Intimacy… or more specifically, undressing was an art form of sorts to Dr Ratio. For what is more sacred than stripping back the garments across one’s body? Similar to how one may bare their soul to another… standing opposite them with a look that speaks a quiet, “Take care of me?”
And what is a better answer than the way he’s touching you now?
Ratio’s hands feel warm, huge as they graze their way across the length of your spine and the touch makes you arch, neck twisting to the side as you feel his lips along your throat and the sound that leaves you is so sweetly enticing it makes him groan.
It feels like he looms over you where you both stand, yet he’s still holding you close as his fingertips continue to explore your skin — from your lower back to your hips, tracing forward until he can palm at your waist to squeeze and he’s quite enamoured by your reactions. By the way your lips part to gasp and it’s a sound that he quite hungrily takes between his own as he kisses you again — bringing you close to him as you feel the heat beneath his chest.
“How utterly captivating.” Ratio hums into your mouth as his hands smooth higher, resting just below your ribs as your thighs squeeze together and your arms are around his shoulders next as he breathes into you.
His touch remains warm and despite the way he presents himself there’s a hunger to it that makes you ache.
The moment that he presses his tongue between your lips he’s pulling you closer, deeper as it grazes against your own and it makes his lungs shake as he steps forward into you, until he’s crowding you enough to take a step back and he’s holding you close again. He can only manage an unsteady breath when he feels your chest press tight against his, and his hand is higher now, until he’s cupping at your jaw and he’s forcing himself to pull away to take a deeper inhale, a real breath.
Because despite the type of person that Ratio is, he finds it quite troubling that a taste of you like this can render him to such a state. A mere gentle blink from where your nude figure is pressing against his own and he wants to gather you up into his arms and memorise the parts of your body that you hold most sacred. To cherish it.
So he gives you a gentle look before his thumb is smoothing along your jawline, softly as your lips part again and he exhales,
“Which is precisely why I plan to take my precious time with you.”
on his list of responsibilities, you're always number one.
breaking my silence to return to my number one man ✊ soft fluff and even more fluff! (suggestive, reader only has one goal in mind) (it's like fluffy suggestiveness) (he might be ooc) (wtv)
alhaitham is a man of many responsibilities.
as anyone would expect, there are far more quotas to meet and tasks to finish than he'd like (working as a scribe was already enough and acting as the grand sage certainly isn't helping afterall), but he finds that you make your way to the top of the list every time.
even when he's unconscious.
"alhaitham," your voice drags him groggily out of his slumber, the singsong whisper brushing against his ear as he feels your finger gently prod into his cheek, "are you awake?"
it might be too early to entertain you, but it's never too late to tease you, so he keeps his eyes closed.
"baby," you cup the side of his jaw, gently tilting his head to face your side of the bed; there's a small whine in your tone, a strain in your vocal cords that tugs dangerously at his heart, "you have things to today, and if i'm up, you have to be up too."
your side of the bed shifts further, and you have both of your hands on his face now, practically lying one arm across his chest.
"sleeping a lot can be bad for you, y'know," you continue with that sickeningly soft lilt in your voice, "obesity cases can rise, your body's energy can be depleted, and heart disease—"
he's shared a bed with you enough times to know that if you really wanted to wake him up, you'd use far more effective methods.
...still though, he can't hide the small smile that appears on his face before his arms reach blindly to hug your waist, a bewildered noise escaping your lips as he pulls you closer to his exhausted body.
you feel your face heat up at the surprise attack, your mouth agape all the while your boyfriend not-so-sneakily buries his nose into your shoulder, your fingers sprawled awkwardly against the muscles of his biceps.
"w-wow—okay well that's just rude!" you huff, clearly not mad enough at him to take your hands off of his body, "you're just being mean now!"
he gives you a loud snore in retaliation.
you let out an exaggerated gasp, slapping the edge of his jaw out of protest. if there was ever one thing you've had on him, it's a fiery competitiveness that he's never quite understood, and it's that same fiery competitiveness that builds in your heart as you peer down at your boyfriend's sleeping face, testing him with a quick peck on the tip of his nose.
his eye twitches, and you frown.
how could someone be so pretty pretending to be unconscious?
"....archons," you mumble under your breath, "tighnari would never do this to me."
almost immediately, his eyes open wide.
"excuse me?"
the sun peeks out from behind his sheer curtains; it's light falls on your shoulder, illuminating your bare skin in a soft glow that couldn't possibly resemble the scorching heat of the late mornings that alhaitham is used to waking up to.
"excuse you is right," you glare at him without contempt, "you've deprived your partner of quality time and i won't stand for it."
he makes a noise halfway between a groan and a sigh as his brain does it's best to catch up to your antics, but he's never been a morning person.
"it was a late night at the library," his hands trail absentmindly up to your shoulderblade, "trust me, i wanted to get out of there just as much as you probably did."
"cyno works long nights all the time, and his partner never complains about their time together." you feel his fingers find the slopes and crevices in between the nook between your bones, and you glare again, "especially in bed."
his hands stop. "talking about another man's sex life under our blankets is abhorrent behavior."
"i dare say that witholding your talents from your partner is a worse crime."
he smiles, lying his head back onto his pillow as his muscles grip you again, "you only want me for my body."
"that's not true," you lie on top of his torso, his hands settling comfortably against your lower back. "your money is far more important to me."
he hums in acknowledgement, a chuckle escaping his lips— you dip your head, your warm breath fanning against his shoulder as your ears heat up out of embarrassment.
"besides," you mumble your confession, "i just missed you is all."
i just missed you, is all.
it should be worrying that all it takes is six words leaving your lips for his heart to beat far too fast than it really should be—his mind entertains the idea that the statistics you provided him could be relevant, but he's known the reason why for much longer than the nanoseconds it takes for his neurons to fire.
you've always been there, afterall; with every cell that dies in his body, a new one enters it's place to orbit around you. his skin feels aflame as your fingertips travel from his arms to cup his jaw, blazing up into ashes with the mere ghost of your touch.
you make another joke to lighten the mood, but his body is too busy trying to recuperate any sense of honor and decency that you seem determined to strip away from him.
his cells gravitate towards you, and they burn for you too.
"your lashes are so long, 'haitham," you pout as your fingers brush against his eyelids (his heart flutters just as much as his eyelashes do); his side of the bed shifts as your arm sprawls against his chest and your elbow digs into his shoulderblade, "'m so jealous."
you have no reason to be jealous, not when you look the way you do this early in the morning.
"give me a kiss." his voice barely comes out as a whisper, and he honestly thinks it might've gotten lost within the roaring fire that clamors in his ears, but you hear him all the same.
you look taken aback for a second, but you've always been the type to catch on quickly.
you smile, "no."
"why not?"
"i dunno," your body shifts just a little bit upwards, bringing your nose to brush against his, "kaveh wouldn't be telling me to do all the work."
he vows to get to work late and leave early today as his lips mold themselves onto yours, feeling his worries about the papers he has to sign and the deals he has to make melt away as one of his hands presses against your neck as the other cups your jaw. you smile against his kiss, breaking it to peck him on the cheek.
it's about time he reprioritizes, afterall.
alexis writes for someone that's not gojo??? call the cops fr... (i have four gojo drafts in my wips)
(i personally think that alhaitham gets off on softspoken poetry and validation sue me ✋️✋️ good luck to everyone pulling for him! i will personally be falling off a cliff i lose my 50/50!)
