#Kafka hsr | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aventurineswife · 26 days ago

Note

What could possibly trigger their jealousy? how bad can it get? And how will they confront the reader about it? Could be angst, fluff, or suggestive. Up to what you see fit! (march 7th, Kafka, Veritas, Kaveh, Ruan mei, Aventurine.)

“I'm jealous of the way you're happy without me”

Tags: March x Reader, Kafka x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Kaveh x Reader, Ruan Mei x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Jealousy, Emotional Tension, Vulnerability, Romantic Tension, Conflict, Possessiveness, Emotional Struggles.

Warnings: Themes of Jealousy, Possessiveness, Emotional Conflict, Tension In Relationships, Implied Possessive Behavior In Romantic Dynamics, Insecurity.

A/N: My stupid ahh didn't register the req properly into my brain and I ended up writing fics for them 🧍‍♀️... Enjoy!

March was normally the picture of cheerful optimism, but today, something was... off. She had been unusually quiet, fiddling with her camera instead of chatting your ear off about her latest snapshots. You noticed it started when you and Stelle had been laughing together earlier—laughter that felt innocent to you, but apparently not to her.

Later, as you entered the train lounge, you found March sitting cross-legged on the couch, pouting slightly, her camera resting on her lap. Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, a storm of emotions hidden beneath her usual brightness.

“Hey,” she said, forcing a smile. “Had fun with Stelle today?”

You blinked, surprised. “Yeah, she told this ridiculous story—”

“I heard,” she interrupted, her voice tight. “You were laughing so much... Guess it must’ve been really funny.” Her attempt at casualness crumbled under the weight of her emotions.

“March, what’s wrong?”

She sighed dramatically, crossing her arms. “What’s wrong? Nothing! Except, I don’t know, maybe it feels like you’re forgetting about me. I mean, I’m always the one dragging you into adventures, taking cool pictures with you, but now you’re all buddy-buddy with Stelle.” Her voice cracked slightly at the end, betraying how deeply it bothered her.

You knelt in front of her, taking her hands in yours. “March, no one could replace you. I love hanging out with you—your energy, your humor, everything. Stelle’s fun, sure, but she’s not you.”

March’s pout softened, her cheeks flushing. “You really mean that?”

“Of course I do. You’re one of a kind, March. My one and only quirky photographer.”

She chuckled, her mood visibly lifting. “Okay, okay, I guess I got a little... silly there. But don’t forget—next time you’re laughing like that, it better be at one of my jokes.”

It wasn’t easy to rile up Kafka. She was the epitome of cool confidence, always in control. But when she saw you chatting with someone else—a certain Stellaron Hunter who was being just a little too friendly—her usual smirk faltered.

She didn’t confront you right away. Instead, she waited until later, when you were alone in her quarters. Sitting with her legs crossed, her eyes fixed on you with an unsettling intensity, she finally spoke.

“You’ve been quite popular today,” she remarked, her tone light but laced with something darker.

You tilted your head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, come on,” she said, her voice dripping with feigned innocence. “That little tête-à-tête you had earlier? I could practically see the sparks flying.”

Realization dawned. “Kafka, are you... jealous?”

Her smirk returned, though it was sharper this time. “Jealous? Me? Hardly. I just don’t like sharing what’s mine.” She leaned closer, her fingers brushing against your jaw, forcing you to meet her gaze. “You wouldn’t make me feel ignored, would you, darling?”

You swallowed, your heart racing. “Of course not. You’re... kind of impossible to ignore.”

Her smirk softened into something almost tender. “Good answer. But just to make sure you don’t forget...” She leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was both possessive and utterly intoxicating. When she pulled away, her voice was a low murmur. “You belong to me. Don’t forget that.”

For someone as composed and logical as Dr. Ratio, jealousy was an uncharted territory. He prided himself on being above such emotions—until he saw you, laughing and leaning in close with another scholar during one of his lectures.

He didn’t say anything at first, though his eyes burned with an intensity that even his alabaster mask couldn’t hide. It wasn’t until the lecture ended and the others had dispersed that he finally confronted you.

“I couldn’t help but notice your... enthusiasm during today’s discussion,” he said, his tone carefully neutral, though the sharpness in his gaze betrayed him.

You frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Ratio sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Let me put it plainly. I didn’t appreciate how... comfortable you seemed with that imbecile. Their theories are pedestrian at best, yet you treated them as though they were a second Einstein.”

