from his trauma. He still reads, and when he isn’t going to be deployed in a short time, he reads a lot during the night.
→ His trauma led him to a lot of insomnia, and a lot of nightmares when he actually manage to fall asleep. So, he usually goes for a walk, or he goes training, trying to take his mind off things.
→ Panic attacks are an occurrence, but he learned to acknowledge the symptoms even before it happens. He usually walks back to his room, finding the silence the thing that calms him the most. When he can’t go back to his room, the rest of the team usually has his back, and always managing to work something out. Every time they find a different solution, and that’s what helps him.
→ No one knows his past (and maybe it's better this way). Only Kamarov knows that he had to endure some bad shit back when he was a teenager. I can imagine living his years with her babushka before enlisting in the military. He doesn’t care about his parents since he lived in a toxic environment. Definitely doesn’t talk about it at all.
180 notes · View notes
melminli · 3 months
Text
Poison Paradise
pairing: hazbin hotel x fem. reader
summery - the gang finds out about one of your past relationships, which was kinda - well, actually really bad. you weren't proud that it happened either, but it did, and you couldn't really change that fact. no matter how much you wanted to.
word count: 1.5k
contains: alcohol consumption, toxic relationships, crack, (tw: val), cursing, strong language, sinner reader, sexual themes, demon horniness
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Angel Dust felt his way through the liquor cabinet at the bar with all the arms at his disposal, looking for more stuff, stronger stuff - he wasn't necessarily picky, to be honest. The only thing that mattered was that it would make him feel numb. He had already put a good collection of bottles on the counter, and it was a large pile of different stuff. Though, he doubted if any amount of alcohol would be enough today. Fuck it, maybe all of Hell didn't even have enough alcohol for him because after today, Angel believed anything to be possible.
"Get the fuck out of my bar." Husker finally grumbled as he spotted the intruder in his area. "You sit. I make drinks." He said and shoved his emotional figure out by force. He really didn't want to listen to any of his whining right now.
A loud groan was heard in response, one that epitomized Angel's agony. "One fuckin' drink won't be enough this time." He moaned as if he was in pain and draped himself over a bar stool before grabbing one of the bottles he had placed on the counter earlier. He drank the whole thing without looking at the label. "I don't even think all the damn drinks in Hell could fill this horrible feelin' in the deepest parts of my heart." He said, wiping away the liquid that had spilled from the corner of his mouth. He was about to take another bottle, but Husker took it away before it could get anywhere near his mouth.
The cat demon furrowed his eyebrows. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Did you have to fuck an ugly guy at work or something?" He asked him, but that didn't quite seem to be it from Angel's reaction. "Two ugly guys?"
The famous porn star finally looked up with his face. "I wish! If I had to fuck a hundred ugly guys to undo what I've heard, I would!"
Well, maybe he would do it regardless, since it wasn't really in his hands and that was his fucking job, but that wasn't the point right now.
The two girls were just arriving in the main hall when they heard the commotion. Charlie looked a little worried at what Angel was saying. "What did you hear?" She asked, also out of mild curiosity.
At the question, he draped himself dramatically over the bar stool again, as if the mere memory of it was enough to make him nauseous. "I don't even wanna say it out loud. Makes me wanna puke just thinkin' 'bout it."
Every pair of eyes in the room looked around a little confused, but no one really seemed to have a clue what was going on. Vaggie looked to the bartender. "What the hell is wrong with him." She asked with interest but only got a shrug in response.
Several minutes passed as the people in the room busied themselves trying to figure out what seemed to be upsetting poor Angels Dust. Though, It was more Charlie who took on this task, while the other two watched quietly, and Niffty tried to spear a bug with a fork in some corner. Neither of them was really successful at what they were doing.
So since everyone was kind of busy with something else, no one really noticed at first when you came through the door. That was until you spoke up. "Oh, hello, guys. Did I miss today's activity? Damn it, that's such a shame!" You tried to say in a very disappointed manner, with the worst acting skills in history.
You had to end the act somewhat abruptly though, when Angel Dust suddenly pointed an accusing finger at you and yelled out, "Ya and Val were fuckin' each other!" He threw the accusation at you, which to be honest wasn't really that much of a surprise to any one. After all, this was Hell we were talking about, people were fucking each other all the time and we were here talking about the Valentino.
