OHHH, I've been meaning to send you a short imagine that popped up in my head from the Alhaitam posts. But before I could realize, it went from a short paragraph to an actual little drabble. So here it is, I hope it's up to your bullying alhaitam standards™ as THE bullying alhaitam blog.
I wrote all of this on my phone so I apologize before hand for any mistakes but DAMN. I ADORE the idea of bullying entitled and bitchy characters so much it's not funny anymore (it is) because every time i tell my ideas, my friends are just. Flabbergasted. Queue an audible gasp and a "why would you do that to him?"
Well, with Haitam the story writes by itself: He asked for it. Oh, so he's better than everyone else? Different, logical and centred? He's absolutely not like the other academics, of course. Such an admirable and unique individual we have in front of ourselves!
Alhaitam thinks so highly of himself, it's only natural for me to desire to humble him.
I like the idea of playing along with his antics, testing him. He begins a discussion for a matter you don't really care about, but you take his bait anyway. Patiently, you wait for a chance to get closer to him and his frowned face, and before he knows it, one of your hands begins working its way up his chest. His breathing stutters as he tries so hard to keep talking. His mouth goes dry and there's something a bit shaken in his voice—you merely laid your fingertips over his shirt but your touch feels like a thousand sparks flying. Alhaitam can feel the heat in his body as he speaks, going all the way to his face, and even if he lets you push him against the wall, he refuses to adress what's going on.
(What would he even say? He knows he doesn't want you to stop, but he doesn't want to admit it either)
And just when your hand reaches his shoulder and you lean forward, mouth inches away from his, he finally stops speaking, bracing himself for the second your lips brush against his—But that moment never comes. Instead, you stand back and leave with a laugh. “That's all you get. See you next time, oh-Grand-Scribe”
He watches you go, heart beating so hard it may as well jump out of his chest. He feels hot all over his body, and feels shamefully familiar ache forming down, down his torso. The red creeping up his neck now it's not only caused by embarrassment but anger.
How could you do this to him?
You're the worst type of person he's ever encountered—a walking nonsense! Alhaitam has decided long ago that people like you are absolutely not worth his time.
Yet, he has reluctantly held himself in his hand and pumped his cock at night thinking about you, writhing with rage at the way you wake up his desire like nothing and no one ever has. Even if he hates every ounce of the situation you got him in, he continues to betray his logic when he goes looking for you the next day.
You're not alone when he finds you. On the contrary, the other person is so close to you they may as well try to steal your breath, as you help them hold their notes in your hands as you explain them a topic they didn't quite understand. You guide them with gentleness, as you're known for, but the only thing Alhaitam can think about it's the flush on the other person's face, the way they're staring at your mouth and absolutely not listening to your words. He coughs, so your attention goes to him.
“Oh, hello Haitam!” you chirp, so energetic, so happy and unapologetic despite the way you gave him a hard time the day before. “Didn't expect to see you here!”
You're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Helping this student who's obviously not interested in literary theory but looking for a reason to get close to you.
“You shouldn't be giving lessons on a subject you did poorly,” he states. He recalls your face the day the scores were posted, how your confident smile dropped and your mouth formed a perfect 'O'; he's been looking to see that happen again since you began pestering him.
To his displeasure, you laugh. “Yeah, I did have to retake the exam when I failed more than a year ago. You have quite the memory, don't you, Grand Scribe? Good thing I learned from my failure and moved on”
The other person shuffles in their place, slightly uncomfortable, beginning to understand you two aren't talking about linguistics. Good.
“I just remembered I had something else to take care of, thank you and goodbye!”
You wave them off, unbothered, sweet smiles and kind words, “you can come looking for me anytime you need me!”
Then you turn back at him and your nice front drops. “What a way to scare off the students I'm tutoring. You know I need this so the Akademiya approves my investigation, right?”
“They didn't come here for your help.”
“Yeah, but you didn't come here for a tutorship either, did you?”
Alhaitam ears begin to burn a bright red and you notice.
“You know, I said something about learning from my failures. I didn't think I had to give that advice to the Grand Scribe of the Akademiya but…”
Alhaitam breath stutters, and his words come out before he can regret it:
“You were lying when you rejected me.”
Your eyes widen for a second, grin big with teeth and amusement.
“Really? My, I didn't get the memo”
“You're doing this on purpose”
“Why would I?”
“I don't know!” He bursts. “You're nonsensical! You're the most absurd person I have ever met. Always acting like you know something I don't and I know that's impossible! I don't understand how you manage to be so irritating, and annoying, and yet I still can't understand why you, of all people, make me feel—what are you doing?”
Once again, you are moving dangerously close to him.
“Hm, I don't know. Tell me,” you say. Your breath feels hot, all over his neck as you lean over him. “Are you mad because I didn't touch you last time? Poor thing.”
“Don't call me—ah”
“I'm sorry, what?” you blow over the bite you left over his neck, hands moving from his torso to his chest. You wait for him to answer, but it seems that unlike some, Haitam is all bark and no bite.
“That shut you up real quick, huh”
“...I hate you.”
“Don't say it too much, Haitam. It might go straight to my head.”
<3!
ahahahaHAHAHAAAAAAA GO OFFFFFFFF
this is already a long post so i’ll put my deranged ramblings thoughts under the cut <333
i read this like i was watching a football game. full on yelling at my monitor. audible gasps. the pettiness, the backhanded compliments, the CALLBACKS??? like how do i add on to this perfection??
i know what you mean!! my friends think he's so dreamy. i will give them that he's handsome, but like. i think its my god given right to knock some sense into this man. i don't know if it's just because i'm a smartass with a quip ready for anything but humbling a man who would probably say something like "hitherto" with 100% seriousness needs a decent ego-check imo
okay i'll leave you with something small of my own.
late at night, behind closed doors, when nothing but his thoughts and hands can keep him company, your sweet visage won’t leave his mind.
it happens almost every night. most times he can will away these shameful urges. but others, nothing but you laid out, bare in front of him, fills his head.
but a slightly different version of you.
one that finally falls to pieces after hard fought battle that he’s finally gained the upper hand in.
and the spoils?
seeing your normally composed face twist in pleasure, gasping, panting under his gaze. tears cling to eyelashes, threatening to spill as your voice pitches, pleading, begging him to touch you.
i’m sure haitham pictures that pretty little sight more than he’d like to admit.
see? i can let him win once in a while. (in his own head at least)
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