“Ratio, are you jealous?” you asked, more amused than anything.

His eyes narrowed. “Jealous? That’s an absurd accusation. I simply don’t understand why you’d waste your time entertaining someone so beneath you.”

You stepped closer, resting a hand on his arm. “Ratio, you’re overthinking this. I admire you—for your brilliance, your passion, everything. No one else comes close.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, though he still looked conflicted. “I... appreciate that. But I don’t like feeling—” He cut himself off, his frustration evident.

“Vulnerable?” you supplied gently.

He nodded, his pride clearly wrestling with the admission. “Yes. But if you say I have nothing to worry about, then I’ll trust you. Just... don’t make a habit of testing my patience.”

You smiled, standing on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Never. You’re the only genius I have eyes for.”

Kaveh sat at his drafting table, his fingers absently tracing the intricate blueprints for his latest project, but his mind was miles away. It wasn’t the design that occupied his thoughts—it was the image of you, laughing and talking with Alhaitham in the corner of the room. He tried to brush it off as nothing—after all, they were old friends, right? But every laugh you shared, every soft smile you gave him, struck Kaveh’s heart with a sense of sharp, unfamiliar discomfort.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want you to have friends. He knew the importance of connections. But Alhaitham... the way you looked at him, so comfortable and at ease, made Kaveh's stomach twist. He couldn’t ignore the jealousy gnawing at him—how could he, when it felt like his chest was being crushed under the weight of it?

He had always been the idealist, believing in beauty and goodness. But in that moment, watching the two of you exchange something unspoken, something that seemed to bring you both closer, he felt a sting of doubt.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Alhaitham’s voice interrupted Kaveh’s spiraling thoughts. His tone was unreadable, his expression indifferent as usual.

Kaveh forced a smile, though it felt like the most strained thing he had done in days. “Of course. Just working.”

But Alhaitham wasn’t fooled. With a subtle glance at you, he excused himself, leaving Kaveh alone in the room.

Kaveh’s hands tightened into fists. He couldn't push the emotions away any longer. He could only imagine what it might feel like if you turned to him the way you did to Alhaitham. The ache inside his chest deepened.

You’d never seen him so distant. His demeanor had changed. The open warmth that usually defined him had turned to quiet frustration, something unspoken hanging between you.

Finally, after hours of silence, you approached him. "Kaveh," you began softly, "I don't understand. Why have you been avoiding me today?"

He turned to face you, his eyes sharper than usual, an edge of vulnerability flickering within them. “I—” He swallowed. “You were with him. With Alhaitham.”

You blinked, confusion flashing across your face. “What do you mean? He’s my friend.”

Kaveh’s voice wavered despite himself. “I know. But... it’s more than that, isn’t it?” He couldn't stop the words from tumbling out. “I can’t help but wonder if... if you need him more than you need me.” His gaze fell, suddenly feeling the weight of his own words.

You didn’t need to ask how deep it went. Kaveh’s jealousy wasn’t the playful, harmless kind—it was raw and vulnerable, revealing his fears of being discarded, of his care and efforts never being enough.

You moved to his side and gently placed a hand on his arm. "Kaveh, I—" You hesitated, before continuing, "You’re my light, my inspiration, the one who makes my heart race with everything you do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t cherish my friends. You’re not in competition."

For a moment, Kaveh felt a spark of relief—just a flicker, before his insecurities took hold again. “Then why does it feel like I’m losing you?”

With a soft sigh, you cupped his face in your hands. "You haven’t lost me, Kaveh. Not ever."

Kaveh closed his eyes, taking a slow, steadying breath. "I don’t know what I would do without you," he whispered, his vulnerability spilling out as the jealousy melted into something more profound—an admission of how deeply he needed you, how terrified he was of losing what mattered most.

The lab was unusually quiet. The hum of machinery and the soft clicking of data streams filled the room, but something was off. Ruan Mei didn’t need to look up to know what was happening. She could hear it in your voice—the light, teasing tone you had when speaking to Herta, one of her colleagues from the Genius Society.

It wasn’t that Ruan Mei disliked Herta. Far from it. But seeing you so engaged, so at ease with her, stirred something unfamiliar in her. Herta’s loud laugh, her gregarious energy, was so different from Ruan Mei’s cool, methodical presence. She knew she couldn’t compete with that. Yet, why did it bother her so much?