Angel himself realized his mistake. "Well, that's actually not that bad." He mumbled, trying not to sound like a hypocrite. Then he stood from his position and pointed his index finger accusingly at you again. "Ya and that freak were in a lovin', committed relationship!"
Everyone's mouths dropped open and for a few seconds nothing could be heard except the coughing of Husker as he tried to stop himself from choking on his drink.
You looked around the room, slightly on display, not really sure what to say. "Uhhh..." you stuttered, trying to get something out. "...who's Val? I mean seriously, never heard of the guy." You laughed out, sweating.
The cat demon waved his hand in disinterest at what you were saying since you were just bullshitting. "You were dating that evil porn director of the Vees?" He asked disbelievingly. "Is that even possible? I bet that fucker can't even stay committed to a brand of soap."
You looked to the side, slightly ashamed. "Well, he wasn't the evil porn diractor of the Vees when I was dating him." You assured them and then added. "Besides, underneath all that fur is a really nice guy who can be really sweet sometimes!" You shouted out and saw how no one really believed your words, and you couldn't really blame them since you didn't even do it yourself. You tried only telling half the truth, and that didn't seem to work out, so you finally gave up. "Okay, fine. The relationship was toxic as shit and made me want to kill myself. It's not my proudest work. Are you happy now?"
Vaggie looked a little confused. Because what you said and what Angel said didn't really seem to match up. Yours sounded more accurate. "That sounds more like that Val guy."
You shrugged your shoulders and laughed. "Yeah, I really have no idea where you picked that up, Angel." You said, tapping him on the chest. "But I can assure you that it was anything but loving and committed, trust me. You of all people should know best."
Of course he did. When Angel heard about how you and the guy who held him on a leash (in a non-kinky way) were a thing he felt a little betrayed, but it seems like Val also wasn't the best thing that happened to you. "Of course I do, I just didn't think ya did, too." He admitted, leaning a little closer to you. "I still can not believe that this guy was in any kind of relationship, if I'm being honest. I mean, how could ya even convince him to do that?"
You blinked a couple of times. "I didn't have to. He asked me to be his girlfriend." You saw the others look shocked again, and even the two who always had a very uninterested attitude towards most things seemed to want to know more. "I know! I was also really surprised when he did it, I mean it's...Val."
With all the stuff she'd heard so far, Charlie couldn't help but look a little disappointed. "Why did you even get involved with him in the first place if you knew he was bad news?"
You avoided looking at anyone. "Well, I wasn't lying before. He could be nice, sometimes even more than that." You whispered as you thought back to that time. "But most of the time, he wasn't. And he kept promising me that he would change, but that never really lasted for long, so yeah..." you said, shrugging your shoulders like it was nothing. "That's why I broke up with him."
Husker's eyebrows drew together suspiciously. "And he just let you?"
When you only gave a hesitant nod in response, Angel's patience burst. "Ya can't just give a half-assed version of the story! I need all the information down to the smallest detail!" He shouted and shook you by the shoulders.
The Princess of Hell and her girlfriend looked a little worried at the scene before them. Charlie finally spoke up and tried to be the voice of reason by walking between you two. "Maybe it's a sensitive subject for her. We shouldn't force her to tell something that brings up bad memories, don't you think so, Angel?"
At what she said, his grip on you loosened, giving you a chance to escape to a safe distance. "I'm pretty over it to be honest, but I'm not telling shit to a mean bitch!" You exclaimed and then quickly ran away.
At that, the spider demon immediately ran after you like a bullet out of a gun. "Get over here! I'll pull the information out of yer throat if I have to!"
Oh boy. Charlie had hoped that she could have taught you all a valuable lesson through this situation, but unfortunately, that really didn't go as planned. As if anything did around here. She thought to herself with a slight smile on her face.
144 notes · View notes
startaee · 11 months
Text
not an equal.
reo x reader; reader wants to be independent, but reo doesn't see the point of it.
pt.2, a second chance
tws, overworking, slightly toxic relationship, power imbalance.
reblog if you like it!
plsplspls don't let this flop /open to constructive criticism,, just don't be rude!/ if this goes well, ill definitely post the comfort part !!
Tumblr media
“reo you can’t be serious…” you sighed heavily, rubbing the temple of your head. “what, pookie? i missed ya’. and my schedule’s free for the day so-” his cocky smirk was wiped off when you slammed your laptop shut.
“well. news for you, but mine isn't.” you got up from your desk, walking towards him, each step you took, felt heavier.
you were tired. you’d been working for 7 hours straight. not by force, but by choice. there was a promotion coming up and your senior, (and mentor) had hinted that your name might be on the list. you wanted to give your best. which resulted in you overworking yourself for the past week. only ever taking a few breaks to nap and eat. this was only temporary, just till june ended, and you were finally given the higher salary, bigger office and more authority. just like you deserved. 
“woah, what’s up with the attitude?” reo furrowed his eyebrows, slightly raising his hands as a form of defencelessness (?). 
“this is the third time you’ve shown up to my office, reo. and it’s the last time, i tell you to never. ever. do it again.” you said, your eyes bloodshot due to the lack of sleep and the anger you felt at this moment. sure, he missed you. you missed him too, but this promotion was something you’d dreamed of for years now. you were so close and wanted to make sure everything was perfect. however, your boyfriend showing up to work three times in the same week wasn’t going to impress your higher-ups.
“hey, don’t snap at me, alright? this is the most of you i’ve seen all week!” he raised his voice, pointing at you accusingly. that’s when it hit you. you were arguing with a man-child. no, it wasn’t funny anymore. he’d been served everything on a golden platter since the time he was born. sure, he works hard now, but he’d have never made it so far if it wasn’t for the fact that he was born into the right family. you took a deep breath, turning to face a wall, because you couldn’t stand to see him right now.
then you remembered, and you felt your anger rise back. “yeah, well, what about the times you went to the US for up to two weeks?” your head snapped back to him, watching his face turn into an amused one as he scoffed. “y/n. sweetie, that’s different.” he smiled, a hand reaching out to cup your face. despite how gentle this must have seemed to the audience peeking into your office from outside, to you, it felt cruel. cruel, humiliating, and offending. feeling tears well up in your eyes once you realized how he saw you, you shut them. your friends, your family, everyone was right.
reo mikage was not on your level. he would never be. and most importantly, he’d never see you, the same way you see him.
“how…” you mumbled. “how…is it different…?” you knew the answer. but you wanted to hear it. just to be sure. 
“darling, c’mon. don’t be like that. you know, my work is, y’know? actually important…” he smiled at you as you blinked your eyes open, biting your lip and nodding. tears slipped down your face, and as his thumb immediately reached out to wipe them, you took a step back. 
“and mine isn’t.” you stated, wanting to laugh at yourself for even telling your friends that your boyfriend, respected you and saw you as an equal. 
“oh, don’t cry, y/n. want me to talk to your boss? i could make things much easier if ya let me.” he raised his eyebrows, sending you his signature smile as he walked closer to you.
your face felt cold. you felt tired and betrayed and sleepy and pathetic. “reo?” you said, turning your back to him as you made your way back to your desk. wiping your own tears, you made a decision. a decision that you wouldn’t regret, but would certainly make him think about his actions for months. 
“we should break up.”
446 notes · View notes
the-grimm-writer · 11 months
Text
Toxic
You thought you knew what you were getting into when you got into a relationship with Keisuke. Turns out you didn’t know him as well as you thought you did. 
Commission for my lovely friend Sheer!!
Tw: Typical canon violence, forced relationship, biting, Baji and all his friends are a bunch of bullies.
Everyone is 20+
Tumblr media
You thought you knew what you were getting into when you agreed to be Keisuke’s woman. The life he lived was a fast one and he had sold you on it. Late night rides on his motorcycle, clinging onto him so you didn’t fall off whenever he sped up as fast as it would go. Running and hiding from the police, your heart pumping in your chest as you wildly kiss one another after almost getting caught. Getting into fights with rival gang members. It wasn’t often that you’d have to fight yourself, but whenever you did, he would swear it was the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 
What you weren’t prepared for was the man himself. Despite the life he lived you often forget that Keisuke Baji was dangerous, a red flag wrapped up in a pretty package. He enjoyed violence more than the average person. You learned that the hard way when he started swinging on a man for “looking at you the wrong way.” 