A brief flash of jealousy spread through her, like a cold chill in her chest. She couldn’t explain it—she’d never cared about this before. But somehow, seeing you make Herta laugh, seeing how easily you two interacted, made her feel like an outsider in her own life.

She wasn’t one to show emotions easily, but this... this was something she had never expected. The creeping feeling that perhaps you could find someone more engaging, more dynamic, than the stoic, emotionally distant Ruan Mei. It was suffocating.

She turned her attention back to the data, forcing herself to focus, but her mind kept drifting back to you. And to Herta.

When you finally approached her later that day, her expression remained unreadable, a mask of detachment she had perfected over the years. You didn’t seem to notice the subtle shift in her demeanor.

“Ruan Mei,” you said, softly. “Can we talk?”

Her heart skipped, but she kept her voice neutral. “What is it?”

You hesitated, a knowing look in your eyes. “I noticed... you seemed a little off today. Is everything okay?”

Ruan Mei clenched her jaw. She didn’t want to admit to her jealousy—not to you, not to anyone. She had always been so in control, so precise in her actions. But you were different. You made her feel like she had to confront the emotions she had buried for so long.

“Everything is fine,” she replied, her voice sharp but controlled. “I’ve been busy.”

You took a step closer, your eyes searching hers for the truth. “Ruan Mei,” you said gently, “I can tell when something’s wrong. You don’t have to hide it.”

She stiffened. “I’m not hiding anything,” she snapped before quickly composing herself. “It’s nothing.”

But the slight tremor in her hand betrayed her. She could feel her walls crumbling. With a deep sigh, Ruan Mei looked away, the weight of her feelings too much to bear. “I don’t like seeing you with her,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, confused at first. “With Herta?” you asked.

Ruan Mei nodded stiffly. “She... she’s too different from me. I don’t understand why you would prefer someone so... loud.”

You stepped closer, lifting her chin gently, forcing her to meet your eyes. “I like you for who you are, Ruan Mei. I don’t need someone loud or flashy. I need someone who’s thoughtful and intelligent. Someone who makes me think. And that’s you.”

Ruan Mei felt her breath catch, her heart racing in a way it hadn’t in years. Maybe, just maybe, there was something to this connection after all.

Aventurine sat at his usual spot in the corner of the room, watching you from across the room. His fingers were wrapped around a glass of wine, swirling it absently, though his attention was entirely on you. You were talking to someone else—an acquaintance, someone new—and his stomach twisted with a sensation he hadn’t expected.

He couldn’t deny the tightening in his chest. He had known it was irrational. He had known it wasn’t the time to feel possessive, but watching the way you laughed at the other person’s jokes, the way you leaned in slightly, even the way your eyes sparkled when they spoke to you—it stirred something deep inside him. Something dangerous. Something he had long buried under layers of charm and strategy.

It was an old feeling—jealousy—but for someone who had gambled with so much of his life, to feel out of control like this, to feel exposed—it unnerved him.

He had always prided himself on his ability to remain composed. He was a master of manipulation, a master of the game. But this was different. He could feel the walls around his heart beginning to crack, the fear of losing you threatening to swallow him whole.

He stood abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor, drawing attention. You looked up, your expression a mix of confusion and concern. That was all it took to push him over the edge.

Aventurine’s smile was strained as he approached you, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He leaned in just enough for you to notice the tense edge to his movements. “I think,” he began, his tone almost teasing, but there was something deeper behind it, “that I should be the one to occupy your attention for a while, don’t you think?”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly unaware of the storm brewing beneath the surface. “Aventurine, what’s wrong with you? Why are you—”

He cut you off, his voice low but with an unmistakable edge of tension. “Nothing’s wrong,” he said, though the words were laced with an undercurrent of something darker. “I just don’t like seeing what I’ve worked so hard to gain slipping away.”

You stared at him, now understanding that something more than mere playful banter was at play. “What are you talking about?”

He laughed, though there was no humor in it. “I never lose. Not in this game.”

You stepped closer, your hand gently resting on his. “Aventurine, you don’t have to play games with me. Just tell me what’s going on.”

He hesitated, his expression faltering for just a moment, before he smirked again. “Perhaps it’s just the thrill of the chase. Or maybe... just maybe, it’s that I’m afraid of losing.”

For a moment, he allowed himself to be vulnerable, before the mask slid back into place.

342 notes · View notes