No matter how many times you told him to stop and he swore he’d never do it again, it still continued. You’d reached your wits end when he took you to his meetings. 
An underling, someone who must have just joined, made the mistake of sauntering over to you. He was barely able to get the cheesy pick up line out when he was yanked back by the collar and slammed into the ground. 
The leaders didn't seem to mind, just staring at him with a bored expression as you backed away in horror. Baji was on top of the guy, hitting him until his knuckles were bloody. 
You looked around in shock but nobody else was batting an eye. You shook your head, disappointed, you were about to leave when one woman pulled you back. “Don’t do that.” She whispered in your ear, putting her hand on your shoulder. “It will only make it worse.” 
Just like your man, many of the other gang members liked to show off their women at the meetings. When you weren't sitting on Baji's lap, you were talking to them. It was the only sense of normalcy you got since you began dating him. 
Even with his wild brown eyes and sharp fanged teeth, he managed to charm everyone around you. You couldn’t exactly blame them, you fell for it when you first met him too. All your friends thought he was the perfect boyfriend and didn't mind how much time you spent with him, often encouraging you too. 
Baji had a strict mother, so when he truly wanted to, he knew how to make a good impression on parents, make them believe he was the best match for their little girl. 
Your arguments increased after that night. About whether you'd continue to go with him to meetings or not. Now it was time for another one, and you were standing in your room glaring at each other. 
“That’s it! Im not going to your stupid meetings anymore! We are over!” You yelled at him. “I’m breaking up with y-” 
His hand was wrapped around your throat before you could finish your sentence. “You are getting dressed and we are going to that meeting, do you understand?” You stayed silent, glaring up at him. His hold on your throat tightened when you tried to push him away. “I said. Do. You. Understand?” 
Realizing it wasn’t worth the fight, you begrudgingly nodded your head. “Good girl.” He smirked, leaning down and pressing a kiss on your lips. “Get dressed. 
He paraded you around like a trophy. It was something you hadn’t realized at first. Often he made you wear his jacket with the gang’s symbol on it. You used to think that it was because he didn’t want you to get cold, but now you know he only did it because he wanted everyone to know that he had a claim on you. 
This time, Baji refused to let you leave his side. As you walked past the other women, all you could do was share sympathetic looks. When he sat down, you immediately got on his lap. 
You took a shaky breath and leaned against him, his arm lazily draped around your waist. On the outside, you looked normal. Like you hadn’t tried breaking up with him earlier. 
Not that his friends cared, you thought begrudgingly. They wouldn't betray their friend for you. Then there was the worst of them all. His best friend and the leader of the gang. 
“Well, aren't you a cute couple?” Mikey teased, making you tense up as Keisuke chuckled. “But I’d keep her at home next time. There’s going to be a lot of dangerous men at this meeting, and we wouldn’t want them getting the wrong impression and try to snatch her up now would we?” You tensed up as you looked at him, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. That asshole, he knew exactly what he was doing. Actually, they all knew what he was doing. They didn’t care. Hell, some of them even encouraged it right in front of your face like just now. 
Your eyes narrowed at him as Mikey walked off, which of course Keisuke immediately took notice of. 
"Hey." He growled, tone low as he spoke to you. "What did I tell you about the dirty looks? Cut it out. Besides, Mikey's right. Important men will be coming so behave yourself." 
"Oh so it's okay that you beat up anyone who flirts with me but a look is where you draw the line?" Despite your annoyance, you kept your voice down so no one noticed. 
“Do you want me to be like those other guys?” He said softly to you as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, making you gasp when he bit down on your sensitive skin before he pulled away. “You want me to be rough? Want me to fuck you like a little whore in front of everyone?”  
"Fine." You snapped back. "I'll be good." 
So you smiled, being polite every time someone walked over to the both you. Of course you kept your answers short, lord knows how Keisuke would react if he thought you were being too friendly.   
Cold dread washed over you as you realized, even if you weren't a member of the gang you were still stuck in it. 
709 notes · View notes